#Full Tang Sword

[pabloknives]

[a-dream-seeking-light]

Gza / The Genius - Liquid Swords (1995)

Artwork by Denys Cowan (Mathematics)

Inked by Prentis Rollins

high res + uncropped repost of this post by @thebonesofhoudini via @concephenomenontunidentified

[callsigns-haze]

-ˋˏ The week it all went south ˎˊ-

Part 1

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader

Azriel has the perfect life. You as his wife. Kaia as his daughter. But him and the boys are stupid enough to challenge you for a week and then his perfect life might simply...disappear

Warning: FUTURE ANGST, mentions of past lovers, mentions of sex, cursing, kissing.

Word count: 13937

Rhysand's office was dimly lit, the soft glow of faelight casting long shadows over the dark mahogany furniture. The air smelled faintly of leather, ink, and the rich tang of spiced wine. Cassian leaned back in one of the armchairs, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, while Azriel sat with his customary stillness, though his eyes betrayed the warmth of someone entirely at ease. Rhysand, perched on the edge of his desk, held his own drink with the casual elegance he always seemed to exude.

“Remind me again,” Cassian said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Why do we still have to deal with these Illyrian males who think they’re gods’ gift to training camps? I’ve been dealing with one this week who couldn’t even hold his sword properly, and he still had the audacity to call himself a warrior.”

Rhysand snorted, taking a sip of his drink. “Because if we don’t, they’ll tear themselves apart—or worse, decide to revolt again. You’re good at handling them, Cass.”

“Good at handling them?” Cassian scoffed. “I’ve got three sons at home who listen better than most of those arrogant bastards.”

Rhysand smirked. “That says more about Nesta than it does you.”

Azriel chuckled softly, the sound rare but genuine. “How are your boys doing, anyway?”

Cassian’s face softened instantly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Torran’s growing too fast. He’s already outpacing me in drills. Emrys is still too young to care about swords, which drives Torran insane. And little Calen—” He shook his head, laughing. “That one’s going to be the death of me. He’s climbing everything he sees. Nesta caught him on the roof last week.”

Azriel raised a brow. “The roof?”

Cassian nodded grimly. “Nesta nearly burned the house down when she found him. I don’t know whether to be proud or terrified. Probably both.”

Rhysand laughed, tipping his glass toward Cassian. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“And you don’t?” Cassian shot back. “How’s Nyx? Still giving you and Feyre a run for your money?”

Rhysand sighed dramatically. “Thirteen is...a challenge. He’s inherited Feyre’s stubbornness and my sharp tongue, which is a dangerous combination.”

Cassian snorted. “Sounds like poetic justice to me.”

Rhysand ignored him. “He’s growing into his powers faster than we expected. Sometimes I don’t know whether to be proud or worried. Feyre’s convinced he’s going to be stronger than both of us one day.”

“He probably will be,” Azriel said simply, his voice laced with quiet confidence.

Rhysand tilted his head, considering. “Maybe. But I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Azriel shook his head slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Nyx will outpace you before you know it.”

Cassian grinned. “And then you’ll know what it feels like when your kids don’t need you to teach them anymore.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He turned to Azriel. “Speaking of kids, how’s Kaia?”

Azriel’s expression softened instantly, the shadows around him retreating. “She’s...perfect. Curious about everything. She spent half an hour today chasing after her own shadow, trying to figure out why it wouldn’t go away.” His voice was tinged with amusement and an unmistakable love.

Cassian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And YN? Is she keeping up with her?”

Azriel gave a quiet laugh. “Barely. Kaia’s too quick for her own good. YN says she’s going to start making me run after her when she gets tired.”

Rhysand smirked. “You always were the fastest, Az. Seems fitting.”

Azriel shot him a look, though it lacked any real venom. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re chasing Nyx through Velaris at two in the morning.”

Cassian laughed, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To fatherhood. The most exhausting battle we’ve ever fought.”

The other two raised their glasses, the clink of crystal filling the room.

Rhysand’s gaze flicked between them, his expression uncharacteristically soft. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

Cassian nodded, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah, we have.”

The door to Rhysand's office creaked open just enough for a small, tousled head to peek inside. Azriel’s sharp gaze flicked to the doorway, his eyes softening as Kaia’s little feet padded across the stone floor. Without hesitation, she ran straight to him, her tiny wings fluttering in a haphazard attempt to take off.

“Dada!” she squealed, her voice high-pitched and filled with excitement. She launched herself into his arms with a giggle, and Azriel caught her effortlessly, pulling her close.

“Kaia,” Azriel murmured, pressing a kiss to her messy hair. “What are you doing up, sweetheart?”

She tilted her head, big amber eyes that mirrored his looking up at him with feigned innocence. “I no want bath,” she said, wrinkling her little nose in distaste. Her chubby arms wrapped around him tighter. “Mama say I need bath... but I hide!”

Azriel’s lips twitched at the sight of her determination. “You hid from your mama to come find me?”

Kaia nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing with every movement. “Ye! I run real fast! Hide so no bath! No bath, Dada!” Her words were still jumbled with her toddler speech, but the meaning was clear enough.

Cassian leaned forward in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “What about me, huh? I don’t get a hug?”

Kaia squinted at him, brows furrowing as if trying to understand. After a moment, she shook her head and pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You too loud!” she declared with absolute certainty, her little lips pouting. “You talk all da time. I no like.”

Cassian laughed, throwing his head back. “Too loud? I’m the fun one, Kaia. You can’t just pick favourites like that.”

But Kaia was already halfway out of his reach, shifting in Azriel’s lap as she snuggled in closer to him. Her tiny hands reached up and tugged at Rhysand’s dark hair, as if the pull of his long strands was just too tempting.

“Rhysie,” she said with a giggle, her toddler voice softening the name into something both endearing and mischievous. Rhysand chuckled, allowing her to yank on his hair without complaint.

“You’re a little troublemaker, Kaia,” Rhysand said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as she pulled harder, then instantly snuggled back into Azriel’s side.

“Don’t pull on Rhysie’s hair, sweetling,” Azriel said gently, though there was a fond smile on his face. He wrapped an arm tighter around her as she cuddled against his chest, clearly not bothered by his warning.

“No bath!” Kaia protested again, her speech barely coherent as she pouted. “Mama no get me! I run! I hide!” She giggled again, clearly proud of herself. “Mama say I need clean. I say no! I say no bath, no bath, no bath!”

Azriel shook his head, chuckling softly as he ran his fingers through her dark hair. “You’re very clever, little one.” He looked at the others, sharing a silent understanding that there was no way Kaia was going back to the bath tonight.

Cassian grinned. “Alright, no bath. But only if you tell me a secret first, Kaia.”

She leaned back in Azriel’s lap, her tiny face scrunched up in thought. “A secret?” she asked, sounding very serious for a two-year-old.

“Yes, a secret,” Cassian insisted. “Tell me something nobody else knows.”

Kaia looked around the room, her eyes narrowing as she thought harder. Then, after a long pause, she smiled brightly. “I cookies,” she whispered loudly, leaning in to make sure Cassian heard. “I no share cookie.”

Everyone laughed, even Rhysand shaking his head with a smile. “That’s a secret?” he teased.

Kaia nodded vigorously. “Big swecret!” she insisted, then looked up at Azriel with all the sweetness in the world. “Dada... no bath?”

Azriel kissed the top of her head. “No bath tonight, sweetheart. But you’ve gotta let me have a drink with the guys now, okay?”

Kaia looked at him seriously, her little brows furrowing. “I no want drink. I want you,” she said, her tone pleading.

Azriel’s heart softened. “I’m here,” he whispered. “Always.”

Kaia settled back into his arms, clearly satisfied. “Okay, Dada. You stay.”

Kaia, content and warm in Azriel’s arms, relaxed into him, her little body soft and pliable as she burrowed closer. Azriel’s wings adjusted slightly, folding around her like a protective cocoon as she curled up against his chest, her tiny hands clasping at the fabric of his tunic. Her hair—so dark and wild—spilled across his arm, and her breath came slow and steady as she began to doze off, her toddler body relaxing against the weight of his warmth.

The low murmur of conversation from the men around them filled the air, but Kaia wasn’t paying attention. Instead, her tiny fingers traced the markings on his arm absentmindedly, her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. She was already half asleep, the soft and steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling her further.

Cassian was leaning back in his chair, hands folded behind his head, giving Azriel a teasing look. "You know, I thought Azriel was the quiet one," he said, glancing toward Rhysand with a raised brow. "But now we’ve got the next generation in here, and she’s already taking after her dad. Quiet as a shadow."

Azriel chuckled softly, a quiet sound that only made Kaia snuggle deeper into him. “She doesn’t stay quiet when she wants something,” he murmured, though his voice held the tenderness that came with his love for her.

Rhysand, ever the calm presence, took a slow sip of his drink. “She has a strong will,” he said thoughtfully. “Wonder where she got that from? You or my sister?” He shot a playful glance toward Azriel.

Azriel only gave him a quiet look of warning, his fingers running through Kaia’s soft hair as her breath deepened, little snores just beginning to escape her. He spoke in a low, affectionate tone. “She’s more than just willful. She’s clever. She knows how to get what she wants.”

Cassian grinned. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger already, doesn’t she?”

Azriel’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, his wings fluttering lightly in the quiet, the weight of her trust settling over him. “She knows exactly how to work her way around me.”

“She’s two,” Cassian teased. “Wait until she’s ten, and she’ll have you wrapped up in knots.”

“I’ll be ready,” Azriel said with a soft smile, though the idea of her growing up so quickly left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. He kissed her forehead gently, almost imperceptibly, as she murmured something unintelligible in her sleep.

The conversation drifted away from him as he allowed himself to enjoy this brief, peaceful moment with his daughter, the calm of the room enveloping them. But as the men continued to talk, there was a soft shuffle of footsteps, and Kaia’s small head jerked up from Azriel’s chest, her sleepy eyes blinking rapidly.

“Dada,” she whispered, her little voice thick with sleep. “Mama?”

Azriel stroked her hair gently, reassuring her. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”

But Kaia’s curiosity had already taken over. She sat up suddenly, rubbing her eyes as she looked around the room. "Mama? I hide!” she said with a gleam of mischief in her voice, suddenly more awake and alert. Her eyes darted across the room as if calculating the best place to hide from YN. Without warning, she hopped off Azriel’s lap, her tiny wings fluttering in excitement. She scampered to the couch and dove under the blanket with an exaggerated puff of air, pulling it over her head, only her little feet sticking out.

Azriel watched her with a fond, amused expression, shaking his head slightly. “Kaia, you can’t keep hiding from Mama,” he warned softly, though there was no real reprimand in his tone.

Kaia’s voice came from under the blanket, muffled but still clear. “Mama no find me,” she said with utter confidence. Her tiny legs wiggled, her feet kicking the blanket in her excitement. “I hide, Dada! I good at hide!”

Cassian and Rhysand both chuckled at the sight. Rhysand’s eyes twinkled as he looked over at Azriel. “Looks like she’s more like you than we thought. You used to hide from your problems too.”

Azriel gave him a pointed look. “I don’t hide.”

“Of course not,” Rhysand said smoothly, though there was an unmistakable smirk on his face. “Kaia certainly doesn’t.”

Kaia, apparently content with her decision to hide, made little giggling noises from beneath the blanket. Azriel’s wings unfolded slightly in amusement, and he reached for her, gently pulling back the blanket to find her face all scrunched up in concentration as she tried to remain hidden.

“I see you, little one,” Azriel said softly, and Kaia’s giggles broke free as she peeked out, eyes wide with a mix of delight and mischief.

“I’m good hide, Dada!” she announced, her tiny hands still clutching at the blanket.

Azriel smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her face as she crawled back onto his lap, snuggling against him once more. “You are, sweetheart. But no more hiding from Mama. She’s coming.”

Kaia frowned for a moment, but the promise of staying with her daddy seemed to cheer her up. “No Mama. No bath,” she muttered, her speech still jumbled but full of intent. “Hide more!”

Azriel chuckled, knowing full well that this little one would give her mama a run for her money.

The soft sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway before the door to Rhysand’s office creaked open, and you stepped inside. Immediately, your eyes flicked to the sight before you—Azriel, seated comfortably in one of the chairs, his dark wings enveloping his daughter, who was curled up in his lap, asleep but still warm from the lingering glow of her playful energy.

You smirked as you took in the scene. Cassian and Rhysand were deep in conversation, but both looked up at you the moment you entered, the tension of their talks easing into an unspoken amusement. They’d seen that look before—the one where you were hunting for something (or someone) you didn’t want to admit was far too skilled at evading capture.

“I’m searching for a runaway,” you said with a teasing lilt to your voice, crossing your arms. Your gaze fell onto the small figure tucked against Azriel’s chest, her hair a wild halo of dark curls, her little body completely at ease despite her escape attempt.

Azriel’s head tilted slightly as he met your eyes, and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew exactly what you were talking about.

“You mean Kaia, don’t you?” Rhysand’s voice was dry, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “I’m sure she’s hiding from you because she knows exactly what’s coming.”

“I’m sure she’s just lost in thought,” Azriel replied, though the way he shifted Kaia gently in his arms suggested he was trying to keep her in her comfortable cocoon. “She was really adamant about not needing a bath.”

“Oh, she’s very good at that,” you said, walking further into the room. “I thought I’d check in with you guys, but it looks like you’ve got her well in hand.” You looked pointedly at Azriel, whose face had softened as he ran his fingers through Kaia’s hair.

Kaia shifted in Azriel’s lap, her eyes half-lidded, but she was still awake, and the moment she heard your voice, her little face scrunched up in exaggerated suspicion. She slowly lifted her head, her tiny wings fluttering behind her as she tried to blink the sleep from her eyes.

“No Mama!” Kaia protested, throwing her arms over her face as if it would somehow shield her from the inevitable. “Hide! I hide, no bath!”

You sighed dramatically, taking a step closer, feigning exasperation. “Kaia, sweetheart, don’t you want to be all nice and clean for the night? I was just coming to check on my two favourite people, but I see that one of them is being a little troublemaker.” You crouched down in front of her, smiling at her defiant little pout.

She peeked from beneath her arms, and her lip trembled, her voice barely a whisper. “No Mama. No bath. I hide. I hide from Mama, Dada.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his voice low and soothing. “She’s good at hiding, love. I’ve tried to tell her it’s not going to work.”

“Oh, I know it won’t work,” you said, reaching out to pull the blanket off her tiny form. “But it’s adorable to watch her try.”

Kaia giggled as the blanket was pulled away, exposing her to you. Her small hands shot up to her face again in an attempt to shield herself. “No, no, no bath! I hide. I good hide!”

“You are a very good hider, sweetheart.” You reached down to scoop her up gently, ignoring her protest. She squirmed a little but melted against you when she realized there was no escape. “But no more running. It’s time for a bath.”

Kaia, however, wasn’t about to give up so easily. “I no need bath,” she declared with a loud puff of air. “I already clean! I clean!”

Rhysand’s laugh echoed through the room. “I believe that’s a no, then.”

You shot him a quick, amused glance. “A very determined no, at that. I think she might be more stubborn than any of us.”

Azriel’s eyes softened as he gazed at Kaia, still nestled against you. “She gets that from her mother.”

“She might also get it from her father,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you shifted Kaia onto your hip.

“Not that much,” Azriel protested, though the warmth in his voice made it clear he didn’t mind at all.

“I’ll let you both deal with her when she’s three,” you said, already walking toward the door with Kaia clinging to you like a tiny koala. “For now, she’s still in the stage where she’s cute enough to get away with anything.”

Cassian laughed. “Good luck with that, YN. I’ve had a lot of practice with troublemakers, but I’m pretty sure Kaia’s going to be next-level.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I’m well aware, Cassian.”

Azriel’s eyes followed you as you walked out the door, Kaia’s arms wrapped tightly around you. “You sure you want to take her?”

You glanced back at him and smiled, a playful glint in your eyes. “She’s your daughter, Azriel. I think you’ve had your turn.”

Kaia let out a loud whine, her small hand tugging at your collar. “No bath!” she repeated, her toddler words still as adorably clear as ever. “I no bath, Mama!”

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” you said, kissing her forehead.

As you carried Kaia toward the door, her little protests still filling the air, you paused and turned back to the three men lounging in the office. Cassian was leaning so far back in his chair it looked like he might tip over, Rhysand was swirling his drink with all the leisure of a man who had nothing but time, and Azriel—well, Azriel was looking at you with that calm, unruffled expression, even though you knew he was just as guilty as the other two.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “You know, I have a theory,” you said, bouncing Kaia slightly as she rested her head against your shoulder.

“A theory, hmm?” Rhysand drawled, one brow arching as he took another slow sip of his drink. “Do enlighten us.”

You smirked. “It’s funny how every time Feyre, Nesta, and I are up to our necks with the kids—” you glanced at Azriel meaningfully, “—all of you somehow end up here. Drinking. Relaxing. Laughing like life is oh-so-easy.”

Cassian snorted, his grin widening as he set his drink down. “We’re strategizing,” he said, far too defensively to be believable. “Important things. Illyrian training. You know, for the next generation.”

“Right,” you said, shifting Kaia to your other hip. “Strategizing. Because obviously, the best way to deal with a horde of screaming children is to sit in Rhysand’s office with a glass of whiskey.”

“I think it’s working,” Rhysand chimed in smoothly, giving you a wink. “Look how relaxed we are.”

Kaia, as if on cue, perked up just enough to lift her head and point a chubby finger at Rhysand. “Rhysie no help!” she declared, her toddler voice loud and certain.

You grinned. “Exactly, Kaia. Rhysie no help.” You turned toward the door, raising your voice just enough to carry down the hallway. “Nesta! You’ve got to come see this. The boys are in here strategizing while we’re busy running after all the kids.”

A moment later, you heard footsteps approaching, quick and purposeful, and then Nesta appeared in the doorway, her sharp gaze sweeping over the room. “Let me guess,” she said, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “Drinking and lounging while we’re doing all the work?”

Cassian, who had the audacity to look pleased to see her, leaned back even further in his chair. “We’re taking a much-needed break, sweetheart. You know how exhausting strategizing can be.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Strategizing, huh? And what exactly have you been strategizing, Cassian?”

“Training,” Cassian replied smoothly. “The future. Our sons.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Of course. You’re strategizing, and we’re dealing with three boys who’ve decided that walls are optional for flying practice.”

Cassian sat up straighter, a smirk playing at his lips. “That sounds like good training to me.”

Nesta shot him a look that could have frozen the Sidra. “It’s destruction, Cassian.”

Kaia, catching onto the tension, buried her face against your shoulder, peeking out just enough to whisper, “Cassy in trouble?”

“Yes, Kaia,” you said, grinning. “Cassy’s in big trouble.”

Azriel, who had been quietly observing the exchange with an amused smile, finally spoke up. “To be fair,” he said softly, “the boys did ask for a break.”

“Of course they did,” you said, shaking your head. “Meanwhile, Feyre and I had to chase Nyx off the roof again, and Nesta’s youngest is trying to figure out how to set a trap for the twins.”

Rhysand chuckled, raising his glass toward Nesta. “To the mothers of the Inner Circle. The true warriors among us.”

Nesta raised a brow but didn’t take the bait. “You’re lucky we haven’t strung all of you up yet.”

Cassian leaned forward, grinning as he motioned toward the empty chair next to him. “Why don’t you join us, sweetheart? You deserve a break, too.”

Nesta sighed but finally walked over, claiming the chair with a regal grace. She glanced at you as you shifted Kaia again, who had started to drift off once more. “I’m not doing this alone, YN,” she said. “Feyre deserves to see this, too.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you replied, smirking as you moved toward the door. “I’m going to send her in next. Let’s see how long your little strategy session lasts once the rest of us are here.”

Azriel’s quiet laugh followed you out, and you heard Cassian groan, “She’s bluffing, right?”

Rhysand’s amused voice was the last thing you heard before you turned the corner. “You know better than that, Cassian.”

You didn’t make it far before you paused, a smirk creeping across your face. “You know what? Feyre does need to see this now.” Adjusting Kaia on your hip, you turned back toward the hallway and called out, “Feyre! You might want to come take a look at this.”

The sound of footsteps echoed moments later, and Feyre appeared, her hair slightly mussed, her expression one of mild exasperation. “What is it now? Did Nyx try to jump off something again?”

“Not this time,” you said, gesturing toward the office. “But you’ll want to see what our fearless mates and brothers are up to while we’re busy chasing after their children.”

Feyre raised a brow and stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping over the scene—the three men lounging in comfort, glasses of whiskey in hand, all looking far too pleased with themselves.

“Well, well,” Feyre said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “What do we have here? A secret meeting?”

Rhysand’s lips curved into a slow smile as he gestured to the empty seat next to him. “Join us, darling. We were just discussing the intricacies of basic Illyrian training.”

Feyre scoffed, striding further into the room. “Basic Illyrian training, hmm? Is that what you call this little boys’ club?”

“I think it’s cute,” you chimed in, bouncing Kaia slightly as she started to squirm. “They’re pretending they’re doing something important while we’re out there making sure their children don’t destroy Velaris.”

Nesta, still seated beside Cassian, smirked and gestured toward Feyre. “Take a seat. I’m sure they’ll explain how their ‘strategizing’ is critical to the survival of the Night Court.”

Feyre shook her head, but there was amusement in her eyes as she looked at Rhysand. “You know, Rhys, I’m starting to think we deserve a break.”

“A break?” Rhysand echoed, tilting his head. “From what, darling? Surely you’re not suggesting life with our children is anything less than a joy.”

You snorted. “Oh, it’s a joy, alright. Especially when Nyx decides to start a game of tag on the roof, or Cassian’s boys decide to see if they can break through a wall with their wings.”

“They’re learning structural integrity,” Cassian said defensively, though his grin betrayed him.

“And how exactly is that helping us?” Nesta asked, her tone sharp as she fixed him with a glare. “Do you know how many walls we’ve had to repair this month?”

Azriel stayed quiet, his hand lightly rubbing Kaia’s back as she snuggled against him, but his lips twitched in amusement.

Feyre stepped closer to Rhysand, placing her hands on the back of his chair. “You know, I think we deserve a week off. No kids. Just us. Let’s see how well you three manage without us.”

Rhysand arched a brow, his voice smooth as silk. “A week off? Are you implying we can’t handle our own children?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shifting Kaia again as she started to doze off. “Can you handle Kaia’s nightly escape attempts? Or Nyx’s tendency to challenge gravity at every opportunity?”

Nesta smirked. “What about when the twins decide they’re inventing a new game that requires smashing furniture?”

Cassian leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Please. We’ve handled far worse.”

“Oh, really?” Feyre asked, her tone dripping with challenge. “Then let’s make it official. One week. No help. No Feyre, no YN, no Nesta. Just the three of you and all the kids.”

Rhysand leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gave her a slow, considering smile. “And what would the three of you be doing during this week of freedom?”

“Anything we want,” you replied immediately, grinning. “No schedules. No messes to clean. No nightly tantrums.”

Nesta’s voice was firm. “And no repairing walls.”

Azriel glanced down at Kaia, his gaze softening. “You’d really leave us alone for a week?”

“Yes,” you said, though your heart warmed at the way he was glancing at your daughter. “And you’d survive. Maybe.”

Cassian grinned, leaning toward Azriel and Rhysand. “Come on, boys. How hard could it be?”

Rhysand’s gaze flicked toward Feyre, full of mischief. “Challenge accepted.”

Feyre smirked. “You’ll regret that by the end of the first day.”

You laughed, Kaia stirring slightly as you kissed the top of her head. “We’ll pack our bags tonight. Good luck, gentlemen. You’re going to need it.”

You grinned, shifting Kaia onto your hip as you leaned against the doorframe. “You know, Feyre, Nesta, and I could always go to the Day Court for the week. Helion would love to take us in. No kids, plenty of sunshine, and a lot less chaos.”

Cassian sat up straight, feigning offense. “The Day Court? You’d betray us like that?”

“Oh, it’s not betrayal,” Nesta said with a smirk, tapping her fingers on the armrest of her chair. “It’s survival. And besides, Helion has excellent taste. He knows how to treat his guests.”

Rhysand arched a brow at Feyre, his expression amused. “You’d run off to Helion? Really, darling? Aren’t I enough?”

Feyre tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Well, Helion does throw very good parties. And he doesn’t make me chase a child off the roof.”

Before Rhysand could respond, a loud, familiar voice interrupted.

“NO!”

Nyx came barreling into the room, his curls bouncing as he skidded to a stop in front of you. His eyes were wide with panic, and his wings flared slightly behind him as he planted himself firmly in your path.

“You can’t leave them in charge!” Nyx declared, pointing dramatically at his father, Cassian, and Azriel. “Not again! They’ll ruin everything!”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his expression equal parts amused and offended. “Excuse me, young man. What exactly are you accusing us of?”

Nyx turned on him, his hands on his hips. “The last time you were in charge, Uncle Cassian said I could ‘fly like an Illyrian,’ and then—” He flapped his arms wildly for emphasis. “And then I broke my arm!”

Cassian burst out laughing, clapping a hand on his chest. “That was a learning experience, Nyx. Every Illyrian has to learn how to fall at some point.”

“I didn’t fall!” Nyx shouted, glaring at him. “You threw me!”

“I did not throw you!” Cassian protested, though his grin was far too wide to be convincing.

Nyx crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “You threw me, and then you told Mama it was an accident. I’m still not allowed to go anywhere with you by myself!”

Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath about reckless behavior and bad influences. “He’s not wrong, Cassian. You did throw him.”

“I helped him fly,” Cassian corrected, raising his hands defensively.

Nyx turned to you, his expression pleading. “You can’t leave us with them! Uncle Azriel doesn’t even let me hold his knives, and Dad just makes me sit and listen to boring stories about being High Lord.”

Azriel chuckled quietly from his seat, his hand still resting protectively on Kaia’s back as she began to doze. “I’m not letting you hold my knives, Nyx. You’re thirteen, not thirty.”

Nyx huffed, his wings twitching in frustration. “I can fight! I’m strong!”

“You’re also grounded,” Feyre said firmly, cutting off whatever argument he was about to make. “And if you’re trying to talk us out of going to the Day Court, it’s not working.”

Nyx’s eyes widened as he looked between you, Feyre, and Nesta. “You’re really going to leave me with them? Mama, you can’t!”

Rhysand smirked, leaning forward to ruffle Nyx’s hair. “Don’t worry, son. We’ll take excellent care of you.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Nyx muttered darkly, stepping away and turning toward the door. “I’m telling Aunt Amren. She’ll stop you.”

Nesta snorted, shaking her head. “Amren’s the one who suggested this in the first place. She said we’ve ‘earned’ it.”

You grinned, watching as Nyx stormed off, muttering under his breath about unfair treatment and irresponsible adults. Turning back to the three men, you tilted your head. “Well, there you have it. Even your own son doesn’t trust you to handle this.”

Rhysand sighed dramatically, lifting his drink. “Clearly, I’ve raised a traitor.”

Cassian laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine, Rhys. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Azriel didn’t say a word, but the slight twitch of his wings and the quiet laugh that escaped him said everything.

You smiled sweetly, adjusting Kaia on your hip. “Let me know how that attitude works out for you when we’re gone. We’ll be sure to send Helion your love.”

Feyre and Nesta smirked in unison as you all turned to leave, already planning the week of freedom ahead.

-----

The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came after all the children had finally settled into sleep. Kaia had been tucked into her bed hours ago, her tiny wings carefully draped over her blanket as she drifted off without a care in the world. The boys had stayed up later than usual, their laughter echoing through the halls until Azriel finally sent them off to their rooms with firm but gentle reminders about the chaos they’d already caused today.

Now, it was just you.

You stood in the bedroom, a soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminating the suitcase open on the bed. You were methodically folding clothes—light dresses, comfortable shoes, and a few things Feyre and Nesta had sworn were “perfect for the Day Court.” A small smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the week ahead. The idea of a break, of sunshine and relaxation with no children demanding your attention, felt like a dream.

The door creaked open behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Still packing?” Azriel’s voice was soft, laced with that calm, steady warmth you adored.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of him leaning against the doorframe. His hair was slightly tousled, his shoulders relaxed now that the day’s chaos had come to an end. His gaze swept over the room, lingering on the suitcase before meeting your eyes.

“You know,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward you, “I could still talk you out of this.”

You smirked, turning back to the suitcase as you folded another dress. “Oh, you could, could you?”

He came to stand beside you, his wings rustling slightly as he leaned against the bedpost. “Absolutely,” he said, his tone low and teasing. “Just say the word, and I’ll convince Feyre and Nesta that this trip isn’t necessary.”

You raised a brow, glancing up at him with a playful smile. “And how exactly would you do that? Bribery? Threats? Or are you planning to charm us into staying?”

Azriel’s lips twitched, his hazel eyes shining with amusement. “I was thinking charm, actually. It usually works on you.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you placed another item in the suitcase. “Not this time, Shadowsinger. I’m going, and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

He watched you for a moment, his expression softening. “You deserve it,” he said quietly. “All of you do. But… Kaia’s going to miss you.”

You paused, your hands stilling on the edge of the suitcase. “Kaia’s going to miss me?” You looked at him, raising a skeptical brow. “She spent the entire day glued to your side, Az. If anything, she’s going to forget I exist.”

Azriel chuckled, his wings shifting as he straightened. “She loves her mama. Even if she’s too stubborn to admit it sometimes.”

You smiled, your heart warming at the thought of your daughter. “She gets that from you, you know.”

He stepped closer, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered, his touch gentle as he studied you. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you said, your voice softer now. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Azriel’s gaze held yours, his hand dropping to rest on your waist. “We’re both lucky to have you.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of the day melting away. His hand was warm against your side, grounding you in a way only he could.

“You’re really okay with this?” you asked quietly, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. “Me leaving for a whole week?”

He smiled, a rare, genuine thing that made your heart flutter. “I’ll miss you,” he admitted, his thumb tracing small circles against your hip. “But I’ll survive. And so will Kaia. Somehow.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him as his wings folded slightly around you. “I don’t know who I should be more worried about—her or you.”

“Definitely me,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But I’ll try to manage without you.”

You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze. “You’ll do more than manage. You’ll be amazing. You always are.”

Azriel leaned down, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that was both comforting and full of promise. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur.

“Don’t worry about us. Just enjoy yourself, YN.”

“I will,” you promised, your heart swelling with love for the man before you.

As the silence stretched between you, Azriel’s gaze flickered to your lips, a familiar glint of mischief lighting his hazel eyes. His hand on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you just a fraction closer.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, velvety tone that always sent a shiver down your spine, “we still have some time before you leave.”

Your lips curved into a teasing smile as you tilted your head. “And what exactly are you suggesting, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel’s wings flared slightly, brushing against the edges of the room as he leaned in. His lips ghosted over yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, but he didn’t close the distance. Not yet.

“I’m suggesting,” he said, his voice a soft rumble, “that maybe you should stay here and let me remind you of all the reasons you shouldn’t go.”

Your breath hitched as his free hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheekbone. He dipped his head, his lips barely grazing your jaw as he whispered, “Starting with how much I’ve missed having you to myself.”

“Az,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone steady even as heat pooled in your chest. “You’re not playing fair.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm as his lips trailed along the curve of your neck. “I never said I would.”

Your hands found their way to his chest, the fabric of his shirt bunching under your fingers as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re not going to win, you know. I’m still going.”

His lips paused against your skin, and you felt the smirk that formed there. “Oh, I don’t need to win. I just need to make sure you remember me while you’re gone.”

Your laugh was breathless, and you tipped your head back, giving him better access as his kisses turned more insistent. “As if I could forget you.”

Azriel hummed, his wings curling slightly around you as his hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly in place. “Good,” he murmured, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of the kind of intensity that made your knees weak.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “One more thing,” he said, his voice rough with affection.

“What’s that?” you asked, your voice just as soft.

His lips curved into a smirk as his thumb brushed against your lower lip. “Make sure Helion knows you’re mine.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of warmth as you leaned into him. “I think he already knows, Az.”

“Good,” he said again, his tone playful yet possessive as he kissed you once more, this time with no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

Azriel didn’t let you pull away—not that you wanted to. His lips moved against yours with that perfect blend of softness and urgency, his hands anchoring you firmly in place as though daring you to remember anything but him.

The suitcase on the bed was all but forgotten as he coaxed a sigh from you, his mouth tilting into a knowing smirk at your reaction.

“Az,” you murmured against his lips, your voice half-scolding, half-breathless.

“Hm?” he hummed, his tone utterly unrepentant as he kissed the corner of your mouth, then trailed down your jaw.

“You’re distracting me,” you managed, though your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt betrayed just how little you minded.

“Good,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough in a way that made your pulse flutter. “You’ve been so focused on everyone else, shadow,”—his favorite term of endearment for you, spoken so softly it made your heart ache—“it’s time someone focused on you.”

Your heart squeezed at the tenderness in his words, even as his teasing lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“You know,” you said, your breath hitching when his teeth grazed your skin, “if you keep this up, Feyre and Nesta are going to show up in the morning, and I’m not going to be ready.”

Azriel chuckled, the sound low and sinful as he lifted his head to meet your gaze. “You don’t need to pack for the Day Court. You could stay here. I’ll make it worth your while.”

You arched a brow, pretending to consider it even as you traced slow circles on his chest. “And what exactly would you do to make it worth my while?”

His hazel eyes darkened, and the corners of his mouth twitched as though he were holding back a full grin. “I’d start,” he said, his voice a silken promise, “by reminding you how much I love you. And then…” His wings flared slightly, his fingers tightening on your hips as he leaned in again.

“And then?” you pressed, your voice soft, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the way his gaze lingered on your lips.

“And then,” he murmured, his forehead brushing against yours, “I’d spend the whole week making sure you never want to leave my side again.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, though it was breathless and tinged with heat. “Azriel,” you said, shaking your head even as your hands slid up to wrap around his neck, “you are completely incorrigible.”

“I’m your incorrigible husband,” he said, his lips curving as he kissed you again, slow and deep, until all thoughts of the Day Court faded into nothingness.

When you finally pulled away, your breathing uneven and your cheeks flushed, Azriel’s hands stayed firm on your waist, holding you close. His hazel eyes sparkled with satisfaction, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, shaking your head as you tried to regain your composure.

“And you love me for it,” he teased, leaning down to brush another soft kiss to your temple.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Unfortunately for me.”

Azriel chuckled, his wings shifting as he stepped back just enough to give you space. “I’ll leave you to finish packing—if you insist on going, that is.”

“If I insist?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

His smirk deepened, and he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Go to the Day Court. But don’t be surprised if I show up halfway through the week to bring you home.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned back to the suitcase on the bed. “Kaia would never forgive you if you left her for that long.”

“She might forgive me if I brought her to you,” he countered, his voice softening at the thought of your daughter.

“She’d love it,” you admitted, glancing over your shoulder at him. “But I think you can handle a week without me. Besides, Helion’s already promised Feyre, Nesta, and me the royal treatment.”

Azriel’s wings twitched, a subtle flicker of something possessive crossing his face before he hid it behind a playful smile. “You’ll be back before you know it.”

“Miss me already?” you teased, folding the last of your clothes and placing them in the suitcase.

“Always,” he said simply, and the sincerity in his voice made your heart stutter.

You paused, turning fully to face him. For a moment, you just looked at him—the man who had been your partner in everything, who had stood by your side through chaos and calm, who adored you and your daughter more than anything in the world.

Stepping closer, you reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. “I love you,” you said softly, the words carrying all the weight of your feelings.

Azriel leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. “And I love you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a cocoon. Then, with a final lingering kiss, Azriel stepped back, his hands falling to his sides.

“I’ll check on Kaia before I head to bed,” he said, his voice low.

You nodded, your heart swelling as you watched him leave the room, his shadows trailing after him.

And as you turned back to the suitcase, you couldn’t help but smile, already counting down the days until you’d be back in his arms again.

-----

The morning light filtered gently through the curtains, bathing the room in soft, golden hues. You stirred slowly, the warmth of Azriel’s arms wrapped securely around you, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing. For a moment, you just lay there, savoring the feeling of being tucked against him, his wings sprawled protectively around your form.

His face was relaxed in sleep, the lines of tension from the previous days gone, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at the way he looked—vulnerable and at peace. You pressed your face against his chest, breathing in the scent of him, a mix of sandalwood and something distinctly Azriel—earthy, comforting, and home.

But as much as you wanted to stay there forever, the thought of the day ahead pulled you from the warmth of his embrace. You sighed quietly, trying not to disturb him as you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him. The soft rustle of the blankets seemed to stir Azriel’s senses, and you felt him shift behind you, pulling you closer as though trying to keep you there.

“Five more minutes,” he murmured against the back of your neck, his voice thick with sleep.

You chuckled softly, turning your head to plant a kiss on his jaw. “You know I have to go, right?”

Azriel groaned, his arms tightening around you. “I know,” he mumbled, but there was a hint of reluctance in his tone. “But I can’t let you leave yet.”

You laughed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back soon. Besides, Feyre and Nesta will never let us hear the end of it if we’re late.”

“Mm, they’re already too excited to get away,” he muttered, nuzzling against your neck with a final sigh of contentment. But after a moment, he released you, the warmth of his body leaving a cold spot on the bed.

Reluctantly, you slid out of bed, the cool air of the room instantly making you miss the heat of his touch. You moved to the closet, pulling out your outfit for the day, but as you dressed, you could feel Azriel’s eyes on you, his presence heavy and comforting.

Once you were dressed, you turned back to the bed. Azriel had propped himself up on his elbow, his gaze fixed on you with that dark, intense look he always wore when he was lost in thought.

“You’re really going to leave me?” he asked, his voice soft but with an undercurrent of affection.

You smiled, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I have to. I’ll miss you, too, though.”

He nodded, and for a moment, you stood there together, soaking in the last few moments before the day began in full force.

After a final kiss, you left the bedroom, stepping out into the hall. The house was already stirring, and as you walked toward the stairs, you heard the sound of voices below. When you reached the kitchen, you found the familiar sight of Cassian, Rhysand, and your little Kaia sitting at the table.

Kaia’s tiny feet dangled from the chair as she babbled happily, her wide, bright eyes sparkling up at Rhysand, who was teasing her with a piece of fruit. Cassian sat beside her, his boisterous laugh filling the room as he ruffled her hair. His sons were still nowhere to be seen, probably still asleep, which seemed to be a rare luxury in the chaos of their usual routine.

“Well, well,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. “Look who’s in charge of the kids this morning.”

Cassian looked up, grinning ear to ear. “Someone has to keep an eye on them while you take your luxurious break.”

Rhysand glanced up from where he was sitting next to Kaia, a teasing glint in his eye. “You’re welcome. Though, I don’t know why you’re so eager to leave us. Kaia seems pretty happy here.”

Kaia giggled, reaching up to grab at Rhysand’s hair, tugging on it with all the strength her tiny hands could muster. “Rhysie!” she said, her voice lisping around the word as she giggled.

You shook your head with a small laugh. “She really is a handful, isn’t she?”

“She’s a delight,” Rhysand said, his tone dry as he pulled his hair out of her grasp. “I’m just glad I’m not the one who has to deal with her tantrums.”

Cassian threw his head back with a laugh. “I can’t wait to hear what happens when it’s Azriel's turn to watch her this week.”

Before you could respond, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind, and you turned to find Feyre and Nesta walking into the kitchen, both already fully prepared for the trip.

“We’re ready to go,” Feyre announced with a grin, her bags slung over her shoulder.

“You two really can’t wait, can you?” you teased.

Nesta crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “We deserve this, YN. Don’t try to ruin our excitement.”

Feyre grinned. “I’ll second that. I think it’s about time we leave the chaos behind for a bit.”

You laughed, crossing the room to grab a cup of tea before setting your gaze on Rhysand and Cassian, who were now clearly in full babysitting mode.

“If any of them come back with bruises or broken limbs, I’m blaming you three,” you said, teasing.

Cassian held up his hands in mock defence. “We’ll be just fine. I promise, Kaia’s in good hands.”

“Besides,” Rhysand added, “you’ll be back before you know it.”

As the four of you gathered your things, laughter and light-hearted banter filled the air. But in the back of your mind, you knew Azriel would be there to handle everything while you were away. You just hoped the boys wouldn’t get too out of hand.

-----

The moment the last of the girls left, a tense silence descended over the room, hanging thick in the air. Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel stood there for a moment, exchanging glances as they mentally prepared themselves for what was about to unfold. They’d been through this before, but that didn’t make it any less challenging.

Azriel shifted on his feet, his wings barely brushing against the table. “Are we sure we can handle all of them?” he asked, though it wasn’t a question of doubt—more like a quiet observation.

Cassian grinned, clearly relishing the chaos. “Of course, we can. How hard can it be? It’s just kids, after all,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. He shot a glance at Rhysand. “And don’t you dare try to say it’s ‘too much,’ Rhys. You’ve survived worse.”

Rhysand sighed but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “True. But we’ve never had this many all at once.”

The sound of little feet padding into the room interrupted the conversation, and soon the three boys—Torran, Emrus, and Calen—came stumbling in, their messy hair and sleep-rumpled faces betraying that they had just woken up. Their eyes were still half-lidded as they slowly blinked at the scene before them: three fully-grown men standing in a kitchen, attempting to look responsible.

“Dad?” Torran rubbed his eyes sleepily, looking at Cassian. “What’s for breakfast?”

Emrus yawned loudly, his hand rubbing his face. “I’m hungry,” he mumbled, barely opening his eyes as he looked at Rhysand, trying to look as cute as possible to get out of a scolding.

Calen, who was the youngest of the three, immediately latched onto his father’s leg, hiding behind it and peering up at the three men. “Daddy,” he said quietly, a bit unsure of the situation. “Where’s Mom?”

Cassian ruffled his hair affectionately. “She’s off on a much-needed vacation, remember? It’s just us today. And don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”

Azriel gave a small, half-amused smile, glancing toward Rhysand and Cassian. “This is going to be fun,” he muttered under his breath.

The sound of more footsteps followed soon after, as Nyx walked in, still looking half-asleep but clearly already aware of the shift in the atmosphere. His eyes immediately flickered from Azriel to the boys, and then he gave a soft sigh, knowing exactly what his father was about to ask him to do.

“Dad, I’m not babysitting them,” Nyx grumbled, clearly tired of the routine.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Rhysand. “You’re not. You’re the oldest; it’s your job to make sure they don’t set the house on fire.”

Rhysand snorted, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “He’s right, Nyx. Just keep an eye on them for now. You’re the only one who can make sure Cassian doesn’t let them eat their weight in pastries before noon.”

Cassian threw his hands up in mock offense. “I don’t always spoil them,” he said dramatically. “But I do know what the kids like.”

Nyx rolled his eyes but nodded, knowing he was essentially outnumbered. He moved to sit at the table and begin slouching in the chair, obviously dreading the next few hours.

Just then, Kaia—Azriel’s little two-year-old—wobbled around room, her hair a wild mess of dark curls, her wide, curious eyes scanning the scene before her. She let out a cheerful giggle when she saw her dad and immediately ran toward him.

“Dada!” Kaia called, her baby voice high-pitched and full of excitement as she tried to climb onto his lap.

Azriel’s face softened as he scooped her up, settling her on his knee. “Hey, little one,” he said, his voice tender as he brushed a stray curl from her face. “What are you up to?”

“I want pannycake!” she declared loudly, bouncing on his lap as if that would make her demand more convincing.

“Of course you do,” Azriel said, half-amused and half-resigned. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Rhysand, with a resigned sigh, stepped over to the counter and grabbed the breakfast supplies. “Looks like it’s up to us to feed the masses today,” he muttered. “Anyone want to help?”

Cassian clapped his hands together, standing up with a grin. “You bet. Let’s make this an event.”

Torran, Emrus, and Calen started to gather around the counter, already too excited by the idea of food to care about their previous grumpy moods. Kaia, now securely in Azriel’s arms, pointed enthusiastically at the pancakes and asked, “Can I have bwuebewwies?”

“You can have whatever you want,” Azriel replied with a smile, brushing a kiss to the top of her head. He could already see that he was going to be wrapped around her little finger for the foreseeable future.

As the group settled into their roles, Rhysand began heating up the pan, Cassian retrieved various ingredients with unnecessary enthusiasm, and Nyx slouched in his seat, trying to act like he wasn’t already mentally preparing himself for the chaos ahead.

“Should we make this a competition?” Cassian asked, his tone light as he bounced between tasks. “See who can get the kids fed and settled fastest?”

Azriel rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at his lips. “You’re insane. But I’m in.”

Nyx groaned. “I’m too old for this.”

Cassian barely had time to react before Torran, Emrus, and Calen launched themselves at him, a unified flurry of arms, legs, and battle cries.

“Attack!” Torran shouted, his voice ringing with the authority of the eldest as he tackled Cassian around the middle.

Emrus scrambled to climb onto his father’s back, giggling uncontrollably. “We’ve got you now, Dad!”

Calen, not wanting to be left out, latched onto Cassian’s leg, his little hands gripping tightly as he added his own gleeful shout to the chaos.

Cassian staggered under the weight of all three boys, laughing as he tried to fend them off. “You think you can take me down?” he bellowed dramatically, his voice booming through the kitchen. “I’m a General! You’ll never defeat me!”

“You’re outnumbered, Dad!” Torran crowed, attempting to wrestle Cassian to the ground.

Azriel leaned casually against the counter, Kaia still perched on his hip, her little hands gripping his tunic as she watched the spectacle unfold with wide eyes. “Should we help him, sweetheart?” Azriel asked, his tone amused.

Kaia tilted her head, considering it for a moment before shaking her head firmly. “Nope. Cassy too loud,” she declared, her baby voice cutting through the noise.

Rhysand snorted from his spot near the stove, where he was flipping pancakes. “Looks like you’re on your own, Cassian.”

Cassian shot Rhysand an exaggerated glare. “Some High Lord you are, Rhys. Aren’t you supposed to lead by example?”

“I am,” Rhysand said smoothly, gesturing to the pancakes with a flourish. “I’m feeding your troops. It’s called strategy.”

As Cassian’s boys continued their assault, Nyx, who had been watching with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, got up from his chair and walked over to Kaia. He crouched down so he was at her eye level, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey, Kaia,” he said gently, reaching out to brush a stray curl from her face. “You wanna get out of here before things get even crazier?”

Kaia blinked at him, her tiny hand clutching Azriel’s sleeve as she considered his offer. “We go?” she asked, her voice curious.

“Somewhere quiet,” Nyx replied, standing up and holding out his hand to her. “Trust me, this week is going to be a mess. We’ve got to stick together, okay?”

Kaia looked up at Azriel, her big dark eyes questioning. Azriel chuckled softly, setting her down on the floor. “Go on, sweetheart,” he said. “Nyx will take care of you.”

Kaia slipped her tiny hand into Nyx’s, her trust in him absolute. Nyx gave her a reassuring smile before glancing back at the adults. “Good luck,” he said dryly, his tone making it clear he didn’t envy them one bit.

With that, Nyx led Kaia out of the kitchen, leaving the three grown men to handle the chaos that was quickly escalating behind them. Rhysand sighed, flipping another pancake onto the growing stack. “You know,” he said, addressing no one in particular, “this might actually kill us.”

Azriel smirked, his calm exterior never faltering. “Speak for yourself.”

Cassian, now pinned to the floor by his three sons, looked up with a mock glare. “You two are terrible friends.”

“Friends who are making breakfast,” Rhysand corrected, raising his spatula in a mock toast.

Cassian groaned, though his grin never wavered, and the sound of laughter filled the kitchen once more.

Cassian finally managed to wrestle himself free from his sons, standing up and dusting off his tunic with a grin. “You know,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, “maybe we should take this whole circus to the cabin.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, flipping the last pancake onto the growing stack. “The cabin? With all the kids?”

“Why not?” Cassian shrugged, his grin widening. “The boys have their Illyrian training this week anyway. They’ll burn off all their energy in the mountains, and we’ll have some breathing room to relax.”

Azriel, who had been silently wiping syrup off his hands after Kaia’s sticky breakfast adventure, froze. His sharp gaze snapped to Cassian, his wings shifting slightly as tension settled over him.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Azriel said quietly, his voice calm but firm.

Cassian frowned. “Why not? It’ll be good for the kids, and you know the mountains are perfect for—”

“For the boys, maybe,” Azriel interrupted, his tone measured but with an edge of protectiveness. “But Kaia’s too little. She can barely lift off the ground, and the air pressure in the mountains is different. It’s hard even for fully grown Illyrians.”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his violet eyes thoughtful. “It’s not just the air pressure, is it?”

Azriel glanced at him, his expression unreadable, but they all knew him too well.

“The Illyrians…” Azriel finally admitted, his voice quieter now. “They don’t take kindly to females with wings. Kaia’s just a baby. I won’t let her be exposed to that kind of... prejudice.”

Cassian straightened, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with seriousness. “Az, no one’s going to say a damn thing to Kaia. And if they do, they’ll answer to me. Or Rhys. Or, hell, even the boys. You know we won’t let anything happen to her.”

Rhysand nodded in agreement. “And as for the air pressure, we’ll adjust. We won’t push her to fly or do anything strenuous. She’s your daughter, Azriel. She has all of us to protect her.”

Azriel’s wings shifted again, the tension in his shoulders still visible. “It’s not just about protection,” he murmured, looking down at his hands. “I don’t want her to feel... less. Or different.”

Cassian clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, his grip firm. “She’s not less, and she’s not different. She’s Kaia, and she’s incredible. Those winged bastards at the camps don’t get a say in that. You’re her father. She’s got you—and us. That’s all she needs.”

Rhysand smiled softly, leaning forward. “She’s going to grow up knowing she’s loved and cherished. And when the time comes, if she has to face the world, she’ll do it with her head held high because she’ll know she has us behind her. Always.”

Azriel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body easing slightly at their reassurances. He glanced toward the doorway where Kaia had toddled off with Nyx. “She means everything to me,” he said softly.

“We know,” Rhysand said. “And that’s why we’ll all make sure she’s safe. You’re not doing this alone, Az.”

Before Azriel could respond, the sound of loud footsteps filled the air, followed by a cacophony of laughter. Torran, Emrus, and Calen came barreling through the room, yelling as they bolted toward the doorway.

“Nyx! Wait for us!” Torran called, his voice filled with excitement.

“We want to play too!” Emrus added, his little feet pounding against the floor.

Calen, the smallest, brought up the rear, his face lit up with pure joy. “Kaia! Come back!” he yelled, his high-pitched voice echoing as they all disappeared around the corner.

Cassian shook his head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face. “There they go,” he muttered.

Rhysand smirked, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee. “They’re your sons, Cassian. You only have your lack of self-control to blame.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his eyes lingering on the doorway where his daughter had disappeared. Despite his concerns, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “They’re going to wear Nyx out,” he said, the hint of amusement clear in his tone.

Cassian grinned. “Good. That’ll make things easier for all of us.”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his gaze settling on Azriel. “So, what do you say, brother? The cabin for a few days? We’ll make it work—for everyone.”

Azriel hesitated for only a moment longer before nodding slowly. “Fine. But if anything happens to Kaia—”

“Nothing will,” Cassian interrupted, clapping him on the back. “You have my word.”

Azriel’s lips quirked upward in a small smile. “You better keep it.”

Cassian’s grin stretched ear to ear, his hazel eyes lighting up like a child who had just been handed his favorite toy. He slapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, his voice booming with excitement. “The cabin! This is going to be amazing!”

Azriel raised an eyebrow at him, his expression unimpressed. “Amazing? You do realize this isn’t a vacation, right? We’re bringing five kids under thirteen with us, including my toddler.”

Cassian waved a dismissive hand, already pacing the kitchen like he was planning a military campaign. “Details, Az. Minor details. This is going to be an adventure! Fresh air, wide-open skies, and the boys can run wild while we sit back, relax, and maybe get some peace and quiet—”

“Cass,” Rhysand interrupted dryly, leaning back in his chair. “You’re describing a fantasy. Peace and quiet? With your sons in the mix? I’d say the odds are slim to none.”

Cassian pointed at him, undeterred. “First of all, my boys are angels—”

“Absolute terrors,” Azriel interjected, his tone flat.

Cassian ignored him. “—and second, they’ll be too busy with training to cause chaos. I’ll get them out there running drills first thing every morning. They’ll be so exhausted they won’t have the energy to do anything but sleep.”

“Drills?” Rhysand repeated with a smirk. “You’re taking them to the cabin, not a war camp.”

“It’s a lifestyle, Rhys,” Cassian said, puffing out his chest like he was imparting sage wisdom. “Besides, you’ll thank me when they’re passed out by sundown and we’re sitting by the fire with a drink in hand.”

Azriel crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. “And what about Kaia? She’s not exactly going to be running drills, Cassian.”

Cassian’s grin softened, a rare moment of genuine warmth flashing across his face. “Kaia’s going to love it. I’ll make sure she’s safe, Az. I promise. We’ll take her flying close to the cabin where the air’s gentler, show her the river, and teach her how to throw rocks into the water. Trust me, she’s going to have the time of her life.”

Azriel’s expression softened at the mention of Kaia, though he still looked sceptical. “She’s two, Cassian. Her idea of ‘time of her life’ is eating blueberries and hiding under blankets.”

“Exactly!” Cassian said, throwing his arms wide. “And the cabin is perfect for that! We’ll build her a blanket fort by the fire. She’ll never want to leave!”

Rhysand chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re really leaning into this, aren’t you?”

Cassian crossed his arms, his grin turning cocky. “Of course I am. I’m going to make this the best trip ever. Just wait—you’ll be thanking me by the end of it.”

Azriel sighed, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re mad, you know that?”

Cassian clapped him on the back, his grin unwavering. “And yet, you love me for it.”

Rhysand shook his head, lifting his coffee mug in a mock toast. “Here’s to surviving whatever Cassian’s version of ‘the best trip ever’ turns out to be.”

Cassian laughed, already mentally packing for the adventure. “Oh, you’ll survive,” he said confidently. “You might even enjoy yourselves. Trust me, boys—this is going to be legendary.”

Azriel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he straightened up. Cassian’s enthusiasm for the cabin trip was infectious, but the thought of Kaia being away from home in unfamiliar terrain still had him a little on edge.

“I’ll go find Kaia,” Azriel said, pushing off the counter. His shadows stirred, curling lazily around his shoulders as if they were ready to help in the search. “Nyx probably dragged her off somewhere to keep her entertained.”

Cassian smirked. “That kid’s already got more sense than you give him credit for. Kaia’s in good hands.”

Azriel shot him a look that said, That doesn’t mean I’m not checking. Without another word, he strode out of the kitchen, his sharp hearing picking up faint giggles echoing down the hall.

As he walked through the house, he let his shadows fan out, whispering to him about movement and noise. They swirled back, leading him toward the sitting room. When he stepped inside, the sight before him made him pause.

Kaia was sitting on the floor, her little wings fluttering as she balanced a small pile of stuffed animals on top of Nyx’s head. Nyx, sitting cross-legged and perfectly still, looked utterly resigned, though there was a small, amused smile on his face.

“Kaia,” Azriel said, his voice soft but firm as he crossed the room.

Kaia’s head whipped around, her big dark eyes lighting up when she saw him. “Dada!” she squealed, scrambling to her feet. She stumbled slightly before running toward him, her tiny wings flapping in excitement.

Azriel caught her easily, scooping her up into his arms. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone tinged with amusement as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Kaia leaned back, her little face glowing with mischief. “Pwaying wif Nyxie’s hair,” she declared proudly, pointing at Nyx.

Nyx raised an eyebrow, reaching up to pluck a stuffed animal from his head. “I don’t think this is what my dad had in mind when he said to keep her busy.”

Azriel chuckled, pressing a kiss to Kaia’s temple. “Thank you for watching her, Nyx.”

“Anytime,” Nyx said, standing up and brushing off his pants. He handed Kaia one of the stuffed animals she had dropped. “But fair warning—she’s a little too good at bossing people around.”

Azriel smiled softly, adjusting Kaia on his hip as she giggled and buried her face in his neck. “She gets that from her mother,” he said with a hint of warmth in his voice.

Kaia peeked up at him, her curls bouncing as she grinned. “Dada, we go?”

“Yes, love,” Azriel said, turning toward the doorway. “We’re going to the cabin, but first, we need to pack your things. Come on, let’s get you ready.”

Nyx followed them out, shaking his head. “This is going to be a long week,” he muttered, though there was a glimmer of affection in his voice.

Azriel glanced back at him with a rare, small smile. “It always is.”

As Azriel walked toward the staircase with Kaia securely in his arms, he glanced back at Nyx, who was trailing behind with a casual slouch.

“Nyx,” Azriel said, his tone calm but carrying the unmistakable authority of someone used to giving orders.

The 13-year-old straightened slightly, his sharp eyes meeting Azriel’s. “Yeah?”

“Go pack your things,” Azriel instructed. “Clothes, whatever books or games you want to bring. Make sure you’ve got enough for the week.”

Nyx sighed, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “Do I have to? I just got her to sit still. That was hard work, you know.”

Azriel gave him a pointed look, one that made Nyx quickly rethink any further protests. “Yes, you have to. Unless you’d like to be stuck in the same outfit for the next seven days.”

Nyx groaned but didn’t argue further. “Fine. But if I have to pack, I’m bringing all my stuff. Don’t complain when I take up half the space in the cabin.”

Azriel’s lips quirked upward in a faint smile. “Just pack what you need, Nyx. No more, no less.”

Nyx huffed, turning on his heel and heading toward his room. “You’re lucky I like Kaia and my aunt,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no real bite in his tone.

Azriel turned his attention back to Kaia, who was fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “Alright, little one,” he murmured, his voice softening as he kissed the top of her head. “Let’s get you packed up.”

Kaia wriggled slightly, her tiny hands gripping his shoulders. “I pack toys?” she asked, her words slightly garbled in her toddler speech.

Azriel nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Of course. Let’s make sure we grab your favourite ones, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she said happily, her wings fluttering as she cuddled closer.

Azriel carried Kaia into her small but cozy room, decorated in soft shades of cream and pale green. Tiny wooden shelves lined the walls, overflowing with stuffed animals, picture books, and small trinkets she’d accumulated in her two short years. Her favourite blanket, a deep blue that matched his siphons, was draped over the side of her crib-turned-toddler bed.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Azriel said, setting her down on the soft rug in the centre of the room. She plopped onto her bottom with a giggle, her tiny wings fluttering as she looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes.

Azriel crouched down and opened the small wooden chest at the foot of her bed, pulling out a soft travel bag embroidered with her name. “We’ll start with your clothes,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.

“Cwothes!” Kaia echoed, clapping her hands.

Azriel stood and moved to her little dresser, pulling open the top drawer where her neatly folded tunics and leggings were stored. He carefully selected a week’s worth of outfits—soft, comfortable pieces that would keep her warm in the cooler mountain air.

“Do you want to help, Kaia?” he asked as he folded a tiny tunic and placed it in the bag.

Kaia jumped to her feet, wobbling slightly before toddling over to him. “I hewp!” she declared proudly, grabbing one of the leggings he’d laid out. Her little hands struggled to fold it, but she managed to mash it into a ball and shoved it into the bag.

Azriel chuckled, his shadows curling around him like an extension of his amusement. “Good job, love,” he said, smoothing out the bunched-up fabric before zipping the main compartment.

Kaia beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “I so good,” she said with a self-satisfied nod.

“The best,” Azriel agreed, lifting her back onto the rug. He moved next to the shelf where her favorite toys were kept. “Alright, what toys do you want to bring?”

Kaia’s eyes lit up, and she immediately ran to the shelf, pointing at a stuffed bat nearly as big as her. “Batty!”

Azriel reached for the stuffed animal, handing it to her. “Batty, of course. Anything else?”

Kaia clutched Batty to her chest, her little face scrunched in concentration as she scanned the shelf. “An’...an’ Bunny!” she declared, pointing to a small gray rabbit.

Azriel grabbed the rabbit and added it to the bag. “Batty and Bunny. Anyone else?”

Kaia hesitated, then nodded. “Puppy!”

Azriel reached for the well-loved plush dog and handed it to her. “Alright, that’s three. I think that’s plenty, don’t you?”

Kaia pouted slightly but nodded, hugging Batty tightly.

Next, Azriel grabbed her favorite blanket from her bed. “We’ll need this,” he said softly, folding it neatly before tucking it into the bag. He also added a couple of her picture books, knowing how much she loved to have bedtime stories read to her.

Finally, he packed a small pouch with some snacks—dried fruit and crackers, her favourites—and slid it into the side pocket of the bag.

“There,” he said, zipping the bag shut. “All ready for the cabin.”

Kaia looked up at him, her big dark eyes shining. “We go now, Dada?”

Azriel smiled, scooping her up into his arms. “Not yet, love. Soon.”

Kaia rested her head against his shoulder, her tiny hand clutching the fabric of his shirt. “’Kay,” she murmured, her voice soft and content.

Azriel pressed a kiss to her curls, his heart swelling with a warmth he could never quite put into words. “Let’s go find the others,” he said, carrying her and the bag out of the room.

-----

You, Nesta, and Feyre stood in the grand room of the Day Court's estate, taking in the sweeping view of the sun-kissed landscape outside. The pale golden walls and sunlit windows were the perfect setting for a relaxing getaway, especially after weeks of chaos back at the Night Court.

As you set down your bag, you sighed with relief. “It feels so good to finally be here,” you said, dropping onto one of the plush couches and looking at the half-empty wine bottle beside you.

Feyre raised an eyebrow, a smirk curling on her lips. “Already drinking at 1 PM? I guess we really are living our best lives without any kids around.”

Nesta snorted as she opened a second bottle. “I’m not complaining. I’ve earned this.”

You laughed and took a sip, leaning back against the cushions. “I swear, every moment I get without Kaia trying to climb up my legs is a treasure.”

Feyre rolled her eyes but was clearly amused. “I thought we were all in agreement. A week off. I can’t believe we actually made it.”

Nesta chuckled. “We should’ve left sooner. It’s been a mess with the kids, but at least we finally get some peace and quiet.”

As if on cue, the door to the living room swung open, and Helion strode in, his hair shining like the sun itself. He wore his usual carefree grin, his amber eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Well, well, well,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he took in the three of you lounging on the couch. “The beauties have come without their beasts. Should I be worried about what you’re all getting up to without them?”

You smirked at him, feeling the familiar warmth of his teasing presence. “Helion, you’re just jealous you didn’t come with us. You know you can’t resist our charm.”

Nesta and Feyre both glanced between you and Helion, their curiosity piqued.

Feyre tilted her head. “Wait, you two know each other that well?”

Helion raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by their interest. “Know each other? We go way back. You could say I’m the loss of her life,” he said, a playful gleam in his eyes. “She’s the one that got away.”

You rolled your eyes, not at all surprised by his dramatic flair. “Not true,” you replied with a grin. “We slept twice, centuries ago. That’s all. And one of those times was when you were trying to win a bet on whether or not you could make me laugh.”

Nesta and Feyre exchanged looks, clearly intrigued.

“Twice?” Feyre asked, raising an eyebrow. “And you’re telling me there was nothing more between the two of you?”

Helion leaned against the doorframe with a knowing look, crossing one ankle over the other. “Ah, nothing more. The truth is, we slept, we laughed, and then we moved on. I’m the truth-teller, after all,” he added, smirking as if to say, don’t challenge me on this.

Nesta looked at you in disbelief. “So, you two really didn’t get together after all that?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “Nope. I’m not sure even Helion can hold a candle to the other men I’ve encountered. Besides, we’re still good friends.”

Helion’s grin widened as he walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder. “The best kind of friend, of course. The kind who knows all your secrets and still manages to make you laugh.”

Feyre laughed softly, clearly entertained by the banter. “Well, I’m glad you two had your fun. But, seriously, is there any chance you two would ever—”

“Stop right there,” you interrupted, holding up a hand to halt her curiosity. “Let’s just say we’ve both moved on. No need for more stories. My husband is way more than perfect for me.”

Helion chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I won’t embarrass you any further. But I still stand by my ‘loss of my life’ claim.”

You smirked, giving him a playful shove. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Just the way you like me,” he replied with a wink, turning to face Nesta and Feyre. “Anyway, welcome to the Day Court. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. And don’t let them fool you; they can’t resist a little sunshine every now and then.”

With that, Helion made his exit, leaving you, Feyre, and Nesta to settle into the quiet luxury of the Day Court, your laughter still echoing in the room.

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a surprised look as Helion left, their curiosity piqued by the snippets of your past that had come up in conversation. They were both clearly itching to ask more, and Feyre, ever the straightforward one, was the first to break the silence.

“You never told us about that,” she said, her voice half teasing, half incredulous. “How did we not know about you and Helion?”

You took another sip from your glass, leaning back and pretending to be nonchalant, though inwardly you were amused at their questions. You had definitely seen more than your fair share of shocked expressions over the centuries.

“You’re only in your thirties,” you said with a smirk, setting your glass down on the table beside you. “I’ve had more time to experience things than you can imagine. I’m in my five-hundreds, remember?”

Nesta raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but intrigued. “Still… How have we never heard any of these stories?”

“Well, the thing is,” you began, glancing between them with a knowing smile, “I’ve had more than just one adventure, if you will. Not just with Helion.”

Feyre blinked. “What do you mean? Like…”

You didn’t let her finish, taking an exaggerated breath. “I slept with Eris too. He’s a charming one, if you can get past his ego. Lucien wasn’t bad either. Good lover, actually.” You shrugged casually, enjoying the shocked expressions on their faces. “And let’s not forget Tarquin. I’ve seen my fair share of High Lords. being Rhysand's sister allows a lot of interactions with higher profiles.”

Feyre’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide in disbelief. “Tarquin? I would never have guessed!”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too excited. We never got very far,” you added with a teasing grin. “Just a few stolen moments here and there, but you know… Tarquin’s good company when you need it.”

Nesta was almost choking on her wine, unable to keep her laughter in. “Wait, so you really weren’t lying when you said you’ve slept with half the court?”

You raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, smirking. “Wouldn’t call it half, but yes, I’ve been around. But those are just the more notable names. There are more.”

Feyre shook her head in utter disbelief. “How have we been friends for so long, and you’ve never once mentioned any of this?”

“Because, darling,” you said, swirling your wine in the glass with a playful grin, “you two have been busy with your own drama. There’s only so much time in a conversation, and quite frankly, I enjoy watching you both unravel the mystery of my past.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes at you, clearly intrigued but also a little annoyed by the way you were making a game out of this. “Okay, fine. But I want to know everything. Tell me about Eris.”

You leaned back, folding your arms and smirking at them both. “Well, that’s a long story. Maybe after another glass of wine?”

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a look, both of them clearly hooked on your tales now, and you could tell they weren’t going to let this go. They were going to need all the details, and you were more than happy to indulge them in their curiosity.

For the first time in a while, you felt truly free. No responsibilities. No expectations. Just three old friends relaxing and laughing in the comfort of the Day Court—and the promise of a few more stories to tell.

part 2 part 3

A/N: Comments and reblogs would be appreciated, let me know if you'd like to be tagged

[inseobts]

Time Travel

trafalgar law x reader

what would happen if law finds himself back in the past where the person he secretly loved for years is still alive?

word count: 5.6k

tags: d3ath, time travel, angst, romance

masterlist // ko-fi

The battle had been hard fought, but victory was theirs. The crew of the Polar Tang had emerged victorious against a powerful enemy, though not without their wounds. Law stood at the bow of the ship, his eyes scanning the horizon, his mind too tangled with thoughts to focus on the quiet after the storm.

He wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

The sharp crackle of energy, a distortion in the very air around him. Before he could even react, the world around him swirled into a blur. His ship, his crew, the ocean—all of it seemed to twist and bend in on itself, until everything went silent.

Law staggered back, the strange sensation of time ripping apart around him leaving him disoriented. He couldn’t even register the shock of it before the world shifted again, and suddenly—

He was back.

But not back where he expected. Not where he was, not on the Polar Tang with his crew.

No.

He was on a ship—but not the one he’d been aboard moments ago. The crew around him was… different. Younger.

He looked around, taking in the familiar faces of his old crew. The same crew, but so much younger than he remembered. Shachi, Bepo, Penguin, and… his younger self.

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding. This wasn’t just an ordinary flashback. This was something else entirely. The situation was surreal...impossible, even. But there they were.

He was back in the past. The year when you were still alive.

The crew sense someone behind them and they all turn alarmed and see him, a familiar but different face. They gather on deck, buzzing with questions. Law stands with them, trying to appear composed despite his inner turmoil. His younger self stares at him with wide eyes, as confused as the rest.

“So… what exactly is going on here?” Younger Law demands, still clutching his sword, his eyes darting between the older version of himself and the others “You… You’re me, aren’t you?”

Law rubs his temples, trying to gather his thoughts. He can’t reveal too much, he doesn't know what happened and why he was there, but one thing he knows is that he can’t change anything that would affect the timeline.

“You could say that” he replies quietly “But I can’t tell you everything. It could alter the future in ways I can’t predict”

The crew watches, sit all around him, eager, full of questions. But Law can’t answer them. Not really.

"You don't look good Captain. It looks like something happened that changed you" Bepo says with a worried face "you look sad and dull"

"Yeah" Penguin nods looking between Law and his younger-form "did something bad happened? To us?"

"I can't say anything, I'm sorry" Law answers.

“Why are you here, then?” Shachi asks, his eyes suspicious but full of curiosity. “If you can’t tell us about the future, why show up? And you keep looking around like you're searching for something”

“I… I didn’t have a choice” Law’s voice is low, strained “I was brought here by someone or something. I can’t explain it. But I’m trying to make sure certain things… stay the same. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you"

Law clenches his fists at his side, wishing he could just tell them everything. But the risks were too high. There was no way to undo the damage if he did.

He shifts uncomfortably “Some things… are better left unknown. It's for your own good too”

Penguin watches him for a moment before lowering his head in understanding “I get it. It’s a lot.”

You, meanwhile, looked at the scene from afar. You were in the usual spot you used to hide in, watching quietly. You’re studying Law with an odd curiosity, but you’re noticing how different he looks from the man you knew.

Eventually, the questions begin to fade away, and the crew starts to break apart for the evening, everyone heading off in different directions.

Law feels a presence behind him and turns, seeing you walking toward him.

As you walk toward him, you see his face completely change expression, becoming one full of sadness and regrets.

He stands up abruptly.

“You’re not gonna run off, are you?” you ask, a small smile playing on your lips.

He blinks at you, surprised “I wasn’t planning to”

You tilt your head, studying him closely “It’s a little… overwhelming, isn’t it? All these questions, all these things you can’t talk about”

He stares at you, unsure how to answer. The weight of seeing you alive again is heavier than he could’ve imagined. Your smile is just as he remembers. Your eyes—the same ones he fell for so long ago—hold a curious warmth.

You break the silence again, your voice softer now “So… I promise I won't tell anyone. What happens to us in the future?”

It’s like a punch to the gut. Law wants to tell you. He wants to share everything with you... to make sure you know how much he loves you, how much he regrets never telling you before. But the words stick in his throat. He can’t risk changing anything. If he tells you too much, it could cause a ripple that would undo everything.

“You know I can’t say anything” Law says, his voice quiet, almost strained “I wish I could. But I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to change anything.”

You nod, almost as if you knew that would be his answer. You glance down at your hands, your expression thoughtful.

“Right… So I guess I won’t get any answers” You look up at him again, eyes searching his face for something “Well, there’s one thing I can ask that’s… probably safe.”

Law blinks, confused “What?”

You hesitate for a moment before asking softly, “Are we together? In the future, I mean. Are we… together?”

The question hits him like a bolt of lightning. His heart races, the truth weighing on him like a ton of bricks.

He realizes, suddenly, painfully, that he never really knew for sure if you felt the same. He never got the chance to know because he lost you before he could even confess his true feelings. And now, here you are, asking him, and he can’t give you the answer you deserve.

It was always a mutual love, but he never knew it. Not until now.

Law opens his mouth, but no words come out. He’s too caught up in the truth of it, in the painful realization that he should have said something sooner.

You smile, regret in your face for asking him that. You look down to avoid his eyes "I take it as a no..."

“I… I don’t know” he mutters finally, his voice barely above a whisper “I don’t know what happens.”

You smile faintly, as if you believe his lie “It’s okay. I guess… I guess I’ll just have to live to find out later on, right?”

He watches you for a moment longer, the pain of it all almost unbearable. You smile again, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

Later that evening Law walks quietly through the ship, his mind racing. He stops at the railing and looks out at the ocean, his thoughts heavy.

He wishes that you could survive, that you don't have to die the way you did. But how can he change the past without destroying everything else? Is it selfish of him if he is actually thinking about destrying the whole future to let you live?

Then he sees it—his younger self, standing on the deck, staring at you from a distance. The longing in his eyes is so clear, so painfully obvious.

Young Law’s gaze lingers on you, a soft expression on his face. He’s too scared, too silent, too unsure to say anything.

Now that Law knows about your feelings he wants to push his young-self into doing what he's so scared to do. Even if he can't change the future he wants the two of you to talk your hearts out so that in the future you won't die with the regret, so that he himself don't have to live with the same regret. Maybe the time you two have together isn't a lot but it's enough for living your love just a bit.

Law approaches him quietly, careful not to interrupt his thoughts. “You need to tell her,” he says softly “Before it’s too late.”

The younger Law turns, surprised, but doesn’t ask for clarification. He just looks back at you, still holding back, unsure.

“I can’t make you do anything, but if you wait, you might lose your chance forever” Law continues, his voice low, filled with the pain of his own unspoken words.

The younger Law says nothing, his gaze still focused on you. But after a long pause, he nods, a soft resolve settling in his eyes.

The next few days pass in a haze for Law. He tries to focus on the mission at hand, hoe to go back to his timeline and on the reason he was sent back in time—something about the crew’s safety and preventing a dangerous chain of events. But all he can think about is you, and the heartbreaking truth that he can’t tell you.

The most painful part is knowing that he’s already seen your death. He’s already lived through the pain of losing you, but now, seeing you alive again—alive in this timeline—he feels a gnawing desperation. He doesn't want that future to happen.

Later, on deck Law finds himself standing near the railing, staring out at the vast ocean as the crew moves around the ship. His thoughts are dark, clouded with regret, and he can’t seem to shake the image of you from his mind.

That push on his younger self wan't enough, but he can't risk more. His younger self, as always, is keeping to himself, sitting off to the side, hands on his sword. He’s quieter than usual, his eyes often drifting toward you—toward the woman he loves but hasn’t yet realized if and how to confess.

Law can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips. It’s a sharp, frustrated exhale, the weight of all the things he wants to say but can’t. It’s a constant battle in his head, fighting against the rules of time and destiny.

“Everything okay, Captain?” Shachi’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

Law turns to him, forcing a tight smile “Yeah. Just thinking”

Shachi looks at him, clearly sensing the tension, but doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he glances toward where younger Law is sitting, looking at you from a distance.

“Hey, what’s up with the kid?” Shachi asks “He’s been acting kind of… strange, lately.”

Law looks over, his gaze following Shachi’s. His younger self is staring at you, his expression distant but soft. There’s something in the way he watches you, something that Law recognizes all too well—longing, fear, hesitation.

“He’s… figuring things out” Law mutters, his voice heavy. He’s been hoping that his younger self would listen to him—that he would understand, act before it’s too late. But part of him still feels a lingering doubt.

“You think he’s gonna do something about it?” Shachi continues, raising an eyebrow “It’s kind of obvious he, or you for what it can mean, is in love with her”

“I actually don't know but I hope so” Law says, more to himself than to anyone else “I hope so”

Shachi nods and is about to leave when Law stops him "Tell me... was I always so obvious?"

He looks shocked to hear is Captain asking this but compose himself into a soft smile "We all knew from the beginning that you love her, you started acting different as soon as she arrived here. On the other hand y/n is more difficult to read"

This makes Law lose himself in thoughts again. The whole crew knew, this means they have a lot of regrets as well for what happened to you, to the both of you.

Later that nigh, the crew sits around the table, sharing a quiet meal. You’re there, of course, laughing with the others, the familiar warmth of your presence filling the room. Law can’t help but glance at you from time to time. He’s only allowed to watch you from a distance now, but it’s a sharp, painful reminder of everything he never said.

He catches sight of his younger self, who’s watching you too. This time, however, there’s something different in his expression. His eyes aren’t just filled with longing, they’re filled with determination.

His younger self stands suddenly, pushing his chair back and leave the crew confused. For a moment, Law feels a surge of hope. His younger self is acting on it. He’s going to do something.

On deck, under the stars, Young Law walks toward you, the weight of what he’s about to do heavy on his shoulders. You’re sitting by the edge of the ship, looking out at the night sky, lost in thoughts. When you hear him approach, you turn, offering him a warm, friendly smile.

“You sure you should be out here alone?” he asks, his voice hesitant “It’s a bit… quiet.”

You tilt your head, a teasing glint in your eyes “Isn’t that the point of being alone? You should try it sometime.”

He pauses, taking in your words, your smile. His heart beats harder in his chest, unsure of how to proceed. He’s always been like this—silent, holding back, afraid to say the things he really feels.

But now, after hearing Law’s advice, he knows what he needs to do.

“I… I need to tell you something” he says, his voice quieter than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued “What’s that?”

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He’s scared, but the truth has to come out “I… I like you. I like you more than just as a friend. I’ve always… I’ve always liked you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. But then, you smile, and it’s so bright, so genuine, that his chest aches with relief.

“I’m glad you finally said something” you reply softly “I… I’ve always felt the same way.”

His heart stops. The words hit him like a wave crashing over him, drowning him in warmth and hope “Wait… you do?”

You laugh softly, your eyes glimmering in the moonlight “Of course. It was pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

Young Law smiles, a small but relieved smile. He’s never felt this light before, this certain. For the first time, he’s no longer holding back.

Present-Law watching the scene from afar with the crew. Tears in his eyes because now he knows you got the chance to love each other even if for a short time.

Suddenly there's a blinding light and a few moments later when Law opens his eyes again he finds himself laying in a bed in the nurse of the Polar Tang. His mind is spinning..

He returns to the Polar Tang, to his crew, to the present. Was is all a dream? What actually happened?

Bepo at his side, sleeping.

He gets up waking him up and confused, the first thing Law asks "Did I ever got the chance to confess my feelings to y/n?"

"Captain are you okay? Why suddenly ask that?" Bepo says panicking.

Law sigh and firmly add "Just answer".

He's scared, he's scared it was all just a dream. Scared you died without knowing about his feelings just has it actually happened. Scared that maybe you actually never reciprocated his feelings, his love.

"Of course you did"

Law's eyes widened, his heart beating fast as never before. It wasn't a dream. He was actually able to change that small but important part of the past. You died knowing about his love. He lost you but not without giving you his full love.

He gets up and steps onto the deck.

There you are. Standing right in front of him, alive, vibrant, and here.

He stops, unable to breathe for a moment. His mind races. This can’t be right. He’s seen you die. He’s seen your body fall—he’s seen everything. But now you’re here, smiling at him like nothing ever happened.

“y/n?” He barely manages to choke out your name, his voice filled with disbelief.

You smile at him, a familiar, gentle smile “You finally woke up. What’s wrong, Captain? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Law’s world tilts on its axis. He can’t understand it. He doesn’t know how this is possible—how you’re alive in front of him now.

But there’s only one explanation: the confession. His younger self’s confession. Somehow, it saved you.

He watches you, stunned, his chest tightening as emotions flood him.

“I—I thought I… I thought you…” he stammers.

You tilt your head, noticing his confusion “What’s the matter?”

The weight of it all is too much for him. He can’t speak, can’t form the words. But deep inside, he knows this is it—the moment when everything changed. The future he thought was set in stone, the future that broke him, had shifted. And you… you were still alive.

He shakes his head, trying to collect himself. He knows he’s seeing you right in front of him, alive, as if the death he witnessed in the past never happened. He swallows, his throat tight, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming rush of emotions.

“You… You’re…” He struggles to speak, but the confusion weighs him down. It’s not just the shock of seeing you alive—it’s everything that led to this moment, everything that shouldn’t have happened.

You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer to him “What happened? Is something wrong?”

“No” Law says finally, his voice hoarse “No, nothing��s wrong. It’s just… I don’t understand.”

“Are you okay?” you ask, your voice soft with concern, breaking through the tangle of thoughts in his head.

Law doesn’t know how to respond. He doesn’t know what to say to you, not when everything feels like it’s slipping through his fingers. He’s terrified that this shift in fate—this small change—could lead to something even worse.

“I’m fine” he says, forcing a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. His mind is still racing, trying to process what’s happened. He doesn’t know how this happened—how the timeline could have been altered so drastically—but he knows one thing for sure.

“You’re here” he repeats, as if the words will make sense of the situation “You’re alive.”

You blink, a little confused by his intensity “Well, of course I’m alive, Captain. Why wouldn’t I be?”

A sharp pain stabs at Law’s chest as he recalls the past—the version of the future where you were dead. It had been so final, so irreversible. The pain of losing you had been one of the deepest regrets of his life. But now? Now, there’s a chance, maybe a small one, but still a chance, that things could be different.

The realization crashes over him like a tidal wave.

He looks at you again, this time with a weight that wasn’t there before. You’re alive. You’re here. And he didn’t have to lose you, not like before. His younger self had given him a second chance, and now… he has to hold on to that. He has to protect it.

He runs to close the distance between you two and hugs you like he never has. You're too schocked to move at first but then you put your hands around him.

Later, in the crew’s quarters, Law lies awake in his hammock, his thoughts spinning out of control. How could things change so quickly, so drastically? He can’t understand it. He should have never interfered, never given that advice to his younger self. But then again, he couldn’t let you die "again" without knowing that you were loved.

A soft knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts. He doesn’t need to ask who it is.

“Come in” he says quietly.

The door creaks open, and there you are, standing in the doorway. You look at him with a slight frown, your arms crossed over your chest.

“You’re still awake” you say, your voice gentle “Everything okay? You’ve been acting… different.”

Law sits up slightly in his hammock, his heart racing again. He’s never been good at hiding his feelings, and right now, his emotions are a whirlwind. How could he explain to you what he’s feeling? How could he tell you what’s going on in his head when he barely understands it himself?

“I’m… fine” he says, though it feels like a lie. He’s anything but fine. “Just thinking.”

You step into the room, closing the door behind you, and sit down on the chair across from him. “About what?”

“About… everything” he mutters “About how things are different now.”

You look at him, studying him closely. You can tell something’s weighing on him “Different how?” you ask, your voice soft but insistent.

He looks at you, torn between the need to protect you and the crushing urge to be honest. But he’s afraid of what that honesty might cost him. He’s afraid that if he tells you too much, it will change everything again.

“You wouldn’t understand” he says, his voice low. He can’t bring himself to explain the truth, at least not now.

You fake to be offended with a funny expression, and he loves when you do that because it makes you even cuter. You study him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Then, as if deciding something, you stand and walk over to him. Without a word, you reach out and gently place your hand on his arm.

“I understand more than you think” you say quietly, your fingers warm against his skin “You don’t have to carry all this on your own. You don’t have to hide from me.”

The softness in your voice, the warmth of your touch, cracks something deep inside him. His chest tightens, his breath catching in his throat. How could he have been so blind to what was right in front of him all this time?

He looks at you, really looks at you for the first time since he arrived in this timeline, and suddenly, he sees it all... the way you care for him, the way you’ve always been there, despite the unspoken distance between you. He realizes that he never really understood the depth of your feelings until now, and maybe that’s what changed. Maybe that’s the gift he was given, a second chance to finally get it.

“You’re right" he whispers, his voice thick with emotion “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

You look at him in surprise, your eyes widening slightly “What do you mean?”

He swallows hard, gathering the courage to say the words that have been buried deep inside him for so long.

“I… I love you” he says quietly, but with absolute certainty. The words feel like a weight lifted off his shoulders, the truth finally out in the open.

You smile, a small but genuine smile, and take a step closer to him “I think I’ve known that for a while”

You both sit in silence for a moment, you studying him while he's still lost in his thoughts. The weight of the admission must hit you differently, given all the strange tension and confusion his behavior has caused since his return to the present. But then you speak, and your words pull him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts.

“Well, if it’s any comfort, I love you too” you say, your tone light but sincere “I mean, you’re kind of an idiot sometimes, and you’ve got this whole ‘broody loner’ thing that’s exhausting to keep up with, but… yeah. I love you, idiot”

The way you say it, so unguarded, so natural, he didn't realise how much he needed to hear those words until now, even though they come from you here, in this altered present.

He exhales a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair “You really don’t make things easy, do you?”

You smirk, stepping closer to him, your arms crossing over your chest “That’s part of my charm”

Law shakes his head, the corners of his lips twitching upward despite the heaviness still clinging to him. For the first time since he returned to this timeline, he feels lighter—like the crushing weight of regret and grief that had followed him for years is finally lifting.

But there’s still a lingering doubt in his mind. Did he truly rewrite the future, or is this just a fleeting moment of borrowed time? And if things really have changed, how much has been altered?

You notice him deep in thought again, so you lean in and press a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek. The sudden gesture pulls him out of his thoughts, and he turns to look at you, his expression of surprise. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“Captain, why the shocked face? We’ve done worse than this” you tease, offering him a playful wink as you start walking towards the door “Sleep well now.”

On the Polar Tang, it doesn’t take long for the crew to notice the shift between you and Law.

“Uh, are you two… okay?” Shachi asks, looking back and forth between the two of you as you stand side by side on the deck.

You raise an eyebrow “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Dunno. Maybe because since the day he fainted, Captain here looks like he saw the ghost of his past mistakes?” Penguin says.

“Enough” Law snaps, his voice low but firm. He doesn’t need the crew making a spectacle of this, not when he’s still trying to make sense of everything himself.

You, on the other hand, seem entirely unfazed by their reactions. You smirk, leaning against the railing with an air of casual confidence. “What’s the matter, Captain? Wanna give them something to really talk about?”

Law groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. You’ve always had a way of getting under his skin, but somehow, it feels different now, lighter, even.

“Don’t you all have work to do?” he mutters, turning his back to them and stalking off toward the ship’s interior.

But as he walks away, he catches the faint sound of your laughter behind him, and for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t sting.

Later that evening, Law finds himself alone in his quarters, staring down at a stack of charts and papers he’s been meaning to sort through. But his mind isn’t on his work, it’s on you, on the way your presence has started to fill the cracks in his carefully constructed walls.

He still doesn’t know how this timeline shift works. Did his advice to his younger self truly rewrite everything? And if so, how much of the past is still the same? Did your future really change or is it just temporary?

His thoughts spiral as he recalls the moment his younger self finally confessed to you. It was a subtle nudge, a small push in the right direction, but it had changed everything. If his younger self hadn’t listened, if he hadn’t acted, would you still be gone? Would you have died with regrets, with unspoken feelings left between you?

A knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and he looks up to see you standing there, leaning casually against the frame.

“Captain” you say, your tone light but teasing “You’re brooding again.”

He sighs, gesturing for you to come in “What do you want?”

You step into the room, closing the door behind you “Just checking on you. You’ve been acting really weird lately”

Law leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest “I’m fine now”

“You always say that” you reply, walking over to stand in front of his desk “But we both know it’s not true. So what’s really going on?”

For a moment, he considers brushing you off, keeping the truth locked away like he always does. But then he looks at you, really looks at you, and he sees the concern in your eyes, the genuine care that you’ve always shown him, even when he didn’t deserve it.

And he realizes that maybe, just this once, he doesn’t have to carry the weight alone.

“I…” he hesitates, the words catching in his throat “I was afraid I’d lost you.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his admission, but you don’t interrupt, giving him the space to continue.

“There was a time when you weren’t here” he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion “And it was… unbearable. I didn’t know how to fix it, how to stop it. And now…” He looks down at his hands, his fingers curling into fists. “Now, you’re here, and I don’t know if it’s real or if it’s just another cruel trick.”

You take a step closer to him, reaching out to place a hand on his arm “I’m here, Law,” you say softly “I was always here with you and I'll always be. Whatever happened, whatever you went through… I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all he sees is the same fierce determination that he’s always admired in you.

For the first time since his return to the present, he feels a flicker of hope, hope that maybe, just maybe, this new future is something he can hold on to.

Most of the crew is asleep, leaving Law in the solitude of his quarters. He stares out of the small circular window, his mind a battlefield of thoughts. He knows he should be relieved, grateful, that you’re alive, but a part of him can’t let go of the fear. The fear that this could all slip away in an instant.

The soft creak of the door pulls him from his thoughts. He doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s you.

“You’re still awake... again” you say, your voice quiet but firm.

He sighs, his back still to you “I could say the same to you.”

“Touché.” You step further into the room, and the door clicks softly shut behind you “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous” he mutters, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself.

You roll your eyes, though he can’t see it “Funny. But seriously, I’ve been thinking about… us.”

That makes him turn. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, he feels his breath catch in his throat.

“What about us?” he asks, his voice low.

You take a deep breath, stepping closer to him “I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday. About how you were afraid you’d lost me.”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away “I shouldn’t have said that. It was selfish.”

“No, it wasn’t” you say firmly, closing the distance between you “It was honest. And I don’t want you to think you have to keep all of that to yourself anymore.”

Law exhales, running a hand through his hair “You don’t understand,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper “I’ve seen what it’s like to lose you. I’ve lived with it. And I don’t know if I can do that again.”

Your heart aches at the raw vulnerability in his voice. Without thinking, you reach out and place a hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“You won’t lose me” you say softly “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

He looks down at you, his eyes searching yours. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he wants to explain, but the words catch in his throat. Instead, he reaches up, his hand covering yours where it rests against his chest.

The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken emotions. And then, almost imperceptibly, he leans down, his forehead brushing against yours.

“y/n…” he murmurs, his voice trembling.

You close your eyes, leaning into him. “I’m here, Law. I’m right here. We chose a life that’s unpredictable as pirates. I know that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t allow ourselves to love. Do you think it would hurt less if we didn’t use the time we have together to love each other? Because I don’t think so. In fact, I think the opposite.”

Something inside him breaks at your words, the walls he’s so carefully constructed over the years crumbling in an instant. He tilts his head slightly, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative, almost hesitant kiss.

The contact sends a jolt through both of you, and for a moment, neither of you moves. But then you press closer, your hand sliding up to cup his face, deepening the kiss. It’s not hurried or frantic, it’s soft and deliberate, a silent promise that neither of you is willing to let go of this moment.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathing heavily, your foreheads still pressed together.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admits, a small, nervous laugh escaping.

You chuckle softly as his thumb brushing against your cheek.

You smile, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like the weight of the world isn’t resting on his shoulders.

“I mean it, Law” you say, your voice serious now. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He nods, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Thank you” he murmurs against your hair.

For the first time in years, he allows himself to hope, for you, for him, for a future that no longer feels so uncertain.

[cercandodiscrivere]

Damnatio memoriae | emperor caracalla x reader.

word count | 2k

warnings | 18+, NSFW, concubines, blood, dark themes (implied murder), mental health, porn with too much plot, unbeta'd.

synopsis | “Nothing was ever mine". He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. It’s almost like he’s sing-songing now, words rolling off his tongue. "Until now".

gifs by @fredhechingerdaily

Run. Run.

You are running, but the ground shifts beneath you. Screams tear through the air—familiar voices, distorted, distant.

The road is a river of bodies, writhing, pushing. Those who once praised now promised venegance – praetorians’ swords nothing to the rage.

Smoke curls in the sky, dark and thick. The air is burning with it. You stumble, slipping on something wet—hot, sticky, the scent of iron flooding your senses.

A fire blazes ahead, the orange glow painting the world in shades of red and black.

Blood. So much blood.

It fills your lungs, the sharp and suffocating smell.

Closer. Closer. The crowd surges. You push forward, but something pulls you back.

A hand touches your shoulder. Cold. Wet.

_

You are jolted awake, your eyes snapping open as you sit up in bed, heart racing. The dim light from outside filters in through the window, sending scattered rays of light across the room.

No one from the raging crowd outside has followed you into this room: the hands gripping you belong to someone you know.

Someone familiar.

Caracalla's fingers remain clasped around your shoulder — and even though you know you are awake now, the unsettling feeling remains, a sense of danger that lingers in the air.

The voices in your mind continue chanting: murder, murder, murder.

It takes a moment for you to quiet them down enough to find your voice.

“What happened?”.

His eyes are wide open, bloodshot and vacant: he stares at you and yet he is not seeing you at all. When he answers, his words are a nothing but a jumbled mix of accusations directed at the air behind your back: liar and traitor and ours.

“Are we under attack?”. Traitor, he’s saying. Maybe your dream was not at all a figment of your scared imagination; perhaps, just above your heads, angry individuals are truly storming through the halls.

If that's what's going on, Caracalla does not feel the need to confirm it. He remains as motionless as a statue —  his face just as pale as one — muttering under his breath, lost.

You reach out and grasp his arm, gently shaking him in an attempt to snap him out of his daze. “Are you injuerd?” but even as you are asking, you know he must be: his richly decorated tunic is soaked with blood, sticky and warm against your touch. In the dim light, you can't see the full extent of it, but you can smell the sharp metallic tang. You attempt to shift him closer to the light, feeling a surge of fear rising in your throat.

“Carus?”.

The endearing name falls on deaf ears. It’s just a repetition of traitor and liar and alwayshimhimhim.

He only comes to his senses when you attempt to rise and call a servant for help; then he he grabs your shoulder again, this time  with more force, and pushes you back onto the bed.

“I am fine”. He’s… chuckling.

For a brief moment, you question if this is all just another nightmare. Is Caracalla really in his own bed, sound asleep? Have the ongoing revolts taken such a toll on your sanity that you are now hallucinating him bleeding into your room?

Because there is no way for a man to lose that much blood and laugh as if nothing is wrong.

“Are you… hurt?”.

“Hurt?” he seems taken aback. “No, of course not”.

You take a deep breath as you finally have his attention. "Is it Geta?" you whisper, still concerned. "Is he injured?”.

Caracalla takes a moment to respond, his eyes darting around as if he's trying to gather his thoughts. His lips move, but the words come out in fragments. “He tried to strangle me”.

You stare at him, trying to discern if this is just another one of his warped jests — but there is no hint of humor in his expression. His brows are furrowed, a deep sorrow that animates his eyes again.

And yet, what he says could not be possible; their love for each other is too strong. There is no place where one can exist without the other. A wolf with two heads.

You nod to humor him, in an attempt to keep him focused on your face. “Geta tried to strangle you tonight?”.

“Tonight? No. No!” Caracalla now laughs, his usual mirth returning.

His face is stained in red, too: smalls pecks of blood that dot his cheeks. “Inside the womb”.

He’s rambling,you realize. He most likely fell and hurt himself, and he’s having another one of his episodes.

As you exhale, you feel a sense of calm wash over you.

The world around you is quiet; the concubine’s quarters are too distant from the entrance to hear the clamor of the crowds, but if the threat reached inside the palace halls, you would be able to hear it.

Things are under control. The praetorians have quelled the insurrection — Caracalla’s mind is rebelling on its own.

“I think you need a healer” you finally conclude.

Once again, he shakes his head — frantic now. “You don’t understand. I made it right”.

His hand jerks, digging his fingers into the skin of your shoulder. "Nothing is ever mine" he mumbles, almost as if talking to himself again. “Everything is ours, always”.

You wish you had a sweet and clever comeback; something that would snap him out of his delusions and bring him back to the real world – but you can't make sense of the words coming out of his mouth. His brother is better with this: he knows how to placate his mind, how to soothe the spirits that inhabit it.

“I’ll have a servant call Geta” you suggest — and yet this time it’s not his strength that holds you in place, but the look on his pale face. He’s livid, his usually kind features distorted with pure rage.

His gaze is no longer aimlessly wandering around the small room; his eyes are now dark and focused on you. Just the sight of him causes the hairs on your arms to stand upright.  

"No". His voice becomes more insistent as he continues. "No need. There is no Geta left to call. Don’t you get it?".

His features contort into a strange, almost anguished look as he gazes at you. "He can’t lie now”.

Confusion tightens your chest. "What do you mean? If Geta isn’t here, where is he? Is he—".

"He is fine" Caracalla interjects. The smile that follows is not a reassuring one. "He’s fine. You don’t need him. It’s just you and me now".

A sudden chill runs down your spine. In all the months you have spent as a concubine for the emperors, you have never seen him act so possessive.

While Caracalla is bashful and joyous, Geta often is the assertive one:

the brother who would have you down to your knees for entire nights just to show how superior he was.

Yet – Geta is not here, and his absence now feels unsettling.

"You don’t need him" Caracalla says again, as if he is the one trying to convince the other to see things with reason. "Nothing was ever mine". He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. It’s almost like he’s sing-songing now, words rolling off his tongue. "Until now".

His kiss, fierce and unexpected, feels more like a punch than a passionate gesture. The taste of blood—you are less and less certain this is his blood—lingers on his skin as he holds you tighter, pulling you onto his lap.

“You don't belong to him,” he whispers, pulling away briefly before his mouth crashes back onto yours. His teeth graze your lips, blood spilling in your mouth, mixing with his saliva. It's disturbing and disorienting, but you find yourself enjoying it even more.

“I decide now” he declares, now moving to your neck. He bites down like a dog — a wolf — would do with his prey, leaving bruises where his teeth dig in. You feel the thin fabric of your nightgown rip apart, and the chill of the night air hits your bare skin.

Caracalla's whispers fill the room.

His other hand, the one that is tightly holding onto your shoulder as if you might try to run away at any given moment, starts to palm your chest – and you prefer not to think about the thick, wet substance he’s coating your skin with.

The scent of blood fills your nostrils once more. “Mine”.

His soft whines fill your, an almost pathetic pleading sound. He's pressing himself against your leg, torn between the craving to have you and the need for something else first.

His tongue laps your neck once more before he finally speaks in a low whisper. “Say it” he pants. “Say you are only mine”.

You do. Whether it's true or not, in this moment, you are helpless under his control. “I am yours. Only yours.”

Caracalla is not one for foreplay, but when his cocks enters you, you are ready for it. You always are.

He eagerly begins to push and glances down at you, as if he wants to say something else; however, his gaze remains focused on something lower than your face.

Your breasts – now adorned with dark red lines where his hand had touched you before. The view holds him captive, stealing all of his attention.

His hips don't slow down as he traces patterns on your bare skin with his finger. If anything, the added stimulation only encourages him to move faster.

“You are gorgeous” he purrs. He pulls out and thrusts back in, a hard snap of his hips against yours that has you moaing.

Gods help you, you want to tell him how breathtakingly beautiful he is. How, to you, he has always been as bright as the sun. Radiant.

Yet — he’s consuming you entirely, rendering you speechless: so instead you hold onto his back with all your might and squeeze your thighs around his hips, urging him on. Yours yours only yours.

“No lies” he pants, his breath hot. He pounds into your harder, rougher, as if he has something to prove. His grunts are interrupted by small fits of laugh, delighted and unhinged.

Caracalla is ravenous. It's unusual, and you can't help but feel a bit unnerved – but at the same time you can’t stop the heat rising in your lower stomach. It's as if you're melting under his burning touches.

His mouth opens wide with a loud groan, and his eyelids flutter in ecstasy for a brief moment. You cling to him as you ride the sensation together — hands gripping each other, legs trembling and muscles straining as you hold on to him with all your strength. He keeps calling you mine as he he shakes and shudders in pleasure, his cock emptying inside you.

The world holds its breath, just for a moment, as Caracalla pants heavily against your neck. “You are so good for us” he murmurs, pulling out of you.  

You can feel his warm seed dripping down the inside of your thigh, mingling with the blood: the thought sobers you, right before Caracalla leans in to share one last kiss and moves.

You let him drag your body down next to him on the ground. It’s cold, but you don’t want to move: the man hasn't looked this peaceful in a while.

Caracalla absentmindedly starts playing with your hair, just like he used to do when you first arrived at the palace.

He strokes your skin with tenderness; his gaze returning to its usual soft demeanor.  

It’s him who breakes the silence.

“Tomorrow is going to be a great day”. His voice is calm now, eager.

You can sense that in his mind, he is already living out the grandiose moment that awaits him in the morning.

The blood on his skin has dried in a multitude of dark brown freckles. Some of them splash into his neck and torso; the right side of his body almost entirely stained by it, but he doesn't seem to notice or care.

It’s no matter. Nothing happened, that’s what he told you.

“Geta will be so happy for me”.

[talk-danmei-to-me]

pls pls pls pls make a list of all danmei people should read. I am thirsty for love and angst and pls be my salvation

Omg I can't say no to that!

Full disclosure, I've only been reading danmei since May. Also, I only read official translations. Others may be able to give a wider range.

But since you asked so nicely, let's go!

1) Yuwu/Remnants of Filth

Obviously, my number 1 is going to be the danmei I spend 80% of my time here trying to convince people to read.

Yuwu is a gift for fans of angst, literally opens with the MC getting stabbed in the heart and Meatbun doesn't let up from there.

Fun fact - the only Meatbun without non-con elements in the primary ship.

Sad fact - it also lacks her usual comedy.

Why I love it: Mo Xi, my princess, genuinely the saddest boy in all of danmei. I'm ridiculously invested in Ximang's quest for happiness.

2) 2ha/Erha/The Husky and his White Cat Shizun

At it's heart (at least to where the official translations are up to) 2ha is a romantic comedy. Tropes you may have found in other danmei hit so good (ghost weddings and shizun fucking).

Fun fact - Has my favourite confession scene out of all danmei I've read.

Sad fact - Being Meatbun's most popular work, you can basically collect spoilers like pokemon cards. Not even ao3 tags are safe.

Why I love it - Meatbun's smut writing is S tier and Mo Ran is one of my favourite protaganists... although he has some competition.

3) Ballad of Sword and Wine

I feel like I need to formally apologise for sleeping on this series after reading the first volume. It’s so, so juicy! Obsessed with the character dynamics and it’s always a winner when the main couple starts to dabble with each other in the first volume. It’s not Meatbun levels of smut peddling but I appreciate Tang Jiu Qing’s hustle. If you love courtly politics, graphic descriptions of violence and the most insane levels of sexual tension you will ever read. You need this danmei in your life.

Fun fact - I am as obsessed with Cezhou as Xiao Chiye is with the nape of Shen Lanzhou’s neck.

Sad fact - The sheer amount of characters will drive you insane.

4) To Rule in a Turbulent World

Enter You Miao! His introduction made me fall in love with him just as fast as I did Mo Ran! There's a reason everyone raves about chapter 3. Hilarious, horny and wholesome. The side characters are amazing, the main couple is adorable and it's giving hints of political powerplays. Also the first danmei I've read that seems to really deliver when it comes to skinship. The main couple literally can't keep their hands to themselves.

Fun fact - I'm only 50% through but I am buying every single Fei Tian Ye Xiang 7 seas is about to release day 1.

Sad fact - there's no pictures. Also I'm not sure how angsty it's going to get.

Bonus: For the toxic yaoi fan in your life

Meatbun's most unhinged work. She's peddling all the toxic smut fans of bl mangas and manhwas will be familiar with. Even though it's modern it made me nostalgic for that reason. He Yu is a clown and I adore him. Meatbun is airing all her kinks with this one and I'm not mad about it.

Fun fact- This is the first modern danmei I've read. Also, one of the more fun uses of the straight man trope I've read.

Sad fact - Vol 3 cliffhanger!

Why I love it - It's just pure Meatbun chaos.

(Am I just exposing myself as a Meatbun stan, probably, but she delivers every time.)

[cyborg-franky]

How do the boys (Zoro, Law, Kid and Ace) try to impress the girl they have a crush on? How do they act when their love is around? 👀💕

I have just had a week of being uncreative so I hope I didn't get too rusty. And I hope you enjoy this <3

I made it gender neurtral. Law x GN Reader Zoro x GN Reader Kid x GN Reader Ace x GN Reader

Law

He scoffs at the notion of showing off in front of anyone., let alone a crush. He’s not that kind of person. He doesn’t need to put on a show to impress you.

Law knows his superior intellect and amazing devil fruit are all he needs to impress you anyway.

Without realizing it, he’ll often info dump to you about the things he’s interested in, how to fix this bone, and how to treat that burn. 

He’s the kind of guy who needs you to know he’s the most intelligent person in the room.

That doesn’t mean there's nothing there, his crush means alot to him, and he can come across as an asshole when they are standing there listening to him over-explaining things.

He knows you think he’s a fantastic fighter. 

He doesn’t ask you what you thought of his moves, though. Instead, he listens intently to the chatter around the Tang, basking in your indirect praise and remembering what you liked about his performance the most. As long as you’re watching, he’ll aim to do better next time.

You are flattered he invites you to so many of his doctor duties, but you don’t need him to over explain taking blood, plus the needles, no thank you.

Zoro

Most of the time he’s not the type to go out of his way to impress anyone.

Maybe around his crush, he lifts heavier things, making sure their eyes are on him while he shows off.

But he’ll act like it’s nothing that he goes this hard every workout session.

When he’s resting, he flexes and gives you a little show.

Zoro thinks he’s smooth, but it’s really obvious to you.

How he smirked at your reaction when he picked up another weight seemingly effortlessly, though he could feel the strain.

He's the type of guy who is always lifting whenever his crush is around. 

He was still acting nonchalant as you complimented his form, impressed with how much weight he was pressing. 

He also loves to show off his sword techniques in front of you when a battle breaks out. His focus never wavers, but there is that little extra something he puts on just for you.

Kid

He’s a show-off, and he knows it. He gets louder and more volatile than usual. He has to make comments loudly to get your attention.

He works out in front of you whenever he gets a chance, putting on a theatrical display of his powers just for you. Not just in battle but as a general: Look what I can do! He claims he’s just fixing up the ship, but he needs your attention and praise as he swirls metal around in the sky, making things appear from thin air and turning junk into treasure.

“Get a load of this,” he barks, smirking as his metal arm grows. His massive fist clenches as he eyes you up, greedily absorbing every expression. 

“Pretty fuckin’ impressive, huh?” Oh, you know he knows it is, but you humor him by agreeing. You see how he puffs up his chest proudly cackles as he sends junk flying, making sure you can see just how powerful he is.

Ace

Ace is strange, he’s both full of himself and lacks self confidence.

He’s on the striker, enjoying the nice weather and playing around with the waves, just needing off the main ship, doing tricks on his personal boat.

“Oh wow, Ace!” his attention snaps to you as you watch him.

That’s when he starts trying to impress you, knowing you like what you see. “Oh yeah? Check this out then!” He calls, a big grin on his freckled face. He uses his fire to power the striker, going faster and faster, fighting against the waves as he pulls off more complicated and challenging tricks, all for you.

His attention is always half on what he’s doing and how the expression on your face changes with each stunt, getting more daring.

He loves it, loves your claps, adores how you gasp, knowing you care about him. Everything goes to his head as the tricks get elaborate.

He always tries to show off whenever you're around from that day forward.

[dfortrafalgar]

Mush

A short drabble for our favorite man.

Warnings: Reader is written to be short, short enough to not reach the top shelf at least

A/N: This was a single-page google doc that I started early last year, and I feel like I was going to continue it, but I have no idea where the rest of the story went in my head. But I think it's cute as a short ficlet :)

Trafalgar Law was a powerful man.  Captain of his own strong pirate crew, infamy following his footsteps everywhere he walked.  If his renowned hat and iconic sword didn’t give him away to strangers, his jolly roger certainly did, sticking out like a sore thumb when lined up next to other more traditional skull and crossbone designs.  Law knew his worth, he knew his status and rank as a wanted pirate captain, and he was damn proud of it.  Every day he worked to hone his devil fruit powers and grow stronger, leading his Heart Pirates with diligence, grace, and a firm, unwavering fist.  Indeed, Law was the very definition of a formidable, intense mind and body.

“Law, I can’t reach the spice jar on the top shelf, can you help me?”

Trafalgar Law was also a very weak man.  If irony was a person, they would be Law’s biggest schoolyard bully.

The sight of you on the tips of your toes, reaching up with your entire body length, one hand holding yourself against the galley’s metal countertop to keep yourself stable while struggling to reach the glass allspice jar that seemed miles away from your desperate fingertips.  You made Law’s ruthless, unrelenting heart melt into a puddle of gross mush.  The captain stood from his seat at the crew’s eating table, leaving the book he was skimming through abandoned to instead offer his help to you.  You stepped aside to allow room for the taller man who fetched the jar with embarrassing ease.  With a barely audible huff, he passed the item to you, and you graciously took it into your own hands.

The smile you flashed at him, bright and joyful like a mid-June day and stretching from ear to ear, was far better than a regular ‘thank you’ in his eyes.

“You’re the best, Law, seriously!”  You excitedly resumed your work flipping through a small journal full of baking recipes, eager to spend your downtime on the Polar Tang doing something nice for the rest of your crew.

And although Law struggled to admit it out loud, he’d do anything to keep that smile on your face.

Anything at all.

[unforth]

Danmei and Baihe C Novels and Manhua Officially Licensed in English

Things are getting licensed fast enough that keeping a list like this up-to-date is basically impossible, but I saw someone asking in the tags so I figured I'd try. All titles are danmei unless otherwise noted (very little baihe is licensed so far). I've included Chinese titles, but sometimes publishers change the original titles so much that I can't track them down, apologies. I've hit the link limit on this post so I've had to remove NovelUpdate links, but they're still in the version of this post on Wordpress. Note that Taiwanese titles are not included on this list.

This is everything I know of as of December 11, 2024. There might be more. I tried. Resources used to compile this list: Danmeinews.com; this Carrd, last updated in March 2023; this other carrd last updated October 23 2024; list of danmei with official licenses on NovelUpdates; a similar list on Goodreads; danmei-specific list on Reddit that to my eye looks accurate for the larger publishers but isn't thorough for some of the smaller ones.

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Seven Seas:

The full list of danmei novels licensed by Seven Seas is here. The full list of danmei manhua licensed by Seven Seas is here.

These titles are in various stages of publication, from "entire series released" to "license literally announced less than a week ago." As far as I know, all Seven Seas titles are available world-wide, through major distributors and libraries, and in e-book and print formats. Seven Seas translation quality varies but the editing is general strong and the editions are sturdy and nice. Note that Seven Seas isn't without controversy, especially for treating their contractors poorly resulting in them unionizing. Some people have also been unhappy with the fidelity of their translations compared to the original Chinese (I've been satisfied personally but ymmv).

Mo Xiang Tong Xiu titles:

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (Ren Zha Fanpai Zijiu Xitong)

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Mo Dao Zu Shi)

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Mo Dao Zu Shi) manhua

Heaven Official's Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu)

Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat titles:

Case File Compendium (Bing an Ben)

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun (Erha he Ta de Bai Mao Shizun)

Remnants of Filth (Yuwu)

Meng Xi Shi titles:

Thousand Autumns (Qian Qiu)

Peerless (Wushuang)

priest titles:

Guardian (Zhenhun)

Silent Reading (Modu)

Stars of Chaos (Sha Po Lang)

Fei Tian Ye Xiang titles:

Astrolabe Rebirth (Xing Pan Chongqi), written under the pen name Arise Zhang

Dinghai Fusheng Records (Dinghai Fusheng Lu)

Dinghai Fusheng Records (Dinghai Fusheng Lu) manhua

Joyful Reunion (Xiang Jian Huan)

Legend of Exorcism (Tianbao Fuyao Lu)

Mu Su Li titles:

Copper Coins (Tong Qian Kan Shi)

The Unseen Immortal of Three Hundred Years (Bujian Shang Xian San Bai Nian)

Lv Ye Qian He titles:

The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post (Shenmu Nao Bujin)

The Wife Comes First (Qi Wei Shang)

Other titles:

After the Disabled God of War Became My Concubine (Canji Zhanshen Jia Wo Wei Qie Hou) by Liu Gou Hua

Ballad of Sword and Wine (Qiang Jin Jiu) by Tang Jiuqing

BAIHE: The Beauty’s Blade (Meiren Jian) by Feng Ren Zuo Zhu

The Disabled Tyrant’s Beloved Pet Fish (Canji Baojun de Zhangxin Yu Chong) by Xue Shan Fei Hu

I Ship My Rival x Me (Wo Kele Duijia x Wo de CP) manhua by PEPA

HET: Love Between Fairy and Devil (Cang Lan Jue) by Jiu Lu Fei Xiang

Mistakenly Saving the Villain (Lun Jiu Cuo Fanpai de Xiachang) by Feng Yu Nie

My Husband and I Sleep in a Coffin (Wo he Laogong Shui Guancai) by Wu Shui Bu Du

Run Wild (Saye) by Wu Zhe

There’s Something Wrong with the Chief (Du Zhu You Bing) by Yang Su

Thrice Married to Salted Fish (San Jia Xianyu) by Bi Ka Bi

The Villain’s White Halo (Fanpai Baihua Guanghuan) by Hao Da Yi Juan Wei Sheng Zhi

You’ve Got Mail: The Perils of Pigeon Post (Fei Ge Jiao You Xu Jin Shen) by Blackegg

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Rosmei:

Rosmei licenses are Singapore distribution rights only. There is a list of international partners organizing group orders here. I've personally placed my orders through Yiggybean, as discussed in reply to this ask. Most of these titles are only being released as print editions, tho titles that weren't originally on JJWXC (of which there are several here) WILL have e-book editions. My first book from Rosmei arrived, and I found the translation and editing to be very strong. I can't speak to how accurate it may be to the Chinese original, but it read smoothly and had very few errors. Overall, though they've made some mistakes, they've been communicative and responsive.

Huai Shang titles:

Breaking Through the Clouds (Po Yun)

Hunt for the Leviathan (Po Yun 2 Tun Hai)

Ning Yuan titles:

BAIHE: At the World's Mercy

BAIHE (I think???) The Creator's Grace

priest titles:

Coins of Destiny (Liu Yao)

The Defectives (Can Ci Pin)

Drowning Sorrows in Raging Fire (Lie Huo Jiao Chou)

Other titles:

Albert, from Earth (Aerbote Laizi Diqiu) by Jie Mo Jun

Art Thou Ailing? (Jun You Ji Fou) by Ru Shi Wo Wen)

The Bat (Bian Fu) by Feng Nong

Beyond the Snowstorm: A Windborne Love (Wo Cheng Feng Xue) by Qi Wu Gou

Don't You Like Me (Ni Shi Bushi Xihuan Wo) by Lv Tian Yi

The Earth is Online (Diqiu Shangxian) by Mo Chen Huan

Everyone Loves the Cannon Fodder (Chuan Cheng Wan Ren Mi de Paohui Zhuma) by Qie Zai Shan Yang

Global Examination (Qianqiu Gao Kao) by Mu Su Li

Gold Class Enforcers (Jinpai Dashou) by Pao Pao Xue Er

How to Survive as a Villain (Chuanyue Cheng Fanpai Yao Ruhe Huming) by Yi Yi Yi Yi

Kaleidoscope of Death (Siwang Wanhuatong) by Xi Zi Xu

The Killer of Killers (Sha Qing) by Wu Yi

Love at First Thaw (Wang Chun Bing) by Fu Li

Nan Chan by Tang Jiuqing

Obsessed (Ki Ma) by Wu Chen Shui

Tailhook (O Gou) by La Rive Gauche

Tales of Zijin Temple (Zijin Si Ye Hua) by Yun Tun Tun

Wine and Gun (Jiu yu Qiang) by Mengye Mengye

You're Too OP! (Nimen Nansheng Da Youxi Hao Lihai O~) by Yi Xiu Luo

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Peach Flower House:

Unfortunately, Peach Flower House has gone out of business. Peach Flower House titles were primarily for sale through their website and through some distributors, such as Amazon.com. Whether titles are e-book only, print only, or both varied by title. In my opinion, Peach Flower House has inconsistent inconsistent editing quality, but the books are very readable.

Da Feng Gua Guo:

The Imperial Uncle (Huang Shu)

Peach Blossom Debt (Taohua Zhai)

Other Titles:

Golden Terrace (Huang Jin Tai) by Cang Wu Bin Bai

In the Dark (Zai Hei An Zhong) by Jin Shisi Chai

Little Mushroom (Xiao Mogu) by Shisi

University of the Underworld (Yinjian Daxue) by Ziloi

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Via Lactea:

The partial list of danmei novels licensed by Via Lactea is here, but there are titles I've seen them selling that aren't on this list.

Via Lactea titles are primarily for sale through their website and through some distributors, such as Amazon.com. All titles are either print-only or e-book + print. Only a handful have actually been released, the rest are licensed and presumably in progress. I've now read three titles published by Via Lactea and while the translations are decent I could wish the editing was more consistent. Everything reads as if it would have been improved by one more thorough proof read.

Jing Shui Bian Titles:

Salad Days (Jing Jiu)

Silent Hearts (Mo Mai)

Qing Lv Titles:

Painting Against the Natural Grain (Huahua Ben Shi Ni Tian Er Xing) by Qing Lv

Raising Myself in 2006 by Qing Lv

Other Titles:

Apocalypse (Quanqiu Jinhua Hou Wo Zhan Zai Shiwulian Dingduan) by Qi Liu

As I've Told You Before by Sheng Jiang Tai Lang

Dawning (Liming Zhihou) by ICE

Embrace You Till the End of the game by Hu Yu La Jiao

Euthanasia (Anlesi) by Feng Su Jun

The Fall of Summer (Ting Shuo Ni Hen Nan Zhui) by Jue Chu

Falling (Luo Chi) by Yu Cheng

I Can't and I Won't (Zhen Bu Xing, Zhen Bu Ke) by Yan Gui Kang

Psycho (Feng Zi) by Xiao Yao Zi

Limerence (Wo Xichen Ni Nan Pengyou Henjiule) by Jiang Zi Bei

Lingering Game (Chanmian Youxi) by Tao Bai Bai

Lip and Sword (Chun Qiang) by Jin Shisi Chai

May I Touch Your Spirit? by Qing Mei Jiang

The Missing Piece (Maoheshenli) by Kun Yi Wei Lou

The Omega Who Wants His Baby Back by Yao Yao Yi Yan

Rose and Renaissance (Wo Zhi Xihuan Ni de Renshe [Yule Quan]) by Zhi Chu

Killing Show (Sha Lu Xiu) by Fox

Soul Vibration (Linghun Saodong) by Dr.solo

To Rule in a Turbulent World (Luan Shi Wei Wang) by Gu Xuerou (pen name of Fei Tian Ye Xiang)

A Tyrant's Cover-up Plan by A Ci Gu Niang

Was I a Scummy Bottom? by Cheng Zi Yu

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Aloha Comics:

A tiny, Hawaii-based press focusing on manhua. Titles are available through major retailers such as Amazon and Bookshop.org. I've purchased one of these titles - Nirvana in Fire - and was please with the quality despite a couple minor errors.

All these titles are manhua!

Day Off by Qing Cai

Heaven Official's Blessing Animation Manhua by Bilibili and Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (this is a manhua made based on the donghua, using donghua art)

Here U Are by DJUN

Link Click by Li Haoling and Haoliners (not technically danmei!)

Nirvana in Fire (Lang Ya Bang) by Hai Yan (not technically danmei!)

-

Monogatari Novels:

Monogatari Novels is based in Spain. These titles can also be ordered from at least some major retailers. Note that there has been some controversy about Monogatari Novels. I'm personally not ordering these works until more information is available.

Due to a lawsuit between Monogatari Novels and BLoved Publishing, How to Survive as a Villain and The Legendary Master's Wife are currently on hold.

BAIHE: A Clear and Muddy Loss of Love (Jing Wei Qing Shang) by Please Don't Laugh

BAIHE: Female General and Eldest Princess (NuJiangjun he Zhang Gongzhu) by Please Don't Laugh

How to Survive as a Villain (Chuan Yue Cheng Fanpai Yao Ru He Huo Ming) manhua by Yi Yi Yi Yi

The Legendary Master's Wife (Chuanshuo Zhi Zhu de Furen) by Yin Ya

The Silent Concubine (Ya Nu) by Qiang Tang

BAIHE: Soulmate manhua by Wenzhi Lizi

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BLoved Publishing:

ngl I can't figure out exactly what is up with this, and there seems to be some controversy related to them and their relationship with Monogatari Novels. Their website is depressingly low on details. However, this list is for completeness, so here we are.

Due to a lawsuit between Monogatari Novels and BLoved Publishing, How to Survive as a Villain and The Legendary Master's Wife are currently on hold.

How to Survive as a Villain (Chuan Yue Cheng Fanpai Yao Ru He Huo Ming) manhua by Yi Yi Yi Yi

The Legendary Master's Wife (Chuanshuo Zhi Zhu de Furen) by Yin Ya

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Chaleuria:

As far as I can tell, Chaleuria has not updated their webpage since April 2023, so the current status of in-progress titles is unknown. All titles are digital and/or e-book, and I'm not sure how to purchase them as I haven't tried.

The Complete Guide to the Use and Care of a Personal Assistant (Zhuli Shiyong Zhinan) by Why Radiance

Deep in the Act (Ru Xi) by Tongzi

Fake Slackers (Wei Zhuang Xue Zha) by Mu Gua Huang (no longer available)

From Body to Love (Leng Yan E Nan: Xian Shenhou Ai) by Wan Wan Yi Xia

Interstellar Power Couple (Xingji Qiangli Lianyin) by Kun Cheng Xiongmao (no longer available)

Intoxicated Friends (Zui Qing Zhi Pengyou) by Ye Shu Ying

The Long Chase for the President's Spouse (Zongcai Zhui Fu Lu Manman) by Three Thousand Crow Language

No Money No Divorce (Mei Qian Lihun) by Shou Chu

Reborn into a Hamster for 233 Days (Chong Shengcheng Cangshu de 233 Tian) by Yi Shu

Records of the Dragon Follower (Cong Long Ji) by Yueren Ge

Urban Tales of Demons and Spirits (Dushi Yaogui Lu) by Qie Er

World Hopping: Avenge Our Love (Ni Wufa Yuliao de Fenshou, Wo Du Neng Gei Ni Song Shang) by Xiaomao Bu Ai Jiao (no longer available)

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Webnovel:

When I first made this list, I heard that Webnovel had a few titles but couldn't actually find them - but now I've found them, thanks to a list someone else put together. I'm including direct links to them, since I had so much trouble finding them at all.

Comrade: Almost a Cat-astrophic Love Story (Jintian ye Yao Nuli Dang Zhimao) by Demonic Fire (link)

My Boyfriend is a Dragon (Nanpiao Shi Tiaolong) by Chubby Strawberry Sauce (link)

The National Sweetheart Livestreamer is a Pro! (Quanmin Zhubo Shi Duiba) by Mo Shang Wang (link)

-

Honorable Mentions:

There are a handful of titles I know of that are official translations of C Novels. These are not books with contextual queerness, but for folks with an interest in Chinese history and culture, they are worth checking out anyway, especially because understanding these stories can help understand the above books. Also, some have active shipping fandoms (for example, I've written for Romance of the Three Kingdoms and Daomu Biji). I've included two above under the entry for titles from Aloha Comics (Link Click and Nirvana in Fire) and here are a couple others I currently know of:

Dream of the Red Chamber (Hong Lou Meng) by Cao Xueqin, available in translation for free from Project Gutenberg

The Grave Robbers’ Chronicles (Daomu Biji) by Nanpai Sanshu (six volumes are available in English from Things Asian Press)

Journey to the West (Xiyou Ji) by Wu Cheng-en, in four volumes from University of Chicago Press

The Legend of the Condor Heroes (She Diao Yingxiong Chuan) by Jin Yong, in four volumes from St. Martin’s Press

Romance of the Three Kingdoms (Sanguo Yanyi), attributed to Luo Guanzhong, available in translations for free from Archive.org

The Seven Heroes and Five Gallants (Zonglie Xiayi Chuan), attributed to Shi Yukun, available in translation for free from Archive.org

Water Margin (Shuihu Zhuan) by Shi Nai’an, from Tuttle Publishing

RESOURCE: List of Chinese speculative fiction in English translation

RESOURCE: More Chinese speculative fiction in English translation

I will add to the "Honorable Mentions" list if I find any other more mainstream titles with official translations.

-

Rumored Licenses:

Sometimes, I hear rumors about titles being licensed before the license is announced - and thus before we know which publisher has licensed them (assuming the rumor is even true). I thought I should note these somewhere. Titles I know of rumors about currently are:

A Certain Someone (Moumou) by Mu Su Li

Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know (Mozun Ye Xiang Zhidao) by Cyan Wings (a Spanish edition of this has been formally announced, which might account for the rumor)

The Fourteenth Year of Chenghua (Chenghua Shisi Nian) by Meng Xi Shi

Guide on How to Fail at Online Dating (Wanglian Fanche Zhinan) by Jiang Zi Bei

Immortal Koi is Going to Debut (Jinli Daxian Yao Chudao) by Mo Xi Ke

Mist (Bowu) by Wei Feng Ji Xu

-

A handful of other licenses are mentioned on the Carrd I linked at the beginning of this post; I have no idea the status of those titles and wasn't able to find information on them while putting together this post other than what was listed on that Carrd, so I've omitted them.

Now go forth, and buy some books!

[niteshade925]

April 20, Beijing, China, National Museum of China/中国国家博物馆 (Part 6 – Ancient Chinese Jade exhibition/中国古代玉器展 and part of The Power of Science and Technology exhibition/科技的力量展):

Starting with the Ancient Chinese Jade exhibition today, this is a Qing dynasty (1644 - 1911) Qianlong era (1736 - 1796) jade brush holder. It's impossible to tell from this angle (my bad lol), but the relief on this brush holder actually depicts the Sanxing/三星 (lit. "three stars"), which is the name of a group of three Daoist deities: Fuxing/福星 (lit. "Fortune Star"; Jupiter), Luxing/禄星 (lit. "Prosperity Star"; Mizar of Ursa Major), and Shouxing/寿星 (lit. "Longevity Star"; Canopus). These three gods are frequently depicted together for auspiciousness.

A Qing dynasty Qianlong era jade gaiwan/盖碗 (lit. "lidded bowl"), decorated with gold inscription of Qianlong Emperor's poetry and plum blossoms. Gaiwan are a specific type of Chinese tea cup that can be used to both infuse tea and drink tea, and may consist of three parts--a bowl, a lid, and a saucer. Because of this three-part structure, it's also called sancaiwan/三才碗, where the lid, bowl and saucer correspond to "heaven", "human", and "earth" respectively. Alternatively gaiwan can be more literal like the one here, which only has a bowl and a lid. Some say the gaiwan originated in Sichuan in Tang dynasty (618 - 907 AD), but evidence suggests that true gaiwan (with lid) only appeared in late Ming dynasty to early Qing dynasty (around 16th-17th century). Gaiwan was very popular in Qing dynasty and remains popular today.

Left: Ming dynasty (1368 - 1644) diancui/点翠 and jade ornament, with egrets and lotuses carved into the jade part. As mentioned before in the second historical fashion exhibition post, diancui (the blue parts) is a method of decoration that uses the iridescent feathers of kingfishers. Because all species of kingfishers are now protected by law, all diancui on the market currently are imitations.

Right: Ming dynasty wooden table screen with carved jade insert depicting a dragon. This is pretty cute tbh considering how small it is

Qing dynasty jade decor called a shanzi/山子, with a visual depiction of the chengyu 老马识途 ("old horses know the path") carved into the jade. Shanzi pieces are characterized by their retainment of the original shape of the jade, and depictions of scenes and stories within the jade with methods including reliefs, full reliefs, and openwork sculpting.

Left: Jin dynasty to Yuan dynasty (1115 - 1368) jade ornament depicting chrysanthemum flowers.

Middle left: a Ming dynasty copper daikua/带銙 (basically belt decoration) inlaid with carved jade depicting deer and pines.

Middle right: a Qing dynasty jade pendant in the shape of two badgers.

Right: Qing dynasty jadeite daigou/带钩 (basically belt buckle) with fish and bat motifs. In traditional Chinese symbolism, fish symbolizes "surplus" (鱼 is a homophone of 余), and bats symbolize "fortune" (蝠 is a homophone of 福).

Notice how each of the above pieces utilize the colors inherent in the jade itself to lend color to the subject depicted. This method is still widely used today in modern jade/stone sculpting, and sometimes the finished piece can be stunning. Here's a modern example that's not from this exhibition: the piece 山乡晨曦 ("Mountain Village in Dawn's Light") by 黄日富. This entire scene is fashioned from a single stone.

And back to the exhibition, I forgot to take pictures of the placards for the next two artifacts, and the museum's complete online catalogue doesn't have a search function (UGH)......so I'll put my best guess here, but don't take my word for it lol

A jade decor depicting a dragon, probably from either Ming or Qing dynasty:

This seems to be a jade jianzhi/剑璏, no idea what time period it's from. Jianzhi are basically flat belt loops attached to the sheath of the jian sword scabbard, so that the jian sword may be carried on its owner's belt.

And onto The Power of Science and Technology exhibition. The pictures I'm sharing here will be primarily focused on ancient Chinese science and technology.

Ink rubbing of the famous Southern Song dynasty (1127 - 1279) star chart stele (called 天文图碑 in Chinese), showing the positions of the Chinese constellations. This star chart was drawn by Southern Song dynasty astronomer Huang Shang/黄裳 based on observations made between 1078 and 1085 (during Northern Song dynasty), and the stele was erected in 1247. The stele itself still stands in the Confucian Temple in Suzhou, China. Here's a link if anyone wants to see a clearer image of the rubbing (to avoid confusion: the rubbing in this webpage was made in Qing dynasty, but the stele was erected in 1247).

Chart of the Twenty-Eight Mansions/二十八宿 from the Ming dynasty illustrated encyclopedia Sancai Tuhui/三才图会, Volume 1. The Twenty-Eight Mansions are regions around the ecliptic used to identify the location of the Sun, Moon, Venus, Jupiter, Mercury, Mars and Saturn. This is an important concept for both traditional Chinese astrology and astronomy.

Top left: ancient observation of a solar eclipse documented in the Book of Documents/《尚书》.

Top right: ancient observation of Halley's Comet in fall of 613 BC documented in Spring and Autumn Annals/《春秋》. Apparently Chinese historical records never missed a single observation of the return of Halley's Comet from 240 BC to 1986, which is pretty amazing (note: this author may have made a mistake regarding the year of the observation recorded in Spring and Autumn Annals).

Bottom left: ancient observation of a nova documented in Book of Han/《汉书》 (completed in 111 AD).

Bottom right: ancient observation of a sunspot documented in Book of Han.

If one flips through any of the 24 official histories of China (二十四史), one will find these records of historical events peppered with observations of astronomical phenomena. This is because of the traditional Chinese astrology concept known as "interactions between heaven and mankind" (天人感应), where it's believed that whatever happens in the heavens will be reflected in the mortal realm in some way, and vice versa. Because of this indistinction between astronomy and astrology, the vast majority of Chinese dynasties would have an imperial bureau set up just to observe, record, calculate, and interpret the movement of celestial bodies and astronomical phenomena, since these were viewed as reflections of the state and fate of the entire country. In reality however, this bureau often functioned as a special panel of political advisors to the emperor. This bureau is referred to by different names throughout Chinese history, but the two most well known names are 司天监 and 钦天监.

A representation of a piece of ox scapula oracle bone from Shang dynasty (~1600 - 1046 BC; original artifact is in this museum) inscribed with terms from the Sexagenary Cycle, called Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches (tiangandizhi/天干地支) in Chinese, or Stems and Branches (ganzhi/干支) for short. This cyclical system of 60 terms is used to record the year, month, day, and hour in traditional Chinese calendar (for example right now is still the year 甲辰, but after Chinese New Year, it will be the year 乙巳); however, in Shang dynasty, this system was only used to record days. The Sexagenary Cycle is still used by traditional Chinese painters and calligraphers when dating their works.

Four of the calendars used in different time periods in Chinese history, the Taichu Calendar/太初历 of Han dynasty (top left), created in 104 BC; the Daming Calendar/大明历 of Southern dynasty (top right), created in 462 AD; the Dayan Calendar/大衍历 of Tang dynasty (bottom left), created in 729 AD; and the Shoushi Calendar/授时历 of Yuan dynasty (bottom right), created in 1281. All of these are lunisolar calendars.

The Northern Song dynasty (960 - 1127) official military compendium Complete Essentials for the Military Classics/《武经总要》, by Zeng Gongliang/曾公亮 and Ding Du/丁度. The version seen here is the version included in the Qing dynasty book collection Complete Library of the Four Treasures/《四库全书》, completed in 1782.

And the book that has appeared a couple times throughout this series of posts already, the Ming dynasty illustrated encyclopedia Sancai Tuhui/《三才图会》:

This is the Ming-era Chinese translation of the mathematical work The Elements by Euclid, titled 《几何原本》. The translators were the Jesuit missionary Matteo Ricci and Xu Guangqi/徐光启 (there's more information on the placard).

Here is one of the ways in which ancient Chinese science and technology still contributes to the world today, a lesser known example than the famous Four Inventions: the discovery of the antimalarial drug artemisinin (named qinghaosu/青蒿素 in Chinese) by Chinese chemist Tu Youyou/屠呦呦 in the 1970s. Artemisinin is derived from the plant Artemisia annua L., which was recorded in The Handbook of Prescriptions for Emergency Treatments/《肘后备急方》, a book on traditional Chinese medicine written by Ge Hong/葛洪 in 340 AD, as effective against malaria. Since its discovery, artemisinin and its derivatives have saved millions of people, and are now recommended by the WHO as part of the frontline therapy for malaria. For her discovery of artemisinin, Tu Youyou was awarded the Nobel Prize in Medicine in 2015. On display here are Tu Youyou's letter to the Chinese plant biologist Qian Yingqian/钱迎倩, and her revisions to the draft of Discovery and Development of New Antimalarial Drug Qinghaosu (Artemisinin).

For thousands of years, Chinese people gazed at the stars in awe and wonder what messages the heavens wished to convey. Today, with modern science and technology, the heavens are not so mysterious and out-of-reach anymore, and people can appreciate the universe simply for its vast beauty. In 2013 China sent its first lunar rover, Yutu/玉兔, to the moon. In 2020, Chang'e 5/嫦娥五号 brought back a sample of lunar soil. The names of Yutu and Chang'e come from the names of the moon rabbit and the moon goddess of traditional Chinese mythology respectively (here's an old post I wrote on Chang'e and the moon rabbit, if anyone's interested in the legend).

Left: 1:1 model of the 2013 Yutu/玉兔 rover. (both pictures from National Museum of China official site; I saw the actual model and the actual sample but didn't take a picture of it)

Right: part of the lunar soil sample that Chang'e 5 brought back in 2020.

Looking at the lunar soil sample really made me appreciate how far humanity has come, and how much China has developed. I remember witnessing China's first manned spaceflight in 2003, that was just a little over 21 years ago. These are truly exciting times.

Phew. Another post that ended up being way more involved than I initially thought......the next post will be the last one of the museum posts in the 2024 China series, and it will be on the history of tea, wine, and food in China (mmm). It will be posted by the Friday before Chinese New Year. Stay tuned!

[earthlybeam]

Hi there! :) I was so absorbed in your most recent work about the magical healing powers, it was so soothing to the soul! Is there any way you can create one with Legolas?

How would Legolas react to a reader who possesses magical healing powers similar to Rapunzel in Tangled?

The you the reader’s long as (your own hair colour) but turns golden and glows when you sing a special song, releasing healing magic that can heal wounds, cure sickness, and even restore life. Their magic, known as “Healing Magic” or “Sun Magic,” is connected to the power of the sun and can even reverse aging.

🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

The battle had raged for what felt like an eternity, the air thick with the acrid stench of smoke and the iron tang of blood. Legolas, a figure of grace and deadly precision, had fought with unmatched skill, each arrow loosed finding its mark with a quiet, deadly whisper. His movements were fluid, a blur of elven finesse as he wove through the chaos, his bow singing with the rhythm of the battlefield. But even the most seasoned warrior could be caught off guard. Amidst the frenzy of clashing steel and snarling beasts, Legolas’s sharp senses betrayed him for a brief moment. A massive orc, its eyes filled with primal fury, surged toward him from the smoke. With a brutal growl, it swung a jagged blade in a wide arc, aiming for Legolas’s side. The strike was swift, too fast for him to fully evade. The blade tore through his leather armor, biting deep into his flesh. The pain was immediate and excruciating, the sharpness of the wound sinking through him like a searing hot brand.

Legolas gasped, his breath hitching as the blood surged from the deep gash in his side. His legs, once sure and strong beneath him, buckled under the weight of the pain. His vision blurred in a haze of red, the edges of his world fading with the pounding of his heart. His knees gave way, and he collapsed to the ground, unable to stay upright any longer. His hand clutched at the wound, but the blood continued to flow, staining his tunic and soaking the earth beneath him. He could still hear the battle raging around him, the clash of swords and the cries of warriors, but it all seemed so distant now, as if the world had grown quieter, more distant. He tried to summon the strength to rise, to fight on, but the weight of the injury was too great, and his vision dimmed as he slumped against the cold earth.

You had seen him fall—his form a flash of silver and gold amidst the chaos and rubble of the battlefield. For a brief, frozen moment, time seemed to stretch, and your heart lurched painfully in your chest. Every instinct screamed in panic, and before you could process what had happened, your legs were already carrying you toward him, driven by a singular, unyielding purpose: Legolas. The destruction around you seemed to blur, the cries of war fading into the background as you sprinted through the smoke and carnage, your only thought on the fallen elf. As you reached him, the sight of him nearly shattered you. There, in the bloodied soil, he lay crumpled and broken, the once graceful and proud warrior now a shadow of himself. His skin was pale, and the usual radiance of his features was clouded with the deep lines of agony. His golden hair, usually so immaculate, was matted with sweat and dirt, and his armor was streaked with blood—his blood. His side was stained with crimson, the wound a cruel gash that had robbed him of his strength. His breathing came in ragged gasps, each one shaking him with tremors of pain. His eyes, once sharp and full of life, were dull now, glazed with exhaustion, the fierce spark of his spirit dimming.

“Legolas,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you knelt beside him. Trembling, you reached out and gently cupped his face in your hands, the coldness of his skin seeping into your fingertips, sending a chill through your very soul. His pale lips parted, and his breath came in a shuddering sigh, barely more than a whisper. “You should not have come,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and weak, like a dying wind. The words were full of pain, but there was a faint undertone of resignation, a weariness that reached deep into your heart. “It is too late for me.”

“No,” you said, your voice thick with emotion, trembling as you fought to hold back the torrent of fear and sorrow that threatened to overwhelm you. Your eyes, already glistening with unshed tears, locked with his—desperate, pleading. “You are not beyond saving.” Your hands shook as you moved them to his wound, desperate to do something, anything, to staunch the flow of blood that stained the earth beneath him. With trembling fingers, you gathered a lock of your own hair, long and (your hair colour), and carefully wrapped it around the gaping wound on his side, trying to bind it with all the gentleness you could muster, despite the urgency gnawing at your every movement. The sight of him—so frail, so vulnerable—stirred a protective fire deep within you, a fierce resolve that you would not lose him, not like this. Not without a fight.

Once you had carefully wrapped your hair— (your hair colour), like the night sky—around his wound, you felt a surge of determination rise within you. With trembling hands, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. The weight of the moment pressed heavily upon you, but as always, you found solace in the one thing you knew could help. Your eyes fluttered closed, and with a steadying exhale, you began to sing. The melody flowed from your lips as naturally as breathing, soft and haunting, carrying with it an ancient power—an echo of long-forgotten magic. The words rose gently, like a prayer whispered into the wind, filling the air with their quiet strength. “Flower, gleam and glow, Let your powers shine,” your voice was a delicate thread of sound, weaving through the tumultuous silence around you, rising like a beacon of hope.

As you sang, the very fabric of reality seemed to shift. A golden warmth began to stir, a light that flickered softly at first, then grew, washing over you both in a radiant glow. Your dark hair, once so deep and shadowed, shimmered and turned, strand by strand, into a golden hue. It was as though the sun itself had chosen to bless you, each lock now glowing like threads of light, as if the very magic of your song had imbued your hair with its ancient power. “Make the clock reverse, Bring back what once was mine,” you sang, your voice rising, carrying the weight of your desire for his healing. The words seemed to vibrate through the very air around you, reaching deep into the earth, into the bones of the world itself, calling forth the strength of the past to repair the present.

As you sang the familiar refrain, “Heal what has been hurt, Change the fates’ design, Save what has been lost, Bring back what once was mine,” a warmth spread from your hands, wrapping around Legolas’s wounded side. The golden glow of your hair bathed him in light, casting long shadows in the smoke-filled night, yet it was as if all the darkness around you couldn’t touch the warmth of that glow. For a moment, everything seemed to still. Legolas’s eyes, which had been clouded with pain, fluttered open. The dazed, pained expression on his face softened as he gazed at you, wide with awe and wonder. His breath caught, steadying as he took in the sight of you, bathed in light, singing with such grace and power. There was a quiet reverence in his gaze, as if he, too, could feel the ancient magic swirling around you both.

As the last notes of your song faded into the air, you could feel the change. The pain that had clenched Legolas’s body, the cruel wound that had threatened to claim him, began to ebb. The glow of your hair intensified, weaving into his wound, healing it. The flesh began to mend, slowly at first, and then more rapidly, knitting together as though the wound had never existed. The jagged edges smoothed, the bleeding stopped, and the gash was sealed, leaving nothing but faint, healed skin behind. The golden light around you both softened, leaving only the gentle warmth of your presence. His breathing steadied, and you felt his body relax beneath your touch. It was a moment of quiet relief, the ancient magic doing its work, and in the stillness, you knew that, for now, he was safe.

“By the stars…” Legolas murmured, his voice trembling, hoarse with awe. His hand, though weak from the toll of battle, reached up toward you, his fingers trembling as they hovered near the glowing strands of your hair. It was as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was witnessing, as though the very sight of you—glowing with a power so pure and radiant—was beyond comprehension. “Your power… it is… unlike anything I have ever seen.” His voice, filled with awe and reverence, sent a ripple through you, a shiver of warmth and comfort. The magic you had woven continued to grow, pulsing in rhythm with the deep resonance of the song you sang. Each note seemed to deepen the connection between you, the golden light radiating more intensely, not just healing his body, but seeming to bind itself to his very essence. It wrapped around him like a cocoon, gentle but strong, a delicate shield of light.

The light around you both was warm and soft, enveloping you in a protective embrace, soothing the ragged breath he had taken in moments ago. As you continued to sing, your voice now carrying the weight of both healing and love, Legolas’s body relaxed completely. His tense muscles softened under the magic’s touch, and the bleeding wound that had once poured freely, now slowed, then stopped entirely, as if the magic had mended time itself. The gash—once a deep, threatening tear in his flesh—faded before your eyes, closing seamlessly, leaving behind only the faintest memory of what had once been. The skin, once torn and broken, now appeared smooth, whole, as if untouched by any weapon.

When the last note left your lips, you fell into a profound silence. The battle raged on around you, but in this moment, there was nothing but stillness between you and Legolas. Your body, drained from the exertion, trembled with the weight of the magic’s toll, but the exhaustion was tempered by a deep sense of relief and peace. The light around you flickered softly before fading, leaving only a soft glow, like the dying embers of a fire.

Legolas’s chest rose and fell steadily now, his breath no longer shallow or ragged with pain. His eyes opened slowly, his gaze finding yours, locking with a tenderness that seemed almost out of place in the midst of the destruction around you. There was no longer fear in his eyes—only gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken, yet clear. His gaze lingered on you, as though seeing you for the first time, truly seeing the depth of your power and the strength of your heart. “You saved me,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, as though the weight of his words alone could not carry the depth of his gratitude. His hand, still resting gently on the strands of your glowing hair, traced them with the reverence of someone who had seen the divine. His fingers brushed softly against your skin, as though afraid to touch you too roughly, yet unable to resist. “I… I do not know how to thank you.”

The warmth in his touch, the sincerity in his voice, stirred something deep within you. You smiled softly, your lips trembling with the aftermath of emotion, and shook your head gently. “You do not need to,” you whispered, your hand moving to cover his, grounding him in the moment. “You need only stay with me.” His gaze softened at your words, and in that instant, the weight of the battle seemed to lift from him. The tension in his shoulders, the burden of war that had weighed him down for so long, seemed to melt away. He leaned forward, his forehead pressing gently against yours. The warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his breath, grounded you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. In the midst of the chaos, it was just the two of you—two souls, bound not by the forces of war, but by the strength of a connection that had been forged in light.

“You have my heart, my life,” he murmured, his voice raw, thick with emotion, his breath warm against your skin. “You are my light in the darkness.” The words, spoken with such raw sincerity, brought tears to your eyes. It was as if, in this moment, everything had led to this—this bond between you, stronger than any wound, any battle, any enemy. For a fleeting moment, the noise of the war faded away, leaving only the two of you standing amidst the ruins of a battlefield, your hearts intertwined, your spirits unbroken. In that silence, you both knew that, no matter what happened next, you had already found something far more powerful than victory.

[filialdisciple]

Hi, Tin! I love your writing and I have a prompt for you, if you are interested) what if Tang family is too afraid of Tang Bo leaving permanently and eloping with Cheong Myeong? So they initiate marriage negotiations with Mount Hua. It can be angst (CM is socially isolated and insecure about his position) or romantic comedy (awkward situations and protective Cheong Mun), up to you). Thank you in advance!

It was a well-established fact that the Dark Saint of the Tang Family was one of their generation's best.

So it came as no surprise when an influx of marriage proposals flooded their family's estate—because rumors started flying around that the Dark Saint was in search of a partner.

The Dark Saint held a reputation for being cold and ruthless. To cultivators and martial artists, he was someone they feared making into an enemy due to his sheer battle prowess and poisonous abilities. To normal civilians, he was a genius who wielded the Tang Family's techniques with cool precision and intent; to them, he was just another mysterious cultivator that they would only ever know of through gossip and stories.

However, in recent years, something shifted. His reputation among common folk was slowly altered. It started off with a supposed battle between him and the Plum Blossom Sword Saint which turned into a sudden and unexpected friendship.

Whereas in the past the Dark Saint would only go around Sichuan and closeby villages, he was now found going around different major cities and unknown ones.

He was often in the company of Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Saint, who worked with him side-by-side to eradicate groups from the Demonic Cult and the occasional bandits and thieves.

For supposed Taoists, the two visited different establishments to drink alcohol and talk cheerily. It was during one of these moments that the first rumor began its spark.

"Ahhhh," The Plum Blossom Sword Saint groans in satisfaction. "That sure hits the spot!"

The Dark Saint chuckles as he tosses back his own drink. "If only I could enjoy everyday like this. Alcohol really is the best."

"What would your future wife think?" The Plum Blossom Sword Saint jokingly and dramatically shakes his head in disappointment. "To have a husband who loves alcohol more than his own wife...!"

The Dark Saint wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Trust me, I would make sure that my wife knows full-well just how much I love them."

The two of them share a silent, private conversation with just their eyes alone, that none of the other restaurant's customers could decipher, before they leave a generous tip and went on their way.

It snowballs from there.

All of a sudden gossip went around about the Dark Saint's interest in finding a wife. And so several people came to the same conclusion.

The reason why the Dark Saint is travelling around more than usual is because he's looking for a prospective wife.

Clearly, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was there to provide moral support. How truly admirable and strong their brotherhood must be!

On the other hand, the head of the Tang Family was fully aware of their Dark Saint's single-minded interest in Mount Hua's Chung Myung.

Seeing all the stacks of letters that ranged from proposing strategic alliances and general marriage offers brought the current head of the Tang Family to a very different conclusion.

Tang Bo was trying to slowly draw himself away from their family by leaving their estate. He might be on the hunt, jumping from village to village, trying to create a dowry befitting for the hand of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint and scouting out all the best locations to settle down in.

It really wouldn't be too surprising of an idea if one day a letter turns up from the man with an intent of permanently moving to Mount Hua or some backwater village.

The Tang Family head shakes the thought of losing one of their best and genius members to one of the Ten Great Sects. If he wanted to maintain their family's reputation, he'll need to strike the first move.

And so he begins to pen a decisive letter to the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.

%%%

Chung Mun's hands tremble as reads the letter sent to him by the Tang Family.

'Who did they think they were?' He would have bit out if he had any less self-restraint. The paper crumples in his grip and he receives a questioning glance from Chung Myung who was sprawled eating mooncakes on the opposite side of his desk.

"What's got you so worked up?" The subject of the letter askswithout a care.

Chung Mun takes a deep breath. "The Tang Family wishes for you to transfer into their estate."

He refuses to say out loud the marriage proposal that came along with this request. His Chung Myung was too young! The man might be a sixty years old, but that round face, cheeks carelessly bulging with mooncakes with crumbs littered on his chin, screamed too young for marriage!

"Oh." Chung Myung nods in understanding.

Chung Mun is glad that Chung Myung agrees that this was nonsensical. To think, they thought that Chung Myung would even leave Mount Hua for—

"After the war is over, Tang Bo and I were planning to be roommates and travel the world a bit."

—?????

"Roommates?" Chung Mun's voices comes out slightly strangled.

"Yup. It's going to be great."

"No."

"'No'?"

Chung Mun tries to run through his previous conversations with Tang Bo. He knew that the man was capable of being underhanded, but he was also well-aware that Tang Bo respected him enough to not blind-side him with something like this. Especially since it concerned Chung Myung.

...

...Oh no.

"Fuck." Chung Mun says, full of feeling as he recalls Tang Bo off-handedly asking permission to live together with Chung Myung in the future.

"...Sect Leader?"

Chung Mun had thought that was a joke! He thought Tang Bo wasn't being serious! They were talking with alcohol in their systems!

The alarmed look that crosses Chung Myung's face informed Chung Mun that the way he felt his blood drain from his face was a visible, physical reaction.

"He asked for your hand in marriage." Chung Mun says faintly. "I said yes."

Chung Myung blinked at him. "Yeah? He told me?"

Okay. Tang Bo, to his credit, hasn't been leaving Chung Myung in the dark at least.

If Chung Myung knows and isn't reacting violently that means that he isn't completely against this. Even if Chung Mun was, he had to reorganize his priorties.

And his number one would be to make sure Chung Myung was happy.

((And to make sure that the Tang Family doesn't think they can step on Chung Mun and pull his little brother away.))

"I'll have to recheck the sect's budget and my own savings to make sure we have enough for the wedding preparations..." Chung Mun mutters as he begins drafting a response to the Tang Family with what he thought were better marriage agreement conditions.

But then, a flash of dread causes Chung Mun to pause writing and leave a dark ink blot on the paper. He suspected, but he really wishes that he was wrong—!

"Huh?" Chung Myung gives Chung Mun a confused look. "We already got married though?"

[lisalamona]

𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 - III

Chapter III: Full Speed Ahead

. Summary: Despite your brother's insistence, you stubbornly decided to join him and his men in the war. Now, are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions? . Pairing: Various x Fem! Reader (platonic) . Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, trauma, and other sensitive content. . Notes: I'm starting to upload this story here on tumblr, I am really sorry for clogging the tags.

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Masterlist

The boat swayed gently beneath your feet, the murmur of activity around you blending into the steady rhythm of waves lapping against the ship. Shouted orders, ropes creaking as they strained against the mast, and the sea breeze carried the faint tang of salt and ash. Yet, amidst the chaos of men and motion, your gaze remained fixed on the receding silhouette of Troy.

The city that once stood tall and unbroken was now a distant smudge against the horizon, its once-proud walls crumbled into memory. Smoke still curled into the sky. You could almost hear the echoes of the past—the clash of swords, the cries of the wounded, the relentless roar of battle.

And the child.

Your stomach twisted as you thought of the boy, so small, so innocent, held aloft above the battlefield. The moment replayed in your mind, over and over, like a cruel refrain. His wide eyes, the faint gurgle of breath, the way the world seemed to hold its breath as Odysseus... You didn't want to think about it, sure you would've done the same but still... You swallowed hard, forcing the thought away, but the weight of it lingered, heavy and unshakable.

The war, the men around you called it glorious. A cause worthy of songs and legends. But standing here now, watching the ruins of Troy grow smaller and smaller, you could only feel the bitter aftertaste of victory. Was this what glory looked like? The shattered bodies, the grieving mothers, the wails of orphans left behind? Was this the price you were willing to pay?

You gripped the railing tightly, the rough wood biting into your palms. It wasn't just the child. It wasn't just the war. It was everything—the years of bloodshed, the sacrifices demanded, the lives unraveled. You had fought so hard, for so long, to prove yourself. To stand beside Odysseus as an equal. And now, you weren't sure if you had gained anything other than guilt.

Behind you, the voices of the crew carried on, oblivious to your turmoil. You envied them, in a way. For them, this was a return to life—a chance to go home, to rebuild. For you, the path ahead felt uncertain.

A sudden gust of wind ruffled your hair, carrying with it the scent of the open sea. You closed your eyes, letting the coolness wash over your face. When you opened them again, Troy was little more than a speck on the horizon, a distant dream—or perhaps a nightmare.

"Hey." You jumped slightly as a hand landed gently on your shoulder. Turning, you saw Eurylochus, his face shadowed with concern as he took in your startled reaction. "Are you alright?" he asked, his tone softer than usual.

"Uh, yes. Just... a bit jumpy," you said, forcing a weak smile in an attempt to reassure him.

"Well, that's what war does to people," he replied, trying to inject some lightness into his voice. You chuckled—soft, awkward, and strained—but the moment your laugh died, his sharp eyes cut through your pretense.

"Look," he started, his voice dropping into something more earnest. "I know how hard these past ten years have been for all of us. We've lost comrades, friends... we've seen men fall to swords, to starvation, to the wrath of the gods. We've watched people we love slip through our fingers." He paused, searching for the right words before continuing, "But it wasn't all in vain. We survived. You survived. Every step forward was for something greater."

His words hung in the air as he nudged you lightly. "You did great, you know. Where's the spunk you've shown all these years gone, eh?"

You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping. "It's hard to hold onto that 'spunk' after everything we've been through."

"I'm no Polites," he said with a crooked grin, trying to lighten the mood. "But look at the bright side: we're still breathing. And soon, we'll be on our way home. Peaceful days, good wine, home. Doesn't sound too bad, does it?"

You couldn't help but smile at his attempt at optimism. The gods knew positivity wasn't his strong suit, but he was trying, and somehow, that made it better. Though the ache in your chest didn't ease entirely, his words chipped away at the heaviness.

"Not bad at all," you admitted.

For the first time in a long time, a small sliver of hope pierced through the despair.

Your eyes met, and a soft smile passed between you. His hand moved gently, stroking your arm with a touch both soothing and grounding, as if silently assuring you that you weren't alone in this.

The tender moment was broken by a voice calling for Eurylochus in the distance. He gave your arm one final, reassuring squeeze, his warmth lingering for a heartbeat longer, before rising to see what was required of him.

You closed your eyes once again, letting the fresh, salty sea air brush against your skin and tousle your hair. The sound of the waves lapping against the hull offered a fleeting sense of calm, though it couldn't quite drown out the storm raging in your mind.

"Feeling seasick?" Polites' voice broke through your thoughts, warm and steady like the breeze around you.

You opened your eyes to find him standing beside you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It wasn't teasing—more like an unspoken offering of comfort.

"Not exactly," you murmured, looking down at the endless expanse of water.

He didn't push, just leaned on the railing next to you and gazed out at the horizon. "You know, no matter how many times we've been out here, the sea never gets old. It's... endless, isn't it? Like it's holding onto secrets we'll never know."

You nodded, letting his words fill the quiet.

"Think about it," he continued, his tone deliberately light. "When we get home—really home—what's the first thing you'll do? Me? I'm heading straight for a feast. A real one. Wine flowing, music playing, none of this dried rations nonsense."

Despite yourself, a small smile crept onto your lips. "I'm guessing you'll be first in line for seconds."

"Thirds, if I'm lucky." He grinned, his easy demeanor chipping away at the heavy weight pressing on your chest.

Polites turned to face you more fully, his voice softening. "We'll make it, you know. Past all of this." He gestured vaguely to the sea, but you knew he meant more than the journey itself. "We always do."

You wanted to believe him, even if the shadows of what had just happened lingered like ghosts in the back of your mind. For now, you let his words carry you, like a current guiding you closer to shore.

──────🗡️──────

As Odysseus stood alongside Eurylochus, their gazes drifted toward you and Polites, who stood a little apart from the group. The air was heavy with the sounds of the bustling of men and the murmur of voices. Despite the bustle, Odysseus couldn't shake his concern.

"She's holding up better than I expected," Eurylochus said, his tone measured. "She always does, doesn't she? Stronger than most men I know."

Odysseus let out a low hum of agreement, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his unease. "I should have never allowed her to come," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His fist tightened, nails digging into his palm. "What was I thinking, dragging her into this?"

Eurylochus glanced at him, his expression softening. "You didn't drag her into anything. She made her choice." He paused, then added with a small sigh, "But if it were up to me, I wouldn't have let her come either."

Their conversation fell quiet for a moment, both men watching as Polites said something that made you laugh—a bright, unexpected sound in the gloom of their circumstances. For a brief moment, your shoulders relaxed, and the lines of worry etched into your face softened.

Odysseus's lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, but the worry in his eyes remained. "She's strong," Eurylochus repeated, his voice firm now. "She'll get through this, just like she always does."

Odysseus nodded, though the knot in his chest didn't fully ease. "I hope you're right," he said quietly, as he turned back to his work.

"Captain." Odysseus turned his attention back to Eurylochus, whose face was tight with concern. "We're running out of supplies to eat," he said, his voice low but steady. Straightening his posture as if slipping back into his role, Eurylochus gestured vaguely toward the men around them. "We don't have much left, but we still have 600 mouths to feed. What do you suggest we do?"

Odysseus barely hesitated. The answer came to him like a whisper carried on the wind. "Watch the skies," he said, his tone resolute. "Follow the birds. They'll lead us to land. There, we'll hunt and restock."

With a decisive nod, he gestured for Eurylochus to alert the others, his eyes sharp with determination. "Let them know—hope is on the horizon."

"Captain!" A cheery voice called out to Odysseus.

"Polites!" Odysseus returned the excitement, striding toward the source of the voice where you and Polites stood.

"Look!" Polites gestured eagerly toward the horizon. An island loomed in the distance, still far but close enough for a faint glow to be visible against the growing shadows of dusk. The golden light flickered softly, almost invitingly. "There's an island up ahead. I can see a faint glow—it might be a fire. Maybe there are people there, and maybe they'll share some food."

You squinted at the distant glow, a strange unease stirring in your chest. "Something feels wrong," you said quietly. "I see fire... but no smoke."

Eurylochus, not far from Odysseus, scoffed and crossed his arms. "Then we don't take any chances. We strike first."

Polites whipped around to face him, his expression caught somewhere between outrage and disbelief. Before he could retort, you placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Let's not be hasty," Polites muttered.

"We don't have time to waste," Eurylochus pressed, his voice hardening. "I say we raid the place and—"

"No."

The single word from Odysseus cut through the growing tension like a blade, leaving no room for argument. His expression turned serious, the gleam of caution in his eyes silencing the debate.

"Polites, [Name], gear up. We'll go ahead." Odysseus's voice was steady, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. He knew it was risky bringing you two along, but a small part of him clung to the hope that a moment alone—just the three of you—might cheer you up. Or, at the very least, help you relax. He just prayed that small part of him wasn't wrong.

"We should try to find a way no one ends up dead," he added, though the weight of his tone made it clear he wasn't entirely convinced it was possible.

Polites shot Eurylochus a small, mocking grin. It was the kind of jab shared between friends, harmless. Eurylochus didn't respond in kind, his wariness about Odysseus's plan clearly written across his face.

"We don't know what's ahead," he muttered.

Odysseus cut him off with the confident bravado that always seemed to rally the crew. "Give me until sunrise. If we're not back by then, send in six hundred men and burn this place to the ground. Now, full speed ahead!"

As he barked orders to the rest of the crew, his voice carried that infectious determination. "We're up, we're off, and away we go!"

Eurylochus lingered behind, his hand rubbing his eyes as if to ward off a vision of the inevitable. "It's just a matter of time before we all end up dead."

"Don't worry, big boy," you teased, patting his back with exaggerated mockery. "You'll get your turn to play next time."

With that, you turned on your heel, Polites falling into step beside you as you both prepared for the journey ahead. The weight of what was to come loomed large, but for now, all you could do was press forward.

[ihavedonenothingright]

An Update to the Shendex

Hello all!

A little while ago, I made a post asking people to send me a list of main characters or love interests in danmei with the surname "Shen" in order to create a comprehensive list. That received a bit more traction than I thought it would, but not much in the way of new Shens. I am happy to announce, however, that I have googled the hell out of this and found an additional 20+ Official, Honorary, and Supporting Character Shens to add to the prospective Shendex. Here is the list (at present).

The Current Shendex

Seven Seas Danmei

Shen Shiliu/Gu Yun (Stars of Chaos)

Shen Qiao (Thousand Autumns)

Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan (The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System)

Shen Wei (Guardian)

Shen Zechuan (Ballad of Sword and Wine)

Novel Updates

Shen Ci (Vase Cannon Fodder Is Pampered by the Group Again)

Shen Gurong (Transmigrated Into The High-Risk Profession Life As A Master)

Shen Jin (After Being Moved to Tears by the Sworn Enemy’s Pheromones)

Shen Jin (Agreement Mark)

Shen Jue (A Hundred Ways To Kill A Heartthrob)

Shen Junci (Insights of the Medical Examiner)

Shen JunXi (Transmigrated into the Pastoral Scenery)

Shen Ke (Dandy Escapes From Marriage)

Shen Kong (The Professional Three Views Rectifier [Book Transmigration])

Shen Li (After the Accident, My Boyfriend Got Straight)

Shen Lin (Welcome to the Game Room of Supremacy Luck)

Shen Mofeng (No Money)

Shen Qi (Applaud for Happiness)

Shen Qianling (Everywhere in Jianghu is Wonderful/The Jianghu is Full of Local Tyrants)

Shen Qingcheng (Please Stop Pretending To Be a Cute Newcomer!)

Shen Ruo (Turned out I am a Scheming Little Cannon Fodder)

Shen Tanqi (The Male Lead Ran Away With My Ball)

Shen Tingzhou (I’m a Family Doctor in a Domineering Boss Novel)

Shen Ye (Accidentally Marked The Archenemy)

Shen Yu (Silent Concubine)

Shen Yunxing (Pregnant With The Pup Of A Wealthy Old Man)

Shen Zhixian (It's Not Easy Being a Master)

Honorary Shens

Fu Shen (Golden Terrace)

Lu Tian Shen (Dramatic Fake Young Master Holds the Group’s Favorite Script)

Luoshen (Let Me Go, I’m Not Pregnant)

Tang Shen (The Kingdom That Never Sleeps)

Xu Shen (Transmigrating to 1983)

Supporting Character Shens

Shen Jiu (The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System)

Shen Xingtang (Genius Mechanic)

Shen Yi (Stars of Chaos)

Shen Yuanting (Transmigrated as a Cannon Fodder Who Married into a Wealthy Family)

Now Onto Business...

Now that I have enough Shens to justify the existence of the Shendex, the question becomes how to format it. I'm not the best with this sort of thing, so anyone who wants to help is completely welcome (just DM me). As for how it should look... let's put it to a vote.

My aim is for every entry to include the characters used for each entry's name, a picture if possible, and a quick description of their story as well as a link to it. This could take a while, so I think I'll update it in bits and pieces. As always, you are welcome to send in a Shen if you please---just make sure to stick to danmei because otherwise this thing is going to get looooooong.

See you all next update!

[gojosatoruwifey]

ㅡdreaming torrents

✑ the what ifs random snippets postwar rotmhs that no one asked for (◕∇◕✿)

✿ warning/s: fluff , g/n! reader , swearing, tell me if i missed something!

✿ character/s: pbss! chung myung , junior! reader (feat. small baek cheon)

part of the senior reader agenda (tba)

thumb ring

sleepiness seems to overlap either day or night. the issue used to not bother him but now that being groggy is catching up to his body, chung myung finds it hard to stifle a yawn. bed hair of ink black falls to his shoulders, white robes thrown in haphazardly as if he’s not bothered by the incoming scolding from his tidied junior later in the dining hall he will be meeting for breakfast, drowse clung to his eyes, hand busy itself to close the door of the room.

“sahyung,” a voice called out from the side.

chung myung glanced to see a cultivator disciple in black, a carefully embroidered tassel hanging on their sword as it sways from side to side with each step they made, a thin sheet of sweat cling to their forehead making people who see them want to applaud at the sight of an outstanding figure doing work once the sun is up, there is a tender smile on their face as their hand waved at him from afar. “your hair isn’t tied up. want me to do it for you?”

like sent into a trance, chung myung wordlessly gives to your awaiting hands his green ribbon, it was brief but he catches a band around your thumb. “were you wielding a bow? you have a thumb ring.”

“i went out hunting,” you stood up behind his sitting figure as your fingers card through his fluffy hair. on the side of the doorway of chung myung’s room, there’s a wooden side table with two chairs you can pull under. it’s a highly convenient furniture that chung myung bought on a whim. who said impulse buying is always a bad thing? they clearly haven’t seen the side table. the craftsman was so happy that his ‘unusual’ invention was bought and seeing that it was the highly regarded plum blossom sword saint, his spirit reached the heavens.

chung myung perks up, “does my dear junior willing to give me their catch?”

he may have his back facing you but you well know that he was wearing a teasing expression, a grin on his lips as he closes his eyes while you tighten up the ribbon. “sure. i wonder if senior can eat all of them up, though. as they say 'time is of the essence'. tang bo is waiting. hurry up, or face the consequences of being beaten."

“damn, that guy is already here?”

you patted his shoulders, laughing. you step to the side as chung myung stands up to his full height. you leave first but not when a callous warm hand lifts your hand with the thumb ring closer for chung myung to look at. his eyes glimmer with an unknown light you can’t name. so you just let him hold it like that — his own thumb stroke it a few times before he let it go — matching your pace as the both of you walk to the stoned pavements, 

later that day, before you turn around to go back to your room, chung myung tosses a shiny material to you which you catch with a heart in your throat. who wouldn’t be surprised, anyway? you were about to mind your business and sleep after a whole day of labour then your sahyung passed something to you without any words. opening your fist, a beautiful jade thumb ring sits on your palm as your wide eyes flicker to chung myung’s self-satisfied figure.

a huge batch of char siu is due.

fuzhou fish ball

you can’t believe the day will come that a certain senior who hasn't taken a single disciple in that long life of his finally arrives. it’s strange to see a small figure beside his imposing height, much more strange that it was a kid once they got nearer and a clear view of a refine-looking boy, with straight hair and a pair of big, strong eyes that remind you of a stone with a similar colour on them, they bring you a sense of refreshing waft of salt in the air accompanied by a low crashing of waves.

there was one question you badly want to voice out.

annoyed by your staring, chung myung huffed. “What?”

“...you didn’t kidnap this child for a ransom, did you?”

chung myung looks scandalized, “what the fuck are you sayi–”

“sahyung! the kid can hear you!”

“so what? he will soon learn that.”

you cleared your throat and knelt to level your gaze at the kid. the last thing you want is to frighten him. with the bickering that just happened right now, you give him a timid smile and the boy’s shoulder drops a little as he hides behind chung myung’s legs. it’s a small change, nevertheless, still change and you’re happy to see that his guard is down and not up. “hello.”

he shyly returned a small ‘hello’. if you’re not a cultivator trained to have good hearing, you’ll not catch it, his greeting might get lost in the wind.

“don’t hesitate to tell me if this bad guy is threatening you, okay?” a giggle slips out from the kid.

“yah!”

“you should eat something.” you ignored the glare in your way as you offered a cheery smile to the kid whose name you haven’t known yet. “this one is called y/n, third grade disciple of mount hua. can i have the pleasure to know the young one before me?”

the kid blinked at the figure in front of him. an air of dignified pillar surrounding you making you appear trusty. having a good intuition, he opened his mouth to say his name but he was beaten to it by the older man.

“the kid wants to change his name.” chung myung said.

“oh,” a click of understanding registered on your face as you nodded and stood up. “after eating, do you want to meet the sect leader? he will bless you with a given name if that’s what you want. feel free to say to this elder here, hm?”

as expected, once the three of you stepped foot inside the courtyard, everyone bombarded questions as they gathered you to the center. the sect has always maintained a family ambience yet it feels the bond is deeper now that the war is over and a child especially the one that is picked up by the plum blossom sword saint is seen as a blessing. the excitement never dies down even when the sun is starting to set as the women with their daughters prepare an impromptu banquet. long line of tables decorated with vibrant red and gold, a group of baek disciples tying the plum blossom flags in the ceilings, another group carrying boxes of drinks and the others keeping the places tidy.

an auspicious occasion is what the old people say.

“just where did they get the money to get those expensive things?”

“sahyung, you didn’t know? the government may keep away from the events of the martial sects but the emperor owes the mount hua sect big time.” you explained. “i handled that matter a few weeks after the war ended as per the sect leader’s permission. the bank notes and everything else is in my care, the treasure chests are with the financial hall. you see those wines?” chung myung glanced at the spot you are focused on where the two older baek disciples are carrying a box with care, then followed by another set of disciples. “gift from the emperor. the ones that reached early were only one-third. the second deal of the agreement…do you remember those men fixed the damages to our sect? that’s the second deal and the last, ownership rights documents of land properties. it wasn’t long ago that these hidden precious gifts were placed underground.”

“hundred years ago is not long ago!”

chung myung side-eyed your relaxed figure, completely baffled at the way you casually bring you’re a walking dungeon. “you hoarder…are you sure you’re not a descendant of dragons? you seem to stick your nose in places with mountains of rewards.”

it’s your turn to glare at him. “i don’t want to hear that from you, of all people. now, where is that cute fuzhou fish ball?”

“what???”

“your first disciple.” you clarified. “he is like a fuzhou fish ball.”

“he is with the sect leader and why are you calling him fuzhou fish ball? are you hungry? you can go eat first, you poor thing.”

awaiting for the last dance

whimsical as the shower rain, you spent a sleepless night opting for a productive path — train. the music of sword cutting the air with the intent of precise point, feet steady to the ground yet agile as a feline, it’s a footwork to allow yourself an escape in a bind, unsettled water that was agitated and quelled. the blade flared cold light, striking a purpose, a sword dance following an illusionary image of an empty plane as the void of life suddenly comes alive with the arrival of plum blossoms.

nights at mount hua are cold and unforgiving. they take advantage of the light clothes worn, crackled frost nipping on the skin turning to a hungry bite, the scenery of plum blossom trees deep red under the chilly moonlight and mocking the pitiful soul to catch a glimpse of it as the first fall of snow buried them. your graceful form in the wintry night comes to mind. chung myung leaned his back on one of the trees as he watched quietly and listened to the light tappings of your boots, sounds heavy landing a blow, wind urging the leaves to dance and chung myung tip of his head to the sight as the vicious swift blade tore the trunk.

it’s hard to discern the difference between the petals drifting slowly in the air from the plum blossom tree sprouting in the ground and the petals unfolded by two elders of the sect. the musings of the night giggled, the series of fists either blocked single-handedly or avoided in a way his body is angled to the side. second slower, you will come to scathe the vital points of this hailed saint. chung myung leapt back, putting distance as you come emerge in the shadows, swinging your leg to kick the side of his face and like your other attempts, it also failed. chung myung seized the opening — suddenly dropping as he pivoted a leg to lose your footing. unprepared, you immediately tumbled, closing your eyes to embrace the impact that never happened, a deep chuckle reverberated above.

chung myung had his arm wrapped around your torso, carrying you like you weighed nothing as he had you hoisted, the feeling of floating strange as he walked back to the newly established dormitories. he passed by the same tree that your sword had pierced in its spot, he applied a spell as it hovered in the back. “that’s enough training for the night, dear junior. i’ll never hear the end of sect leader sahyung’s nagging to find out you sneak out.”

“looks who is calling the kettle black. put me down.”

“no.” still childish at his age, he stuck out his tongue to make fun of your worm-wriggling figure.

[sakurablossoms-world]

True Parentage Theory:

(Art belongs to @quesocheeso)

As the title suggests, I propose the idea that Mei is not Ao Lie’s very distant descendant and is in fact his daughter. I know that reasonably speaking that idea sounds ridiculous, but I have reason enough to believe that this is in fact a very likely possibility.

Let’s begin:

-Mei’s family and powers:

Let’s start with the Long family, or more specifically their family name. I find it fairly unusual that they refer to themselves as Ao Lie’s descendants, yet they don’t use the Ao family name. Granted the name could’ve been picked up from a husband of a female descendant, however a common enough practice in China is to have husbands take on the family name of their wife if she is of significantly higher status than him, so where could the name have come from?

Simply put the Long’s are not descended from Ao Lie, but rather his older sister.

It’s safe to assume that after Ao Lie accidentally destroyed his father’s palace, the western Ao family lost a significant amount of their status, so when Ao Lie’s sister married, she would’ve taken on the family name of her husband.

(I understand this bit sounds like a bit of a stretch, but just bare with me)

Another thing to note about the Long family is that whenever Mei’s heritage is brought up by others (particularly when referring to how she could survive the Samadhi Fire) it’s stated that she has dragon ancestry, but never that she is a dragon. This to me implies that the dragon blood in the Long family has become so diluted that they are for all intents and purposes human.

This would also explain why the Ao family sword hasn’t been wielded by anyone in centuries (based on the fact that it had been placed on display like the many other artifacts in the Long estate). As it was stated that only a true member of the family could wield the sword, which was most likely referring to the Ao line itself. Not to mention that one would at the very least need dragon chi in order to wield and manipulate a magical weapon such as this.

Diving further into the possession of dragon chi Mei has not only been the only member of the Long family shown using magic, she has also been shown to be on roughly the same level of power as Ao Guan, a pure blooded dragon. Even if we are to assume that the Long family still possesses natural magic abilities, Mei should not be anywhere close to Ao Guan’s level prior to obtaining the full Samadhi Fire.

Speaking of which:

-The Samadhi Fire Fragment:

For starters long dragons are not in any way aligned with fire magic (the closest thing to it is lightning), they are aligned with water and storms. So the explanation we’ve been given as to why Mei’s body could contain the Samadhi Fire makes no sense.

Further more how could the fragment contained in Mei have transferred from one generation to the next completely unnoticed. Even if dormant, the fragments needed powerful containers in order to keep them from destroying the world. And as mentioned earlier the Long family’s dragon blood has been diluted to the point of non existence, so there is no possible way a human could’ve safely contained the fire fragment, let alone the full Samadhi Fire.

Even Ao Lie himself could barely handle the force of the fragment and likely suffered a tremendous amount of pain as a result. After all Wukong would not have felt such intense guilt for this incident if not for the fact that Ao Lie had been suffering because of his mistake.

Speaking of our sweet little dragon:

- Ao Lie and the scroll of memories:

Before I go into the similarities held between Mei and Ao Lie, let me give you another theory that will help further explain things later down the line.

(Note I am not the first to come up with this theory, a YouTuber by the name RV Sketch was the first to propose this idea)

I firmly believe that Ao Lie is still alive and is simply trapped in the scroll of memories. How am I sure of this? Well firstly Tang sated and I quote “Monkey King is the only original companion we know for sure is still alive”, now I know that many will take this to mean that it was in reference to Tang, Pigsy and Sandy themselves, however this wouldn’t make any sense as by the logic of reincarnation they’re no longer the pilgrims themselves and so logically those particular pilgrims couldn’t be considered still alive, so it could only be referring to Ao Lie.

Another thing to note is the behavior of the memories themselves, while they do interact with others, they behave more like actors following a script that are simply improvising for any changes. Ao Lie on the other hand does not behave like this at all, his interactions with Mei are too complex and emotion driven to be a script.

Even when Wukong is briefly remembering the pilgrims during the fight with the ink demon, Ao Lie once again behaves differently than the others, walking past Wukong and placing a hand on his shoulder with his face obscured, while the other pilgrims stand by Wukong’s side smiling.

Now I know some of you will ask why didn’t Ao Lie recognize that Mei wasn’t a memory if he really is the actual Ao Lie, well simply put he’s been in the scroll so long that he’s no longer able to tell the difference. After all Wukong who spent a few hours to a day in the scroll needed a moment to recognize that MK was real.

Many of you will ask who put Ao Lie in the scroll and the answer is obvious, Xiangliu the ninth king of Diyu. Why exactly, well we unfortunately don’t have enough information on the nine headed demon to make a decent guess, so I’ll have to end this part here for now.

And now onto the similarities between our two dragons:

Aside from their temperament, they are completely identical in personality.

In terms of morality and values, aside from their stance on action vs inaction, both are once again identical.

Both are often underestimated by others, and themselves.

Both have the same cat smile when being particularly goofy.

Both have similarly placed green streaks in their hair (and I know many of you will point out that Mei’s streaks are hair dye, but considering that the streaks didn’t disappear when Mei first obtained the Samadhi Fire while her makeup did, I have reason enough to believe that they’re natural).

Both have an affinity with lighter shades of green, compared to the other members of the Long family who have an affinity with darker shades of green.

Additionally something to note about Ao Lie is just how young he actually is, comparatively he appears to be as old or a bit older than Mei, so there’s very little chance that he was ever married prior to his sentence and the jttw, it’s also unlikely that he would’ve been married off post journey, as Ao Run would’ve still held contempt towards his son. Which adds further credence to the idea that the Long family are descendants of Ao Lie’s sister and not him.

-What happened:

Now that we’ve gotten all the details out of the way let me tell you how I believe these two are related.

Ao Lie had been suffering as a result of the Samadhi Fire Fragment for a long time and would’ve likely died soon enough if it were to remain inside him.

Eventually the Ao Family managed to perform a ritual to safely remove the fragment from Ao Lie’s body.

The ritual was a success and went exactly as planned with the exception of one detail. Rather than forming a ring like the previous Samadhi Fire ritual an egg appeared instead. This is because the fire had attached itself to Ao Lie’s chi and took some of it with it when it was removed. In turn creating Mei.

At some point Ao Lie was abducted and trapped in the scroll of memories. Years passed and the family was unable to find him, so he was presumed dead.

Due to the lack of her father’s presence Mei was unable to hatch for a very, very long time. Eventually hatching twenty plus years pre canon.

She would be taken in by Mr and Mrs Long to be raised as their daughter.

They would inform her that she is a descendant of Ao Lie (a half truth, as a child by definition is a descendant of their parents), as a way to allow her to form a connection with the parent that she’d never get to know.

And that’s everything feel free to tell me what you think, just please remain polite in the comment section 😊