#I got injured from them plenty

[rodolfoparras]

18+ MDNI 18+

Thinking about playfully wrestling with your boyfriend while he makes mindless comments about your strength “oh you’re so strong, don’t think I’d be able to escape even if I wanted,” he says in wonder, eyes practically shining as he squeezes your biceps, “you ought to be careful never know when I can break” he says jokingly while doing a half hearted attempt to try and escape your embrace.

Slowly but surely you start getting more and more rough with him: squeezing and pressing down onto spots, not enough to hurt but enough to make him uncomfortable. “You know what? You’re right. I don’t think you’d be able to get away if someone like me were to attack you.” The relaxed look on his face swiftly turns into one of concern and you can see the way he slowly attempts to back away from you.

But it’s to no avail, he’s trapped in your embrace, with you steadily inching closer to his face, a big sharp grin painted on your own face. “I mean what are you supposed to do? Can’t even push them away,” you say referring to his futile attempts at trying to push you away from him. “Guess you’d just have to stay and take whatever they’re willing to give you,” you continue, proving your point when you easily spread his legs wide and ground your cock up against his ass, all while he can’t do anything but helplessly watch as you twist and turn his body as if he were a ragdoll “Bet there’s plenty of things they would love to do to a pretty boy like you. Don’t you think?”

“Oh god- don’t -dont say that,” he gasps out, head falling into the crook of your neck as if he’s horrified. But you can feel his fully hard cock from where your hand is resting against his thighs , can hear the muffled whines and whimpers as he grinds himself up against you, can see it on him how he he’s torn between pushing you away and completely stopping this little game or pulling you closer to him to see how far you’ll take this.

What a sick little thing you got at your hands.

“How about this?” You say, hand yanking ahold of his hair to bring his ear closer to you “You try to run and we’ll see if I can catch you. Does that sound alright?”

This time you don’t get a verbal response. Instead you can see it on his face what he’s trying to say: and what happens if you catch me?

The silence is swiftly broken with a soft thud as you release your hold on him.”Run, quick,”

He doesn’t waste a second scrambling up the stairs, practically tripping over his feet as he turns corners. He looks and sounds absolute terrified and you can’t help but love that, cock growing harder as you follow him up.

With each step you take you can hear his rapid breaths getting louder and louder , can feel his own thudding steps as you walk down the narrow hallway, can practically smell him - not some cheap cologne nor any deodorant but rather a mix of sickly sweet vanilla and sugar- something that’s just so him - something you’d want to sink your teeth in and drain completely. You follow that very scent all the way to your shared bedroom.

And there he stands, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, or rather like a animal that’s bleeding out on the side of the road, with his cock still painfully hard and with a suspicious dark spot on his sweatpants.

“Oh sweetheart,” you coo, voice dripping with faux concern, while slowly walking up to him like he was an injured animal of some sort. “Why do you look so scared hmm? You know I won’t actually hurt you,” you continue, watching in amusement as he swiftly backs up til his back is flushed with the bedroom wall.

You’re quick to press yourself flush against his chest, once again trapping him in your embrace.“Come on. You wound me. I really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You know that,” You say eyes once again flicking up to the wet spot on his pants “Look, got yourself all worked up and for what?” You ask, as you cup the wet bulge over his pants.

“Stop - ah don’t” he cries out, sounding and looking absolutely horrified as he tries to push your hand away but once again it’s to no avail and he has to stand there as you freely grope him. However it doesn’t take much before he’s bucking up into your touch, head lolling back against the wall as whines and whimpers freely pour past his tongue “fuck- so good mph,”

“See sweetheart, I just want to take care of you, wouldn’t dream of hurting you,”you say with a soft smile as you continue to rub him through his pants. The man only furiously nods, begs and please of more more more, continuously rolling off of his tongue as he practically humps the palm of your hand.

“Unless you want me to, that is,” suddenly you’re flipping him around, hand rough as ever as you shove him up against the wall before slotting your leg between his thighs.

The poor thing squeaks in suprise, tears freely spilling from his eyes ,as incoherent words start pouring from his mouth.

“Come on now sweetheart,” you groan out , hand once again yanking at his hair and successfully pulling a hiss from him “you know that need you to use your words. Now tell em what you want yeah?”

Once again he’s fumbling over his words, too overwhelmed with emotions to form a coherent sentence. However you won’t take that for answer, hand once again yanking at his hair till he finally responds to you.

“Want- ah want you to touch me sir ah- please do anything touch me- hah fuck me - hurt me just anything please please-“

“Well who am I to say no when you ask so nicely?”

[elysixns]

Chrysos Heirs w/ clumsy reader !

Content: GN!Reader, fluff, mentions of light injuries + sprains, yandere behavior on Anaxa's part (?)

🌹 Note: Shout out to the mfs that get cuts and bruises just by standing still. Me too.

INTRO

The Sky Titan must absolutely despise you for you to trip over air as often as you do.. How you haven't gotten a broken bone is baffling, and yet here you are. For all of your clumsiness, you do manage to get out of almost any situation with only minor scrapes and bruises (most of the time). You're not allowed outside of Okhema for any reason, though, not even to help bring in refugees. The last time you were allowed outside the city, you sprained your ankle so badly that you were bedridden for about a month.. But do not fret!!! There are still plenty of ways to entertain (injure) yourself in the holy city, much to your partner's distress.

– Dear, if you keep falling over your own feet every 20 minutes, she's going to think you like when she catches you in her golden thread

Aglaea

– ^ (You do. She knows you do, so you can't deny it when she teases you for it, yes?)

– If you somehow sprain any of your limbs, she WILL pamper you for the entire time you're injured. This is probably one of the ONLY times she’ll baby you when you're hurt, so try to take advantage of it as much as you can

– One of the few who isn't overly concerned with your penchant for getting injured simply by existing

– Unless you are quite literally impaled by a spear, Aglaea assumes that you can handle yourself and she won't fuss over you too much

– She does get a bit antsy if you end up getting an open wound, though

– You're much too precious to bleed, Dear. What happened? Does she need to kill someone to avenge you?

– ^ She says she's only joking if you get worried/upset. (She is not joking)

– Aglaea may tease you often about your clumsiness, but that's only because she thinks it's endearing

Phainon

– “Who did this? Are you okay? What happened? Who do I need to fight?–”

– He'd try to fight the air if you asked him to. Phai will do anything to defend your honor!! Anything.

– He worries about how often you fall over and drop things– Anytime you're carrying a heavy object, he about has a heart attack before quickly taking it away from you

– “Your hero’s got it covered. Just tell me where I need to put this!”

– Whenever you get a sprain, he'll insist on carrying you everywhere that you want to go for as long as you're healing up

– Doesn't matter if you're bigger than him or not. Phai can lift you with ease and is eager to show off how dependable he can be!!!

– He genuinely spoils you so much when you're hurt. It is as sweet as it is silly

– Please remind him that it's just a sprain or else he'll keep treating you like you're dying 😭

– After you're healed up, he usually spends at least the next few days kissing any and all scars/bruises left behind from your injuries

– It's almost like he's apologizing for not being there to prevent them in the first place 🩵

– ^ (In a way, he is. Even if he has nothing to apologize for, Phai will always feel guilty for not protecting you from yourself)

Castorice

– Ohh you cause her so much stress, she thinks she might have a heart attack one of these days

– Cas genuinely doesn't know what to do!!! She can't just tell you to sit still and do nothing, she's tried that!

– ^ (Somehow, you ended up falling off of your chaise lounge and spraining your elbow..)

– Her only other solution is to spend as much time with you as possible, making sure you don't fall down a flight of stairs or get stomped on by a Dromas D:

– You've got an overprotective angel of death hovering around you nearly 24/7.. It's almost comical, but also a bit unsettling!

– If there's one thing she hates the most, though, it's that she can't patch you up on her own

– Seeing you injured tugs at her heartstrings so much, but all she can do is put a first aid kit in front of you or go find someone else to help you

– You also hate not being able to touch her, but you always reassure Cas that her just being beside you is more than enough

– It may take her a while until she's able to believe you (if ever she does), but she likes hearing it nonetheless because she knows you're being sincere when you say it <3

Mydeimos

– (Affectionately) calls you an idiot whenever you fall or drop things in front of him

– He doesn't usually help you when you stumble because he knows you'll be fine on your own, and he doesn't want to treat you like a child

– That being said… If you've fallen one too many times that day, Mydei will simply pick you up bridal style (all the while grumbling complaints) so that he can carry you around wherever you need/want to go

– He says it's because you're slowing him down, but in reality, it's because he caught a glimpse of the scars and bruises on your legs from previous accidents

– Mydei will never admit this to anyone, especially not to you, but seeing bruises on your skin hurts him more than any physical blow ever could

– He is once again reminded of how fragile the average person is. he is reminded of how fragile you are in particular

– ^ (Just another reason to break this damned curse. What's the point of being indestructible if you're not allowed to share in this “blessing” with him?)

– Mydei can't keep you safe from everything, least of all from your own gracelessness, but he can be there to patch you up and (reluctantly) wait on you hand and foot until you feel better

Anaxagoras

– Oh, you must be studied; he just can't believe you're naturally this clumsy. Are you sure you haven't been cursed?

– Anaxa finds your inelegance as adorable as he does irritating; it's quite a confusing mix of emotions for him

– You are very precious, truly! But if you fall on the way down the steps of your own home one more time, Anaxa will have to resort to drastic measures to keep you from harm

– ^ (“Drastic measures” being forbidding you from using any stairs by yourself, and keeping you by his side for the rest of your life)

– Overkill? Not at all. Maybe. But he loves you, so he'll never admit that he's being overprotective

– You trust him, don't you? So you'll let him do what's best for you without any complaints, right?

– You're simply too much of an airhead to keep yourself safe and uninjured… Those bruises and scars on your legs are proof of that, wouldn't you agree?

– Anaxa knows what's best, of course he does. If you can't trust in yourself, then just trust in him

– He won't outright force you to go along with what he wants, but he will try to “subtly” encourage you to stay indoors. Or even better, move in with him!! Just so that he can take care of you more efficiently, of course :)

Cipher

– You are very cute. Extremely cute, really.. But if she keeps having to run to your rescue (for free!), she will get a perpetual migraine

– It also ruins her image of being independent and selfish when she’s clearly always close enough to hear you stumble or drop something

– Cipher can not be tied down! She is untamed!!! She waits for NO ONE! … Unless it's you, and you're injured. Then she’ll wait for a minute or two

– She does steal things from you as well, but she always says she's only taking them away because they pose a danger to you

– “Oh? Your brush? The handle was real high-quality wood, uh-huh… It was way too heavy for the likes of you, though, so I decided to take it off your hands and sell it! Ah, but don't worry; I'll find an even better one for you, okay?”

– Cipher worries a lot about leaving you alone for too long without supervision (you didn't hear that from me, though)

– You're so unsteady on your feet that she doubts you could survive a day without her

– She may or may not pay Aglaea to check in on you from time to time

– Such a shame you'll never have proof of this :3 can't tease her about it if it's not definitively true!

[callsigns-haze]

-ˋˏ The week it all went south ˎˊ-

Part 2

Part 1 here

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, mentions of injured child, drinking.

Word count: 27k

The cabin was cozy, nestled in the heart of the mountains, surrounded by towering pines and a blanket of soft snow that had recently fallen. The scent of wood and fresh air filled the space as the door swung open, and the sounds of excited footsteps echoed in the large entryway.

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand stepped inside first, each of them carrying bags and supplies for the week ahead. Behind them came Nyx, Kaia perched on his back as he carried her effortlessly, while Cassian’s three boys, Torran, Emrus, and Calen, rushed in, their laughter and energy filling the cabin.

“Okay, okay, settle down,” Cassian said, his voice carrying a playful authority as he followed them inside. His eyes scanned the room, making sure nothing was out of place for the kids. “Nyx, put Kaia down—let her run around. Emrus, don’t touch that,” he added, reaching out to grab Emrus’s hand as he tried to explore one of the stone fireplaces.

Azriel was right behind them, his sharp eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. His shadows moved around him like a second skin, guiding him to the far corner where he noticed a small table with some leftover supplies from the previous tenants. He set Kaia down on the floor, watching her immediately start fluttering her wings in excitement.

“Go ahead, Kaia. You can explore,” Azriel said softly, his voice filled with warmth as he crouched down next to her. Kaia, always quick to absorb everything around her, toddled off eagerly, her little wings fluttering behind her.

Rhysand and Nyx were the last to step through the door. Nyx had an amused look on his face, though there was a touch of apprehension behind his eyes as he let Kaia go to explore. His gaze met Rhysand’s for a moment, and a silent understanding passed between them. Rhysand gave a small smile before reaching down to ruffle Nyx’s hair affectionately.

“Looks like we’re all here,” Rhysand said, giving the room a sweep with his violet gaze. “It’s a good thing we got here early—plenty of time to get settled in before the chaos begins.”

Nyx chuckled, rolling his eyes as he turned to follow Kaia, who had already found a spot by the window to observe the falling snow. “This week’s going to be a mess,” he muttered, but there was a smile in his voice as he watched his little cousin.

Cassian glanced over at the group of kids, who were already finding ways to entertain themselves in the cabin. His sons were exploring the open space, trying to figure out the best spots to play. “Alright, boys,” Cassian called out. “This place might be ours for the week, but let’s remember there are rules. And that means no breaking anything.”

Emrus grinned at his father. “You can’t stop us, Dad!”

“Watch me,” Cassian teased, giving him a playful shove.

Azriel watched them interact with an affectionate smile, his shadows swirling around him in a comforting embrace. There was a comfort here, even in the midst of the chaos. For the first time in a long time, he felt at ease, his family together and safe, away from the pressures and expectations of the Night Court.

“Alright, let’s unpack and get settled,” Azriel said to the others, standing tall again. “We’ve got a week to enjoy this place. Let’s make it count.”

Kaia, having moved over to a chair in the corner, suddenly turned around and let out an excited squeal. “Dada! Dada!” she called, her voice filled with joy. “I see snow!”

Azriel smiled warmly, his heart swelling at the sound of her happiness. He moved over to her, kneeling down beside her to look out the window. “I see it too, sweetheart. We’ll go play in it later.”

Azriel stood up from the window, his eyes scanning the room as he noticed Kaia tugging at the hem of his tunic, looking up at him with her bright, eager eyes. A soft smile curved his lips as he bent down to her level, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Ready to see your room, Kaia?” he asked, his voice gentle but filled with affection.

She nodded enthusiastically, her little wings fluttering behind her as she grinned up at him. “I wanna sleep with you, Dada!” she exclaimed in her sweet, toddler speech, her words still a little jumbled but full of intent.

Azriel’s heart softened at the sound of her words, and he held out his hand for her to take. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go see where we’ll be sleeping for the week.”

Kaia’s tiny hand gripped his fingers as he led her through the cabin, past the large living area and toward the hallway. The wood floors creaked softly underfoot as they walked, the warmth of the fire crackling in the background. Azriel could hear the sounds of the kids still exploring the other rooms, but his focus was entirely on Kaia.

As they reached the door to the room they’d be staying in, Azriel pushed it open with a soft creak, revealing a cozy space with a large, comfortable bed. A fluffy comforter in shades of deep blue and silver covered the mattress, and soft light filtered through the window, casting a peaceful glow across the room.

Kaia’s eyes widened as she stepped inside, looking around the room in wonder. “So pwwetty, Dada!” she exclaimed, her wings fluttering in excitement.

Azriel chuckled softly as he watched her take in the space. “I’m glad you like it, Kaia. This will be our room for the week.”

He guided her over to the bed, helping her climb up onto it. She immediately flopped down, her small body sinking into the softness of the blankets. Azriel followed, sitting beside her, his wings brushing the fabric of the bedding as he settled in.

Kaia rolled onto her back, her little hands resting on her chest as she stared up at the ceiling. “Dada, we pway in the snow now?” she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

Azriel chuckled, brushing a hand through her hair. “Soon, sweetie. We’ll go out there and play, but first, we need to get settled and rest a bit.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You can nap here for a little while, and when you wake up, we’ll go outside together.”

Kaia’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her soft breathing steadying as she relaxed into the bed. Azriel sat quietly beside her, his gaze lingering on her peaceful face. This, he thought, was the calm he needed—the precious moments of stillness before the chaos of the week began. The weight of the world could wait a little longer.

Nyx burst through the door, eyes wide and his face flushed from running. His breath came in quick gasps as he skidded to a stop just inside the room. His messy hair was wild, and he had that familiar look of someone who had been running away from something—more specifically, from someone.

“Close the door, Azriel!” Nyx shouted, glancing over his shoulder. His 13-year-old face was a mix of exasperation and amusement. “They’re coming!”

Azriel barely had time to react before Nyx rushed forward and made a beeline for the bed, practically diving under the blankets next to Kaia. Kaia, who had been resting quietly, sat up with wide eyes, looking over at her cousin in surprise.

Azriel, trying not to laugh at the sight of Nyx huddled next to his daughter as if he were some secret agent on the run, quickly moved toward the door. Just as he shut it, the sound of loud, excited footsteps could be heard in the hallway, followed by the unmistakable voices of Cassian’s sons calling after Nyx.

“Nyx! Where’d you go? We’ll find you!” Torran’s voice rang out, followed by Emrus and Calen shouting in a chorus.

Azriel grinned, shaking his head. “What did you do to deserve that?” he asked Nyx, who had now curled up under the blanket next to Kaia, trying to hide as much of himself as he could.

Nyx poked his head out from beneath the covers, his eyes darting to the door. “They’re relentless,” he muttered with a smirk. “They wanted me to show them how to use the dagger I found, but they’re way too reckless. I told them I’d rather live.”

Azriel chuckled, ruffling Nyx’s hair as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I told you they’d be trouble. But I didn’t expect you to be the one running from them.”

Kaia giggled at the sight of her older cousin hiding, her wings fluttering a little in her excitement. “Nyxie funny!” she said, her voice high-pitched with joy.

Nyx gave a half-smile in return, his cheeks still flushed from his sprint. “You’re one to talk, Kaia. I think you’re the one who’s funny.” He stuck his tongue out at her, and Kaia giggled, reaching out to tug on the corner of his sleeve.

Azriel shook his head with a quiet laugh, glancing toward the door as he heard the footsteps grow quieter. “Looks like they’ve given up for now,” he said with a chuckle. “You might be safe for a little while, Nyx.”

“Good,” Nyx replied, settling back into the blankets next to Kaia, who had now decided to snuggle close to him. “I think I’ll stay here until they forget what they were chasing me for.”

-----

The sun hung high in the Day Court sky, its warmth streaming through the open terrace where you, Feyre, and Nesta lounged comfortably. You were settled on plush chairs, a pitcher of sparkling wine and three glasses between you. The scent of citrus and sea salt drifted on the breeze, blending perfectly with the laughter that filled the space.

Feyre leaned forward, her gaze sharp with curiosity as she swirled her drink. “Alright, I can’t take it anymore. You’re going to have to tell us about Eris.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk as she tilted her head at you. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten, sister. You casually drop that you’ve slept with Eris, Lucien, and Tarquin, and expect us not to demand details?”

You sighed dramatically, leaning back in your chair as you looked between them. Their relentless pestering had started the moment you mentioned it yesterday, and it didn’t look like they’d let up anytime soon.

“Alright, fine,” you said, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “If you must know, Eris was my first.”

Feyre’s jaw dropped, her glass clinking against the table as she set it down quickly. “Eris?” she repeated, her voice somewhere between shock and disbelief. “The Eris Vanserra? High Lord of the Autumn Court, lord of insufferable arrogance?”

Nesta, on the other hand, let out a soft laugh, her cool demeanour masking the intrigue in her eyes. “I’m not surprised,” she said smoothly. “He has a certain… flair about him.”

You rolled your eyes at Feyre’s reaction, taking a sip of your drink before answering. “Yes, Eris. And he wasn’t as arrogant then as he is now. We were both young. He was charming, and I was… curious.”

Feyre shook her head as if trying to process the information. “I’m sorry, but you need to elaborate. How did that even happen?”

You leaned forward, resting your arms on the table, a small smile tugging at your lips as you recalled the memory. “It was centuries ago, long before the War. I was still finding my place in the Night Court, and Eris… well, he was already the future High Lord of the Autumn Court. He came to the court of nightmares with his father on some diplomatic nonsense. I was introduced as Rhysand’s sister, and Eris… he was bold.”

Nesta’s brow arched. “Bold how?”

You smirked, swirling the wine in your glass. “He cornered me at a party. Told me I was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen and asked me to dance. One thing led to another, and we ended up spending the rest of the night together.”

Feyre groaned, placing her head in her hands. “This is too much.”

Nesta chuckled, a rare, genuine sound. “Sounds like Eris knew what he wanted.”

You nodded, your smile softening. “He did. And despite what he’s become, back then, he wasn’t so bad. We parted ways amicably, and that was that.”

Feyre peeked at you from between her fingers. “And you just… never told us? Not even when we were dealing with him during the whole alliance mess?”

“Well,” you said, shrugging, “it didn’t seem relevant. And besides, you two are in your thirties. I’m over five hundred years old. You didn’t exactly ask for my full romantic history.”

Nesta scoffed, leaning back in her chair. “And yet here we are, prying it out of you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her response. “Alright, alright. For the record, yes, I’ve slept with more than just Azriel. Eris, Lucien, Tarquin—”

“Tarquin too?” Feyre interrupted, her voice an octave higher.

You nodded with a sly grin. “He was sweet, actually. Very attentive.”

Nesta exchanged a wide-eyed look with Feyre before turning back to you. “You’ve certainly had an interesting history.”

You raised your glass in a mock toast. “I’ve lived a long life. And every mistake, every fling, every relationship has led me to where I am now.”

Feyre shook her head, lifting her own glass. “I still can’t believe Eris.”

Nesta smirked, raising her glass as well. “To Eris, Tarquin, Lucien, and whoever else we haven’t uncovered yet.”

Feyre leaned forward in her chair, her gaze sharp with curiosity, the sunlight catching the mischievous glint in her eyes. "Alright, since we’re getting the full history… Helion. Twice, he said?"

Nesta arched a brow, her lips twitching as though she was trying not to smirk. "And he’s the truth-teller, so we know it’s true. Twice. What’s the story there?"

You groaned, leaning back against the plush cushions of the Day Court lounge. The scent of jasmine and citrus hung in the air, blending with the warmth of the midday sun. You sipped your wine slowly, stalling as Feyre and Nesta exchanged expectant glances.

"You two are relentless," you muttered, shaking your head. "Fine. Yes, Helion and I… had our moments. Twice."

Nesta tilted her head, a sly smile spreading across her face. "And what exactly sparked those moments?"

You set your glass down, resting your elbows on your knees as you smirked. "It was centuries ago—long before Rhysand being High lord so soon was even a thought in the Night Court's plans. Helion was young, charming, and absolutely insufferable. He loved to flirt, and I… well, I liked the attention."

Feyre snorted. "Sounds like him."

You chuckled. "The first time was during a diplomatic visit to the Day Court. We’d been dancing at one of their endless celebrations, and one thing led to another. He was persistent, and I was curious."

"And the second time?" Nesta asked, her tone neutral but her eyes gleaming with intrigue.

You sighed, tilting your head back as you remembered. "That was years later. I visited the Day Court to broker a trade agreement. Helion was even more insufferable by then, but gods, he knew how to get under my skin. He flirted shamelessly, practically challenged me to resist him. I didn’t."

Feyre leaned back in her chair, looking torn between amusement and disbelief. "So, twice. And neither time it became anything serious?"

You shook your head. "It was never serious. Helion and I were… friends, in a way. We enjoyed each other’s company, and that was that. No strings, no expectations."

Nesta tapped her fingers against the rim of her glass, her voice dry. "Well, at least we know why he called you the ‘loss of his life.’"

You laughed, raising your glass to her. "Helion’s dramatic. Always has been. But he’s a good male, and we’ve remained on friendly terms ever since."

Feyre narrowed her eyes playfully. "And you just forgot to mention this to us before?"

"Forgot? No," you replied with a grin. "I just didn’t think it was relevant. My past is… well, it’s my past. I’ve lived a long life, and I didn’t think you’d want to hear about all of it."

"Clearly, we do," Nesta quipped, her smirk widening.

Feyre leaned forward again, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Alright, and who was better—Helion or Eris?"

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as you lifted your glass. "That’s a secret I’ll take to my grave."

Nesta groaned in mock frustration. "You’re impossible."

"Am I?" you teased, grinning at both of them. "Or am I just keeping some mystery alive?"

The sun shifted lazily across the sky, casting golden hues over the Day Court’s sprawling terrace as you, Feyre, and Nesta lounged in your seats, the pitcher of wine now half-empty. The laughter and teasing had yet to cease since you admitted to your history with Helion, and your sisters seemed more determined than ever to get every last detail out of you.

Feyre leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her face a mix of exasperation and amusement. "I’m just saying, I don’t know why you won’t answer. We’ve been at this for hours. You slept with Helion twice. It’s not like we’re asking you to write a ballad about it."

Nesta, sitting across from you, swirled her wine with an exaggerated air of patience. "Exactly. All we’re asking for is a comparison. Was he better than Eris? Worse? Or maybe somewhere in between?"

You groaned, throwing your head back against the plush cushions of your chair. "You two are ridiculous. Why does it even matter?"

"It matters," Feyre said firmly, pointing at you with a grin, "because you’re our sister, and you’ve been holding out on us. Centuries of experience, and you’re just now letting us in on the good parts."

Nesta smirked. "You’ve lived five hundred years longer than us. The least you can do is share some wisdom. Especially if it involves Helion and Eris. And Tarquin."

You shot her a mock glare. "I am not giving you a ranking, Nesta."

She raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips tugging upward. "Who said anything about a ranking? Although, now that you mention it—"

"Nesta," you groaned, cutting her off as Feyre snorted into her wineglass.

Feyre set her drink down, her face alight with mischief. "You know what’s killing me? The fact that Helion said it himself. Twice. Twice means something. Was it because the first time wasn’t good enough? Or was it so good you couldn’t resist a second time?"

"Feyre," you said, your voice exasperated but tinged with laughter, "you’re impossible."

Nesta crossed her legs, her sharp gaze fixed on you. "Don’t change the subject. What I want to know is if it was Helion’s charm or his… skills that made you go back for round two."

"Gods," you muttered, covering your face with your hands as they dissolved into laughter.

"Come on," Feyre coaxed, leaning closer, her eyes bright. "We’re your sisters. You can tell us. Was it the muscles? The golden glow? Or did he just talk his way into your bed again?"

"Both of you need to stop," you said, though the smile pulling at your lips betrayed your exasperation.

Nesta’s smirk widened. "We’re not stopping until we get answers. You’ve been teasing us all day."

"And what exactly do you want me to say?" you shot back, laughing despite yourself. "That Helion is charming? Fine, he’s charming. That he’s skilled? Fine, he’s skilled. Happy now?"

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a look, then simultaneously shook their heads.

"Not even close," Feyre said.

"We want details," Nesta added.

You groaned again, reaching for your wineglass as Feyre and Nesta started tossing out theories and questions, their determination unyielding. Hours had passed, and yet they showed no signs of letting up.

You could only laugh, raising your glass in mock surrender. "You two are relentless. Absolutely relentless."

"And you love us for it," Feyre teased, her grin wicked.

Feyre, her cheeks flushed from the wine, leaned forward with an impish grin. "Alright, alright. Let’s simplify this. Who was the best? Helion, Eris, or Tarquin?"

Nesta smirked, sipping from her glass like she had all the time in the world. "Yes, let’s settle this once and for all. You have to pick one."

You groaned, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your temples. "Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated by the Inner Circle’s most dangerous duo?"

"Because you are," Feyre said cheerfully.

Nesta raised an eyebrow, her expression cool but her eyes sparkling. "And don’t think you can distract us. We’ve waited centuries to hear this gossip. We deserve answers."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to think of a way out of this. "I’m not ranking them. That’s final."

"Fine," Feyre said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Then just tell us who surprised you the most."

You blinked at her, caught off guard. "Surprised me?"

Nesta tilted her head thoughtfully. "That’s actually a good question. Who was different than you expected?"

You considered this for a moment, swirling the wine in your glass. "Well… if I had to pick someone, I’d say Eris."

Feyre’s eyes widened, and Nesta leaned forward, clearly intrigued. "Why Eris?" Feyre asked.

You hesitated, then shrugged. "Because despite all his arrogance and fire, he was surprisingly gentle. He could be soft when he wanted to be, which wasn’t often, but it was enough to catch me off guard."

Nesta looked impressed. "That is surprising. I wouldn’t have guessed that about him."

Feyre rested her chin in her hand, a dreamy look on her face. "I can actually see it. He’s all rough edges on the outside, but maybe there’s something softer underneath."

"Don’t let him hear you say that," you said with a laugh. "He’d deny it until his dying breath."

"And Helion?" Nesta pressed, not letting you off the hook.

You sighed again, shaking your head with a small smile. "Helion is exactly who you think he is. Charming, confident, and very, very good at what he does."

Feyre fanned herself dramatically, laughing. "You’re not making this any easier for us, you know."

"And Tarquin?" Nesta asked, her tone even but her smirk giving her away.

Your smile softened. "Tarquin was sweet. Gentle, almost shy at times. But there was a strength to him too, a quiet confidence. He was… different."

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a look, then turned back to you with matching grins.

"Well?" Nesta said. "We still haven’t gotten a clear answer."

You threw up your hands in exasperation. "Because there isn’t one! They were all different, alright? Can we move on now? I've chose my husband, is that not enough!"

Feyre snorted, shaking her head. "Not a chance."

Nesta raised her glass, her smirk widening. "You’re stuck with us, sister. Might as well spill everything."

Helion strolled into the room with his usual air of confidence, his golden robes shimmering in the fading sunlight. His grin widened as he took in the three of you lounging with wine, clearly enjoying yourselves.

"Ah," he said, spreading his arms theatrically, "the beauties of the Night Court, still gracing my halls. What trouble have you been causing in my absence?"

Before you could say a word, Feyre and Nesta pounced.

"Helion!" Feyre exclaimed, her tone filled with mock scandal. "How did you manage to sleep with her twice?"

Nesta smirked, tilting her head as she added, "We’ve been trying to get answers out of her for hours, but she’s being terribly uncooperative. Care to enlighten us?"

Helion froze for a fraction of a second, then threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and full. "Ah, so she’s finally told you about our little… history." His amber eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked at you. "And here I thought that was our secret."

You groaned, sinking deeper into your chair. "I’m going to kill both of you," you muttered, glaring at your sisters.

Feyre ignored you, her grin as wide as ever. "Come on, Helion. We’re dying to know. Twice? What did you do to manage that?"

Helion sauntered over, pouring himself a glass of wine as if he had all the time in the world. He took a slow sip, savouring the moment, before leaning casually against the edge of the table.

"Well," he began, his voice smooth and teasing, "I’d like to think it was my charm, my wit, and, of course, my irresistible good looks."

Nesta rolled her eyes. "Be serious."

Helion chuckled, setting his glass down. "Alright, if you must know… it was persistence. Your sister wasn’t easy to win over. The first time took weeks of courting—dancing, poetry, gifts. I had to work for it."

Feyre’s eyes widened. "Dancing and poetry? Really?"

You groaned again, covering your face. "Helion, stop."

"Why should I?" he teased, his grin widening. "This is far too much fun."

"And the second time?" Nesta pressed, clearly enjoying this far too much.

Helion shrugged, his tone casual but his eyes glinting with amusement. "The second time… well, by then, she already knew what she’d be getting. I’d say it was mutual curiosity more than anything else. A moment of weakness on both our parts."

Feyre burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "I can’t believe this. You’re like an open book!"

Helion raised his glass in a mock toast. "A truth-teller, as they say. I have nothing to hide."

Nesta smirked, turning to you. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

You shot her a withering look. "I hate all of you."

Helion chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair. "Don’t be mad, my dear. It’s all in good fun."

Feyre and Nesta dissolved into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but join them, even as you plotted your revenge for the endless teasing. Helion, ever the showman, basked in the chaos he’d caused, clearly pleased with himself.

Nesta, never one to let an opportunity for drama pass, leaned forward with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Alright, Helion, since you’re such a truth-teller, did you know she’s also slept with Eris and Tarquin?"

Helion, mid-sip of his wine, froze. He lowered the glass slowly, his golden eyes snapping to you with an expression of exaggerated betrayal. "Eris and Tarquin?" He placed a hand over his heart, his voice mock-wounded. "You wound me, my darling. I thought I was the only High Lord you graced with your affections."

Feyre and Nesta howled with laughter, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Helion, don’t start."

But Helion, of course, ignored you entirely. "Eris, I can maybe understand. He has that sharp-edged allure, though I didn’t think you’d fall for his particular brand of arrogance." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "But Tarquin? I would have thought his gentle demeanour was too… tame for you."

Feyre leaned forward eagerly. "So, you didn’t know?"

Helion shook his head, his golden hair catching the sunlight. "Not a clue. This is news to me—and very entertaining news at that." He turned to you with a sly grin. "Darling, were you just collecting powerful men for your own amusement?"

"Apparently," Nesta said dryly, smirking at you.

You glared at all three of them, your cheeks heating. "You’re all impossible."

Helion laughed, clearly relishing the situation. "I feel like I should be offended, but honestly, I’m impressed. Eris, Tarquin, and me? That’s quite the trio. Did you have a checklist of traits you were trying to complete?"

Feyre nearly choked on her wine, laughing so hard tears streamed down her face. Nesta, trying to keep a straight face, asked, "Were they all… at different times, or was this some sort of power alliance you were building?"

"Gods," you groaned, sinking lower in your chair. "I’m leaving."

But Helion was grinning like a cat with cream, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. "Don’t leave now, darling. The best part of this story is just beginning."

Feyre leaned into Nesta, both of them giggling like conspirators. "You have to admit," Feyre said, "this might be the best thing we’ve ever learned about her."

"And the most entertaining," Helion agreed, raising his glass in a toast. "To our fiery Night Court beauty, who’s apparently been breaking hearts across Prythian for centuries."

You scowled at all of them but couldn’t suppress the small, begrudging smile tugging at your lips. "If you don’t stop, I swear I’ll tell Tarquin about the time you lost a bet to me, Helion."

That shut him up—momentarily, at least. Feyre and Nesta, however, were far from done, their teasing laughter following you long into the afternoon.

As the laughter finally began to settle, Feyre, still grinning, leaned forward with a curious glint in her eyes. "Alright, I have to know. With all these men in your past, how did you end up with Azriel in the end? What made him different?"

Before you could answer, Helion let out a booming laugh, nearly spilling his wine. He pointed at you with a playful smirk, shaking his head. "Ah, somehow, the beast won over the beauty."

You shot him a glare, but the corner of your lips betrayed the smallest twitch of a smile. "Helion, if you’re going to call him a beast, you should remember he has shadows that could very well find their way into your dreams."

"Let them," Helion said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "Perhaps they’ll give me insight into how the brooding warrior managed to claim the heart of Prythian’s most elusive treasure."

Nesta snorted, her arms crossed. "Honestly, I’d like to hear this too. What did he do to make you settle down after centuries of… well, you know?"

Feyre leaned in closer, her curiosity unmistakable. "It’s true. I mean, Azriel of all people? Don’t get me wrong, he’s wonderful, but he’s so quiet, so restrained. I can’t picture him chasing after you."

You sighed, swirling the wine in your glass as a fond smile crept onto your face. "That’s the thing. He didn’t chase me. Azriel isn’t the type to play games or put on a show. He just… was himself. Steady, patient, kind. I think that’s what got me. After centuries of grand gestures and fleeting flings, he was the first to make me feel like I could truly rest. Like I didn’t have to be anything other than me."

Feyre’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at her lips. "That’s… actually really beautiful."

Nesta arched a brow. "So you’re saying it was the quiet, brooding patience that won you over?"

You chuckled. "Pretty much. That, and the fact that he’s maddeningly stubborn. He saw through all my walls and didn’t let me push him away, no matter how hard I tried."

Helion sighed dramatically, raising his glass again. "Well, I suppose I’ll allow it. If anyone deserves you, it’s that shadowsinger of yours. But don’t think I’m not still jealous."

"You’ll live," you teased, rolling your eyes at him.

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a glance, both of them smiling now. Feyre’s voice was soft when she spoke. "I’m glad you found someone like him. You deserve that kind of love."

You nodded, a warmth blooming in your chest. "I do too."

Helion groaned, breaking the tender moment with a laugh. "Alright, enough of this sweetness. Where’s the scandal? The chaos? Surely Azriel wasn’t perfect all the time."

You smirked, tilting your head. "Oh, he’s far from perfect, but that’s a story for another time."

Feyre and Nesta groaned in unison, but you just laughed, taking another sip of your wine. Some stories, after all, were meant to be kept between you and Azriel.

-----

Kaia was bundled under a blanket in the middle of the large bed, her tiny wings shifting slightly as she napped. Azriel sat at the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on Kaia’s back as if to shield her from even the idea of the world outside. The soft rise and fall of her breathing filled the quiet room, her little face relaxed in the purest form of peace.

Nyx, sprawled in a chair by the window, watched her with a mixture of amusement and tenderness. "She sleeps like she owns the place," he murmured, his tone a little envious.

Azriel glanced at him, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "She does. At least in her mind."

Nyx chuckled but stayed where he was, resting his chin in his hand. "You’re lucky she’s so small. If she were my age, you’d have your hands full trying to keep her from taking over the entire cabin."

Azriel’s smile widened, his gaze returning to Kaia. "She already has me wrapped around her finger. I wouldn’t even try to stop her."

They lapsed into silence, the comfortable kind that settled naturally between them. Kaia’s wings twitched slightly as she shifted in her sleep, a tiny sigh escaping her lips. Azriel adjusted the blanket around her, his movements practiced and gentle.

The door creaked open, and Rhysand’s unmistakable presence filled the room. He leaned casually against the frame, his arms crossed, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, there you are. I wondered where my son had gone."

Nyx glanced over his shoulder, his expression sheepish. "I’m not hiding. I’m… supervising."

Rhys raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. "Supervising? It looks more like lounging." His gaze shifted to Azriel, who hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed. "And you, Azriel? You’ve recruited my son into your world of quiet brooding already?"

Azriel didn’t look up, his attention still on Kaia. "I’m teaching him patience. A skill you seem to lack."

Rhys chuckled, stepping fully into the room. He looked down at Kaia, his expression softening. "She really is a little marvel, isn’t she?"

"She is," Azriel replied quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Nyx stood, stretching lazily. "Well, if you’ve found me, I guess I’m free to go now."

Rhys gave him a pointed look. "Not so fast. If you’re leaving, you’re taking your cousins with you. They’ve been terrorizing Cassian since you vanished."

Nyx groaned but nodded, pausing to glance at Kaia one last time. "She’s lucky she’s a baby. No one’s expecting her to deal with any of this chaos."

Azriel smirked faintly, his shadows curling protectively around his daughter. "She’ll have her time. For now, this is enough."

Nyx rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, slipping past Rhys and out the door. Rhys lingered, his gaze settling on Azriel with a mix of amusement and fondness.

"You’re in deep, aren’t you?" Rhys said softly.

Azriel finally looked up, his golden eyes unwavering. "Deeper than I ever thought possible."

Rhys smiled, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Good. She deserves that."

With one last glance at Kaia, Rhys left, leaving Azriel alone once more with his sleeping daughter, his expression calm and utterly content.

As Kaia slept soundly, her tiny fists curled into the blanket, Azriel leaned back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on her. The room was quiet save for the soft rustle of her wings and the occasional creak of the cabin as the wind moved outside.

His thoughts, however, weren’t fully here. You had been gone with Feyre and Nesta for hours now, no doubt enjoying yourselves in the Day Court. He trusted you completely, but his mind always wandered when you weren’t within reach, especially with Helion around.

Azriel’s shadows stirred as if sensing his unease, curling lazily around his shoulders and wrists like smoke. He glanced at them, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Go," he murmured quietly. "Check on her."

The shadows seemed to ripple in acknowledgment before slipping from him, snaking out through the room and under the door, silent as always. He watched them disappear, his mind already imagining their path as they travelled across the cabin and beyond.

He shifted his focus back to Kaia, his fingers brushing over the edge of her blanket. She stirred briefly, one of her little wings fluttering, but then she settled again, a soft hum escaping her lips.

It didn’t take long before his shadows returned, curling around him with familiar ease. They brought back glimpses of your laughter, the sound of Feyre teasing Helion, and the faint scent of the Day Court’s jasmine-laden air.

"Enjoying yourself, are you?" Azriel muttered to himself, a soft chuckle escaping him. Despite his love for you, he couldn't help the small pang of longing to have you here, even in the midst of his joy at knowing you were having fun.

Kaia shifted again, and Azriel leaned forward, adjusting her blanket before sitting back, his expression softening as his shadows whispered their findings to him. At least you were happy and safe, and for now, that was enough.

The peaceful quiet of the room was shattered as the door suddenly swung open with a loud creak, followed by Cassian’s booming voice.

"Az, have you seen where—"

Before he could finish, Kaia stirred, her little nose scrunching as she let out a soft whine. Azriel shot Cassian a glare sharp enough to cut steel, his shadows coiling tighter around him in warning.

"Cassian," Azriel hissed, his voice low and dangerous.

Cassian froze mid-step, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he realized what he had done. "Oh, shit," he muttered, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Kaia’s whine turned into a soft, drowsy cry as her eyes fluttered open, her tiny wings twitching beneath the blanket. "Dada," she murmured groggily, her voice thick with sleep.

Azriel immediately leaned forward, his hand stroking her back soothingly. "It’s okay, Kaia," he murmured, his voice soft and calming. "Dada’s here."

Kaia blinked up at him, her big hazel eyes—so much like his—glistening with half-formed tears. She reached out a small hand, her fingers clumsily clutching at his tunic. "Too loud," she mumbled, her toddler speech slurring slightly.

Azriel shot another pointed glare at Cassian, who was still frozen in the doorway. "You woke her up," Azriel said, his tone clipped.

Cassian had the decency to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t realize she was napping," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "Sorry, Kaia."

Kaia, however, wasn’t so easily placated. She turned her head toward Cassian, her little brows furrowed. "Cassy bad," she declared, her tiny voice firm despite the sleepiness clinging to it.

Cassian blinked, then burst out laughing. "Oh, come on, kid. Don’t sell me out like that!"

Azriel gently scooped Kaia into his arms, her small wings drooping as she nestled against his chest. "You brought this on yourself," he muttered, his tone dry.

Kaia, already calming in her father’s arms, shot Cassian one last pout before burying her face in Azriel’s tunic. "No loud," she mumbled, her voice muffled.

Cassian held up his hands again in surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. I’m the villain here."

Azriel sighed, rocking Kaia gently as she started to settle. "What do you need, Cassian?"

"Nothing that can’t wait," Cassian replied, stepping back toward the door with a sheepish grin. "I’ll let you get back to it. And, uh, sorry again, Kaia."

Kaia didn’t bother to respond, already drifting back into a doze against Azriel’s shoulder. Cassian gave a final wave before slipping out, closing the door much more quietly this time.

Azriel sighed, his shadows wrapping around him and Kaia protectively. "Troublemaker," he muttered, though whether he meant Cassian or his daughter, even he wasn’t sure.

Kaia shifted against Azriel’s chest, her little wings twitching under the blanket he had draped around her. She let out a soft, frustrated sigh, her tiny fists curling into his tunic as she blinked her wide hazel eyes up at him.

"Dada," she whispered, her voice barely louder than a breath, "no sweepy."

Azriel brushed a hand gently over her soft, dark curls, his expression softening. "You need to rest, Kaia," he murmured, rocking her slightly. "You’ve had a big day already."

She shook her head, her curls bouncing with the motion. "No sweepy," she insisted, her voice gaining a bit more strength. Her little hand tugged at his tunic, her pout forming as she looked up at him. "Cassy loud. Kaia wake."

Azriel sighed, his shadows curling lazily around them as if to create a cocoon of calm. "I know, love," he said softly. "But you’ll be tired later if you don’t sleep now."

Kaia wrinkled her nose, clearly unconvinced. "No sweep. Play?"

He smiled faintly, brushing a finger down her nose. "It’s not time to play, Kaia."

She huffed, her little wings fluttering in agitation as she shifted in his arms. "Kaia no tired," she declared, her tone bordering on stubborn.

Azriel chuckled under his breath, standing up from the bed with her in his arms. "Alright, let’s see if we can make you sleepy again."

He began pacing the room slowly, his movements deliberate and soothing. He hummed a low, calming tune, the same one he’d used to lull her to sleep since she was a newborn. Kaia rested her head against his shoulder, her eyes half-closing as the melody washed over her, but her little fingers still fidgeted with the edge of his tunic.

"Dada," she whispered after a moment, her voice softer now, "sing more?"

Azriel smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Of course, my star," he said, his voice gentle.

As he continued humming, Kaia’s breathing began to even out again, though her wings twitched every so often. Even as her eyelids grew heavier, she didn’t quite let herself drift off, as if determined to fight sleep as long as she could.

Azriel kept at it, patient as ever, holding her close and rocking her gently. Eventually, her small hand stilled, and her soft breaths fell into rhythm. He glanced down to see her eyes finally closed, her little body fully relaxed against his.

"Stubborn, just like your mother," he murmured with a fond smile, brushing another kiss to her forehead before settling her back onto the bed.

Azriel watched Kaia for a moment longer, ensuring she was completely settled. Her little wings lay still now, tucked neatly beneath the blanket, and her tiny hand rested loosely by her face. Her soft breaths filled the room, the kind of sound that brought a rare peace to Azriel’s ever-guarded heart.

Satisfied she was finally asleep, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, his shadows curling protectively around her as if to ensure no sound or disturbance would wake her this time. He straightened slowly, his steps deliberate and silent as he moved toward the door.

Azriel opened it just wide enough to slip through, closing it with a quiet click behind him. His sharp senses immediately attuned to the sounds of the cabin: faint laughter and the unmistakable hum of conversation coming from the main room where Cassian and Rhysand were.

He moved down the hallway with his usual grace, his boots making almost no sound on the wooden floor. His shadows lingered at the edges of the hall, stretching ahead of him as though scouting the way.

As he approached the room, Cassian’s boisterous laughter echoed, followed by Rhysand’s smoother, amused tone.

"You do realize that was entirely your fault," Rhys was saying, his voice carrying a hint of teasing.

Cassian’s retort was immediate. "How was I supposed to know she was napping? Az didn’t put up a sign."

Azriel stepped into the room, his expression calm but his gaze sharp. "You didn’t need a sign, Cassian. It’s common sense."

Cassian turned, his grin wide despite the reprimand. "Ah, the shadow master returns. Did you get your little princess back to sleep?"

Azriel moved to stand near the fireplace, his shadows flickering faintly in the firelight. "She’s asleep now. Don’t wake her again, or I’ll ensure you regret it."

Rhysand chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a knowing smirk. "Kaia has you wrapped tighter around her finger than I thought possible, brother."

Azriel shrugged, unbothered. "She’s two. What’s your excuse for Nyx?"

Rhys’s smirk widened, and Cassian let out a bark of laughter. "Touché," Cassian said, raising his glass in a mock toast.

Azriel sighed, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. "What’s the status of the rest of the cabin? Any other disasters I need to know about?"

Cassian waved a hand dismissively. "The boys are fine—for now. Nyx is keeping them occupied."

"For how long?" Azriel asked dryly, his golden gaze shifting between them.

Rhysand grinned. "Long enough for us to enjoy the silence. Or what’s left of it, considering Cassian’s volume."

Cassian scoffed, throwing a cushion at Rhys, who dodged it with a laugh. Azriel shook his head, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his expression as he watched his brothers.

"Let’s just hope this calm lasts," he muttered, though deep down, he knew better.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall before Calen burst into the room, his face flushed with frustration. His dark hair was tousled, and his little wings fluttered in agitation as he stomped in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"Uncle Az! Uncle Rhys! Dad!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying the unmistakable tone of a boy who had reached his limit.

Cassian immediately straightened, his grin widening as he turned toward his youngest. "What’s wrong, champ? You look like you’ve just fought a battle and lost."

Calen shot his father a glare, his small jaw set in defiance. "Torran and Emrus won’t stop bossing me around, and Nyx keeps telling me I’m too little to play the game!"

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, lounging back in his chair with a smirk. "What game is this, exactly?"

"Some stupid hide-and-seek game, but they keep making rules that don’t make sense!" Calen huffed, his wings flaring slightly as he planted his feet firmly on the ground. "And they won’t let me hide where I want!"

Azriel’s lips twitched as he exchanged a glance with Cassian. "Sounds like they’re trying to stack the odds in their favour," he said evenly, his shadows curling lazily around his shoulders.

Cassian laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Ah, Calen, you’ve got to be cleverer than that. Outsmart them! You’re the youngest—that’s your secret weapon. They’ll never see it coming."

Calen frowned, clearly unimpressed by the advice. "But they don’t listen to me," he muttered, his lower lip jutting out in a pout.

Rhysand tapped a finger against his chin, his violet eyes twinkling with amusement. "You know, Calen, if you want to win, maybe you should team up with someone else. Divide and conquer."

Calen tilted his head, his young mind clearly working through the suggestion. "Like Kaia?"

Azriel, who had been watching quietly, arched an eyebrow. "Kaia is napping, Calen. And she’s not exactly old enough to strategize."

"But she’s sneaky," Calen insisted, his eyes lighting up with the beginnings of a plan. "She’s little, and she can hide really good!"

Cassian let out a hearty laugh, clapping a hand on his son’s shoulder. "Now that’s thinking like a true warrior! But maybe let Kaia sleep a bit longer before you recruit her to your cause."

Calen sighed dramatically, his wings drooping slightly. "Fine," he grumbled, though his mind was clearly still turning over ideas.

Azriel crouched down to Calen’s level, his golden eyes steady and calm. "You’ll figure it out, Calen. And if you really need help, come find me. I’m sure we can even the playing field."

The boy perked up at that, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Thanks, Uncle Az."

"Anytime," Azriel replied, straightening again as Calen turned and marched back toward the hall, clearly ready to face his brothers and cousin once more.

As the door closed behind him, Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. "That one’s going to give them hell when he gets older."

Azriel simply shook his head, a faint smile lingering on his lips as his shadows whispered faintly around him. "Let’s just hope he doesn’t wake Kaia in the process."

The sound of measured footsteps approached the room, and moments later, Nyx leaned casually against the doorway, his expression a mix of amusement and mild panic. His dark hair was slightly mussed, and his eyes—the same striking shade as his mother’s—sparkled with mischief and just a hint of guilt.

"Uh, heads up," Nyx announced, crossing his arms and glancing between his father, Cassian, and Azriel. "There’s a broken vase on the second floor."

Rhysand’s brow lifted, his smirk fading as he sat up straighter. "A broken vase? Which vase, Nyx?"

Nyx hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "You know, the one mom really likes. The blue one with the gold pattern."

Cassian groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You’ve got to be kidding me. That thing is practically an antique!"

Azriel’s gaze sharpened, his arms crossing over his chest. "How did it happen?"

Nyx shrugged, the picture of nonchalance, though the way he avoided direct eye contact betrayed his nerves. "Well, Torran and Emrus were throwing a ball, and Calen tried to catch it, but he tripped, and... smash."

Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a slow breath. "And where were you in all this?"

"Supervising," Nyx replied quickly, though his sly grin faltered when his father gave him a pointed look.

"Supervising," Rhys repeated dryly. "And did it occur to you to stop them before they destroyed something your mother treasures?"

Nyx raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I tried! But you know how they are—they don’t listen to me half the time. Besides," he added with a smirk, "it’s kind of funny when you think about it."

Cassian let out a short laugh, but it quickly turned into a cough when Azriel shot him a warning glare.

"You do realize," Azriel said in his calm, deadly tone, "that not only is Feyre going to be furious, but Y/N will probably be even worse. You know how she feels about people not respecting the house."

Nyx grimaced, his playful demeanor faltering entirely. "Yeah, I figured. That’s why I’m warning you. I thought you might want to... I don’t know, soften the blow or something."

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, a weary sigh escaping him. "Nyx, you’re going to help clean it up, and then you’re going to explain to your mother and Y/N what happened. Understood?"

Nyx groaned, his shoulders slumping. "Do I have to? Can’t you just—"

"Understood?" Rhysand repeated, his tone firm.

"Yes, sir," Nyx mumbled, dragging his feet as he turned to leave. But just as he reached the doorway, he glanced back over his shoulder.

"Good luck with Mom and Aunt Y/N," he added with a sly grin. "I’m sure they’ll both be... understanding."

And with that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving the three men in heavy silence.

Cassian was the first to break it, shaking his head with a rueful laugh. "This is why I always say we should have fewer breakable things in the house. Kids and antiques don’t mix."

"Maybe," Azriel muttered, his jaw tightening slightly, "but I doubt that’s going to help us right now."

Rhysand chuckled darkly, his violet eyes narrowing in amusement. "If Y/N and Feyre walk in before we figure out a plan, we’re doomed."

The trio made their way up to the second floor, their footsteps echoing faintly through the quiet hall. As they rounded the corner toward the room where the vase had once sat, the sight of shards scattered across the floor greeted them.

Cassian winced, crouching down to survey the damage. "Well, that’s... something," he muttered, examining the pieces of the vase. But his voice faltered as his gaze swept over the floor and landed on Emrus, who was crouched nearby, his hand pressed tightly against his side.

Azriel was the first to react, his expression hardening as he moved quickly toward the boy. "Emrus?"

The young boy flinched but didn't immediately pull his hand away. Blood trickled between his fingers, dark against the pale skin of his hand, and when he lifted his eyes to meet Azriel's, they were wide with fear.

"It... it’s not bad," Emrus stammered, though his voice wavered with pain. "I just... I didn’t mean to—"

Azriel gently pried Emrus’s hand away from his side, and a sharp intake of breath escaped him as he saw the small shard of ceramic lodged in Emrus’s palm. The cut was deep enough that the piece had embedded itself into the wound.

"How did this happen?" Azriel asked, his voice low and controlled, though there was a clear edge of concern.

Emrus swallowed hard. "I—uh—I was trying to pick up the pieces, and I didn’t see it. It... just happened."

Cassian crouched next to him, examining the cut with a frown. "This isn’t something you can just ignore, kid. We need to get that out and clean it."

Azriel nodded, his expression shifting to one of determination as he carefully reached for the piece of ceramic embedded in Emrus’s hand. "This might hurt," he warned, his voice softening to reassure the boy.

Emrus winced as Azriel gently tugged at the shard, and the pain caused his body to stiffen, but he didn’t cry out. Azriel, with his expert hands, slowly removed the piece and then pressed his palm over the wound to staunch the bleeding.

Cassian immediately stood, his voice low but urgent. "I’ll get some supplies. We need to clean it properly."

Azriel remained crouched next to Emrus, his shadows swirling around them protectively. "Stay calm, Emrus," Azriel murmured, his eyes never leaving the boy’s face. "You’re going to be fine."

Emrus nodded weakly, his face pale but determined. "I’m sorry about the vase, Uncle Az. I didn’t mean to break it."

Azriel’s gaze softened, his voice gentle. "I know you didn’t. Just focus on breathing. You’ll be alright."

Cassian returned a moment later with a small first-aid kit, and Azriel quickly got to work, cleaning the wound and applying a bandage. Once he finished, he met Emrus’s eyes. "All done."

Emrus flexed his fingers experimentally, then gave Azriel a tentative smile. "It doesn’t hurt anymore."

"Good," Azriel said, offering him a small nod. He looked up at Cassian, who was watching from a few feet away. "Make sure he doesn’t try to go back to playing until that heals, alright?"

Cassian waved a hand dismissively, though there was no hiding the worry in his eyes. "Of course, of course. I’ll make sure he takes it easy for the rest of the day."

Azriel stood up, glancing once more at the broken vase before looking back at Emrus. "Are you alright to sit for a while?"

Emrus nodded again, holding up his now-bandaged hand. "Yeah. I’ll stay here."

Azriel nodded, his eyes flicking back toward the door as he stepped away, glancing at Cassian. "Let’s clean up the mess before the others get up here. They won’t be pleased."

Cassian grinned, clapping Azriel on the back. "Oh, I’m sure they’ll understand. At least once we show them the bleeding hand, they’ll feel sorry for you."

Azriel smirked. "I think they’ll just be mad that we didn’t prevent it in the first place."

"True," Cassian replied with a chuckle. "Alright, let’s get to it."

As they bent down to start cleaning the shards, Azriel’s mind wandered briefly to the children—so full of energy, always finding ways to get into trouble. But despite it all, he knew he would do anything to protect them. Even if it meant dealing with broken vases and wounds along the way.

-----

The three of you were sprawled across an opulent chaise in one of the Day Court’s sunlit sitting rooms, golden light pouring in through the high windows. The wine bottles scattered across the table were almost empty, and the haze of tipsiness made everything funnier, everything lighter. Nesta and Feyre were giggling uncontrollably, their cheeks flushed a deep pink.

“You know,” Feyre slurred, swirling the last of her wine in her glass, “I have to say... I was worried when I first got with Rhys. I mean, he talks such a big game—”

You cut her off with a loud groan, throwing a pillow at her. “Don’t. Stop. No!” You held up a hand as if warding off some invisible evil. “Feyre, that’s my brother. My brother. I don’t want to hear anything about him in bed!”

Nesta burst out laughing, nearly spilling her drink. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t tell me you’ve never wondered—”

“No!” you shrieked, grabbing another pillow to chuck at her this time. “Absolutely not! I’m disgusted you’d even suggest it. I’d rather rip out my own wings again than hear about Rhysand’s—” You shuddered dramatically, cutting yourself off.

Feyre, in tears from laughing so hard, managed to gasp out, “Fine, fine! I won’t bring him up again. But just so you know... amazing. Amazing.”

Nesta let out a cackle as you groaned loudly, grabbing the wine bottle and drinking straight from it to erase the mental image.

“Alright,” Nesta said after catching her breath, leaning back smugly. “Since Feyre can’t talk about Rhys anymore, let’s talk about Cassian.”

You snorted. “This should be good.”

Nesta smirked, twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. “Oh, he’s exactly what you’d expect. Loud, commanding, cocky. He thinks he’s the best at everything—and honestly? He’s not wrong.”

Feyre and you burst into laughter, but Nesta wasn’t done. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a devilish grin. “But there’s this one thing he does with his wings—”

“No, no, no!” Feyre groaned, covering her ears with her hands. “I don’t need to hear about my brother-in-law like that!”

You, meanwhile, were doubled over, tears streaming down your face as you laughed. “Nesta, you’re going to kill her!”

Nesta raised her glass in triumph, her grin widening. “I’m just saying, he’s got stamina. And creativity. What more could I ask for?”

Feyre looked like she might pass out from mortification, and you took the opportunity to change the subject—or so you thought.

“Alright, Y/N,” Nesta said, turning her sharp gaze on you. “Your turn. Spill. What’s Azriel like?”

You froze mid-sip, choking slightly as you set the glass down. “Oh, no. I’m not doing this. No way.”

Feyre and Nesta both leaned in closer, their eyes glittering with mischievous glee. “Come on,” Feyre urged, her voice lilting with the wine. “We told you about ours. Fair’s fair.”

Nesta smirked. “Don’t be shy. We all know Azriel’s got... talents.”

You flushed, shaking your head furiously. “Nope. Not happening. I’m not feeding your curiosity again.”

“Please,” Feyre said, drawing the word out into a whine. “We’re your sisters! We deserve to know!”

You sighed, giving them a half-hearted glare. “Fine. I’ll say this: Azriel is... thorough.”

They both burst out laughing, and you quickly held up a finger. “That’s all you’re getting. Thorough. Nothing else.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun. I was hoping for something juicy.”

“Yeah, well,” you shot back, smirking, “I’ve got to preserve some mystery. Unlike you two, apparently.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes, her competitive streak kicking in as she leaned closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. "You’re holding out on us, Y/N. ‘Thorough’ doesn’t cut it. You’ve got to give us something."

Feyre nodded in agreement, her cheeks flushed with wine and mischief. "Exactly. You can’t just leave us hanging. Spill, sister."

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "You two are relentless, you know that?"

Nesta smirked, crossing her arms. "And you’re stubborn. But we’ve got all day and another bottle of wine. So talk."

Feyre chimed in, waving the almost-empty bottle in your direction. "We’ll even pour you another glass if it helps."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "Bribery? Really?"

"Whatever it takes," Feyre said, her grin widening.

With a dramatic sigh, you threw your hands up in defeat. "Fine! Fine. But if Rhysand or Cassian ever hear about this, I’m blaming both of you."

Nesta’s smirk widened as she refilled her glass. "They won’t hear it from us. Promise."

You took a long sip of wine, stalling for time. Finally, you set the glass down and crossed your arms. "Alright. Azriel... is quiet. Not in a boring way, but in this... intense, focused way. He pays attention to everything. He notices the little things—like the way my breath hitches when he touches certain places or the exact moment to slow down or speed up. He’s—"

Feyre’s eyes widened, and she nearly choked on her wine. "Oh, Mother. Keep going."

Nesta raised an eyebrow, her smirk practically predatory. "I knew it. All that control he has? Bet it all comes undone in the bedroom."

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. "Sometimes. But even when it does, it’s still... deliberate. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s enjoying every second of it."

Feyre fanned herself dramatically, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "No wonder you look so smug all the time."

Nesta laughed, leaning back in her chair. "I always figured he’d be good, but damn, Y/N. You hit the jackpot."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress the small, satisfied grin on your face. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Feyre said, raising her glass in a mock toast.

Nesta clinked her glass against Feyre’s, her smirk firmly in place. "We’re definitely bringing this up next time the guys think they’re the superior ones."

You groaned, already regretting giving them anything to work with. "You two are impossible."

Feyre grinned, her cheeks still flushed with laughter and wine. "And you’re married to a Shadowsinger. Who knew you were the wildest one of all of us?"

Nesta snorted, leaning in closer with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Alright, next question: How does he use his shadows—"

"NO!" you shouted, cutting her off as you reached for the wine bottle and poured yourself another glass. "This conversation is over. Forever."

But the laughter that followed made you realize you’d walked right into their trap—and you were never going to live it down.

-----

The cabin was finally quiet, the day’s chaos simmering down to a peaceful hum. The fire crackled softly in the stone hearth, casting a warm, golden glow over the living room. All five kids—Nyx, Torran, Emrus, Calen, and little Kaia—were snuggled up on the massive couch, each dressed in their pyjamas. For the first time all day, they were calm, their boundless energy having finally run its course.

Nyx, ever the eldest and self-proclaimed “responsible one,” sat on one end of the couch, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He was pretending to read a book, though his eyelids were drooping. Next to him, Torran and Emrus were leaning against each other, their earlier squabbles forgotten as they shared a blanket. Calen was curled up near Emrus’s side, clutching a small stuffed dragon he insisted was his lucky charm.

Kaia, the tiniest of them all, was tucked securely between Nyx and a pile of pillows, her wings fluttering slightly as she fought to stay awake. Her chubby hands clutched her favourite soft toy, a well-loved plush bat Azriel had given her. She yawned, her big hazel eyes—so much like her father’s—blinking slowly as the warmth of the fire and the coziness of the moment lulled her.

Azriel stood quietly by the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as he took in the rare sight. His shadows swirled lazily around him, their usual restlessness mirroring his relief that, at last, the house was still. Rhysand was seated in one of the armchairs, a cup of tea in hand, his head leaning back against the chair as he watched the children with a faint, contented smile. Cassian, sprawled in another chair, was grinning like a proud father, even as his eyes drooped with exhaustion.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this still,” Cassian muttered, his voice low so as not to disturb the moment.

Rhysand chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s a miracle. Someone write this down.”

Azriel allowed himself a small smile, his gaze lingering on Kaia as she yawned again, her wings twitching before she snuggled deeper into the pillows. “Kaia’s usually asleep long before this,” he murmured, his voice gentle.

Cassian grinned. “She’s a fighter, that one. Just like her dad.”

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, stepping further into the room to drape another blanket over the children. Kaia’s tiny hand reached out instinctively to clutch the edge of the blanket, pulling it close to her chin.

“You think they’ll actually stay down this time?” Rhysand asked, raising an eyebrow.

Azriel glanced at the sleeping children, his expression softening. “They’re done for the night. Even Kaia can’t fight sleep forever.”

Cassian let out a contented sigh, resting his head back. “Peace at last. Let’s not jinx it.”

Nyx stretched his arms over his head, his book slipping onto his lap as he yawned. He glanced at the younger boys, Torran and Emrus, who were beginning to nod off under their shared blanket. With the air of someone much older than his thirteen years, Nyx stood and tapped Torran’s shoulder.

“Alright, time for bed,” he said softly, though his tone left little room for argument.

Torran groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around him. “But it’s warm here...”

Nyx rolled his eyes but smiled. “You’ll be warm in bed too. Come on, before Uncle Cassian carries you like a baby.”

Emrus chuckled sleepily, nudging his brother. “He will, you know.”

That got Torran moving, albeit slowly. He stretched and stumbled off the couch, dragging Emrus with him. Together, the three boys shuffled toward their room, their footsteps soft against the wooden floor.

Cassian, watching from his chair, smirked as he stood. “That’s my boys. Go on, Nyx, make sure they brush their teeth.”

Nyx waved him off, already leading the way. “I know, I know. Night, Uncle Cassian. Night, Uncle Az.”

“Goodnight,” Azriel said quietly, his gaze still on Kaia, who was now fully asleep on the couch.

Cassian turned his attention to Calen, who was still clutching his stuffed dragon and blinking groggily. “Alright, little warrior, time for you too.”

Calen pouted but held up his arms for Cassian to lift him. “Carry me?” he mumbled sleepily.

Cassian’s grin softened as he scooped the six-year-old into his arms, dragon and all. “Of course, buddy. Let’s get you to bed.”

Calen rested his head against Cassian’s shoulder, his eyes already drooping shut as they headed toward the boys’ room. Cassian glanced back at Azriel before disappearing down the hallway.

“You’ve got it good with just one,” he teased lightly.

Azriel’s lips twitched in a faint smile as he adjusted the blanket over Kaia one last time. “For now.”

The house grew quieter as the boys settled into their room, leaving only the crackle of the fire and Kaia’s soft breathing in the living room. Peace, for now, reigned in the cabin.

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, swirling the remnants of his tea in his cup as he watched Azriel fuss over Kaia. A sly smile spread across his face as he crossed one leg over the other, his posture relaxed but his tone laced with mischief.

“You know, Az,” Rhys began casually, his voice low to avoid waking Kaia. “I never thought I’d live to see the day when the great Shadowsinger—silent, brooding, and deadly—would be tucking a toddler in on a couch like a doting father.”

Azriel shot him a sideways glance, his expression unreadable. “What’s your point, Rhys?”

Rhys’s grin widened. “Oh, no point. It’s just amusing to see how utterly whipped you are by someone who weighs less than a loaf of bread and calls you ‘Da-da’ with half her words missing.”

Azriel huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head as he adjusted the blanket over Kaia once more. “She’s two. What’s your excuse for Nyx still calling you ‘Rhysie’?”

Rhys feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest. “That’s different. Nyx calls me that out of love and respect.”

“Or to annoy you,” Azriel countered smoothly.

Rhys chuckled, conceding the point. “Fair enough. But seriously, look at you. The mighty Shadowsinger reduced to a pile of mush every time she looks at you with those big eyes.”

Azriel finally sat back, his arms resting on his knees as he glanced down at Kaia’s sleeping form. The faintest smile tugged at his lips. “Can you blame me?”

Rhys tilted his head, studying his brother-in-law with a rare softness in his gaze. “No, I really can’t. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, and honestly, it’s a sight to behold. Who would’ve thought Azriel’s greatest weakness would be a pint-sized Illyrian with wings?”

Azriel’s shadows curled lazily around him, their movements mirroring his contentment. “She’s not my weakness, Rhys,” he said quietly, his voice firm. “She’s my strength.”

Rhys’s teasing smile faltered for a moment, replaced by something deeper. He gave a small nod, his voice quieter now. “You’re a good father, Az. Kaia’s lucky to have you.”

Azriel looked back at him, his expression softening in gratitude. “Thanks, Rhys.”

But, true to form, Rhys couldn’t let the moment stay too serious for long. He leaned forward, the mischief returning to his eyes. “Still, if she starts bossing you around like Y/N bossed me, I reserve the right to laugh.”

Azriel smirked, leaning back in his chair. “She already does, Rhys. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure to remind her that her ‘Rhysie’ uncle is always available for tea parties.”

Rhys groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Why do I get the feeling that’s going to come back to haunt me?”

Azriel’s smirk widened as he leaned back, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Because it will.”

Cassian returned to the living room, his heavy footsteps signalling his arrival. In his hand was a folded piece of parchment sealed with the mark of a messenger. His expression, though not overtly grim, carried a weight that made both Rhysand and Azriel glance up immediately.

“Looks like we’ve got a situation,” Cassian said, holding up the letter. He handed it to Rhys, who broke the seal and quickly scanned the contents, his brows knitting together.

“What’s wrong?” Azriel asked, his posture straightening, shadows stirring slightly around him.

Rhys sighed as he folded the letter back up. “There’s trouble at one of the camps—an argument that’s spiralled out of control between a couple of the commanders. It’s threatening to disrupt training for the younglings, and the emissary is asking for our intervention before it escalates further.”

Cassian crossed his arms. “I would go, but I can’t leave Torran, Emrus, and Calen here without one of us. They’ve finally calmed down, and I don’t trust them not to burn this cabin to the ground if I’m gone.”

Rhys nodded, rubbing his temple as he considered the situation. Then his gaze shifted to Azriel. “Az, do you think you can handle this? I’d go myself, but I promised Feyre I’d keep an eye on Nyx this week, and you’re... well, you’re better suited for delicate diplomacy when it comes to these camps.”

Azriel hesitated, glancing over at the couch where Kaia was still curled up, sleeping peacefully. His brow furrowed as he weighed the request. “It depends on how long I’ll be gone. I don’t want her to feel unsettled without me here.”

Rhys leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “She’ll be fine, Az. We’ve got this. You know we’ll take good care of her—Kaia adores Cassian and me.”

Cassian grinned, thumbing toward himself. “She adores me more than you, Rhys. Don’t lie to the man.”

Azriel shot him a dry look before turning back to Rhys. “How bad is the situation? Will this just be a quick visit, or am I looking at days of negotiation?”

“According to the letter, it shouldn’t take more than a day or two to resolve,” Rhys said reassuringly. “You’d fly out tomorrow morning, handle the situation, and be back before Kaia even has time to miss you too much.”

Azriel still looked reluctant, his fingers tapping lightly against his thigh. His shadows curled protectively around him, their movement reflecting his unease.

“Az,” Cassian said, his voice softer now. “We’ll take care of her like she’s our own. You know that. And if anything happens—anything at all—you’ll be the first to know.”

Rhys nodded in agreement. “She’s in good hands, brother. Go sort out the camp mess and come back to her. She’ll be fine.”

Azriel exhaled deeply, his gaze softening as he looked at Kaia once more. After a long pause, he gave a small nod. “Alright. I’ll go. But if anything happens, I expect to know immediately.”

“Of course,” Rhys said, clapping a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Now, get some rest tonight. You’ll need it if you’re flying out first thing tomorrow.”

Azriel’s gaze lingered on Kaia as she slept peacefully on the couch, her tiny form curled into the blanket. He could feel the weight of his decision to leave, the protective instinct that surged through him, but he knew the task ahead was necessary. He stood slowly, intending to lift Kaia and carry her to her room for the night, his heart heavy with the thought of being away from her.

Just as he stepped forward, Rhysand’s voice broke the silence.

“Az,” Rhys said, his tone soft but firm. “Leave her. We’ll take care of her while you get some rest. You need to be at your best tomorrow.”

Cassian, who had been quietly observing from the doorway, added with a reassuring grin, “We’ve got this, Shadowsinger. Go sleep. Kaia’s in good hands with us.”

Azriel paused, his gaze flicking between his brothers. He opened his mouth to argue, but the fatigue he’d been pushing aside all day hit him like a wave. His shoulders slumped slightly as he realized they were right. He hadn’t slept much, and the journey tomorrow would require all of his focus.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice tinged with doubt. His gaze drifted back to Kaia, still wrapped in the warmth of the blanket, completely unaware of the growing distance between them.

Rhys stepped forward, giving his brother a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “We’re sure, Azriel. You can’t be at your best if you’re exhausted. Let us take over for tonight. You’ll be back before you know it.”

Cassian’s grin widened. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Kaia’s getting more comfortable with me than you these days.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed, and he turned his gaze back to his daughter. She was resting soundly, her breathing even and calm. It wasn’t easy to leave, but he knew the safety of the camp depended on him.

Finally, he gave a small nod, stepping back reluctantly. “Alright. But if she wakes up…”

“We’ll handle it, Az,” Rhys said firmly. “Go rest. You’ll be back before you even miss a beat.”

Azriel hesitated for a moment longer before turning toward the stairs. As he made his way to his room, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, his shadows curling protectively around him even though he trusted his brothers completely.

“I’ll be back before she knows I’m gone,” he murmured to himself, his heart heavy but determined.

Once Azriel disappeared up the stairs, Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a glance. The room was quiet now, save for the soft sound of Kaia’s breathing and the occasional crackle from the hearth. Cassian leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out and folding his arms behind his head, a thoughtful expression settling over his face.

“You know,” Cassian began, his voice low to avoid disturbing Kaia, “I never thought I’d see Azriel like this. Completely head over heels for that little one. It’s... different.”

Rhys chuckled softly, leaning against the edge of the table. “Different is an understatement. Did you see the way he was looking at her just now? Like she’s the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.”

Cassian smirked, shaking his head. “I don’t blame him. She’s adorable. And she’s got his eyes—those big, soulful eyes that just make you want to give her the world.” He paused, his tone turning teasing. “Not to mention, she’s got him wrapped around her little finger. Did you notice how he didn’t even argue when she demanded two bedtime stories last night?”

Rhys raised a brow, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Az? Not arguing? That’s a first. Kaia might be the only person who can command him without a single word of protest.”

Cassian laughed quietly, his broad shoulders shaking. “Honestly, it’s a little terrifying how much power she has over him. But it’s good for him, you know? Az needed something—or someone—to break through that wall of his. Kaia did that without even trying.”

Rhys nodded, his expression softening as he glanced at the sleeping toddler. “She’s brought out a side of him we never thought we’d see. A side even Y/N couldn’t fully reach. Don’t get me wrong, she’s his world, but Kaia... she’s something else entirely.”

Cassian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you think he worries too much about her, though? I mean, the way he hesitated about going to the camp tomorrow—it’s like he can’t bear to be apart from her, even for a day.”

Rhys sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Of course he worries. She’s his daughter, and she’s so small, so fragile compared to what we’ve dealt with with the boys. But that’s just Azriel. He’s always been the protector, the one who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Kaia’s just added to that weight.”

Cassian nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, but she’s also lightened it in a way. You can see it in his eyes—he’s happier now. More at peace. Even with everything going on, he’s... softer.”

Rhys smirked. “Softer, yes. But don’t tell him that. He might actually throw you out the window this time.”

Cassian chuckled, leaning back again. “Noted. Still, it’s good to see him like this. And if he’s trusting us with her tonight, it means he knows we’ll take care of her.” He tilted his head toward Kaia, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “She might be tiny, but she’s already got the Shadowsinger’s stubborn streak.”

Rhys laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, she’s definitely her father’s daughter. We’re in for it when she grows up, that’s for sure.”

They both fell silent for a moment, their gazes drifting to Kaia. Despite their teasing and banter, there was an unspoken understanding between them. Azriel’s devotion to his daughter was something they both respected deeply, and they’d do whatever it took to protect her in his absence.

Cassian broke the silence with a smirk. “So, what are the odds she’s awake in five minutes, asking for a snack?”

Rhys chuckled, glancing at the clock. “Oh, I’d say pretty high. Better get ready—Az will never let us hear the end of it if we mess this up.”

Cassian grinned. “Bring it on. I’ve faced worse than a grumpy toddler. I think.”

Rhysand let out a low, amused chuckle, his shoulders shaking as he leaned back against the table. His violet eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked over at Cassian, who was now trying—and failing—to untangle one of his sons’ cloaks from the back of a chair.

“Cass, you can barely keep your three in line,” Rhys teased, his grin widening. “And you think you’ll be fine with Kaia added to the mix? Let’s be honest, she’s smarter than all three of your boys combined—and probably smarter than you too.”

Cassian groaned, finally yanking the cloak free, only to find it ripped slightly at the seam. He held it up with a sheepish grin. “First of all, this was already torn. And second, I’ll have you know I’m an excellent multitasker. Handling three boys and one tiny shadowling is a piece of cake.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right. The same multitasking that led to Torran and Emrus turning the entire second floor into a battlefield last week? Or was it the time Calen painted your leathers because you ‘weren’t paying attention’?”

Cassian waved him off, though his cheeks tinted slightly. “Minor hiccups. Kids are kids, Rhys. They’re supposed to make a mess. Besides, Kaia’s an angel compared to my boys. How hard can it be?”

Rhys snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “An angel? Did you miss the part where she stole Azriel’s daggers last month and tried to hide them under the couch because she thought they were ‘shiny’? She’s not just an angel—she’s a sneaky little shadowling with more cunning than all of us combined.”

Cassian shrugged, unfazed. “She’s two, Rhys. How much trouble can she really cause?”

Rhys threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and echoing through the room. “Oh, Cass. Famous last words. Let’s just hope she doesn’t team up with Calen. I’m not sure the cabin—or you—would survive.”

Cassian smirked, tossing the ripped cloak onto the nearest chair. “If that happens, I’ll blame you. You’re the one who convinced Az to leave her with us, after all.”

Rhys grinned, his eyes sparkling with humor. “You’re on your own, brother. Just don’t come crying to me when Kaia outsmarts you and the boys band together to take over the cabin.”

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head as he glanced toward Kaia, still sleeping soundly. “She’ll be fine. I’ve got this.”

Rhys gave him a knowing look, his grin never faltering. “If by ‘got this’ you mean you’re about to be completely outmatched by a toddler, then yes, Cassian. You’ve definitely ‘got this.’”

Kaia stirred under the blanket, her tiny body shifting as she blinked her sleepy eyes open. Her dark lashes fluttered, and for a moment, she stayed still, her little face scrunching as if debating whether to wake fully. Then, with a soft yawn that revealed her tiny teeth, she wriggled out of the blanket, her dishevelled curls sticking up in every direction.

“Dada?” she murmured groggily, her voice soft and still thick with sleep.

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a glance, both freezing like guilty children caught in the act. Rhys crouched down to her level, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Hey, little shadowling,” Rhys greeted her softly. “Your dad went to get some rest. You’re stuck with us for now.”

Kaia blinked up at him, her tiny face thoughtful as if processing his words. Then she rubbed her eyes with her fists and let out another yawn.

“No Dada?” she asked, her tone slightly indignant now.

Cassian stepped forward with a grin, crouching beside Rhys. “Don’t worry, Kaia. We’re here to take care of you. You’ve got me, Uncle Cassy, and Uncle Rhysie. What more could you need?”

Kaia tilted her head, her sharp, Azriel-like eyes narrowing in clear suspicion. “Dada betta,” she mumbled, clutching the blanket to her chest as if it offered some sort of protection from these two uncles.

Rhys chuckled, his shoulders shaking as he glanced at Cassian. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

Kaia’s gaze flicked between them before she reached her tiny hands out toward Rhys, her bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout. “Up, Rhysie,” she demanded, her toddler voice firm despite her small size.

Rhys, unable to resist her, scooped her up into his arms, settling her on his hip. “Alright, shadowling. What’s the plan? Are we going to sit quietly, or are you going to join your cousins in their chaos sleeps?”

Kaia laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes half-lidded with sleepiness. “No chaos. No loud,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his shirt.

Cassian laughed loudly at that, earning a sharp look from Kaia. “Too loud!” she scolded, her tiny hand patting Rhys’s shoulder as if to emphasize her point.

“See?” Rhys teased, smirking at Cassian. “She’s already taking charge. I told you she’s the smartest one here.”

Kaia hummed sleepily, snuggling closer to Rhys. “Dada come back?” she asked quietly, her small hand fisting his shirt.

Rhys rubbed her back soothingly. “He’ll be back soon, Kaia. But for now, you’re stuck with us.”

Kaia didn’t respond, but the way her eyes drifted closed again suggested she wasn’t too upset about the arrangement—for now.

Rhys smiled softly as he looked down at Kaia, who was now dozing lightly on his shoulder, her tiny fingers still clutching his shirt. He brushed a stray curl from her forehead, his expression unusually tender.

“You know,” he said quietly, careful not to wake her, “I’ve always kind of wanted a daughter. There’s just something about them. They’re...different. Softer, maybe. Or maybe it’s because they can wrap you around their little fingers in a heartbeat.”

Cassian snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t let Feyre hear you say that. She’ll be dragging you to the Healer’s to reverse what she made you do.”

Rhys chuckled, glancing over at him with a smirk. “As if. Feyre would murder me before she let me suggest another kid. She barely handled Nyx as a toddler.”

Cassian barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Nesta wouldn’t even entertain the idea. The second Calen started running, she told me I was done. And not just done—snipped. She practically dragged me to the Healer’s herself.”

Rhys’s laughter deepened, his shoulders shaking. “At least Feyre pretended it was my idea. Said something about how ‘three Illyrian warriors in the house is enough for one lifetime.’”

Cassian shook his head, grinning. “Cowards. They couldn’t handle another one of us.”

Rhys grinned, his eyes flicking down to Kaia, who stirred slightly but remained asleep. “Not sure I blame them. One Nyx is plenty of trouble. But...I don’t know. Something about having a daughter feels different.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow, his grin teasing. “Starting to sound like you’re jealous of Azriel.”

Rhys smirked, but there was a warmth to it. “Maybe I am. Kaia’s going to be trouble when she grows up, though. She’s got that look in her eye—sharp and calculating, just like her dad. And with Az’s temper? She’ll be unstoppable.”

Cassian grinned, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. “Good thing she’s got us around to spoil her. If Az isn’t careful, I might just claim her as my fourth.”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. “Good luck convincing Nesta to let you bring her home. Kaia’s got enough sass to go around—she might just turn your whole house upside down.”

Cassian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his grin mischievous as he gestured toward Kaia, still nestled against Rhys’s shoulder. "You think Az and Y/N are going to have another one?"

Rhys raised an eyebrow, adjusting Kaia slightly to keep her comfortable. "You mean after this little shadowling? They might need a breather first. She’s only two."

Cassian smirked. "Sure, but you know how Az is. He’s obsessed with that kid. If Y/N even hinted at wanting another, he’d be on board in a heartbeat."

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. "True, but have you met my sister? She’s not exactly the most patient when it comes to sleepless nights. I think Kaia already takes up enough of her energy."

Cassian leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Yeah, but she’s got that soft spot for Az. All he’d have to do is give her one of those brooding, puppy-dog looks, and she’d be done for."

Rhys laughed, a deep, rich sound. "You’re probably right. Azriel could convince her of anything with that quiet persistence of his. And let’s be honest, Kaia’s adorable enough to make anyone consider giving her a sibling."

Cassian tilted his head, considering. "If they do have another, what do you think? Another girl or a boy this time?"

Rhys tapped his fingers on the armrest, his expression thoughtful. "Knowing Az, it wouldn’t matter. He’d adore them either way. Though...a little boy with Y/N’s temper? That would be entertaining to watch."

Cassian barked out a laugh. "Can you imagine? A mini-Azriel running around but with Y/N’s attitude? The kid would have the entire Night Court wrapped around their finger before they could even talk."

Rhys smirked, a glint of humor in his eyes. "Or Kaia would just boss them around like she already does with everyone else. Either way, they’d have their hands full."

Cassian stretched, his wings flexing behind him as he grinned. "I say we place bets. If they have another, how long before the new kid starts causing trouble? Kaia set the bar high—stealing Az’s daggers before her second birthday."

Rhys shook his head, laughing. "I’m not betting on my sister’s family planning. But if they do have another, I’m sure it’ll be chaos—and hilarious to watch from a safe distance."

Kaia stirred against Rhys’s shoulder, her tiny fists rubbing at her eyes as she let out a sleepy little whine. Her dark lashes fluttered open, and she blinked blearily at the room. For a moment, it seemed like she might settle back down, but then she wiggled, her small hands tugging at Rhys’s shirt.

“Rhysie,” she murmured, her voice soft but insistent.

Rhys glanced down at her, his expression fond. “What’s wrong, little shadowling? You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Kaia shook her head, her curls bouncing slightly. “No sweep. Wanna go ‘side,” she said, her toddler speech firm despite her grogginess.

Cassian snorted from across the room, trying to hide his laugh behind his hand. “She wants to go outside? At this hour? She’s got Az’s stubbornness, all right.”

Kaia turned her sharp gaze on Cassian, her little brow furrowing. “Not Cassy. Talkin’ to Rhysie,” she declared, her tone almost scolding.

Rhys bit back a laugh as he shifted her in his arms. “Outside? It’s night-time, Kaia. There’s snow everywhere. It’s cold.”

Kaia nodded enthusiastically, her little hands patting his chest. “Snow! Wanna pway in snow!”

Cassian leaned forward, his grin wide. “She’s persistent. What do you say, Rhys? Midnight snowball fight?”

Rhys shook his head, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m not letting her freeze out there. Azriel would kill me.”

Kaia’s lip wobbled at his refusal, her big, teary eyes locking onto Rhys’s face. “Pwease, Rhysie? Wanna pway,” she said, her voice trembling just enough to tug at his heart.

Cassian leaned back with a laugh. “Good luck saying no to that. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Rhys sighed dramatically, pretending to be defeated. “Kaia, it’s cold and dark. But how about this? If you go back to sleep now, I’ll take you out to play first thing in the morning. Deal?”

Kaia considered this, her little face scrunching in thought. “Pwomise?”

Rhys nodded, holding up a hand. “I promise. First thing in the morning, snowball fights and snow angels.”

Kaia finally seemed satisfied, snuggling back against his shoulder. “Okay...but Rhysie better not forget.”

Cassian shook his head, chuckling softly. “She’s got you, brother. Good luck living up to that promise.”

Rhys smirked, patting Kaia’s back as she drifted off again. “Just wait until morning. We’ll see who wins the snowball fight.”

Kaia shifted in Rhys’s arms, her little body restless as she tried to find a comfortable spot. She let out a soft sigh, her dark lashes fluttering as she attempted to settle.

But after a few moments, she squirmed again, her tiny fists rubbing at her eyes. “Can’t sweep,” she mumbled, her voice quiet but full of frustration.

Rhys looked down at her, his brows raising in amusement. “Can’t sleep, huh?”

Kaia shook her head, her curls brushing against his chest. “No sweep. Eyes no close,” she explained, her toddler logic making perfect sense to her.

Cassian chuckled from across the room, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. “She’s too stubborn, just like her dad. She’s going to wear you out, Rhys.”

Kaia shot him a glare, her little nose scrunching. “No stubborn. Wanna pway!”

Rhys smirked, adjusting her in his arms. “You know, Kaia, it’s very late. Even the snow is sleeping.”

Kaia’s eyes widened, and she tilted her head at him. “Snow sweep?”

Cassian nearly choked on his laughter, turning away to compose himself.

Rhys nodded solemnly, fighting back his own grin. “Oh, yes. Snowflakes need rest too. They work hard falling all day.”

Kaia seemed to ponder this for a moment, her tiny fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt. “But...but I no tire,” she finally said, her voice a little quieter now, as if trying to convince herself.

Rhys pressed a kiss to her curls, his tone soothing. “How about we try, just for a little bit? Close your eyes, and if you’re still not sleepy after a while, we’ll think of something else. Deal?”

Kaia hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Deal...but no sweep yet.”

Rhys cradled her a little closer, gently rocking her in his arms. “We’ll see, little shadowling. We’ll see.”

Cassian leaned back in his chair, grinning. “I’m betting she lasts five more minutes before she’s out again.”

Kaia’s eyes narrowed at him, her little voice firm. “No sweep!”

Both males laughed softly as Kaia huffed, snuggling closer to Rhys but still determined to stay awake.

Rhys sighed, bouncing Kaia lightly as she continued to fidget. “All right, little shadowling, since you can’t sleep with me, let’s see if Cassian’s big, loud arms can tire you out.”

Kaia blinked up at him, her dark eyes narrowing. “No Cassy,” she protested, her tiny hands clutching at his shirt.

Cassian, sitting sprawled in a chair nearby, grinned and opened his arms dramatically. “Come on, Kaia. Uncle Cassy’s warm and cozy. I promise not to be too loud.”

Kaia turned her head to glare at him. “You too noisy. No want Cassy!”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. “Too noisy, huh? Well, maybe you’ll make him quiet down for once.”

Ignoring her protests, he carefully shifted her over to Cassian. Kaia squirmed, her wings fluttering weakly as she pouted. “Rhysieee,” she whined, reaching back for him as Cassian scooped her up with ease.

Cassian held her snugly against his chest, feigning offense. “Hey, I’m fun! You just don’t know it yet.”

Kaia huffed, crossing her little arms and burying her face against his shoulder. “No Cassy. Want Rhysie.”

Rhys smirked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “You’ve got her wrapped around your finger, Cass. Let’s see if you can keep her entertained.”

Cassian grinned down at the stubborn toddler. “All right, Kaia, how about this? If you stay with me for five minutes and still want Rhys, I’ll hand you right back. Deal?”

Kaia peeked up at him suspiciously, her brow furrowed. “Pwomise?”

Cassian held up his hand solemnly. “I promise. But I’m pretty sure I can win you over before then.”

Kaia didn’t look convinced, but she let out a resigned sigh, settling against him begrudgingly. “Okay...no loud,” she warned, poking his chest with her tiny finger.

Rhys laughed softly, shaking his head. “Good luck, Cassian. She’s tougher to win over than the Illyrians at camp.”

Cassian smirked as he began rocking her gently. “Oh, please. I’ve got this. By the end of the night, she’ll be asking for Cassy instead of Rhysie.”

Kaia made a disbelieving noise, muffled against his shirt, and both males chuckled, the sound filling the room as she began to relax slightly in Cassian’s arms.

As Kaia settled reluctantly against Cassian’s broad chest, her little fingers fidgeted against his shirt. She let out a soft huff, still pouting about being handed over.

Cassian, ever the charmer, gave her a grin. “What’s the matter, Kaia? I’m way comfier than Rhysie. Don’t you think?”

Kaia looked up at him, her dark brows knitting together in toddler indignation. “No.”

Cassian laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Tough crowd. All right, what can Uncle Cassy do to make you smile?”

Instead of answering, Kaia raised her small hand and grabbed a lock of his dark hair, giving it a gentle tug.

“Hey!” Cassian exclaimed, his grin widening as he leaned back slightly. “What’s that for, little shadow?”

Kaia’s lips twitched, as if she was trying not to smile. “Hair funny,” she mumbled, giving it another playful tug.

Rhys, watching from his spot against the wall, smirked. “Looks like she’s testing your patience, Cass. Maybe she thinks you need a new hairstyle.”

Cassian glanced at Rhys, feigning offense. “Oh, please. My hair is flawless, thank you very much.”

Kaia, clearly unimpressed, tugged again, this time letting out a tiny giggle. “No. Funny.”

Cassian chuckled, reaching up to gently take her hand. “All right, little troublemaker. Let’s keep the hair-pulling to a minimum, huh? Uncle Cassy’s hair isn’t as strong as daddy’s.”

Kaia tilted her head, considering this, before giving a final, cheeky tug. “Cassy hair no strong!”

Both males burst into laughter at her declaration, and even Kaia let out a small giggle, finally relaxing in Cassian’s arms.

As Kaia snuggled deeper into Cassian’s arms, her little body began to stiffen, her face scrunching in a way that suggested something was bothering her. Her small fingers, which had been fidgeting with his shirt, slowed to a halt, and she let out a soft whimper.

Cassian paused, looking down at her with a raised brow. “What’s wrong now, little shadow?”

Kaia’s lip trembled slightly, her eyes filling with an unspoken sadness. “Want mama,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper, but it was clear as day to Cassian.

Cassian’s heart softened, and he gently ran a hand over her dark curls. “You miss her already, huh?” he asked, his voice gentle, though his teasing nature faded as he saw the way her little face crumpled.

Kaia nodded, the whimper turning into a small sob. “Mama...” she repeated, sniffling.

Rhys, still leaning against the wall, watched the scene with an understanding look. He stepped forward, his tone quiet as he addressed Kaia’s distress. “She’s not far, little shadow,” he said softly. “She’s probably just taking a break with Aunt Feyre and Nesta. We’ll bring her to you in just a week.”

But Kaia’s tears continued to spill, her small voice rising in sadness. “Want mama now...”

Cassian exchanged a look with Rhys, and though he was used to being the loud and boisterous one, he softened as he held Kaia closer. “You’ll see her soon, I promise,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “She’ll be right back here, snuggling you, okay?”

Kaia hiccupped, her tiny body still trembling in his arms. “Want mama,” she repeated, more urgently this time, her little face pressing against his chest in an attempt to calm herself.

Rhys sighed quietly, shaking his head with a small smile. “She’s just like Azriel—stubborn to the core. You better get used to it, Cass. It’s gonna be a long night.”

Cassian shot Rhys a mock glare, but there was a softness in his eyes as he rocked Kaia gently. “Yeah, I’ve got this. Go get Azriel, will you?”

Rhys nodded and disappeared from the room, leaving Cassian with Kaia as she continued to whimper softly, still missing her mother.

Rhys carefully stepped into Azriel’s room, the shadows creeping along the walls as they adjusted to the dim light. Azriel was sprawled out in bed, a faint snore escaping from his lips as he slept, his wings tucked neatly around him. Rhys hesitated for a moment, then, with a wry smile, he knelt down beside the bed and shook Azriel's shoulder gently.

“Az, wake up,” Rhys said quietly, but firmly.

Azriel let out a gruff sound, his eyes flickering open and narrowing as he adjusted to the light. He blinked a few times, clearly not yet fully awake. “What’s going on?” he murmured, rubbing at his face with one hand as he yawned.

Rhys chuckled softly, folding his arms across his chest. “Kaia’s upset. She’s asking for you.”

Azriel’s expression softened instantly at the mention of his daughter. He sat up quickly, his tiredness forgotten. “Is she okay?” he asked, his voice thick with concern.

“She’s missing her mom. I think she needs you.” Rhys stood and gave him a small, knowing smile. “Come on, I’ll take you to her.”

Azriel nodded, running a hand through his messy hair as he rose from the bed. He was still in his sleep clothes—dark pants and a loose shirt—moving with a sense of urgency as he followed Rhys out of the room. His wings shifted restlessly behind him as if they too could feel his concern for Kaia.

They made their way down the hallway, the soft sound of their footsteps echoing in the quiet cabin. As they entered the living room, the soft whimpering from Kaia could be heard faintly.

Cassian was still holding her, but Kaia’s distress hadn’t settled. She was curled up against his chest, her face buried in his shoulder, and every few seconds, another whimper would escape her. Her small body was trembling slightly, the sadness evident in her posture.

Azriel’s heart clenched as he saw his daughter’s misery. He hurried over to Cassian, in front of him. “Kaia,” he said softly, brushing a few strands of her dark hair from her face.

At the sound of her father’s voice, Kaia’s eyes fluttered open, and her little face twisted with frustration. She reached out with one small hand, her voice shaking. “Dada…” she whimpered, her arms reaching toward him.

Azriel’s chest tightened as he gathered her into his arms, her tiny body pressing against his as he held her close. “I’m here, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Kaia sniffled, still not fully comforted, but her sobs began to subside as she snuggled against her father. She shifted in his arms, her tiny hands clutching his shirt tightly. “Want mama,” she said, her voice soft and broken.

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment, his heart aching for his daughter. He held her tightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I know, baby,” he whispered. “But mama’s resting right now. You’re safe with me, I promise.”

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a quiet glance, knowing how much Azriel’s presence would help calm Kaia. Rhys stepped back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “She’ll be asleep in no time now,” he said.

Cassian nodded, though his usual mischievous grin was gone. “You’re the only one who can calm her when she’s like this.”

Azriel didn’t say anything at first, his full attention on Kaia as she snuggled closer to him. He gently rocked her, murmuring reassurances as she finally relaxed in his arms. He glanced up at his friends, his voice quiet but steady. “Thanks, both of you. I owe you one.”

Rhys chuckled softly. “No need for that. Just make sure she doesn’t give us any more trouble tonight.”

Azriel smiled faintly, his attention back on Kaia as her breathing slowly evened out. “I’ll try my best,” he said quietly, knowing full well that with his daughter in his arms, everything would be fine.

As Kaia’s breathing evened out in Azriel’s arms, Cassian and Rhys exchanged a glance. There was something so natural about the way Azriel cared for his daughter, the quiet tenderness that softened his usual stoic demeanour. It was a side of him they rarely saw, and it prompted Cassian to speak.

“You’re a damn good father, you know that?” Cassian said, his voice low so as not to wake Kaia.

Azriel glanced up from where he was rocking his daughter, his shadows curling faintly around her like a protective cocoon. “I’m just doing what she needs,” he replied quietly.

Rhys leaned against the doorframe, a thoughtful look on his face. “Have you ever thought about having another?” he asked casually, though there was genuine curiosity in his tone.

Azriel’s hands stilled for a moment as he adjusted Kaia’s blanket. He looked down at his sleeping daughter, his expression unreadable. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted after a moment, his voice soft. “But… it’s not that simple.”

Cassian frowned slightly, leaning forward. “What do you mean? You and Y/N are incredible parents. I can’t imagine anyone better to handle another little shadow like her.”

Azriel let out a quiet sigh, his wings shifting restlessly behind him. “Kaia’s birth wasn’t easy,” he began, his voice tight. “She came three months early. Y/N was… in bad shape. The healers weren’t sure if either of them would make it.”

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a grim look, the memory of those tense weeks flashing through their minds. Azriel had been a shadow of himself during that time—distraught, restless, and consumed by worry.

“I’ve never been so scared,” Azriel continued, his gaze distant as he gently stroked Kaia’s hair. “Holding her for the first time… it was the best and the worst moment of my life. I was terrified of losing her. Of losing Y/N.”

Rhys stepped closer, his tone softer now. “We remember,” he said. “You were in hell during those weeks. But look at her now, Az. She’s strong, just like her mother.”

Azriel smiled faintly, his fingers still brushing over Kaia’s curls. “I know. She’s my everything. But I don’t know if I could put Y/N through that again. The risk…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

Cassian placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, his voice steady. “It’s your decision, Az. No one can tell you what’s right for your family. But I can tell you this—whatever you and Y/N decide, you’ve got us. Always.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze softening as he looked back down at Kaia. “Thank you. I just… I want to give her everything. And I know Y/N would love another child. She’s mentioned it before.”

Rhys smiled knowingly. “She has. I’ve heard her tell Feyre how much she’d love to give Kaia a little brother or sister. But you’re right to consider the risks. It’s a decision you both need to make together.”

Azriel’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if speaking his thoughts aloud for the first time. “Sometimes, I wonder if we’re meant to have just Kaia. She’s more than enough.” He paused, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “But then I think about what it would be like to hold another baby. To see Kaia as an older sister.”

Cassian grinned. “You’d kill it, Az. You’ve already proven that.”

Azriel’s smile grew as he looked down at Kaia, her tiny form peaceful in his arms. “Maybe,” he said softly. “Maybe one day. But for now, she’s everything I need.”

Rhys and Cassian nodded, their respect for their brother deepened by his unwavering devotion to his family. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the soft crackle of the fire the only sound, as Azriel held Kaia close, his love for her evident in every gentle movement.

-----

The bright sun filtered through the luxurious curtains of your room in the Day Court, casting golden streaks across the bed where you, Feyre, and Nesta lay tangled in a mess of pillows, blankets, and regret. The faint hum of distant birds outside did little to soothe the pounding in your head. You groaned as the sound of the door creaking open sent a sharp pulse through your temples.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Helion’s smooth, amused voice filled the room. “Or should I say, good evening? It’s already past two in the afternoon.”

A collective groan rose from the bed as Feyre buried her head under a pillow, Nesta flopped onto her stomach with a muffled curse, and you blinked blearily at Helion, who stood at the door with a smug grin and an air of smug satisfaction.

“Helion,” you croaked, your voice scratchy from the night before. “Why are you so loud?”

“Loud?” Helion placed a hand over his chest as if wounded. “I’m being positively gentle for a man who had to endure your drunken antics last night.”

Nesta peeked out from under her arm, her hair a disheveled halo around her head. “What antics?” she grumbled.

“Oh, you don’t remember?” Helion leaned casually against the doorframe, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Let’s see… there was dancing on the tables, a rather heated debate about who had the best wingspan in Prythian—”

“Stop,” Feyre mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“And, of course,” Helion continued, ignoring her, “the grand declaration from you, Y/N, that you could outdrink me any day of the week.”

You winced, rubbing your temples as fragmented memories of the previous night began to resurface. “Did I win?”

Helion chuckled. “Let’s just say the three of you are lucky you’re still alive after the amount of wine you consumed.”

Nesta groaned, reaching blindly for the glass of water on the nightstand. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“Of course I am,” Helion said, stepping fully into the room and crossing his arms. “It’s not every day I get to see the great Night Court ladies reduced to this state.”

“Why are you even here?” Feyre muttered, finally sitting up and squinting at him.

“To wake you,” Helion replied with a theatrical flourish. “You’ve slept the entire day away, and there’s an entire court waiting to be graced by your hungover presence.”

You flopped back onto the pillows, groaning. “I don’t think I can move.”

“Nor should you,” Helion said, his grin softening into something almost kind. “You had your fun, and now you’ll suffer for it. But, if it’s any consolation, I’ll have food sent up to help with the hangover. Consider it my charity for the day.”

Nesta muttered a quiet thanks as Feyre reached over to squeeze your hand. “We’re never drinking that much again,” she said firmly.

“You say that now,” Helion said with a smirk, already heading for the door. “But give it a week.”

As the door closed behind him, the three of you exchanged weary looks before collapsing back onto the bed, the promise of food and a quiet afternoon the only solace for your throbbing heads.

You groaned as you rubbed your temples, the pounding in your head relentless. “I miss being in my hundreds,” you muttered, your voice hoarse. “I could drink like this and wake up feeling fine. What happened to that?”

Feyre snorted, even though she winced at the sound of her own laugh. She was propped up against a mountain of pillows, her hair sticking up in every direction. “I don’t know if that’s age or just poor choices. And I hate that I can’t remember which.”

Nesta rolled over onto her back, staring at the ornate ceiling of the room. “What exactly did we even do last night? Helion mentioned dancing on tables, but I don’t remember that.”

“Neither do I,” Feyre admitted, frowning. “Though I do have a vague memory of someone challenging someone else to a drinking contest.”

“That sounds like me,” you groaned, burying your face in a pillow. “Why do I always do this? Every time I think, ‘Oh, I can keep up with Helion,’ and every time, I end up half-dead the next day.”

Nesta laughed softly, but it turned into a hiss of pain as she clutched her forehead. “Do you think he was exaggerating? Dancing on tables feels a bit dramatic.”

Feyre grimaced. “Honestly? Knowing us, probably not.”

You sat up slowly, squinting as the light streaming through the window hit you directly in the face. “What do we even do from here? How do we recover from whatever disaster last night was?”

Feyre shrugged weakly, resting her head on her hand. “Step one: figure out what we drank. Step two: never drink it again. Step three: try to piece together the chaos.”

Nesta sighed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. “I’m not sure I want to know. If Helion’s smirk was any indication, we embarrassed ourselves.”

“Embarrassing myself in front of Helion isn’t even my biggest concern,” you muttered. “What if we made promises? Or said something incriminating? I don’t remember anything after, what, the third bottle of wine?”

Feyre groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. “I don’t remember anything past sitting in that sunroom. Did we even make it back to our rooms on our own?”

“Barely,” Nesta replied, shielding her eyes with her hand. “I vaguely remember Helion carrying someone. Was it you, Feyre?”

Feyre made a face. “Don’t remind me. I think he was laughing the whole time.”

You shook your head slowly, trying to push through the fog in your brain. “We need answers. But first, we need food. And maybe another century of sleep.”

Nesta smirked faintly, even through her hangover. “Agreed. But let’s make a pact: if Helion ever offers us another bottle of wine, we refuse.”

“Deal,” Feyre and you said in unison, though all three of you knew it was a promise unlikely to be kept.

You flopped back against the plush pillows, pulling a blanket over your face to block out the daylight streaming through the curtains. “Do you think they’re still alive?” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the fabric.

Nesta let out a low chuckle, though it was tinged with exhaustion. She adjusted her position, settling deeper into the bed. “Depends. How long do you think it took for the chaos to start?”

“Five minutes,” Feyre guessed, her eyes already fluttering closed again. “Nyx probably started something with Cassian’s boys, and Kaia probably got into something she shouldn’t.”

You groaned softly, turning your head to the side. “Poor Az. He was probably up all night. Kaia doesn’t sleep well when everyone is not home.”

Nesta hummed in agreement. “If anyone can handle it, it’s him. Though Rhys and Cassian… I’m not so sure. The three of them together with the kids is a recipe for disaster.”

“Disaster,” Feyre murmured sleepily. “It’s probably already happening. But honestly? Not our problem right now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, though the sound came out weak and tired. “They’ve got it covered. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.”

“Even if they don’t,” Nesta added, her voice already fading, “we earned this.”

The three of you sank deeper into the comfort of the bed, the soft hum of the Day Court’s tranquillity lulling you back to sleep. Whatever chaos might have been unfolding back at the Velaris could wait. For now, the thought of dealing with anything beyond your pounding heads was impossible.

-----

The next morning at the cabin, a thin blanket of snow coated the ground, shimmering in the sunlight. The boys had already left for camp, their excited chatter and stomping boots long gone, leaving a peaceful quiet in their wake. Outside, Rhys and Cassian stood with Azriel near the edge of the clearing, their breath visible in the crisp air as they discussed his upcoming trip to the Illyrian camp.

Kaia played nearby, bundled up in a tiny fur-lined coat, her small wings peeking out from the back. Her boots crunched in the snow as she toddled around, scooping up handfuls of powder and tossing them into the air with delighted giggles.

Azriel kept glancing toward her, his shadows hovering protectively nearby. His jaw was tight, his eyes flickering with hesitation. “I don’t like leaving her,” he said, his voice low.

“She’s going to be fine,” Rhys reassured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve got this. She adores us.”

Cassian grinned. “She’s got me to entertain her. What more could she need?”

Azriel shot him a flat look. “If she so much as cries, you’ll regret it.”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. “You worry too much. Go handle the camp situation, and we’ll make sure Kaia is happy and safe. Promise.”

Azriel let out a reluctant sigh, his gaze drifting back to Kaia. She had plopped down in the snow, her tiny hands patting together an uneven mound that was supposed to be a snowman. As if sensing her father’s attention, she looked up, her bright hazel eyes—so much like his—lighting up.

“Dada!” she squealed, scrambling to her feet. Her wings flared slightly as she ran toward him, stumbling a little in the snow but determined to reach him.

Azriel crouched down just in time to catch her as she barreled into him, her tiny arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “What is it, love?” he asked softly, holding her close.

“No go, Dada!” she said, her voice muffled against his coat. “Stay wif me.”

Azriel’s heart clenched as he pulled back to look at her. “I’ll be back soon, Kaia. Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cassian will take care of you while I’m gone.”

Kaia’s lower lip stuck out in a pout. “No like it,” she mumbled, her little hands clutching his shoulders.

Rhys stepped closer, crouching down beside them. “Kaia, sweetheart, we’re going to have so much fun. You’ll see.”

Kaia turned her head to glare at him, her pout deepening. “No fun wif you. Too bossy.”

Cassian barked a laugh, earning a glare from Azriel. “She’s got you figured out already, Rhys.”

Azriel kissed the top of Kaia’s head, his lips lingering against her soft hair. “I’ll miss you too, my star,” he murmured. “But I’ll be back before you know it.”

Kaia sniffled, her small hands framing his face as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Miss you, Dada.”

He hugged her tightly one last time before standing, reluctantly placing her back on the ground. Kaia tugged on his coat, her hazel eyes wide with emotion. “Dada, hug ‘gain?”

Azriel smiled softly and knelt again, wrapping her in his arms for one more hug. “Always, Kaia,” he whispered.

Rhys finally stepped in, scooping Kaia up into his arms to distract her. “Come on, little star. Let’s go make some hot chocolate while Dada gets ready.”

Kaia clung to Rhys, watching over his shoulder as Azriel straightened and adjusted his coat. Her small hand waved frantically. “Bye, Dada! Wove you!”

“Love you too, Kaia,” Azriel called back, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest.

As he turned to leave, his shadows trailed after him, but his thoughts lingered on the tiny, determined girl who had stolen his heart.

As Azriel disappeared into the tree line, Kaia’s hazel eyes stayed glued to where he had been, her little face pouting in concentration. She wriggled in Rhysand’s arms, tugging at his collar.

“Uncle Rhysie,” she said, her toddler voice firm, “go lake now?”

Rhys glanced at Cassian, eyebrows raised. “The lake? Kaia, it’s cold out here. Don’t you want to go inside for some hot chocolate?”

Kaia shook her head vehemently, her curls bouncing around her face. “No choc’late. Lake!” She stretched her arms out dramatically, pointing toward the path that led to the frozen lake just beyond the cabin. “Pwease, Uncle Rhysie!”

Cassian chuckled as he leaned against the cabin’s railing, arms crossed. “She’s got her mind made up. You’re not winning this one.”

Kaia turned her big eyes on him. “Uncle Cassy, pwease? Wanna see da water.”

Cassian laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You mean the ice, kiddo. That lake’s frozen solid.”

Kaia tilted her head, her lips pursing in thought. “Ice pretty!”

Rhysand sighed dramatically, bouncing her slightly in his arms. “Fine. But we’re just looking, Kaia. No running, no touching the ice, and absolutely no going out on it. Got it?”

“Got it!” she chirped, her wings fluttering with excitement.

Cassian shook his head, amused. “You’re going to regret giving in, Rhys.”

Rhys shot him a playful glare. “If you’re so sure, you’re welcome to come supervise.”

Kaia clapped her hands, thrilled. “Uncle Cassy come too!”

Cassian groaned but grabbed his coat. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before you sweet-talk us into something even worse.”

Kaia giggled, wiggling out of Rhysand’s hold as soon as they reached the snow-covered path. She toddled ahead, her tiny boots crunching in the snow, her wings flaring for balance as she followed the trail to the lake.

Rhys jogged to keep up with her, shaking his head with a smile. “Kaia, you’ve got us wrapped around your little finger.”

She looked back at him, grinning cheekily. “Like Dada!”

Cassian laughed loudly, following behind them. “She’s not wrong!”

The three of them soon reached the lake, its surface gleaming with a layer of frost and ice. Kaia’s eyes widened in awe as she clapped her hands together. “So pwetty!”

Rhys and Cassian stood nearby, watching her as she crouched to inspect the snow around the edge, her little fingers brushing against it.

“She’s too much like Azriel,” Cassian muttered, smirking.

Rhys nodded, his expression soft. “She’s going to be a force to reckon with one day.”

Kaia looked up at them with a beaming smile, completely unaware of the pride and affection shining in their eyes.

Kaia’s hazel eyes lit up as a small brown rabbit darted across the snowy clearing near the edge of the lake. She gasped, her wings fluttering with excitement. “Bunny! Bunny!” she squealed, pointing at the little creature as it paused to twitch its nose.

Rhys chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched her. “Looks like she found a friend.”

Kaia crouched low, mimicking the rabbit’s position. Then, with a delighted giggle, she began hopping up and down in the snow, her boots barely leaving the ground. “Hop, hop, hop! Wike bunny!”

Cassian leaned against a nearby tree, laughing as Kaia’s curls bounced with each jump. “She’s got the hopping down, but she’s a little noisier than that rabbit.”

“Bunny hop!” Kaia shouted, flapping her tiny wings as she hopped again. Her balance wavered, and she landed on her bottom in the snow, but she quickly scrambled back up, undeterred. “Hop ‘gain!”

Rhys rubbed a hand over his face, trying to hide his grin. “You’re going to tire yourself out before lunch, Kaia.”

Kaia spun around to face him, shaking her head so vigorously her curls flopped side to side. “No tire! Hop more!” She crouched again, springing up with an exaggerated bounce. “Hop, hop, hop!”

The rabbit twitched its ears and scurried further away, disappearing into the trees. Kaia stopped, staring after it. “Bunny gone…” She pouted, her big hazel eyes turning to Rhys and Cassian.

Rhys crouched down, holding out his arms. “Come here, Kaia. The bunny went home, but you’re still our little hopper.”

Kaia toddled over to him, giggling as he scooped her up. She pressed her cold little nose to his cheek. “Rhysie hop too?”

Cassian snorted. “Oh, I’d pay good money to see that.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow at him, then looked back at Kaia. “How about Uncle Cassian hops instead?”

Kaia’s face lit up as she turned to Cassian, clapping her hands. “Uncle Cassy hop! Pwease!”

Cassian groaned, shaking his head. “You two are troublemakers.” But he pushed off the tree and gave a dramatic hop in place, earning a squeal of delight from Kaia.

“‘Gain! ‘Gain!” she cheered, bouncing in Rhys’s arms.

Cassian sighed, hopping a few more times before throwing his hands up. “That’s all you’re getting, little miss.”

Kaia giggled, leaning against Rhys’s shoulder with a content sigh. “Bunny hops fun…” she murmured, her energy finally waning as the excitement wore off.

Kaia squirmed in Rhysand’s arms, her wings flapping slightly as she pushed against his chest. “Down, Rhysie! Down!” she demanded, her tiny voice insistent.

Rhys tilted his head, giving her a mock-serious look. “You’re going to run off as soon as I put you down, aren’t you?”

Kaia giggled mischievously, avoiding his gaze. “Noooo…” she dragged out, not sounding convincing at all.

Cassian smirked, crossing his arms. “She’s got that look. You know the one Azriel has when he’s about to disappear into the shadows?”

Rhys sighed, setting her down gently on the snowy ground. “Alright, go ahead. But stay close, Kaia.”

As soon as her boots touched the snow, Kaia took off in a full toddler sprint, her little legs pumping furiously and her wings flapping for extra speed. She let out a triumphant squeal, her curls bouncing wildly as she bolted toward the edge of the clearing.

“Kaia!” Rhys called after her, already starting to jog.

Cassian burst into laughter, watching her waddle-run like her life depended on it. “She’s quick for someone so tiny!”

“Quick and reckless,” Rhys muttered, though his tone was full of amusement.

Kaia didn’t respond, too focused on her self-declared adventure. She ran in zigzags, her little boots crunching the snow as she tried to follow the faint tracks left by the rabbit from earlier.

Rhys finally caught up, scooping her up mid-run. She let out an indignant squeak, wriggling like a fish out of water. “No! Wanna run, Rhysie!”

Cassian joined them, laughing as he ruffled her curls. “That wasn’t running, Kaia. That was flying with your feet!”

Kaia pouted, folding her arms as Rhys settled her back against his chest. “Wanna fly…”

Cassian chuckled. “You’ll fly plenty when you’re older. For now, let’s stick to running in safe places, alright?”

Kaia sighed dramatically, her little shoulders slumping. “Okay… but next time, I win.”

Rhys exchanged a look with Cassian, both stifling their laughter at her determination.

Kaia began to wiggle in Rhysand’s arms, her tiny wings twitching as she pushed against his chest with her small hands. “Rhysie…” she whined softly, her voice carrying the unmistakable tone of a toddler who had been confined for too long.

Rhys adjusted his hold, pressing her back to him more securely. “Kaia, I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not happening,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

Kaia squirmed harder, her little feet kicking lightly against his sides. “Nooo! Down, pwease!” she pleaded, her hazel eyes glinting with frustration. She twisted, trying to look up at him with her best pout, her bottom lip sticking out dramatically.

Rhys sighed, shaking his head. “That look might work on Azriel, but not on me, little one.”

Cassian, walking a few steps ahead, turned around with a grin. “You’re fighting a losing battle, Rhys. She’s persistent—Azriel’s kid through and through.”

Kaia’s wings flapped again, and she leaned as far as she could to one side, trying to force Rhys’s grip to loosen. “No fair! Wanna down!” she declared, wriggling like a fish.

Rhys adjusted her again, tightening his hold slightly so she couldn’t slip away. “Kaia,” he said patiently, “the last time I let you down, you sprinted off like a wild rabbit. Do you think I’m going to fall for that again?”

Kaia’s brows furrowed as she huffed, blowing a small puff of air through her lips. “Pwease…” she tried again, softening her voice. When Rhys didn’t budge, she flopped her head dramatically against his chest. “Rhysie mean…” she mumbled, her voice muffled by his shirt.

Cassian laughed outright, shaking his head. “She’s got you pegged. Rhys, you’re officially ‘mean.’”

Rhys raised an eyebrow at Cassian, smirking. “I can live with being mean if it means she’s safe. Nice try, though, Kaia.”

Kaia let out a long, exaggerated sigh, her little hands gripping Rhys’s shirt tightly. “Fine,” she muttered, though she squirmed once more for good measure before finally going limp in his arms, clearly realizing she wasn’t going to win this round.

Rhys kissed the top of her curly head, his amusement evident. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

Kaia grumbled softly under her breath, her head resting against him as she gave in to the temporary defeat, though the glint in her eyes promised she wasn’t done trying.

As the crisp winter breeze started to pick up, Cassian pulled his coat tighter around himself and glanced at Rhys, who was still holding a now-quiet but visibly restless Kaia. The snowflakes had begun to swirl in the air, carried by the increasingly sharp gusts of wind.

Rhys shifted Kaia in his arms, noticing how her small wings trembled slightly in the cold despite her thick coat and scarf. “The wind’s picking up,” he said, his tone laced with concern. “It’s probably time to head back. I don’t want her wings getting stiff or chilled.”

Cassian nodded in agreement, brushing snow off his shoulders. “Yeah, the cold up here isn’t great for her. Little Illyrians aren’t built for this until they’re older.” He glanced at Kaia, who was now nibbling on her mitten-covered fingers. “She’s a tough one, though. Already lasted longer than I expected.”

Rhys looked down at Kaia, her curly hair peeking out from beneath her hat. “What do you think, Kaia? Ready to go back to the warm cabin?”

Kaia scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “Nooo! Wanna pway!” she declared, her voice muffled slightly by her mittened hands.

Cassian chuckled, crouching slightly to her eye level. “Kiddo, as fun as it is out here, that wind’s going to get too strong for your wings. We’ll come back out tomorrow, okay?”

Kaia’s pout deepened, and she turned her head to bury her face against Rhys’s chest. “No wind! Stay!” she mumbled stubbornly.

Rhys sighed, his expression softening. “I know you don’t want to leave, but we have to think about keeping you safe, little one. I promise we’ll come back out when it’s warmer.”

Kaia peeked up at him, her hazel eyes filled with a mix of defiance and understanding. “Pwomise?”

“Promise,” Rhys replied firmly, brushing a stray curl from her face.

Cassian straightened up and stretched. “Alright, let’s get moving before the storm decides to really hit. I’m not looking forward to carrying a cranky Calen back from the camp if it comes to that.”

Kaia let out a small, resigned sigh, her wings drooping slightly as she gave in. “Okay…” she said softly, snuggling closer into Rhys for warmth.

As they turned to head back to the cabin, the wind picked up again, blowing snow around their boots. Rhys held Kaia securely, shielding her as much as possible from the chill. Cassian walked ahead, breaking the path through the snow, his laughter occasionally ringing out as he teased Rhys about his “clingy sidekick.”

By the time they reached the cabin, Kaia’s earlier stubbornness had melted into quiet contentment, her small body relaxed against Rhys. Once inside, the warmth of the fire greeted them, and Rhys carefully set Kaia down, helping her out of her snow-dusted coat.

“There we go,” Rhys said gently, crouching down to her level. “Safe and warm. What do you say we find something cozy to do inside?”

Kaia nodded, her earlier disappointment forgotten as she toddled toward the couch, where her favourite stuffed animal awaited. “Pway inside!” she declared, her wings giving a small, happy flutter.

Cassian grinned from the fireplace where he was stoking the flames. “There’s my brave little snow angel. Welcome back to the warmth, Kaia.”

She beamed at him, seemingly ready for her next adventure, even if it was indoors.

Kaia grabbed her favorite stuffed animal—a plush dragon with soft wings and a mischievous grin stitched onto its face—and clutched it tightly to her chest. Her small fingers gripped it as if it were her most prized possession.

Without warning, she bolted from the living room, her wings giving a tiny flutter as she launched herself into a toddler sprint. Her curls bounced with every step, and her laughter echoed through the cabin as her bare feet padded rapidly on the wooden floors.

“Kaia!” Rhys called after her, his voice laced with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Where are you going?”

Cassian turned from the fireplace, watching her dart out of sight. “Oh, no. She’s on the move again.”

Rhys pushed himself up from the couch, shaking his head. “She’s too fast for her own good. Did you see which room she went to?”

Cassian shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. “No clue. She’s like a tiny shadow, just like her dad.”

Rhys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We can’t let her run loose in here. She’ll end up climbing something she shouldn’t.”

The two of them quickly started checking the rooms, opening doors and peeking inside. “Kaia?” Rhys called, his tone more playful now. “Where’d you go, little one? You can’t hide forever.”

Cassian poked his head into a small bedroom, scanning for the toddler. “Not here. I swear, she’s got Az’s stealth gene.”

A giggle echoed faintly from somewhere down the hall, followed by the soft thump of her tiny feet as she scampered further away.

“There!” Rhys pointed toward the end of the hallway. “She’s heading that way. Go left, I’ll go right.”

They split up, searching the cabin for the runaway toddler. Cassian checked the kitchen, glancing under the table and even in the pantry. Rhys peeked into another bedroom, opening the closet just in case she’d decided it was the perfect hiding spot.

Finally, they heard a faint creak from one of the rooms upstairs. Rhys looked at Cassian and raised an eyebrow. “Did she make it up there?”

“Apparently,” Cassian replied, already heading for the stairs. “We’re dealing with a master escape artist, clearly.”

As they climbed the stairs, they could hear her little voice singing softly to herself. When they reached the top, they found her sitting in the middle of a guest room, completely content as she played with her dragon toy.

“There you are,” Rhys said, his voice a mix of relief and amusement. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re causing, little miss?”

Kaia looked up at them with wide, innocent eyes, clutching her toy tightly. “No twouble,” she said with a small smile, her voice sweet and certain. “Kaia pway!”

Cassian laughed, shaking his head as he leaned against the doorframe. “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid. Otherwise, you’d be in so much trouble.”

Kaia just giggled and went back to playing, clearly not concerned about her brief escape.

As Kaia stood up, her wings flared out slightly, her tiny feet eager to run again. The moment she started moving, Cassian rushed toward her, eager to catch her before she made another escape.

"Gotcha!" he said with a grin, reaching out to scoop her up. But in his haste, he didn’t quite grab her the way he intended. His hands landed too roughly around her waist, one brushing too close to her delicate wings.

Kaia let out a sharp gasp, her body tensing as pain shot through her. A tiny squeak of distress slipped past her lips, followed by a wail of pain as her wings flared involuntarily, stretching in response to the discomfort. The pressure around her wings made her feel trapped, causing her to cry out.

“Ah, Kaia—!” Cassian immediately froze, his face going pale as he realized what he’d done. He had been too quick, too careless. He quickly set her down gently, his hands trembling slightly as he checked her face for signs of further injury.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Cassian murmured, kneeling beside her as Kaia hiccupped between sobs, clutching her wings protectively. The pain was sharp but not enough to have caused any lasting harm, but it was enough to make her feel vulnerable and scared.

Kaia's little hands rubbed at the base of her wings where the pain had flared. She whimpered softly, her tears making her cheeks glisten. “It huwt...” she sniffled, her voice trembling.

Cassian’s heart dropped, and he looked over at Rhys, who had been standing nearby, watching in horror as the situation unfolded. Rhys stepped forward immediately, his expression full of concern.

“Kaia, sweet girl,” Rhys said softly, his voice soothing. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Cassian didn’t mean to hurt you, did he?”

Kaia looked up at him with big, tear-filled eyes, still rubbing her wings. “Huwts, Rhysie... wanna see mama...”

The sight of her in so much pain tugged at both of their hearts. Rhys quickly picked her up, cradling her carefully, his arms supporting her without touching her wings. He gently kissed her forehead. “Shh, it’s okay. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

Cassian stepped back, his face filled with guilt. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. I just wanted to stop her from running.”

“I know,” Rhys said, his tone gentle but firm. “Just... be more careful next time. Her wings are still delicate, Cass. Especially when she’s running around like that.”

Kaia nuzzled into Rhys’s shoulder, her crying slowly tapering off as she felt the comfort of being held. She looked at Cassian, a small frown on her face. “Kaia fwu... hurt...”

Cassian’s heart sank. “I’m really sorry, little one. Please forgive me.” His voice was soft, remorseful.

Rhys sighed, gently rocking her as he rubbed her back. “Let’s get you settled, little one. We’ll take care of those wings.”

Kaia nodded, her little hands still clutching Rhys’s shirt as she hiccupped softly. “Wings... hurt...” she mumbled again, sounding exhausted.

Cassian stood in the doorway, watching them carefully, promising to be gentler next time. He felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to protect her, and in that moment, the weight of it hit him harder than ever.

Rhys watched as Cassian stood in the doorway, his shoulders slumped, his expression pained. It was clear that the moment Kaia had cried out in pain had hit him harder than he'd expected. Cassian, usually full of energy and wit, now seemed small and weighed down by the guilt of his actions.

Rhys sighed, moving slowly towards him as he continued to hold Kaia gently. “Cassian,” he began softly, his voice more calm than usual. “It was an accident.”

Cassian didn’t meet his eyes at first, instead running a hand through his hair, his gaze still lingering on Kaia. He was chewing at his lip, clearly replaying the moment in his mind. “I didn’t mean to hurt her, Rhys. You know that, right? I just... I didn’t think.”

Rhys stepped closer, now standing beside him, watching as Kaia snuggled further into his arms. She had already started to settle, though the trace of her tears was still visible on her little face.

“I know you didn’t,” Rhys said gently, his voice carrying a quiet authority, as if trying to ease the weight Cassian was carrying. “But you have to remember, her wings... they’re not like ours. They’re delicate, Cass. We all need to be careful when we’re handling her, especially with how young and fragile she is.”

Cassian swallowed hard, nodding slowly, his eyes still on Kaia. “I know... I just... I just wanted to stop her from running off again. She’s so fast, and I didn’t think.” He paused, his voice quieter now. “I really hurt her, Rhys. Look at her.”

Rhys glanced down at Kaia, who had fallen mostly silent now, resting against him, her little fingers still clinging to his shirt. The pain had faded, though she still seemed a bit shaken, her wings tucked close to her body for comfort.

“She’ll be okay, Cass,” Rhys reassured him. “You didn’t do it on purpose. It was an honest mistake. I did it way more than once with Y/N.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “And don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. We’ll all make sure she’s taken care of. You don’t need to carry that guilt.”

Cassian finally met his eyes, his shoulders still heavy, but the tension in his face easing slightly. “I just... I don’t want to be the one who hurts her, Rhys. She’s just a little thing.”

Rhys smiled softly, understanding the weight of his words. “None of us want that. And we won’t let that happen. But you can’t beat yourself up over every little thing. Kaia knows you didn’t mean to hurt her.” He paused, giving Cassian a small, reassuring pat on the shoulder. “We’re family, Cassian. We all look out for each other, especially for the little ones.”

Cassian nodded, his breath coming out in a slow exhale as he glanced down at Kaia once more. Rhys could see the relief start to seep in, even if only a little.

“She’s strong, Cass,” Rhys said with a slight chuckle. “And so are you. Just... be a little more careful next time, yeah?”

Cassian managed a weak smile, though his eyes still held that hint of guilt. “I will.”

As Rhys cradled Kaia, her big, teary eyes locked onto Cassian, who was still standing near the doorway, guilt written all over his face. Her tiny hands gripped at Rhys’s shirt for a moment before she reached one out toward Cassian, her lip trembling.

“C-Cassy?” she said softly, her toddler voice wobbly from leftover sniffles.

Cassian’s head snapped up, his hazel eyes wide with surprise. “Kaia?” he asked gently, his voice breaking slightly.

She squirmed in Rhys’s arms, her little wings giving a faint twitch as she leaned toward Cassian. “Not mad?” she asked, her words barely a whisper, as though she feared the answer.

Cassian’s heart twisted painfully. He immediately stepped closer, holding his hands out toward her. “Oh, sweetheart, no,” he said quickly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not mad at you. Never. I promise.”

Rhys, sensing the moment, carefully handed her over to Cassian. Kaia settled into his arms, her little fingers clutching at his shirt as she rested her head against his chest. “Cassy not mad,” she repeated softly, her voice muffled against him.

Cassian wrapped his arms around her securely, his hand instinctively going to her small back to avoid her wings. “No, Kaia. I’m not mad,” he said firmly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her dark hair. “I could never be mad at you. You’re my favourite little troublemaker.”

Kaia pulled back slightly, her wide, tearful eyes searching his face. “Pwomise?”

“I promise,” Cassian said, his voice full of warmth. “You don’t ever have to worry about that, okay?”

She seemed to consider this for a moment, her tiny brows furrowing in a way that was so Azriel-like it made both Rhys and Cassian chuckle softly. Finally, she gave a small nod and snuggled back against his chest, her little wings twitching slightly as she calmed.

Rhys watched the scene unfold with a soft smile, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Looks like someone forgives you, Cass,” he teased lightly, though his tone held nothing but affection.

Cassian let out a relieved laugh, holding Kaia a little closer. “Thank the Mother for that,” he muttered, his hand gently brushing over her back.

Kaia, now more relaxed, let out a tiny yawn, her small hand patting Cassian’s chest as if reassuring him in return. “Cassy good,” she murmured sleepily, already starting to drift off.

Cassian’s chest tightened, his guilt easing as he held her close. “Yeah, Kaia,” he whispered. “You’re pretty good too.”

-----

The midday sun warmed the ornate balcony of the Day Court palace, casting soft golden light over the intricately carved table where you, Nesta, and Feyre sat. Plates of vibrant dishes—exotic fruits, fresh-baked bread, and delicately spiced meats—were spread out between gleaming goblets of water and pale wine.

Feyre leaned back in her chair, her golden-brown hair catching the sunlight as she sliced into a piece of honey-glazed pastry. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in one sitting,” she admitted, her voice tinged with laughter. “Helion’s chefs are showing off.”

Nesta, sitting to her right, raised an eyebrow as she delicately sipped from her wineglass. Her steel-blue eyes scanned the table, unimpressed. “They certainly know how to lay out a feast,” she remarked dryly, spearing a slice of fruit with her fork. “But I wouldn’t call it showing off until they bring dessert.”

You smirked, stretching your arms over the back of your chair. “I don’t know, Nesta. I think it’s already better than anything we’ve had in Velaris,” you teased, popping a tart berry into your mouth.

Feyre gasped in mock offense. “Traitor,” she accused, pointing her fork at you.

You shrugged, grinning. “I’m just saying, when was the last time someone in Velaris served us peaches soaked in starlight syrup?” You gestured to the glittering dish at the centre of the table, its contents shimmering faintly.

Nesta chuckled, finally breaking a smile. “Fair point.”

The three of you fell into comfortable conversation, the light breeze carrying the faint scent of lavender and citrus from the gardens below. Feyre told a story about Nyx’s latest attempt to climb a tree, which had resulted in both him and the poor tree landing in a fountain. Nesta shared an amusing account of her struggles getting Calen, Torran, and Emrus to sit still during a family dinner.

“You know,” you said between bites of bread dipped in herbed oil, “this is the first time in months I’ve eaten a meal without having to cut it into tiny pieces for Kaia.”

Feyre laughed. “I remember those days,” she said, her expression softening. “It’s nice to have a moment for yourself, isn’t it?”

Nesta’s lips twitched into a rare, genuine smile. “If by ‘moment’ you mean a full day without anyone yelling or crying, then yes, it’s very nice.” She reached for another slice of bread, her tone lighter than usual.

As the meal went on, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—plans for the afternoon, teasing guesses about what chaos the men and children might be causing back at the cabin. Feyre tilted her head toward the sun, closing her eyes for a moment. “We should do this more often,” she said softly.

You and Nesta exchanged a glance, both nodding. “Agreed,” you said, raising your glass in a small toast.

“Next time,” Nesta added, a hint of mischief in her voice, “we’re going to make them pack us lunch before we leave.”

The three of you laughed, the sound mingling with the warm breeze as you leaned back in your chairs, savouring the rare peace and the perfect company.

Nesta was the first to break the silence, tilting her chair back slightly as she gazed out over the sprawling gardens below. “Do you think they’ve burned Velaris down yet?” she asked dryly, though her lips twitched in amusement.

Feyre snorted, shaking her head. “If they have, Nyx is probably the one who lit the match. That boy has a knack for trouble.”

You chuckled, swirling the last of your wine in your glass. “Kaia probably helped. She’s in that ‘curious about everything’ phase right now. If there’s a disaster, she’s either in the middle of it or watching with fascination.”

Nesta arched an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?” She shot a pointed look at Feyre, who rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Oh, don’t start,” Feyre said, tossing a grape at her sister, which Nesta effortlessly caught. “Besides, I distinctly remember you setting Father’s study on fire when you were ten.”

“That was an accident,” Nesta replied coolly, though the faintest hint of pink crept up her neck. “I was trying to read by candlelight.”

You laughed, the sound ringing out over the balcony. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

A soft knock on the doorframe interrupted the conversation, and you all turned to see Helion leaning against the doorway, his ever-present grin firmly in place. “Ladies,” he greeted, sweeping into the room with the grace of a predator. “Still lounging about, I see.”

“Helion,” you said, sitting up straighter but not bothering to hide your smirk. “Here to check if we’ve completely drained your wine reserves?”

He placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “Perish the thought. Though I must say, it’s almost three in the afternoon, and you’re still in your nightclothes.” He tsked playfully. “I expected more from such esteemed warriors.”

Nesta glared at him, though it lacked her usual bite. “I’ve had three children. Let me have my moment.”

Feyre nodded in agreement, raising her glass. “Seconded.”

Helion laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Far be it from me to argue with such formidable women.” He pulled out a chair, sitting with the ease of someone completely at home. “Though I must admit, I’m curious—what exactly did you three get up to last night? The palace staff have been whispering about it all morning.”

The three of you exchanged glances, trying to piece together the hazy memories of the previous night. Feyre groaned, pressing a hand to her temple. “I think we were… gossiping? And then someone brought out another bottle of wine, and after that…”

Nesta shook her head. “Don’t ask me. The last thing I remember is laughing so hard I fell out of my chair.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning back in your chair. “Whatever happened, I’m sure it was nothing Helion hasn’t seen before.”

Helion’s grin widened. “True, though I must say, it’s a shame I wasn’t invited. It sounds like it was quite the spectacle.”

“Next time, Helion,” you promised, raising your glass. “Next time.”

-----

Cassian crouched down in front of Kaia, holding out her little boots as she stomped her tiny feet on the floor, giggling. “Okay, little troublemaker,” he said, his voice unusually gentle. “One foot in, then the other. Let’s get you bundled up before you drag us all into the snow again.”

Kaia, her brown eyes sparkling like Azriel’s, lifted her foot and immediately pulled it back, wiggling her toes with a mischievous grin. “Nooooo! Tickles!” she squeaked, collapsing into giggles.

Rhys chuckled from where he stood by the door, holding Kaia’s tiny, fur-lined coat. “Cass, you’ve been outsmarted by a two-year-old. Again.”

“Don’t start, Rhys,” Cassian grumbled, finally managing to slip Kaia’s foot into the boot. “You’re not exactly winning any points, standing over there like a statue.”

Kaia’s laughter softened as she noticed Cassian’s focus on her. She reached out with her small hands, patting his face lightly. “Cassy not mad?” she asked in her soft toddler voice, her brow furrowing.

Cassian paused, his expression melting as he met her gaze. “No, sweetheart, I’m not mad. Never at you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice low. “I’m sorry I hurt you earlier, okay? I’ll be more careful.”

Kaia tilted her head, studying him intently before giving him a big, toothy grin. “Cassy funny!” she declared, breaking into another fit of giggles as she patted his cheek again.

Rhys snorted, walking over with her coat. “At least she forgives you.” He crouched down, draping the coat around her tiny shoulders and fastening the buttons. Kaia squirmed a little but eventually settled, her eyes darting between the two men. “There we go,” Rhys said, standing and brushing his hands off. “One very bundled-up little girl.”

Cassian stood, scooping her up into his arms before she could make a break for the door. “And where do you think you’re taking us this time, hmm?”

Kaia pointed a tiny finger toward the door. “Snow! Big snow! Wanna find bunnies!”

Rhys raised an eyebrow. “Bunnies? I thought we were making snow angels.”

Kaia shook her head so hard her little curls bounced. “Bunnies first, then ‘angels. Then—” She paused, her toddler mind clearly working overtime. “Then cookies!”

Cassian laughed, adjusting her on his hip as he grabbed her scarf. “You’ve got your priorities straight, kid. Let’s go before you change your mind.”

As they stepped toward the door, Kaia leaned toward Rhys, reaching for him with her little arms. “Rhysie, carry!” she demanded.

Rhys raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. You’re the boss.” He took her from Cassian, settling her against his chest. She immediately grabbed at the edge of his scarf, tugging it playfully.

Cassian shook his head, pulling his own coat on. “She’s got us wrapped around her little finger.”

“Completely,” Rhys agreed, smiling down at Kaia as she babbled excitedly about the snow. “But honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As they trudged through the snow toward the base of the hill, Rhys adjusted his grip on Kaia, who was leaning forward with wide eyes, staring at the glittering blanket of white that stretched in every direction. Cassian followed close behind, his boots crunching through the icy crust, while they chatted about the boys’ training schedules.

Just as they were about to begin the climb, a figure appeared in the distance, running toward them with urgency. Rhys narrowed his eyes and held up a hand to pause their ascent. Cassian stepped forward slightly, his posture straightening, while Kaia, oblivious to the shift in mood, reached up and tugged on Rhys’s collar.

“Rhysie,” she said in her sing-song toddler voice, poking at his jawline with her little fingers. “Down! Wanna walk!”

Rhys glanced down at her, hesitating for a moment. “All right, but don’t wander too far, Kaia,” he warned, crouching to set her gently on the ground. “Stay where we can see you.”

Kaia nodded earnestly, her curls bouncing, and immediately began toddling through the snow. She hummed to herself as she went, her tiny boots leaving uneven prints in the powder as she stomped in circles.

The messenger reached them then, panting heavily. He was dressed in standard Illyrian gear, his wings visibly trembling from the strain of his journey. “My lord,” the man said, addressing Rhysand with a quick bow. “There’s trouble at the nearest camp—an argument has broken out over land disputes, and tempers are flaring dangerously. They’re requesting immediate intervention.”

Rhys frowned deeply, exchanging a look with Cassian. “How bad is it?”

“Bad enough that there’s been a physical altercation,” the messenger admitted, his expression tight. “We fear it may escalate further if someone of authority doesn’t step in.”

Cassian let out a low sigh, his breath misting in the cold air. “Sounds like we’ll need to head out sooner than planned.”

Rhys nodded grimly. “Agreed. Azriel’s already at another camp, so it’s on us.”

As the two began discussing the logistics of leaving the cabin to address the issue, Kaia wandered further from them, her tiny hands outstretched as she admired the way the snowflakes melted on her palms. She crouched near a patch of untouched snow, giggling softly to herself as she poked at the white expanse.

Neither Rhys nor Cassian noticed her subtle movements. Their focus remained on the messenger and their impromptu planning. Cassian suggested a strategy, while Rhys debated whether or not to inform Azriel of the situation immediately.

Kaia, meanwhile, had spotted a small cluster of icicles hanging low from a nearby tree branch. With the stubborn determination of a toddler, she began toddling toward it, her steps uneven but deliberate. The cold breeze tugged at her scarf, but she paid it no mind, too enthralled by her frosty discovery.

It wasn’t until the messenger left and Rhys turned back to continue their walk that he noticed Kaia wasn’t where he had last seen her. “Kaia?” he called, his voice calm but sharp enough to draw Cassian’s attention.

Cassian turned, his brows furrowing as he scanned the area. “Where’d she go?”

Rhys’s heart sank as he realized they had been so caught up in the conversation that they’d let her slip from their sight. “Kaia!” he called again, louder this time, his tone more urgent as his eyes darted around the snowy landscape.

Rhysand’s voice cut sharply through the crisp winter air. “Kaia! Come back here, sweetheart!” His violet eyes scanned the snow-covered ground, seeking the trail of her tiny boot prints.

Cassian immediately joined in, his deep voice echoing across the empty expanse. “Kaia! Where are you, little one?!” His tone was firm but edged with worry.

They both moved quickly, their heads swiveling as they searched for any sign of her. Cassian crouched briefly, studying the snow for fresh tracks, but the crisscrossing prints from earlier in the day made it hard to distinguish hers.

“She couldn’t have gone far,” Rhys muttered, though his tone betrayed his growing concern.

“She’s quick for her size,” Cassian replied, his brows knitting together. His hands flexed at his sides, and he cursed under his breath. “We shouldn’t have let her wander.”

“Kaia!” Rhys called again, his voice carrying more urgency now. The calm façade he usually maintained was slipping.

The biting wind whipped past them as they moved further from the hill, scanning between the trees and behind snowdrifts. Rhys’s shadows began darting out instinctively, swirling and stretching in every direction to assist in the search.

“Kaia, come on, baby!” Cassian called, his tone softening despite the edge of panic. “Where are you?”

A faint rustling noise reached their ears, and Rhys’s head snapped toward it, but it was only the wind shaking a low-hanging branch. His jaw clenched.

“She’s too small to be out here alone,” Cassian muttered, his eyes narrowing as he moved toward a line of bushes. “We need to find her now, Rhys.”

“I know,” Rhys snapped, his calm veneer cracking entirely. He lifted his hand, sending his shadows farther into the surrounding forest. “Kaia! Answer me, sweetheart!”

The silence that followed was deafening, save for the crunch of their boots and the occasional gust of wind.

Cassian straightened, his chest rising and falling heavily. “She wouldn’t just wander into the trees, would she?”

“She’s curious, Cass,” Rhys replied tersely. “If she saw something interesting, she might have.”

The thought made his stomach churn. Rhys lifted his chin and released another shout. “Kaia! Come back to us!”

The echoes of their voices faded into the vast, snowy landscape, and for the first time, a genuine pang of fear struck Rhys’s chest. They couldn’t lose her—not here, not now.

-----

Kaia’s tiny boots crunched softly against the snow as she followed the hopping bunny deeper into the woods. Her wide hazel eyes, so much like her father’s, sparkled with excitement. She giggled, toddling after the small creature, her chubby hands outstretched as if she could grab it.

“Bun-bun!” she squealed, her toddler speech barely forming the words. “Wait! No hop—stay!”

The bunny stopped briefly, its nose twitching as it turned to look at her, then bounded further into the trees. Kaia puffed out a little breath of frustration, her wings fluttering slightly as she continued her pursuit.

“Kaia get you!” she declared determinedly, stumbling slightly over a hidden root before regaining her balance. The cold nipped at her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink, but she didn’t seem to notice.

The trees began to close in around her, their branches forming a canopy that blocked some of the afternoon light. Kaia didn’t mind; she was too focused on her game.

The bunny paused again, just ahead, and Kaia crouched as if mimicking the creature. “Hi, bun-bun!” she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of excitement and awe.

When it hopped away again, she gasped, jumping to her feet. “Nooo! Come back! Pwease!”

She stumbled after it, her tiny wings flaring with the effort of trying to catch up. The ground was uneven, and though she tripped here and there, Kaia was relentless.

A cold breeze blew through the forest, ruffling her dark curls, but she was too enthralled by the bunny to notice the growing distance between her and the hill where her uncles were.

As the bunny disappeared behind a larger snowdrift, Kaia slowed, her little legs tiring. She looked around for it, turning in circles.

“Bun-bun?” she called softly, her voice trembling slightly. The forest suddenly seemed bigger, quieter. The playful giggles she had carried moments ago were gone.

She shivered, her small hands wrapping around herself. “Kaia find you…” she mumbled, her voice unsure now.

But the bunny was nowhere to be seen. The woods were silent, except for the faint whistle of the wind, and Kaia’s tiny face scrunched in confusion. For the first time, she realized she couldn’t see her uncles anymore.

“Uncle Cassy?” she called, turning toward where she thought the hill had been. “Rhysie?”

When no answer came, her lower lip trembled. She clutched the little stuffed animal she’d carried with her, holding it close to her chest.

“Dada?” she tried, her small voice barely above a whisper. The towering trees around her felt suddenly much larger, and the cold began to seep in through her thick coat.

Kaia sniffled, her brave pursuit of the bunny forgotten. “Kaia… cold…” she whispered, tears beginning to well in her big, hazel eyes.

Kaia wiped her little face with the back of her mitten, sniffling as she shuffled through the snow. Her tiny boots sank with each step, but she was determined to keep moving. In her toddler mind, staying still wasn’t an option.

She clutched her stuffed toy tighter, the familiar softness bringing a small sense of comfort. “Bun-bun?” she murmured again, her voice quivering. “Kaia find… Kaia not scared…”

Her small wings fluttered uselessly against her back, a reflex whenever she felt nervous. The forest seemed darker now, the trees casting long shadows that danced in the fading light....

And sadly for Kaia a forest is not a safe place for a child whose father has many enemies.....

Part 3

[goldfades]

𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "paige x iowa!reader (pre-relationship) on game day where maybe r is mic'd up the whole time so fans hear how they flirt, joke around, etc so they start shipping them? the other uconn/iowa girlies always tease them abt it and one night they all go out to a bar tg and someones on live and accidentally catches p and r against a wall kissing or smthn 🫣" for my lovely disco nonnie!

─ word count | 2.6k

─ warnings | teasing, lots and LOTS of teasing, mention of injuries, so much flirting, teasing, slightly suggestive, kissing.... oh and did i mention teasing????

─ taglist | guys idk why my taglist isn't working pls help me and lmk

─ ev's notes | okay so i want to know if yall like the little comment section i put in some of the posts, because i love doing them and i wanna know what ur thoughts are.

"OKAY, HEY LADIES and gents. It's your favorite, me. Y/N L/N," you tried to whisper into the mic secretively as you looked around. Before you could continue talking, you felt Caitlin grab your shoulders and shake you, eliciting a yelp from you.

You sent her a glare as she giggled and walked away, causing you to roll your eyes. "Anyways, sorry for that stupid interruption. It's game day here at Iowa and we're going against... I don't even remember their names."

You were obviously joking, you had plenty of friends on the UConn basketball team and it was running joke that you didn't like them. You smirked into the camera, knowing full well that your faux ignorance would rile up some competition.

"But hey, who needs names when we've got game, am I right?" You grinned, your enthusiasm showing. "So, while we prepare to show those other guys what real basketball looks like, let's talk strategy."

Leaning in closer to the microphone, you adopted a more serious tone, though the mischievous glint in your eye remained. "First off, we gotta dominate the boards. Rebounds win games, folks. Then, we'll run those fast breaks like there's no tomorrow. Speed kills, baby."

You paused for dramatic effect, pretending to adjust an imaginary headset. "And of course, let's not forget about defense. Lock 'em down, make 'em work for every shot. That's how we do it here at Iowa."

You turned around to see some of your teammates giggling at you, causing you to roll your eyes. "I'm getting bullied again, guys. Remember amazing, hot and very cool players have feelings too, okay?"

"Can you shut the hell up and come stretch with us?" You heard Caitlin shout from the court, causing you to sigh dramatically.

With a playful wink at the camera, you turned away, joining your teammates on the court for the pre-game warm-up. As you stretched and bantered with them, you saw the opponents walk in. You couldn't help but bit your lower lip as you averted your gaze from a particular blonde whom you've gotten close to these last couple of months.

After last year's game, Paige followed you on Instagram and you began talking more. However when you two got injured around the same time, it caused you two to talk more and form a closer bond. Eventually, it turned into Paige texting and calling you every single day and now, it's like you two have known each other your entire lives despite you guys seeing each other face to face three times.

You couldn't help but steal glances at her as you stretched, a small smile playing on your lips whenever your eyes met. The familiar banter and teasing between your teams seemed to fade into the background as you found yourself drawn to her presence.

But amidst the closeness, there lingered an unspoken tension ─ a delicate balance between friendship and something more. You couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach whenever Paige's eyes met yours, or the way your heart raced whenever she flashed you a smile.

Caitlin's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. "Yo, Y/N! Focus up, we've got a game to win!"

"Oh my gosh, look it's serious Caitlin I'm so scared," you spoke into the mic quietly, hoping that she wouldn't hear you. Unfortunately, she did and she got up, holding up her hand as you put your hands over your head. "No, I'm sorry!"

Caitlin laughed at your antics, her laughter infectious as she waved off your dramatic apology. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, Y/N," she teased, giving you a playful shove before turning back to the team. "But seriously, let's focus up. We've got a game to win, and I don't plan on losing to those guys."

"Yeah, me neither." She helped you get up from the floor as you walked to the bench. "Thanks, Cait," you said with a grin, falling into step beside her as you made your way to the bench.

As you settled onto the bench, you took a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the game ahead. The familiar sounds of sneakers squeaking on the hardwood, the echoing noise of the crowd, and the anticipation building in the air all served to fuel your determination.

You rose to your feet, eyes fixed on the court ahead. With a quick glance at the UConn's lineup, you immediately spotted Paige among their starting players. Your heart rate quickened slightly as you realized the task at hand — you needed to guard Paige and shut down her scoring opportunities.

In any other situation, it would be easy. Even if the person you were guarding was someone you were friends with, you always made sure to stay professional but this was slightly different. Paige had been the theoretical shoulder you'd been crying on for the last year about your injury that you'd just healed from.

As you stepped onto the court, Caitlin's words from earlier echoed in your mind. You couldn't afford to let Paige get the better of you, not today. You made your way toward Paige and as she met your eyes, she gave you a small smile. You could still talk to her, right? She held out her hand for a quick dap-up and you accepted it gratefully.

"Bro, me and Nika were just talking about how your hair is probably gonna be perfect. You have the best game day hair," Paige spoke finally as you laughed nervously, your gaze momentarily averting to the floor then back to her.

You felt yourself blush under her gaze as you playfully brushed off the compliment. "Oh, you think so, huh?" you smiled, trying to keep the mood light despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Well, what can I say? Gotta look good for the cameras,"

Paige smirked in response. "Oh, trust me, you always do," she teased, her words laced with a playful flirtation that made your heart skip a beat.

You looked into Paige's eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that washed over you. There was something about her presence, her easy smile, that made you feel at ease, even in the midst of a game.

"Says you, with your cute braids. You gotta teach me how to do those one day, you know." You playfully nudged Paige's shoulder, a smile spreading across your face."Now you're just showing off," you teased, your tone light and playful as you admired the braids that framed Paige's face.

Paige chuckled, a soft sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Or I can just do them for you once you actually visit Connecticut, like you promised."

You just realized that you were mic'd up, as you glanced down at the mic. You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Alright, alright, you've got yourself a deal," you replied with a playful wink.

You then felt Kate's hand tap on your shoulder, motioning for you to come to the bench with her. Paige gave you a small smile as she did the same, your heart fluttering at the sight of her smile. With one last glance at Paige, filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation, you followed Kate to the bench.

"Are you gonna lock in, Y/N?" Caitlin's voice rang out as you glanced up at the tall brunette. You saw the slight smirk on her lips as she gazed at you, teasing you without saying anything. She was practically screaming "you're whipped!" as she did.

"Yeah, I'm locked in," you responded as you averted your gaze, laughter echoing in between your teammates as a blush covered your cheeks.

"You know, cus if you're not, I can guard Paige while you go shoot-"

"Oh shut up, Caitlin I hate you." You groaned, causing her to laugh along with the rest of the team. Caitlin's teasing banter was a familiar part of the pre-game ritual, and despite your protest, you couldn't help but smile at her antics.

"Hey, just looking out for you, Y/N," she teased, her tone lighthearted as she flashed you a grin.

As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the game, you shook off any lingering distractions and locked into the moment. This was it the moment you had been waiting for. With a deep breath, you blocked out the noise of the crowd and zeroed in on the game plan.

At one point, as you and Paige push for position under the basket, you couldn't help but let out a laugh as Paige jokingly accused you of stealing her post moves. "Hey, imitation is a form of flattery, right?" you quipped, earning a playful shove from Paige in response.

But perhaps the most memorable moment came when you and Paige found yourselves face-to-face during a heated confrontation for the ball. With the game hanging in the balance, you couldn't help but exchange a playful smirk with Paige, feeling a slight warmth on your cheeks.

Iowa had ultimately won the game but there was no bad blood between the two teams (thankfully), players from both teams exchanged handshakes and congratulatory words, acknowledging the hard-fought battle that had unfolded on the court.

Sure, some of the players were a little hurt but it wasn't like it was the end of the world. However, you knew at some point the two teams would have to play against each other during play-offs but you didn't let yourself get too worried right now. Right now, it was important to savor the moment, to celebrate the hard-fought victory with your teammates and bask in the camaraderie of the game.

──

"You looked good," Paige spoke as she leaned against the wall of the bar. Some of the girls on the team wanted to go out and celebrate and the UConn girls wanted to join. And that was how you found yourself standing next to Paige, a little tipsy as you leaned against the wall beside her, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks at her compliment.

"Thanks, you too," you replied, unable to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You felt yourself shy away from her gaze, a stark contrast to how you usually were ─ teasing and outgoing.

Paige noticed that quickly, a small smirk appearing on her lips as she took a tip of her drink. "Aw, look at you, all flustered," she teased, her tone light and teasing as she nudged your shoulder gently.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you replied, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation. "Gotta stay humble, right?"

Paige laughed, the sound sweet and infectious as she leaned closer to you. "Don't worry, I think you can handle it," she said with a smirk, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

She gazed at you for a little longer as you looked away, only for her to grab your chin and hold it so that you kept looking at her. With a soft chuckle, Paige leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "You're cute when you're flustered,"

"I never thought that you could be shy, you know... with all that shit-talking on and off the court." Paige remarked as she let go of your chin, her gaze still heavy on you. "It's kinda giving me an ego boost,"

"Oh shut up," you mumbled as you took a sip from your own drink, Paige's gaze following your lips. There was something about the way she looked at you, the way her eyes seemed to linger on your lips, that made your heart race.

As you lowered your drink, you met Paige's gaze once more, a playful glint in your eyes. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied with a smirk.

Paige chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Oh, I know," she teased, her voice low and teasing as she leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in her eye.

She wasn't usually ever this cocky, sure she's had her moments but never to this extent ─ she didn't know if it was the alcohol or just you. There was something about her self-assured demeanor that was both enticing and captivating, drawing you in with each exchanged word and shared laugh.

"Well, aren't you just full of yourself tonight?" you teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer to her.

"Can you blame me?" Paige replied with a grin, her confidence unwavering as she met your gaze. "I mean, if you had a pretty girl getting flustered over every word you say, even after her beat team yours, you'd be feeling pretty confident too," she continued, her playful tone tinged with a hint of desire as she leaned in closer, the warmth of her breath grazing your skin.

"Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you replied with a grin, your tone light and teasing as you leaned back slightly, a playful twinkle in your eye. "But just remember, I'm not one to stay flustered for long."

With a playful smile, she leaned in closer to you. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to enjoy a challenge."

Her eyes kept flickering down to your lips as she downed her drink, putting it down on the table next to you. She leaned in closer, as if to test the water, grazing her lips against yours as your breath hitched.

She took your reaction as a yes, her hands finding your hips as she pushed you against the wall. She pushed her lips into yours in a hurried kiss, the intensity of her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

You responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as you pulled her closer, the world around you fading away as you lost yourself in the moment. With a sense of urgency, Paige deepened the kiss, her hands exploring the contours of your body with hunger.

The taste of her lips was intoxicating, a heady mix of alcohol and longing that left you breathless. You forgot all about your teammates and who might see this and recognize the two of you, because neither of you really cared anymore.

Jada drank her water as she kept skimming through the comments of the live, reading them and chuckling at every remark toward you and Paige. Kate was behind her, momentarily blocking from everyone seeing what you two were currently up to.

Kate heard someone call her name as she quickly got up from her spot, turning to respond to the voice. As she moved away, the brief obstruction she provided from prying eyes was gone, leaving you and Paige momentarily exposed.

As Jada's gaze flickered to the screen, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected sight before her. "Oh shit- I mean, shoot." She quickly moved her phone as she glanced at the sight, giving the camera a shocked look as she thought about what she should do.

She had basically just outed the two of you but to be completely fair, it was on you two for making out in a very public bar. "Guys, don't worry that wasn't Paige that was just some other blonde. Sorry guys, you know how Y/N has a thing for blondes."

She sighed as she locked eyes with Kate, who gave her a shocked expression as she looked down at her phone. Kate gave her a look before Jada looked down at her phone, laughing as she waved.

"Looks like we are gonna have to end the live, sorry guys. Love you, bye, mwah mwah."

Paige finally broke the kiss, leaving the both of you to catch your breath. She smiled as her finger swiped your bottom lip, tracing the outline of it gently. You couldn't help but catch your breath, the taste of her lingering on your lips like a sweet memory.

"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips again.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[bbokicidal]

Who You Are | SKZ [B.C]

a new mini-series where I list some random head canons about the boys based on facts we know about them/can catch onto from media.

genre: fluff / tiny angst pairing: Bangchan x GN!Reader warnings: none

I just noticed there's some like. random facts/things the boys do/how they behave that aren't really talked about in fics on here so I'm doing a mini-series to fix that.

Chan | Lino | Changbin | Hyune | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Something more commonly known - This man is SUPER into hugs! Affection in general, but HUGS. Even if it's just hanging on you, he's always happy to be hugging you whether it's something casual and he's just holding on for fun - or if it's more intimate or even comforting. He just really, really likes having you in his arms whenever he can.

Please bake for him. Lix doesn't have a lot of free time these days so his baking duties go to you instead - especially when Chan is whining quietly to himself that the cookies he bought from the store are too hard for his liking. Make him soft cookies - the chocolate chip ones that are gooey, fall apart and melt on his tongue. He wants those types of cookies, please.~

His 'I need to be behind everyone so I can see where they're at' habit also goes for you as well. Whether you're with the group or on your own, Chan's always walking either right beside you or behind you. He loves holding your hand and being close to you of course but he almost prefers walking behind you sometimes because he can actually see you without having to turn his head or side eye you like he's judging whatever it is you're doing. He just needs to have you in his eyesight if you're out and about - who knows what could happen.

If you need something fixed - he's your guy! The boys have said before that Chan is a great mechanic when it comes to fixing wiring for electronics, if a TV or computer isn't working, even other household appliances. And when he's done fixing it all up, he'll organize the cords so that they're neat and aren't too tangled. He leaves it looking brand new every time, even if your television is almost 8 years old. (He gives it a little clean while he's there.)

Chan is wildly good at pretending that he isn't sick even if he is. Or, worse off, while he's injured. Sometimes he overdoes it while working out or maybe he just slipped up and dropped a weight or his wrist bent when he was boxing with Minho; Either way, he is too good at hiding the pain he's enduring. The only time he's open about it and vocalizes how much he's hurting is if it's something more severe; And even then you have to convince him to go in to get it looked at.

Man has a really hard time taking compliments. While you might think it's funny - the way he shies away from your words and gets pink in the cheeks - Chan finds it a little too much; Overwhelming, actually. He'll eventually ask you to maybe tone it down with the teasing, the over complimenting, etc - because while he does appreciate it all, it's just overstimulating for him. It makes his mind reel and whirl with thoughts of 'I need to continue being this accomplished because if I don't, I'll let them down.' and nobody likes having those thoughts plaguing their mind 24/7.

^ Instead of direct compliments that are detailed, i.e. "Chan, you looked so good today! Your hair looked incredible and the outfit you picked out was perfect!" - Chan would rather a simple, "You look really nice today." A simple, sweet acknowledgement of the effort he puts into things whether it be his work, outfits, dates, whatever - is plenty enough for him to feel praised and appreciated.

But while we're on the topic, he does get a little bit pouty if you don't acknowledge something he thought he put a lot of effort into. For example; There was a time he had picked out a new shirt just to match the one you wore for a little date-day he had planned for you and when you didn't notice, he got quiet and a pout settled on his lips until you asked him what was wrong.

The good news is, with this situation, Chan is extremely good at communication. He can tell you, without making you feel bad, that he feels a little unappreciated when you don't notice things he does either for you or with you - or even in general.

Chan also just loves feeling needed. He loves it when you seek him out for advice, to vent, or just to talk to. He thrives off of feeling like he is doing a service to people even if he's just sitting there and listening to you babble about something you got into recently and really like.

He is also quite the perfectionist. Not to the point of him needing to plan every little detail down to the T; But he does take everything into account especially if it has to do with his work. But -- this also applies to dates! He's going to plan your date as well as he absolutely can and he's going to do it in a way that almost prevents anything from going wrong.

That being said, he's also very respectful and willing to listen to anything you have to say, ever. Which means he's more than happy to hear you out with your own date ideas; You feed him your little date fantasies and in turn, he'll make them become your reality!

Chan's mood also determines the atmosphere most of the time. When he walks in the room and it's clear he's not having a great day, people tend to understand that it isn't a good time to pick on him or touch him. Most just give him space. You, though; You're one of the only people he'll ease up on if you come close or cuddle up to him. You're like a little exception.

Chan is a huge fan of Dreamcatcher! If he has the opportunity, he wants to go and see them - which is something you overhear while visiting the studio one day. You end up buying him a concert ticket as a birthday present, even though he probably could've gone for free being in the industry and all - but he highly appreciates it and is almost in tears with how much joy he feels when he sees the ticket. He can't help but ball up his fists and wave his hands around in excitement, eyeing the ticket so hard like he's afraid it'll disappear if he blinks or looks away.

Chan has a fascination and heavily enjoys - drones. He owns a few, or - use to - maybe just one now. Either way, he really enjoys getting to control them and watching them whip around when other people are in control instead. The first time he introduces you to his drone, which he has named (comment what you think he would name it), he insists you try to fly it on your own. When you're too nervous and afraid you'll break it, because it IS expensive, he waves off your worries and helps you control it with his hands laid over top of your own.

During a Trivia event held by the boys in Changbin & Hyunjin's apartment, Jeopardy style of course, Changbin asked a question in which contestants (you, Seungmin, & Jisung) had to name what program Chan uses for Producing. You ding the bell before Jisung has a chance - and Seungmin is completely clueless - and to Jisung's dismay, get the answer right. "Cubase!" Chan's eyes widen in surprise at your knowledge and though he isn't sure how you know that, he's flattered for some reason. Meanwhile, Jisung is clutching his hair in his hands and crying, "How do you even know that?!"

During one year for Christmas, Chan found himself being gifted with a brand new bottle of the Kilian "Back to Black" perfume. He instinctively turned to thank Jeongin, who grew confused as to why his Hyung was doting on him, before claiming he didn't gift that to him. Chan sits back deadpan and turns to look at you instead, where you're sitting next to Felix with a giggly grin. Chan knew you liked his cologne - he was well aware, as you were always huffing his scent when the two of you hugged - but he wasn't aware you knew the name of it. Unless you went snooping...

[the-tarot-witch22]

What's coming for you in 2025? - Pick a Pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My year goal post

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - The emperor, The hanged man, 6 of pentacles, 5 of pentacles, and 6 of cups)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard for you guy is "Organization and structure", if you have been messy like emotionally or just not cleaning your room and just being lazy, I see you getting better and do things in a better way, I am also feeling you will be taking charge in your personal and professional life, if you are in school then i am seeing you being group leader or having better grades, and if you work then i see leading your team, or even correcting your manager like damn this person doesn't hold back, I am feeling some of you may even start your own business like plenty of you wanting to do that, or had doubts, so i am seeing this year could be very fruitful to you in so many ways, I am feeling many of you are just polite in this group, even though you guys might be snarky, BUT, this year i am seeing changing that, i am feeling you will communicated yourself a lot better, if you guys had some financial issues that will be resolving too, I am also feeling you might learn from a male figure in your life, make them your role model, and learn a lot from them. Or I am also feeling in your life you guys have someone dominating your household, like a man, sometimes you do get in fights but it's not bad, this is only for some of you. I am also seeing you being not lazy as you were before, going out of comfort zone, doing things, which you have to do, i keep hearing panda for you guys, some of you could definitely be resonating with that lol. I am also feeling this year you would be helping out a lot of people, and looking back on things you did wrong and will do better this year, also do help people when you can, like feeding animals or people who are in need, it will count as a good karma, some of you could have been injured in past? definitely felt that, but don't worry this year, i am also feeling good health for you, I am also feeling some of you could reunite with people from past, but only let them in if you feel like it, for some of you its a friend, and for some its an ex, just be careful <3 I am also feeling you will get lots of nostalgic feeling and if you have moved out, i am seeing you meeting your parents this year, like getting a feeling some of you might be in abroad, so you might meet or talk with your parents and friends a lot. Earth signs are very prominent here especially virgo and taurus sun/moon/rising, and scorpio sun/ moon / rising.

Oracle cards I pulled for you :

a new start is coming (new moon) : A new beginning a new start is on its way for you, you will be more hopeful, let go of the past, things you manifest will be fruitful, things will move, you will feel more alive if you felt stuck, and YES! whatever your question could be your doubts because trust me its a yes.

be assertive - Be confident in your decisions and yourself, i am hearing "life is too short" living by other people's rules, so make your own and just do what you gotta do.

Okay pile 1, that's all i got for you guys, happy new year my pookies, may all your wishes come true cheers <3

Pile 2 :

(The cards I got for you - 8 of wands, 2 of pentacles, 5 of pentacles, 6 of swords and the lovers)

Okay so the very first thing I heard and feel is that you will or might be taking a trip, I am feeling things will move fast for you, I am also seeing you guys getting the job you want, the internship, the college you want to go into, everything working out for you, the hard struggles that you have faced in your life are just vanishing but i am also seeing a small trip or just up and down from the college/school/work to your kind of travel, I am feeling you might meet someone this year could be at work or at school if not then, some sort of daily doing activity, but anyhow i am feeling there is so much in life that will be working out for you guys. Some of you would be developing new hobbies for yourself like going to gym or yoga or art classes. You might do find to juggle with them a bit difficult like there will be so many things and you would be like we want to try it, try that etc. But all in a good way. I am also feeling that there might be a sort of loss you faced in your life in 2024 or 2023, i am seeing you will be moving away from it, and healing that part of yours, I am also feeling when you do and that's when you will meet someone in your life, and if you don't meet someone then your energy will definitely be calling your partner's energy. But for many of you I am sensing there is a beautiful reunion ahead. Plus there will be decision coming ahead, so go with your gut and choose what you have to. Self love is also a care here, where you focus on yourself. Gemini , cancer, capricorn sun/ moon/ rising are quite prominent here.

Oracles Cards I pulled for you -

Luck is on your side (new moon in Sagittarius) - Write down your wishes your gratitude in the journal, don't be judgy if sometimes you are, a thing that will help you in every way, which you wanted so much it will come to you, there might also be a trip coming.

No need to worry : Things will get better for you so leave the rest to universe and be present in the moment, I am sensing some of you are over worrier so do take it easy, because universe got your back.

Ask for help from others - If you bottle things up, then try to ask for help from others don't hesitate, and your loved ones love you, they love to listen to you talk don't get lost in your heads all the time, you got this.

Okay pile 2, that's all i got for you guys, happy new year my pookies, may all your wishes come true cheers <3

Pile 3 :

(The cards I got for you guys - 3 of wands, queen of wands, king of cups, the fool)

Okay so the very first thing i hear and feel for you guys is, manifest your dreams, just do it, don't doubt if it will be fruitful or not just do it, I am also feeling this new year will bring you a new sort of adventure, something you have never felt before, WHY AM I FEELING THE ADERALINE RUSH, SO I AM SENSING IT WILL BE SOMETHING UNIQUE AND AMAZING AND A DREAM COME TRUE! I am also feeling that some of you guys have fire sign prominent sun/moon/rising especially Sagittarius, I am feeling you guys will be going on a trip this year, which is abroad, you might also go to study in new country, it will be so sudden you will feel it's a no, but when you do it will be like, you made it, 2025 is a year of prosperity for you, and i am seeing lots of blue color, and blue skies, and I am seeing hope for you guys, new starts, adventures, I am also feeling you might adopt a dog or a animal this year, I am also feeling you will enter your divine feminine era this year, and being more confident in your body, I am also feeling the person you will attract will be head over heels for you, awwww, and I am seeing you stepping or taking risks, you might be a bit reckless but honestly seeing this will work out for you~

Oracles card I got for you -

conclusion are within reach (full moon eclipse) - Forgive yourself and others what they have hurt you, it will help you heal, the door once shut, dont go back to it, just know helping others will also be fruitful to you guys.

step out of your comfort zone (north node) - go out just do what you always want to do, say fuck it and do it don't doubt your blessing, you got this, leave the past in past, let go of people or things that doesn't serve you, just know whatever you choose you will be moving in right direction.

success! - I am seeing your professional life getting better and better and whatever door was not opened it will open now, and I am seeing you getting lots of opportunities.

romance - I am definitely seeing you meeting someone this year, if you alrwady have someone your relationship might move to next level.

compromise - The only thing I will say is just get out of your comfort zone.

Okay pile 3, that's all i got for you guys, happy new year my pookies, may all your wishes come true cheers <3

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[seresinhangmanjake]

Hey! I saw you were accepting Feyd requests and I got so excited! Could you do something where Feyd and reader have been married for a little while, have been pretty stand-offish and just keeping up appearances. They get into a fight over something stupid, saying hurtful things because reader still believes Feyd is incapable of feelings. Turns out he’s really protective though and gets seriously injured saving her during an attack? Reader panics trying to help him and the feels super guilty, meanwhile Feyd is enjoying the attention.

Staining

Feyd-Rautha x reader

Notes/Warnings: It's slightly different, but I hope you like it anyway. Mentions of blood and death. Smut so 18+. I'm sure there's typos. I think that's it.

Words: 4100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

“You’re heartless”—that’s what you spit at him after watching him rip apart another family right before your eyes. 

He slaughtered a man for a petty crime, and then you had to watch what would become of the wife and children. 

He gave them options, of course. He presents all of them with a choice: to be servants for his House or to fight for survival in the slums of Giedi Prime. For the mother, it likely means you’ll have a new handmaid. For the boys, they will be trained so they can one day face off in the arena. Either way, it's no life.

As he announced the options for their future, you couldn’t look away from her: the woman whose husband lay at her feet, the blood drained from his body as she attempted to shield her two young sons behind her small frame. You watched her kind eyes go permanently wide out of shock. She needed to answer your husband’s question, give a response to his merciful offer, but she couldn’t. Nothing on her moved save for the grip she had on her boys, which only tightened the longer she stared at her dead lover. 

You knew what would happen to them. Your husband found her silence and inability to snap out of her trace irritating. She would make a poor handmaid if she could not listen. The boys, however, could still make fine warriors—guaranteed entertainment a few years down the line. 

So he separated them. Allowed the guards to pry them away from their mother’s fingers—who left her state of shock behind only when she felt them being ripped from her hands—before dragging them to cells with tears streaming down their round cheeks. 

Their mother collapsed to the floor by her dead husband. His blood soaked her skirts. You didn’t know how a man could do this to his own people for something as simple as the theft of some food, but he does, and often. Then he had her thrown out, back to the slums where she came from. 

She’ll never see her boys again. If you know your husband, he will likely one day force the two to face off with each other in the arena. After all, that’s where his uncle finds entertainment, and your husband will do anything to please the old man. 

Long after his guards have departed with the woman, you’re still staring at the body on the floor. The red around him is congealing. If you run your finger through it, the digit will return sticky and thickly coated. He’ll stain your skin. He’ll stain through your skin onto your insides. He’ll never come off. 

He’s like your husband, you think. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen stained you, and impressively, he didn’t even have to touch you to achieve that. Simply being in his presence was enough to leave his mark, and you’re in his presence plenty, just not how you imagined you would be when you married him. You imagined being in his bed. You imagined kisses and loving caresses and sweet words—that kind of staining. But you were a naive girl when your parents dropped you off on this planet, and you quickly learned how to be a woman; a woman whose husband only uses her for formality’s sake. 

You don’t know why you have to be by his side for this, though, but he always ensures that you are. The two of you…a solidified front to the world, as if you agree with the choices he makes and the punishment he doles out to those who don’t deserve it.

So that’s why you say it. Because you’re tired of this, tired of being silent, hating the idea that your silence might lead him to think the two of you are on the same page; that you’re a team. 

“You’re heartless.”

His head whips to you. “Heartless…” His voice around the word is vile; thick and rich like the blood on the floor. With a few steps in your direction he is in your space and you clasp your hands in front of you, fingers squeezing tightly to keep yourself from running off. He stares down at you, a luminous blue that you found so stunningly gorgeous when you first met him now a pair of frozen icicles stabbing into your skull. “I’m heartless?”

Your swallow is rough. Dry and scratchy. 

“I’m not the one who steals from his neighbors. I’m not the one who risks leaving his wife alone for the rest of her life,” he says. “They know the laws. They know the consequences.”

“And the woman? She deserves to be alone, rotting away in poor living conditions because of his choice? Her children deserve to die for your entertainment?”

“You take issue with how I handle things?”

“Yes.”

Feyd’s back teeth clench. His jaw sets in a sharp line. “Another reason for you to hate me then,” he grits out.

You blink. Your lips part. Another reason? You don’t have multiple reasons, and there’s certainly nothing you’ve done to indicate that you do. You used to hate that he didn’t, and doesn’t, care about you, but you’ve never said a word about it. You’ve never bothered him about sleeping in separate rooms or asked him to give you anything of himself. This—his treatment of his people in situations like this one—isn’t another reason. It’s the reason. 

“You could deal with these matters differently,” you say.

His fingers form balls at his sides. His mouth opens. It closes. He shakes his head and walks past you but pauses before he is completely out of your peripherals. “This is how things are done here,” he says. “You’ve been my wife for five months now. You need to get used to it.”

—

You don’t get used to it. You don’t get used to it because he doesn’t demand you be by his side at his executions anymore. Not after that day. 

You’d never spoken up before that moment, and it cost you what little interaction you had with your husband, which you despise to say was precious. You may not love him, and at times hate him, but he is the only thing you have on this planet. Little as you spoke to one another before, you held onto it because no one else gives a damn about you. Not that he does either, but at least he would give you a word or two. His brother and the Baron don’t bother, leaving you to Feyd to decide what to do with and when to do it. 

However, you imagine they didn’t expect that he would never touch you, and based on the way they watch you and Feyd when you’re forced to join the Harkonnen’s for dinner, you imagine they’re now aware that whatever was between you—minute as it was—is gone. He doesn’t even call on you for formal events. He no longer cares about showing a unified front to the other Great Houses. But you do.

You know what reputation means to the Harkonnens, and regardless of how you feel about the history of Feyd’s choices, you’re not willing to present your life on Giedi Prime as a failure. The two of you are too young for whispers to spread among influential families of a tainted marriage, a crack in the system. You don’t need questions floating about in regards to a unification that will not result in an heir. The end of the Harkonnen line, they’ll say, as Rabban, much older than your husband, has yet to choose a wife. How unfortunate, they’ll slyly mutter around the rims of their champagne glasses. And you’re not ready for that. 

So, with the exception of executions, you attend the events your husband does not invite you to anymore. You make sure your face is seen, especially when most vital. At his meetings, at his fights in the arena, and at Harkonnen parties such as this one. 

People enjoy themselves here. Shockingly, a few strong drinks eases the tension between Houses, and Giedi Prime has the strongest drinks of them all. It’s a tactic. A genius one, if you’re honest. The Baron invites his guests and gets them in a good mood and strikes deals one cannot go back on. Brilliant. Something you might have thought of yourself if your husband let you share your thoughts; thoughts you have plenty of. But no one cares how you would rule this planet if you had a say in its future.

You watch the Houses mingle about. You watch them laugh and dance. You watch them watch your husband. You watch them watch you. You watch the wheels turn in their alcohol-addled brains. You roll your eyes at what he doesn’t see. 

Ungluing yourself from your designated spot, you step up the staircase that leads to the Harkonnen men, your husband and his brother flanking the throne the Baron sits upon. You don’t think to speak to any of them; you didn’t break away from your assigned location for words. Instead, for all to see, you reach up to cup Feyd’s cheek and turn his head toward you for the first kiss since the day of your wedding. A gentle brush of lips. A buzz more engulfing than any drink could offer.

He freezes, and when you pull back his lips are still parted. His eyes open slowly and he stares down at you in awed confusion. How he doesn’t understand why you’ve done what you’ve done is just short of bewildering, but it doesn’t seem to click. 

“You–”

“I’m going to retire for the night,” you tell him. You’ve been at this party long enough, and the guests have now seen what they needed to see. Not to mention, their tipsy state means they’ll soon forget any thoughts they have about you until morning. They’ll stop searching for your presence. 

You don’t wait for your husband’s nod of approval. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t care where you are at any given time anyway, so you descend the staircase and exit the grand room into the hall that leads to your bedroom.

The echo of footsteps follows and you’re bold enough to believe it could be Feyd before a blade is pressed against your throat from behind. For a moment, you think it still might be your husband—retaliation for the kiss that re-sparked a feeling you’ve been trying to ignore since you married him—but the voice in your ear is feminine. 

“He killed my husband, my Lady,” the voice says, and you instantly remember her. It’s been two months but nothing could make you forget the look in her eyes. “I want my sons.”

You swallow hard. The blade nicks your throat from the additional force. A droplet trickles down your neck. “I can’t return your sons to you,” you tell her, at the same time questioning how she infiltrated such a secure place. But you suppose with the number of guests, slipping in would not have been the most difficult of challenges. 

You wince at the deepening cut. Your heartbeat quickens, doing little to aid in stopping the blood seeping from your wound. “You’re the na-Baronness.”

“I have little power here.”

“I don’t care!” she shouts, her words bouncing off the walls. “I want my boys,” and you think now she’s crying. Her tone alters. Something catches in her throat. “What’s happened to them?”

You don't wish to tell her, but you’re in no position to deny her requests. “They’re alive and well,” you say, which isn’t a complete lie. The Baron prefers strong, well-fed fighters—the duels last longer that way. 

“I want them back!”

“As much as I would like to, I cannot give them back to you. It’s not my decision.”

“Then I’ll take you from him,” she spits. “The way he took mine.”

You must’ve put on a grander show than you expected with that kiss because she seems to fully believe that your death would matter to him. But you know he won’t blink an eye. He might even thank her. Reward her by reuniting her with her sons, though unlikely. 

“He won’t care,” you tell her. 

“I have seen him, my Lady. He will care,” she says, and you don’t know how she could possibly come to that conclusion or why. It’s not as if the people of Giedi Prime sense a kind capability from the Harkonnens. “He will–”

She chokes. The blade trembles then drops from your neck. You quickly glance down to find Feyd’s knife deep in her side. 

Many things are a mystery to you in that moment. Why he bothered to leave the party; why he came down this hall of all halls, especially when his room resides in another; and why he pierced her side rather than go for the neck, which would have instantly ended her. His mistake. An uncharacteristic mistake.

The woman whips around, freeing you, and you stumble out of reach. They’re a blur of battling bodies as you get your footing, but then it catches up with you—the pain. Your hand goes to your neck and you make a little noise at the sting of your fresh wound. Your mistake. 

Feyd looks away from her in search of you for a single second. Not even. A half-second. But the woman is smaller, quicker, and the distraction is enough. Her blade slides into his abdomen. He grunts. You gasp.

He regains his focus and, by her hair, he rips her head back to expose her throat and shoves the blade through her neck. Blood spurts across his chest as he removes the weapon, and she collapses to her knees before the rest of her body flops to the floor. 

Feyd takes a shaky step back, staring down at the blade in his torso. He drops his knife and his hand goes to the hilt of the other. 

“No, don’t!” you yell, but you’re too late. He jerks the blade out and it clatters on the ground. His palm does nothing to stop the flow of crimson. 

Rushing to him, you fall to the floor as he does. You press your hands on top of his to keep the pressure but it’s useless. “Don’t you know anything?” you mutter. “You should’ve kept the damn thing in.”

He chuckles. The bastard actually chuckles. Then his other hand raises and lands on top of yours. You think he’s trying to add more pressure, but his touch is gentle. His thumb runs over your knuckles. 

“It’s alright,” he says, and you’ve never heard his voice so devoid of depth and strength.

“No, it’s not,” you retort, irritated. 

“You still hate me?”

“Shut up!” you snap. “Help!” Yanking the black chiffon sleeve off your gown, it tears free and you ball the material to shove it against his wound. “Help!” 

Guards burst through the doors and run to you. You sigh with relief, but when you look down, your husband is paler than you’ve ever seen him. 

“Feyd…” 

You’re shoved out of the way in a second, flung to the side like a flicked-away ant, and then he’s taken from you. You watch them until he’s out of view. When you glance down at your hands, they’re stained with him. 

—

They bandaged your neck in mere minutes and you find it aggrivating that they couldn’t work as efficiently on him. You’ve been dead silent for hours now, expecting to hear screams of pain as they stitch him back together, but then you remember he’s a glutton for pain. He’s probably enjoying it, the sick bastard. But you’re not enjoying it—the waiting, the limbo. It’s torturous. 

You’ve never seen him hurt before. You’ve witnessed his skills in the arena, and not once in your seven months of marriage has someone gotten a decent slash on him. 

Guilt hits you hard as you recall that it’s your fault. That woman was skilled as well—you suppose she would be if she was raised to live where she did—but if you hadn’t made that noise, if you hadn’t distracted him, she would’ve been dead before she could do her damage. This wouldn’t have happened. 

Just then, a knock comes at your door. You speak for them to enter and a guard peeks into your room. “My Lady…” he says, and you pray you’re not about to be told your husband didn’t survive a single stab wound. “You can come with me.”

You don’t wait around for more. You hop to your feet and quickly follow through hall after hall until you’re at his room. 

“What will I see when I walk in there?” you ask. 

“He’s fine, my Lady,” he says, bowing his head to dismiss himself before returning to his post. 

Turning the knob, you edge the door open and step inside. The bed is in immediate view, but he’s not in it. He’s not in it and he should be. Not even the covers are pulled back. Maybe the guard misled you. If he were fine, surely he would be resting. 

You make your way in further. 

“You’re here.” 

Your head snaps to your right where he’s leaning against the lone table in his room, a lit orb on the wooden surface illuminating him from behind in a white glow. He’s less pale than he was; what little rosiness he once had returned to his skin. 

Clearing your throat, you say, “I was told to come.”

“Because I told them to bring you,” he says. 

Your heart pounds at the bareness of his torso, the thickness of his arms as they cross in front of his chest. It pounds in a different way, an off-kilter way, when you notice the dressings wrapped around his waist and the patch of blood that is seeping through three layers of it. 

He must see your distraction because he says, “It’s fine.” Your eyes flick back to his. A beat of silence passes between you. You’re unsure how to continue now that he’s seen the concern you have for him. “I suppose you’re disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” you repeat. “What for?”

“I’m alive.”

Your jaw drops ever so slightly. You recover as best you can before you say, “Feyd, I don’t want you to—I’ve never wanted you to–”

He holds up his hand, cutting you off. “I’m going to listen to you.”

Your brow pinches. Why did he silence you, then? “Listen to me about what?”

He takes a deep breath, an action that lifts his shoulders and has them falling heavily back down. His eyes penetrate you as they’ve always done, but the iciness is gone. “I don’t care if the people I hurt want to kill me,” he starts. “But she didn’t come to kill me; she came to hurt me by killing you. So I will listen to your thoughts when it comes to dealing with matters like that one.” He pauses, expecting a response, but you don’t quite know what to give him, so he continues. “Your voice will make fewer enemies.”

“You care about making enemies?” Since when would a Harkonnen ever care about such a thing? Especially when they are known for doing that thing so well.

“I care when they come after my wife,” he says. Pushing off the table, he leisurely steps toward you. You’re stuck to your spot. “The men of my House do not have a history of caring about their wives. They’ve never cared if their actions bring them harm, and yet, people have used our wives as pawns for revenge for centuries. Many have died to prove a point. I’m not going to let you be one of them.”

He stops only to not collide with your body. You have to look up to maintain eye contact, and when you do, his breath brushes over your lips. “Why didn’t you kill her when you could have? You stabbed her in the side. You avoided vital organs.”

“Because you wouldn’t have wanted me to kill her if I didn’t have to,” he says. “So I didn’t kill her…until I had to.”

You suck in a sharp breath. You didn’t know he was capable of such restraint. You didn’t know he had enough fragments of a heart to glue together to keep him from doing exactly as he pleases. 

His hand lands on your hip and his thumb begins to rub up and down over the curve of it. He hasn’t touched you…ever. In fact, he’s seemed over the months to deliberately avoid it. Like your skin would burn him even through the fabric of your gowns. Anytime it looked like he would try, he’d pull back before flesh grazed flesh. 

“You hadn’t kissed me since we married,” he says, so gentle in that low voice that it’s practically a whisper. It doesn’t make the heat of his breath any less intense against your skin. 

“People were watching too intensely,” you inform him. “They were thinking something was wrong between us, I could tell, and I didn’t want to give them that power over you.”

“So that was it, then?” he asks. “That’s the only reason you did it?”

“That’s–” you swallow, debating whether or not to say it, to give him more. 

“What?”

“That’s the reason I did it,” you decide to tell him, and his face shifts; his features alter in a manner you’ve never seen. He looks down to his feet. He nods and his touch disappears, and now you feel cold and you hate it. “But that’s not the only reason I wanted to do it.”

He freezes as he did before. For a moment, his chest stops rising and falling with expected breaths. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, he raises his head. 

You can’t stop staring, even though your brain is telling you to get ahold of yourself. His mouth is so plush. You’ve always known it. It’s always done something to you. And whatever that something is, it’s more potent now that he’s so close and you can see his lips glistening in the low light. 

“Will you do it again?” he asks.

Again? You didn’t imagine he wanted you to do it the first time, or the second. The first was an obligation. The second was not exactly mutually agreed upon. But as he stands in front of you, asking, you can’t bring yourself to say no. You don’t want to say no. So you say yes, and you inch up on your toes until your lips meet his. 

Immediately, he’s yanking your body flush against his. His hand goes into your hair, and he parts his lips so they can better lock with yours. He’s good at this, and you don’t want to think about why, can’t think about why without a knot of jealousy settling in your gut that only dissipates when those hands travel down your body to the back of your thighs. You’re in the air, your legs wrapped around his waist, your lips still sealed for one second more before your back hits the mattress and he’s on top of you with his leg shoving between yours, nudging your thighs open for him. 

You don’t know the exact moment it happens, but your skirts are up to your waist and he’s inside of you, moving in and out, kissing your neck and pulling gasps from your throat, and it feels right, good, like pieces falling together. A bit of you feels guilty for that. That you can know what he’s done to people and still want to feel the pleasure of every inch that he’s giving you. You’re selfish, maybe that’s it. Maybe you’ve always been and you didn’t know it. You can’t bring yourself to care as he makes those deep noises in your ear and stains your insides.

After you’re sated, you lay there for a while with him in your arms and his arms wrapped around your waist. His head rests on your chest. You think about the things you’ve done to each other in the course of an hour and it brings a blush to your cheeks. You think about how you can’t go back and that you don’t want to. You’ve wanted this from the beginning, despite what he’s done. You expected it when you married him only to be sorely disappointed at his lack, or what appeared as a lack, of interest. You’re definitely selfish, at least when it comes to him. But you refuse to be when it comes to other matters.

“I want something from you,” you say. He hums, content. “I want us to take in that woman's boys.”

[callsign-rogueone]

hour thirty-eight

Bodhi Durran x reader (darling!) words: 1.7k 🏷️: set during fourth wing, aftermath of reader's RSC (not described in any detail, just that you're injured from it), dain and love cameo (you'll eventually be getting love's pov of all this!), xaden gets sucker punched (he kinda deserved it tho), feral bodhi and then sweet soft bodhi in the same post, I'm not the happiest with this one but here it is anyway.

Thirty-seven hours. Thirty-seven fucking hours since Bodhi has seen any trace of you. 

You clearly aren’t out with your squad doing land-nav or anything, because they’re still here, enjoying their weekend off. And they have no idea where you are, either. They haven’t seen you since before he did.

He’s retraced your steps a dozen times by now. You’d had dinner, washed up and spent the night in his room, woken up early for a leadership meeting, then vanished off the face of the planet, and everyone is acting like it’s business as usual.

Everyone except Xaden. 

He might be mister unaffected and cool to everyone else, but his cousin can smell that something is off with him — cornering him and Garrick in the hall after dinner. 

“I’ve checked the infirmary, I’ve checked the death rolls, and the rest of her squad has no idea either, but I know you know something. You’ve got that look on your face. So please, tell me,” he begs, his voice wavering.

He watches the two older boys exchange a look, knowing neither of them want to be the one to say it. 

Xaden sighs, evidently having lost the silent battle of eye contact. “I just need you to trust me. She’s going to be fine — she should be back in the morning.”

“Back from where? Where are the fuck is my wife, Xaden?”

He winces. “Part of the second-year course is interrogation training,” he begins carefully.

“You mean she’s being tortured?”

Xaden exhales. “Yes.” He doesn’t bother to dodge the first punch Bodhi throws — letting it hit him right in the jaw. 

It’s Garrick who lunges forward, grabbing the younger man around the waist and pinning his arms to his sides to hold him back from throttling his cousin. Bodhi thrashes in his grip, uselessly trying to get free. “You didn’t think to mention this to any of us? To your own fucking sister? Because she’s missing too, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Bo,” Garrick says softly, “you need to take a breath. She’s going to be fine. Both of them will.”

Garrick’s words don’t mean anything to him. “Don’t fucking start with me, Gare. You had plenty of opportunities to tell us, too. You could have mentioned it a year ago, when you found out yourself.“

“We didn’t tell you for the same reason that Cuir didn’t tell you, nor did the Lieutenant Colonel,” Xaden says levelly, his arms crossed over his chest. “Everything they do in RSC is supposed to be a surprise that you can’t prepare for. It’s all classified, and those who have completed it are forbidden from telling anyone what happened.”

“Bullshit. When has that ever stopped you before? Since when do you give a singular shit about the rules?”

“Bodhi,” Garrick warns, glancing around the hall, but thankfully nobody is around to have heard them.

“Fuck — off,” he pants, finally cutting loose from the section leader’s grip. “If you tell me to breathe again, I swear—”

“Bodhi,” Garrick repeats, louder, nodding toward the end of the hallway. “Look.”

The younger boy turns, his anger immediately replaced with relief as he sees you. 

Xaden’s shadows rush up to cushion your bruises as Bodhi gathers you into his arms. “Gods,” he breathes into your hair, “I was worried sick — I had no idea where you were. Was Callwell with you?”

“Yeah. She’s in the infirmary, with Dain.”

Bodhi pulls back to look at you, taking stock of your injuries. “Why didn’t you go with them?” he asks gently. There’s no scolding in his tone, just the same soft concern you can see in his eyes.

“I wanted to find you, and make sure you were okay. I didn’t know if they’d taken you too,” you say softly, your voice dry and scratchy. 

Xaden and Garrick both look guilt-stricken. Good, Bodhi decides. They should be.

“We stayed after class to talk to Kaori, and I got that feeling, but I didn’t know what was going to happen, or to who. As soon as we stepped out into the hallway…” you don’t finish the sentence. “They messed up — they weren’t supposed to take me, just her and Dain. But I was walking with them, and I guess they thought we were in the same squad.”

There’s a second of silence. “M’sorry I scared you,” you say softly. 

“Don’t apologize, cridhe. I’m just glad you’re safe now. Let‘s get you to the healers, okay?”

You hum in acknowledgment, fighting to keep your eyes open. It’s going to be a challenge for him to limp you back down the stairs and across the campus in this state, with your energy completely drained and your legs injured as well.

“I can…” Garrick offers, stepping forward.

“I’ve got her,” Bodhi snaps over his shoulder, steadying you with an arm around your waist. “She’s my responsibility, not yours.”

“Don’t be too hard on them,” you murmur, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. “Knowing it was coming would just have made it worse.”

Oh, gods. Now he knows — now he and Imogen and the rest of your friends are going to be waiting to be whisked away to the dungeons for a weekend of suffering, constantly anticipating an ambush, bags being thrown over their heads and getting dragged down to the dungeon to be beaten. That must be how you feel all the time with your signet, always focused on some looming tragedy or catastrophe. 

You haven’t let it break you thus far, so he won’t either.

Your walk to the infirmary is mostly silent, save for the occasional soft praise from Bodhi, gentle murmurs about how well you’re doing and that you’re almost there.

——

Dain’s forehead and nose are bloody, a dried up cut splitting his cheek, but it’s nothing compared to the state of your friend who sits beside him, tears slowly dripping down her face.

“She shielded us,” you explain to Bodhi in a soft voice. “So they took it out on her the worst, and made us watch.”

His heart twists as he realizes exactly how cruel and how realistic this training is, to punish someone for protecting their friends. They’d probably done that with the goal of getting you or Dain to crack, to exchange information for relief from the sight of her being broken bit by bit and the sound of her screaming.

But from the looks of her, the two of you had held fast — not telling them anything.

Dain continues whispering to her, his thumb stroking over her knee as a healer presses a hand against her ribs, inspecting for cracks. They must find one, because she curls in on herself with a soft whimper of pain, squeezing her eyes shut.

Another healer appears, beckoning you forward. She doesn’t protest as Bodhi comes with you, keeping a hand on your back as you walk. “Second year?” she asks, a soft sadness in her voice.

“Yes ma’am,” you say quietly, realizing that at her age, she’s probably bandaged up a thousand cadets after they’d gone through the same thing. 

That means someone else on this campus has beaten a thousand of you half to death.

“You think anything’s broken?”

“No, ma’am. Just some cuts and bruises.”

Bodhi helps you out of your ruined flight jacket, baring your arms, but the healer doesn’t flinch at the sight of your relic, nor the purpling bruises across your chest and shoulders. She’s gentle, silently working on disinfecting and stitching and bandaging with a learned hand. 

You let your head loll against Bodhi’s shoulder, your eyes closing. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck. 

“You picked a good one,” she remarks, a knowing smile on her face. “He’ll take care of you, like a warrior should.”

You turn your head to look at her. The sentence doesn’t quite make sense in the common language, but in Tyrrish, the words “husband” and “warrior” sound nearly identical.

“Smart girl,” she praises, knowing you’ve figured it out from the look on your face.

“I am in your debt,” Bodhi says softly, not wanting the other healer to hear. “She is my world. Thank you for holding her so gently.” 

She offers you both a soft smile. “May she one day be free.”

Your eyes widen, but you quickly force the rest of your face into a neutral expression. This might be a trap — a way for the school to see if you’ve inherited your parents’ ideology. And any evidence of any of you having thoughts about a second attempt at secession will mean the end of Xaden’s life.

She doesn’t pry or say anything further, just rising from her seat and cleaning up the tools she’d used before crossing the room to help the other healer.

You cast another glance back at your friend. Dain is still with her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as Nolon works to fix her broken bones. Her eyes are closed, her breathing steady now that the pain has dulled.

“I’ve got her,” he promises quietly, seeing your hesitation. “Get some sleep, if you can.”

You nod in acknowledgement, letting Bodhi guide you back to the rider’s dorms and mindlessly following his lead as he gets some things from his room, then takes you to the showers, helping you out of your bloodied uniform and washing the blood from your skin in near-silence. 

The rest is just muscle memory — brushing your teeth and tugging one of his shirts over your head, padding across the hall to his room and climbing into your side of his bed, tucking yourself under his arm and pulling the blankets over you both. 

He plants another kiss to your forehead, his heart softening at the way you nuzzle your cheek into his shoulder in response — you’re too tired to lift your head up enough to return the kiss, but he knows that the way you’re curled into his side is an ‘I love you’ in itself, an indication that you feel safe with him, to let your guard down in this death trap of a school, to finally relax and sleep after two days of pain and fear.

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫

Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.

author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do. 

Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong. 

By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.

When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.

He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.

He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them. 

With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down. 

While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.  

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable. 

Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!

Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.

She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.

As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room. 

Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family. 

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt. 

Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you. 

When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.

Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life. 

When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice. 

🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:

Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever. 

Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.

He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets. 

“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.

He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits. 

Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp. 

He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”

♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:

Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.

But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different. 

“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.

When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.

He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited. 

You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.  

He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him. 

As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.

When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings. 

“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed. 

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.

When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.

Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?

He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder. 

When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.

You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk. 

You could see something change in his eyes. 

He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.

😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:

Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms. 

He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success. 

He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING. 

When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you. 

As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail. 

When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?

[thedensworld]

Work Stressed | Y.Jh

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader

Genre: comedy, fluff

Summary: Working with your best friend is stressful and Jeonghan will tell you why.

"Where is she?!" Jeonghan slammed his fist onto the desk, eyes burning with frustration as he stared at the article on his screen. One of his artists, you, was now being implicated in a vandalism case in Hongdae. Your photo—blurry but unmistakable—was plastered all over the page, showing you running with a group of culprits. How had this happened?

"She's on her way here, sir," his secretary said quietly, sensing his fury.

Jeonghan massaged his temples, trying to quell the growing headache. Just yesterday, a paparazzi had caught you napping on a park bench, forcing him to pay off a tabloid to kill the story—especially with your drama currently on air. Now this? Vandalism in Hongdae? The timing couldn't have been worse.

"She's going to be the death of me," he muttered under his breath.

Right on cue, you strolled into his office, a bright smile on your face as if nothing had happened. "Hello! I got you coffee," you chirped, holding up a cup like it was some kind of peace offering.

Jeonghan’s jaw tightened. He pointed sharply to the couch. "Sit."

You blinked but complied, casually dropping onto the plush seat as if you were here for a friendly chat. Jeonghan motioned for everyone to leave the room—your manager, his secretary, all of them filed out without a word, leaving the two of you alone.

"What's it this time?" you asked, unfazed, already knowing you were the problem child of the company. You leaned back, taking a slow sip of your coffee, like this was just another Tuesday.

Jeonghan didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he slammed the printed article down in front of you. “Read.”

You glanced at it briefly, then back up at him with a shrug. "I was just jogging," you said, completely nonchalant.

Jeonghan’s eyes flashed with disbelief. "Jogging?! How is my PR team supposed to spin that? Do you think the public is going to believe you were just out for a jog when you're literally pictured running from the scene with a gang of vandals?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes as if he were the one being unreasonable. “I didn’t do anything. I’m not part of any gang. It’s just a coincidence. Tell them that.”

Jeonghan gritted his teeth, trying to contain his frustration. "It’s not that simple, darling. You don’t just explain away an article like this. Your reputation is on the line."

Leaning forward, you met his gaze, unbothered. “Doesn’t matter what I say. I’m always going to be the villain anyway, even when I’m telling the truth.”

That made him pause. As much as it frustrated him, you had a point. You were always honest—maybe tood honest—but no matter what you said, the media would find a way to twist it. They always did.

Jeonghan slumped back into his chair, exhaling heavily, his anger slowly deflating. "I'm sorry," he muttered, surprising even himself. "How are you, by the way? I heard you got injured during filming."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change of tone. You nodded, pulling up your sleeve to reveal a deep scratch on your left arm. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just a cut."

Jeonghan winced. "That’s going to leave a scar."

You smiled, unfazed. "Well, lucky for me, you’ve got plenty of money to fix that."

For the first time that morning, Jeonghan chuckled softly. "Yeah. You’re not wrong."

It had been 15 years since that fateful day in high school when Jeonghan accidentally kicked a soccer ball straight into your forehead. You had been the new kid in school, standing on the sidelines of the field, and Jeonghan's errant kick had made sure you were noticed. While you were clutching your head in pain, Jeonghan had rushed over, apologizing profusely. That was the beginning of your unlikely friendship.

At the time, you had just moved to Seoul for your acting debut, and Jeonghan, with his easygoing charm, quickly became your first friend in the new school. He was the only one who didn’t treat you differently because of your budding fame, and soon, the dynamic shifted from classmates to something more like colleagues. You were juggling school and early acting roles, while Jeonghan was focusing on his studies—first as a regular student, but with a growing interest in business.

"Hey," Jeonghan had said one day after school, leaning against the lockers with that confident grin of his. "I’m going to start a label in the future. Do you want to be my actor?"

You had laughed at the time, but without hesitation, you responded, "Sure."

It was a simple promise made between two teenagers who didn’t quite know what the future held. You didn’t expect it to come true, but years later, after Jeonghan graduated with a degree in business and you had built up a name for yourself in the industry, the promise came back.

"Remember when you said you’d be my actor?" Jeonghan had asked one evening over drinks, his tone light but his expression serious.

And just like that, the promise from high school had become reality. Jeonghan had become your manager—a great one, too. He knew how to navigate the industry, protect your image, and push you to take on more challenging roles as your career advanced. He wasn’t just your manager—he was someone who knew you, who had been there from the start.

But in recent years, things had gotten complicated. As your fame grew, so did the pressure. The roles weren’t easy anymore, and neither were the scandals. Jeonghan spent more time putting out fires, like today’s vandalism case, and less time just being your friend.

He watched you now, still sipping your coffee like nothing had happened. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, hidden behind that carefree exterior you always wore in public. And that made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, he had pushed you too far.

Breaking the silence, Jeonghan leaned forward. "Do you ever think about... slowing down? Taking a break?"

You gave him a long, hard look, as if weighing the question carefully. "Are you suggesting I quit?" you asked, a small smirk playing on your lips, but there was an edge to your voice.

Jeonghan shook his head. "No, not quit. Just... rest. You've been running non-stop for years. You’ve earned a break."

You leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "And what would I do with a break? Stay home? Watch dramas I’m not in?"

"You could live," Jeonghan said softly, surprising even himself with how earnest he sounded. "You could live without the cameras, the articles, the public scrutiny—just for a little while."

You looked at him, searching his face for something. After a moment, you sighed. "Maybe. But I don't think the world would let me rest, even if I wanted to."

Jeonghan frowned but didn't argue. He knew you were probably right. You were too much of a public figure now. People always had their eyes on you, waiting for your next move, your next mistake.

"Still," Jeonghan said, "if you ever decide to take that break, I’ll be right here."

You smiled, genuinely this time. "Thanks. But we both know I'm not going anywhere just yet."

Jeonghan returned the smile, though there was a trace of sadness in it. "Yeah. I know."

*

Jeonghan was jolted awake by the shrill sound of the doorbell ringing incessantly. Groggily, he glanced at the clock—2 a.m. If this wasn’t something urgent, someone was getting fired. He dragged himself out of bed, confused and annoyed, and checked the intercom. His brows furrowed when he saw your face on the screen. Without hesitation, he buzzed you in.

Opening the door, he found you standing there, still dressed in full makeup, looking disheveled and slightly off-kilter. At first glance, you appeared drunk. Your new manager was standing awkwardly behind you, wearing a tight, apologetic smile.

"She insisted on coming here," your manager explained, his tone strained.

Jeonghan waved him off. "It’s okay, I’ll take it from here. You should go home and get some rest."

With a nod, the manager gratefully left, and Jeonghan turned his attention to you. He sighed, taking in your messy state. "Who did you get drunk with this time?" he asked, guiding you inside and sitting you down on the couch. He slipped off your jacket, his patience wearing thin.

But then you blinked, stretched out dramatically, and he noticed the telltale spark of mischief in your eyes. You weren't drunk at all—you were acting.

"I knew it!" Jeonghan groaned, throwing your jacket back at you as he slumped down on the opposite end of the couch. "What are you doing, disturbing my sleep at 2 a.m.? I have work tomorrow."

You giggled softly, bending down to untie your shoes. "Let me crash here for a few days," you said casually, propping your legs up on the couch as if it were already decided.

Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head. "Absolutely not. Get up, I’m driving you home." He reached out to pull your arm, trying to get you back on your feet.

"No!" You resisted, clinging to the couch. "I don’t want to go home."

He crossed his arms, leaning back and studying you. "Did something happen?" His voice softened with concern.

You avoided his gaze, biting your lip as if debating whether to tell him. Finally, you mumbled, "I haven’t been home in a week. I’m scared... Let me stay here. I’ll sleep in the guest room, and I swear it’ll be like I’m not even here."

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What do you mean, scared?" He grabbed your arm, gently pulling you back down when you tried to dash off to the guest room. "No, sit down and explain. What’s going on?"

You hesitated, your eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "I think someone’s been in my house… for the past week."

Jeonghan’s frown deepened. "What? How do you know?"

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him. There was a picture—of you, taken from inside your house. It was grainy, but clearly snapped from within the confines of your own home.

Jeonghan’s expression darkened as he studied the photo. "And you’re just telling me this now? Did they hurt you?"

You shook your head. "No, but... the last time I went there, I heard someone chasing me, and I fell down the stairs."

He immediately reached for your arm, rolling up the sleeve to reveal the injury. "So this wasn’t from shooting, was it?" You shook your head again, and his worry only grew.

Jeonghan cursed under his breath. "That’s dangerous. Why didn’t you call the police?"

"I panicked," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I didn’t know what to do. My new manager doesn’t even know... He tried to take me home tonight, but when I saw the lights were on, I freaked out and asked him to bring me here instead."

Jeonghan sighed, running a hand through his hair. He could see how shaken you were, though you were trying to keep it together. "You shouldn’t have kept this to yourself."

"I didn’t want to cause more trouble," you muttered, biting your lip. "I already feel like I’ve been a mess lately..."

"Hey," Jeonghan interrupted, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, his voice firm yet reassuring. "That’s alright. You did the right thing by coming here."

You looked up at him, visibly relieved by his words, and he could see just how exhausted you were—mentally and physically. He stood up, grabbing his phone from the table.

"You’re sleeping in my room tonight," he said. "The guest room’s full of my work stuff right now, and I’m not letting you sleep alone when someone’s been in your house."

Before you could protest, Jeonghan was already dialing the security company and setting up arrangements to keep you safe. You sat there, watching him take control of the situation, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe.

"Thank you," you whispered, as Jeonghan hung up the phone and turned back to you.

He smiled softly, reaching out to ruffle your hair. "Get some rest. You’ll be safe here."

And for the first time in days, you actually believed it.

*

"I didn't know you could cook," Jeonghan remarked, stepping into his home, greeted by the delicious aroma of a home-cooked meal. The sight of you casually moving around in his kitchen was something he never thought he’d witness. In his mind, you were always more of a 'princess treatment' kind of girl, not someone who could navigate a kitchen so confidently.

"I’ve lived alone since high school. Of course I know how to cook," you replied, brushing off the surprise in his voice. You ushered him to change out of his work clothes and join you for dinner.

A few minutes later, Jeonghan sat down at the table, taking the first bite of your meal. His eyes widened in genuine appreciation. "Thanks for the meal. This is really good."

You smiled at the compliment. As he ate, Jeonghan’s expression grew more serious. "The police are investigating the stalker case. They’ve already found a few leads, so we should have more answers soon. As for the vandalism incident, we’ve sued the media for spreading disinformation. Hopefully, that’ll keep them in check."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. "I just don’t understand how anyone could believe I’d do something like that. Do I really seem like the kind of person who would join a vandalism gang?"

Jeonghan laughed, shaking his head. "Not at all. They’re just looking for a story."

The two of you finished dinner, and Jeonghan insisted on doing the dishes while you moved to the living room, scrolling through the script your manager had sent over. It wasn’t long before Jeonghan joined you, handing you a can of beer.

"What’s this one about?" he asked, gesturing to the script in your hands.

"A memorable one-night stand that ends up with the female lead discovering it was her boss," you replied, taking a sip from your can.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. "Koreans really love their one-night stand stories. Almost every drama seems to start like that these days."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Yeah, but this one’s different. The boss—the male lead—has actually been in love with her since high school. I know, it's a bit unrealistic, but the character development is solid."

Jeonghan smiled, understanding now why you’d taken the role. "Is that why you accepted the part?"

You nodded. "That, and let’s be honest, there are so many new rookies in the industry now. I can’t afford to be picky." You laughed, but there was a hint of truth behind your words.

Jeonghan picked up the script and skimmed through it. "Let me help you with practice," he offered, settling in beside you. He took on the role of the male lead, reading his lines with a surprising amount of intensity.

"Just because I’m your boss, doesn’t mean I can’t love you," Jeonghan read, his voice low and serious. "I’m also human. I have feelings. And I’ve told you before, I’ve liked you since high school. That feeling... it never stopped. It’s only grown, Y/N."

You blinked, startled by the sound of your own name coming from him. "That’s my name," you pointed out, half-joking but also feeling the odd shift in the air.

Jeonghan quickly cleared his throat, flustered. "I—I meant to say, Mina... the character’s name." His face flushed as he tried to recover.

You watched him for a moment, feeling the tension building between you. Suddenly, the room felt too small, too intimate. You hastily grabbed the script from his hands. "Practice is over," you said, tossing it onto the coffee table.

The atmosphere was heavy, the lines between your characters and your real relationship beginning to blur. You stood up quickly, needing to break the awkwardness. "Do you want ice cream? Or dessert? Maybe I should order pizza?"

Jeonghan bit his lip, looking down as he rubbed the back of his neck. He had messed up, and he knew it. That one slip, saying your name instead of the character’s, had crossed a line he wasn’t sure he could uncross.

"Yeah, sure. Pizza sounds good," he muttered, watching you retreat to the kitchen, trying to put some distance between the moment that just passed. But the tension hung in the air, thick and undeniable. He wasn’t sure if either of you could pretend it hadn’t just happened.

*

"Are they following us?" Jeonghan's voice was tense, his eyes glancing at the rearview mirror every few seconds. You followed his gaze and immediately recognized the car tailing you both since you left the company.

"It's them," you whispered, dread settling in your chest. It was the stalker that had been eluding the police for weeks now, making your life a constant state of unease.

Jeonghan's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "They must’ve been waiting for you," he muttered, a sharp edge to his tone as he pressed down on the accelerator, increasing the speed. His jaw clenched, and his knuckles whitened as he kept glancing at you, noticing the panic on your face as you watched the car in the rearview mirror.

He let out a frustrated sigh before turning the car down an unexpected street. "Why are we turning left?" you asked, confusion lacing your voice.

Jeonghan shot you a determined look, the corner of his mouth curling slightly into a grin. "I'm giving them a little lesson," he said calmly, though there was a storm brewing behind his eyes.

Your stomach dropped. "No..." you began, shaking your head in protest. "This could be dangerous, Jeonghan."

He only smirked as he turned the car down a narrow, dark alleyway, taking sharp turns that would easily confuse the car behind. Within moments, Jeonghan had maneuvered them into a tight corner, effectively trapping the stalker's car.

The car came to a screeching halt, and you let out a deep sigh, anxiety still buzzing through your veins. "This isn’t a good idea..." you whispered, but Jeonghan was already out of the car, his movements swift and purposeful.

You barely registered where the bat came from, but suddenly, Jeonghan had it gripped in his hand as he approached the stalker’s vehicle. Without hesitation, he swung the bat at the car’s door, the sound of metal denting beneath his force echoing in the quiet alley.

"I said, get out, you motherfucker!" Jeonghan’s voice was cold, sharp enough to cut through the fear lingering in the air. You flinched at the sound, shocked by this side of him. He'd always been calm, composed, but tonight he was someone else entirely—fierce and protective.

The driver, a man, finally opened the door, trembling as he faced Jeonghan, who towered over him with a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Is this the guy who’s been following you, Y/n?" Jeonghan barked, his eyes flicking back to you for confirmation. You took a few steps forward, your breath catching in your throat as you recognized the man’s face, albeit obscured by the shadows. But you knew. It was him.

You nodded, pulling out your phone with trembling hands and dialing the police, your fingers moving on autopilot. Jeonghan didn’t wait. He grabbed the man by the collar, lifting him slightly off the ground as he growled into his face, "If you ever come near her again, I swear to God—"

The man whimpered, too scared to even respond. Before anything more could happen, the flashing lights of the police illuminated the alleyway, casting long shadows as officers arrived on the scene. They quickly apprehended the stalker, securing him in handcuffs as you gave your statement to one of the officers.

As the police car drove away, Jeonghan stood there, still clutching the bat. His shoulders finally relaxed, and he turned back to you, the fierceness in his eyes softening into something more familiar, something more... him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice now low, filled with concern.

You nodded, still shaken but relieved. "Thank you, Jeonghan," you whispered, unsure of what else to say. He walked over to you and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his earlier anger dissipating into tenderness.

"Don’t worry," he said softly, "let's go home."

*

Despite everything that had happened recently, you refused to take a break. You continued cooperating with the ongoing investigation, all while managing to shoot your latest drama. With the media spotlight firmly fixed on your every move, you became the topic of discussion, whether it was for the stalking case, the vandalism rumors, or your work. It wasn't a surprise when some of your co-stars started showing subtle attitudes—jealousy or perhaps frustration, masked behind fake smiles.

One of them, a junior by two years, approached you between takes with a smug expression. She had once been part of the company before leaving two years ago. “Maybe you should give your company a break from all the scandals and trouble,” she said, her words dripping with passive aggression.

You didn’t miss a beat, flashing her a sharp grin. “Still worried about your ex who takes care of me better than you ever did?" you shot back, referencing Jeonghan, whom she had dated before leaving the company. Your words hit their mark, her face briefly betraying the sting before she turned and walked away.

Jeonghan’s words echoed in your mind: "Be bold. Don’t be nice to people who do you dirty." He had told you that during one of your darkest moments, when the pressure of rumors and whispers had almost broken you early in your career. Now, you carried that same attitude with you—while you were known as a bit scandalous, and people tried to paint you as a troublemaker, you had firm boundaries. And unlike some, you didn’t allow people to step over them. You had no problem telling them to back off, which often led to even more shade and misinformation thrown your way.

But no matter how hard they tried to tear you down, the public loved you. Your acting was brilliant, your roles brought to life in a way that others could only admire. And while you were often the target of rumors, at the end of the day, people couldn’t deny the fact that you were just a person trying to stay sane in the cutthroat world of entertainment.

“Good job, everyone!” the director called, signaling the end of the shoot. You thanked everyone on set as you wrapped up your work for the day. It was past 10 p.m., and exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders. Fortunately, today's shoot had been made more enjoyable by a surprise food truck sent by your former co-star, Jeon Wonwoo. The gesture had lifted the spirits of the entire crew.

As you gathered your things and bid goodbye to the team, you noticed a familiar figure walking toward you with a tired smile—Yoon Jeonghan.

“CEO Yoon!” people greeted him with respect as he approached, exchanging pleasantries with the crew. You overheard the director speaking with him.

“Are you here for Y/n?” the director asked, shaking hands with Jeonghan.

Jeonghan nodded, his expression warm but focused. “Yes, is the shoot finished?”

You quickly grabbed your bag and approached the two of them. “Thank you for today, director,” you said, bowing politely.

The director smiled, nodding in return. “You did a great job today. Have a good evening, Y/n. You too, CEO Yoon.”

As the director walked away, Jeonghan turned to you with a soft smile. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, grateful for his presence after such a long and draining day. Even after all these years, Jeonghan’s presence had a way of grounding you—reminding you that no matter how chaotic things got, you always had someone in your corner.

“Hyejin talked to me today,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence as Jeonghan drove you home.

“Shin Hyejin?” Jeonghan asked, glancing at you briefly.

You nodded. “Yep, your ‘ex’ who loves pampering me.”

Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s not an ex. We just met a few times back in the day.”

Raising an eyebrow, you shot him a playful look. “But she sure thought you two were dating.”

A heavy sigh escaped Jeonghan, followed by another chuckle. “I’m really sorry about that, then,” he said, amused at the absurdity of it all. “People see what they want to see, I guess.”

He changed the subject quickly, his voice light and teasing. “I noticed Jeon Wonwoo sent you a food truck today. He’s such a sweetheart, isn’t he?”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone. “We’re just friends, Jeonghan.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he quipped, clearly enjoying getting under your skin.

You sighed, leaning back in your seat. “He’s a great person. Kind, thoughtful, and sweet... but you know my problem.”

Jeonghan’s teasing smile faded, replaced with quiet understanding as his hand moved to rest gently on yours. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay,” he said softly, referring to your struggle with avoidant attachment. “There’s no rush. No need to worry. You’ve been through a lot, and you get to take your time.”

You appreciated the warmth in his words and the fact that he always seemed to know how to calm your anxieties. While people like Wonwoo were kind, it was Jeonghan’s constant presence and unwavering support that had always grounded you. You didn’t need to explain yourself around him. He just got you.

As the car cruised through the quiet streets, you found yourself lost in thought, staring out the window while Jeonghan’s steady presence filled the space next to you. The city lights blurred by, and you suddenly wondered, When did this happen?

When had Jeonghan become such an integral part of your life? It wasn’t just that he was your manager; it was the way he was always there—at every high and low, quietly supporting you, guiding you through the mess of the industry. You didn’t know when it had shifted, but at some point, he had surrounded your life fully. Every big decision, every major step, Jeonghan had been there, solid as ever.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He was focused on the road, his face calm and composed, just like always. But you couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and confusion. How had he managed to be so deeply woven into the fabric of your life without you even realizing it?

His dedication to his work was something that had always amazed you. He wasn’t just a manager who worked the hours and did the minimum; Jeonghan breathed the industry. His passion was palpable, the way he fought for his artists, the way he handled crises with a cool head and quick thinking. Even when things were overwhelming, he never seemed to waver.

You had always admired that about him. It was part of why you never allowed yourself to rest, why you kept pushing yourself to be better. You wanted to prove to him—and maybe to yourself—that you were as passionate as he was, that you could match his fire. Sometimes you felt like you were chasing that, trying to live up to the standard he set, even if it wore you out.

But tonight, sitting next to him in the quiet hum of the car, you found yourself questioning more than just your career.

Was that all it was? Admiration? Dedication to your work?

Or was there something else? A deeper reason why you felt this way whenever you were around him. Why his opinion of you mattered so much. Why, when he placed his hand on yours earlier, you felt a sense of calm you hadn’t felt in a long time.

You shifted in your seat, feeling a flutter of unease mixed with something you weren’t sure you wanted to name just yet. What am I feeling for him?

Jeonghan had always been your constant, but lately, that constant presence felt heavier. More significant. And the more you questioned it, the more confusing it became. You didn’t want to ruin things. Didn’t want to blur the lines between the professional and whatever this was growing between you. But could you keep pretending you didn’t feel it?

"Jeonghan?" you called softly, your voice almost uncertain.

He glanced at you, surprised by the tone in your voice. “Yeah?”

You hesitated. What am I supposed to say? The words were on the tip of your tongue, but instead, you forced a smile and shook your head.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, turning back to the window, your thoughts more tangled than ever.

Jeonghan didn’t press, but the question lingered in your mind long after the car ride was over.

*

Jeonghan shouldn’t have done that.

It was 9 a.m., and Jeonghan had his head buried in his hands at his desk, staring at the article that had just been published. Not just about you—but about both of you. His face might have been blurred in the pictures, but anyone with half a brain could tell it was him. The caption was vague, but the implications were clear: rumors of a secret relationship between you and him were already spreading like wildfire.

Why did I kiss her last night?

Jeonghan replayed the events over and over in his head, the regret gnawing at him like a bad headache. After driving you to your new place, the drive had been oddly quiet. Something had felt off, so he’d asked if everything was okay, checking on you a few times. You’d nodded, but your silence said otherwise.

When he’d parked and walked around to open the door for you, that’s when it happened.

“Jeonghan,” you’d called his name, standing in front of him with a look he couldn’t quite place. “I don’t like Wonwoo.”

Jeonghan had blinked, caught off guard. He wasn’t sure what had prompted that, especially after teasing you about Wonwoo earlier. But what you said next stopped him cold.

“I think I like you.”

His breath had hitched. You... liked him? No, that couldn’t be right. After all these years? He could hardly believe it, and neither, it seemed, could you.

You quickly corrected yourself, shaking your head as if trying to sort through your own confusion. “No, I think it’s just admiration. But… I don’t know. Admiration can lead to liking someone, right? But I honestly don’t know.”

Jeonghan had stood frozen, staring into your eyes. He watched the way your expression shifted from uncertainty to something deeper, something vulnerable. And before he could stop himself, before he could think about the consequences, his gaze fell to your lips.

And he kissed you.

You weren’t drunk. Neither was he. You were both fully aware of what you were doing, yet Jeonghan still couldn’t fathom where he’d found the courage to close the gap between you after fifteen years of friendship. Why did you suddenly confess to him? Was it because you’d been living under his roof for the past few weeks? Had the proximity stirred something inside you?

Now, the aftermath was crashing down on him. He wasn’t just your friend—he was the CEO of a company with a reputation to uphold. He couldn’t afford to be entangled in a scandal like this, not with you at the center of it.

Jeonghan was snapped out of his thoughts by his secretary’s voice, pulling him back to reality.

“You can be honest with me, sir. Are you two dating?” she pressed, clearly curious. She was one of the few people who knew about the close bond between the two of you, and she had probably been speculating for a while.

Jeonghan sighed, avoiding the question. Instead, he asked, “Where is she?”

His voice softened instinctively when asking about you, something his secretary didn’t miss. She checked her phone, scrolling through messages. “Her manager said she just woke up and hasn’t seen any of this yet. Apparently, she left her phone somewhere…”

She paused, smirking slightly. “Somewhere in your car.”

Jeonghan waved her off, feeling a mixture of exasperation and amusement. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment as he let out a deep sigh. He needed to figure out what to do next—and fast.

An official statement would have to be released soon, but the bigger question remained: what was going to happen between the two of you now?

“Let’s just say we’re dating,” you blurted out, and Jeonghan immediately choked on nothing.

“We’re not dating,” he stated flatly, eyes wide in disbelief.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to date?”

The conversation had suddenly taken a sharp turn, the heat of the moment making it hard to think straight. Thankfully, no one was around to witness the embarrassment unfolding in Jeonghan’s office.

“Don’t say that!” he exclaimed, panic lacing his voice.

“Why not?” You tilted your head, smirking slightly. “Are you suddenly chickening out after kissing me last night? Or do you kiss all your artists, Yoon Jeonghan?”

Jeonghan scowled, thoroughly offended by your accusation. “Is that what you think of me? Wow.”

You shook your head, teasing him more than you probably should. “No, but now I understand why Hyejin misunderstood things.”

Frustrated, Jeonghan threw his hands in the air. “Me and Hyejin were nothing, I told you.”

“Okay, but what about you and me?” you asked, voice softer, but your question hit harder than you’d intended.

Jeonghan’s heart pounded in his chest, suddenly at a loss for words. It wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to say—it was that he was terrified. Scared that if he told you the truth, you’d run away from him.

I love you.

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration growing as he watched you grin in satisfaction. This woman...

“Please, consider everything before you speak. What about your fans? The shippers for your drama?” Jeonghan was grasping for any reason to keep things under control, even though the situation was spiraling fast.

You shrugged, entirely too nonchalant for his liking. “I don’t know. Let’s see their reaction then.”

Jeonghan crossed his arms and sighed, already feeling defeated. “Alright, fine. Let’s release a statement saying we’re dating—for now. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Your smile grew wider, head tilting as you gave him a look that made his heart race even faster.

“Jeonghan,” you said softly, catching his attention.

“What?”

“I don’t think I just like you.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his breath catching in his throat.

“I think I love you.”

He bit his inner cheek, feeling like he was about to lose his mind. This woman is going to be the death of me.

[mochinomnoms]

Do you think humans in twisted wonderland have periods? What if they don't...

What if AFAB!Yuu is the only one in twisted wonderland to have periods and it freaks everyone out

Evolutionarily speaking it would make sense for the humans in twisted wonderland to reabsorb the unused egg for extra fuel for magic

[cw] - discussion of periods/afab!Yuu but still written as gn [wc} - 1,792 Added the rest under readmore as it got a bit long. I think there's a fic somewhere on here with this idea, but I can't remember the blog or name, I'll edit and link it later if I find it. I can see the point of the egg being reabsorbed, though personally I think TWST humans are biologically the same as Earth humans, minus the ones with magic maybe having a bit stronger/heighten senses and strengths. After all, there are plenty of humans who aren't magic, I think it's mentioned some point in their book 2 or book 5 that a majority of the population is either magicless or aren't privy to the privilege of formal magical education.

Even if a majority of the human population is magic, there's still a good chunk of them that don't and if that's the case then they at least would have periods.

However, that's explicitly the human population, and in reality it makes absolutely no sense for beastmen or merfolk to have periods. Especially when they have things like heat/ruts or mating cycles. Fae I think would actually make the most sense for the headcanon you're mentioning! They are completely and utterly magic, made from the magic of the earth, animals, and flora given sentience and forms. They are utterly magic, through, and through, so it would make sense for those with uteri to recycle the egg back into them for magical fuel.

And say we're going with the assumption that there are no other afab students in the school, or there are, but they're only beastmen, merfolk, and/or fae, then an afab!Yuu comes as quite a shock.

The beastmen are the first to notice something off with them, as they have the most acute sense of smell. This is followed by a very close second with the merfolk (particularly the predacious ones) and an even closer third by the fae. All the boys from those dorms, minus Lilia who's lived long enough to know what a period is, clock in on their friend who reeks of blood and flesh (because you're also shedding pieces of your uterine lining).

Lord help you, as you're in a crowded area, the cafeteria, with not only them but the rest of their classmates that also smell your blood, because their immediate thought is that you're fucking dying.

Sebek is surprisingly the first to launch himself at you, shouting at the top of his lungs, “WHERE IS YOUR INJURY HUMAN?! YOU ARE SEVERELY INJURED YOU SHOULD BE IN THE INFIRMARY—” Before he is yanked off by a wide-eyed Jack, who's looking more and more like the dead as he leans down to sniff at you.

The blood from his face drains (ha) as he turns to look at Leona and Ruggie, as well as a small group of other beastmen—friend's you've made during the tournament—and nods. This causes them to all look horrified and gaze at you like a wounded puppy. Minus Leona, who just looks amused.

“It's coming from them.”

Still confused, you stare at the Heartslabyul group—who'd been eating breakfast with you—in bewilderment. They also look at you in confusion, except for Riddle, the latter of which pinches the bridge of his noses and takes a deep sigh.

“I think you're all being a bit dramatic, they're just on their—”

“DRAMATIC? I DON'T THINK YOU'RE BEING DRAMATIC ENOUGH!”

Floyd grabs you from behind, spinning you and shoving his face so close to yours that you noses are smushed together.

“Shrimpy… you gotta tell me who did it, cause I could tell from aaaaall the way in the hallway that ya hurt. Com'on! Tell Floydie, I promise I won't be mad.”

Jade placed a hand on his brother's shoulder as he leans down to chastise Floyd.

“Not now Floyd, the poor thing is hurt, we should take them to the infirmary. Then we can hunt down the dreadful soul that hurt our friend and have them trade their spot.”

You felt yourself being lifted from the ground, yelping and latching your arms around Floyd's neck as he cradles you in his arms. Effectively yanking you from Jack's grip, who immediately growls.

“Floyd! Be careful!”

“Ehhh? Yeah that sounds like a great idea! Let's go now, I'm itching for a good fight, ayhehehe!”

Leona and Riddle shared a look, the former sighed to try and explain.

“Look you idiots, they're not injured, they're—”

“What are you waiting for?” Ruggie interrupted him, annoyed by Leona's unconcerned attitude, instead gesturing to Floyd. “Let's go before they bleed out even more!”

The small group clamored out of the cafeteria, a few more concerned students following after them as they started to hear bits and pieces of the conversation. Leaving Leona and the others in the dust. Deuce piped up.

“… Uh, do they not know—”

“No, most beastmen aren't familiar with periods.”

“I'm guessing merfolk and fae don't either, based on the twins and Sebek.” Riddle sighed, feeling sorry for you.

Leona's ears perked as he heard the shrill shriek of a certain octopus in the distance. Riddle and the others also seemed to hear it as they winced.

“Probably not…”

“…”

“… should we?”

“Yeah, we probably should, before my boys wreck the school. Let's get Crewel.”

It took a whole hour of you reassuring the small crowd that had formed around your bed in the infirmary before anyone calmed down. Floyd and Jade were being constantly pulled back into the infirmary by the ear by the nurse, who kept telling the two to stop trying to go beat up the imaginary person that, quote unquote, “hurt you”.

“What do you mean Shrimpy isn't hurt? I can smell the blood from all the way down the hall!”

“Yes, it's quite a potent scent, and distinct to our dear Prefect.” Jade held his hand to his chest as he sniffled. “We've smelled it before when they've gotten hurt, but this is a whole different level.”

“Yeah! Almost all of Savanaclaw could smell it” Ruggie nodded in agreement as Jack followed.

“They must be really hurt if we all could smell it from that far away! You need to help them nurse!”

Their voice's grew again in volume, Sebek in particular, as he vowed to also hunt down the “ruffian who would dare harm a fellow student on the campus Master Malleus attended!”

The nurse, growing more and more annoyed trying to corral the group (she wondered how ethical it would be to use a silencing spell and another to stick them to the ceiling), sighed in relief as the echo of Crewel's whip commanded immediate silence.

“Oh, thank the Sundrop, Professor Crewel, please control them. I am up to here with their foolishness—”

“Foolish? The Prefect might be dying!” Azul cried out, surprisingly attached to your side. She'd tried to yank him off of you earlier, but was met with a shocking amount of strength as his grip on the metal bed frame caused an Azul-sized hand indent to form. His strength, easy to forget in his slender frame. Now, he was trying his best to coax the name of the student responsible with promises of free drinks and discounted food.

“No I'm not!” You cried out in exasperation. “I've been trying to tell you, but y'all won't listen!”

As you tried to get up from the bed, trapped in a blanket cocoon made by Azul, the boys started up again. Half urging you to stay in bed and rest, while the other half argued with the nurse, and now Crewel, about healing you up.

A near ear-shattering rumble of thunder caused another silence to fall over everyone. This time, though, the group shrunk into themselves as Malleus, standing proud and tall, entered the room. Sebek perked up, rushing over to meet him.

“Young Master! I've ensured that the human was taken to the infirmary, but so far they've refused any healing—”

“Thank you, Sebek. I will speak to them myself.”

Malleus, his school jacket flourishing behind him (one of the students murmured that he felt like a background character in a romance movie), flew to your side. Where you had been squirming your upper body out of the blanket cocoon, smacking at Azul's hands as he kept attempting to swaddle you back in.

Now freed waist up, you turned to face Malleus, who had elegantly kneeled down by your bedside (you could hear Sebek muffled a shriek) and held your hand like a delicate piece of china.

“Child of Man, my friend, what happened? Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?” Malleus cooed at you, green eyes peering into yours, full of concern.

So it was a surprise to everyone in the room when you groaned, which morphed into a soft scream.

“Uh… Child of Man?”

“I'm fiiiiiine!” You sighed, slumping back into the bed. “I'm just on my period, you guys.”

The room remained quiet, a bit too quiet as you lifted your head back up to look at the room of confused looking men. Crewel had a hip cocked as he looked unimpressed over the crowd. The nurse was rubbing her temples. You heard Azul clear his throat, drawing his attention as he asked,

"What's a period?"

Finally, the crowd had settled, all of them huddled around your bed as you tried your best to explain what a menstral cycle was.

"So you like, bleed every month? Randomly?"

"Amount 28 days, so once a month yeah. And now it's not random, it's part of the reproductive cycle. It's my body preps for a new egg—"

"But, I though humans didn't lay eggs?" Floyd asked, leaning against Azul's right shoulder.

"We don't, it's different the egg turns into a baby itself so there's no egg to lay—"

Ruggie spoke up, "We get that, but I don't get why the egg makes you bleed? It can't do that can it?"

"No, no, no. It's not the egg itself, it's my body. In order for the egg to get fertilize it needs a good environment to grow, so the uterus grows a fresh lining once a month for the egg to latch on to, so—"

You sighed as once of the other fae students interrupted.

"Fresh lining? Like, the skin? Of the uterus?"

You nodded, trying to keep your patience as you attempted to explain to your friends that, no, you were in fact not bleeding to death.

"Yes, that's the blood, the skin is shedding to make a fresh one for the next egg."

You don't think it's working, as that last sentence caused a wave of mortifcation amongst the crowd.

"That... sounds like it hurts." Malleus, still holding your hand, softly asked. "You're not hurting though, correct?"

Pursing your lips, you looked up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. Wow had that cobweb always been in that corner?

"Yuu."

Malleus's voice, calling out your name for once, was full of questioning.

"Yeah Horns?"

"it doesn't hurt, correct?"

You started whistling a little tune, studying the dirt under your nails.

"Dear Prefect," Jade this time. "Answer the question?"

The group leaned in closer as you grumbled under your breath.

"Speak up Shrimpy."

".........not always."

"Come on, stop being shy, you act like a puppy most of the time" Ruggie was getting annoyed.

".....cramps..not move...not always."

"It's okay Yuu, you can say it." Azul cooed.

"...Sometimes the cramps makes it hurt too much to move, but not always."

You braced yourself as the crowd once again riled up.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT HURTS TOO MUCH TO MOVE?"

The nurse off to the side still, leaned over to tell Crewel, "I told you we needed an interspecies health class."

hehe this was fun, comments appreciated. I may be inclined to write more since writing different between species like this is fun

[yan-lorkai]

Hi hi

So, I was talking to a friend about a scenario in which Lilia is obsessed with his beloved wife and their unborn child.

Do you think you can do something like this?

(obs:eu duvido 👀)

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Well, it's done. Dad Lilia always make my heart beats a little quickly, he is such a funny dad imo. Duvida, é? 👀 Bem, espero que goste!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, pregnancy, afab!reader

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Lilia suffered a lot because of the war. He lost Meleanor, he lost Levan, he had to travel for years on end to search for a way to hatch Malleus's egg. But finally after so many years, he got his happy ending with you, his beloved and your child, growing inside your womb slowly. It's refreshing in a way. He is a father, he got all the experience but it's his first time being a father to a child who got his blood and genes.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He is very helpful. He likes to fluff your pillows, to wrap your blankets around you burrito style, to help you bathe and dress, he massage your feet and shoulders, he even spoon-feed you if you let him. He gets overwhelming very quickly because he doesn't let you do anything alone or the way you want if he consider too "dangerous" - which is... Pretty much anything. He is a helicopter dad, watching your every move, reading the slightest secret hidden on your voice. He won't have you getting injured because you are stubborn, he is glued to you for nine whole months.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Lilia know that the pregnancy hormones may make you sad or angry, but he knows just how to soothe you, having already dealt with Meleanor years before, even if you two are a little different in temper. And he is very good at calming you down. He wipes your tears while professing his love for you again and again, kissing your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, everywhere his lips can touch.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He loves staring at you. He loves watching how your body is changing, how you're glowing, he specially love your bump. He compliments and praises you a lot, he can goes on and on for hours on end.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He has a list of names already. There's plenty of variation between names, some tend to have a more fae-ish origin while others are more common, he is sure that you will be able to find a name that suits the little one growing inside your womb. He also like to talk to the little one too, he cracks jokes and tell them stories about him and their brothers, he even sing to them when they start to kick.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When you go into labour, Lilia is there, holding your hand, encouraging you to push, wiping the sweat from your forehead, and when you do give birth to your firstborn, he watches you hold your child and he burst crying loudly, hiccuping. It's too beautiful to take. The domesticity, the warmth feeling on his chest, he can't take it. And he loves it.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Be your child a girl or a boy, Lilia will take good care of them. He'll guide you through every step of motherhood with happiness, loving to see you holding your child carefully against your chest as you two lay on your bed. It's a sight he will never forget about, he even take a photo. He even make an album full of them. He is that obsessed.

[allthewhumpygoodness]

Other Stuff that can happen in "stagnant" whump fics

So I've been thinking about something and wanted to share it as an open conversation. A lot of the time my writing block when writing whump or sickfic comes from like...what can actually happen in the course of the story. Especially since my stuff tends towards the longer side (I'm a chronic overwriter), it's hard to keep things...interesting I guess? And I find my writing suffers when my Tales Of Woe don't have much structure to them.

(I say this as someone who writes primarily sickfic, or recovery-based stories that are caretaker/whumpee focused, with little or no whumper involvement, so that's what I'll be focused on here. Certainly if you're writing something like a character being held in captivity and tortured/attempting escape/encountering other prisoners/being searched for, you've already got plenty going on and probably don't have this issue at all.)

So I've made a list of Stuff That Can Happen during your whump/sick fic. If you would like. Of course, there will always be a market for stories that are mostly the same level of suffering and nothing else is really the focus, but if you do find you struggle with this like I do, this list might be for you.

Character arcs/Internal/social shifts:

1 caretaker, their relationship to the whumpee strengthens

1 caretaker, they find themselves growing apart from the whumpee

2 or more caretakers, there are complicated dynamics between all of them + the whumpee that shift around

Eg; there's a whumpee and 3 others, Caretaker A forms a closer relationship with Whumpee throughout the story, Caretaker B *was* close with them before but finds their place now "usurped" by A, Caretaker C tries to keep the peace between them while also helping out Whumpee

A caretaker realizes they're better at Caretaking than they'd thought

A caretaker realizes they're not as good at Caretaking as they'd thought

Whumpee realizes they have romantic feelings for Caretaker (or vice versa)

Whumpee discovers they only like Caretaker as a friend (or vice versa)

Whumpee learns to trust Caretaker (s)

Caretaker (s) learn to trust Whumpee

There was a previous misunderstanding (about their feelings for one another, their loyalties, an action taken from one of them etc.) between Whumpee and Caretaker (or between more than one caretaker) that gradually gets resolved

A misunderstanding occurs within the story that builds and is then resolved

One caretaker has to convince another to be honest with Whumpee about this misunderstanding (or has to convince Whumpee to be honest with Caretaker)

Someone unexpected arrives at the scene; whether that be a rival, a friend or family member of the whumpee, a potential other caretaker, or Whumper

Perhaps this is a relief for the caretaker, who needs a break

Or it's a stranger who causes tension in the situation

Maybe the caretaker knows this person is coming and is stressed out waiting for them

Physical/symptomatic shifts:

Whumpee is found injured and unconscious, and wakes up being cared for - their wounds later become infected, leading to a much longer recovery

Whumpee's condition quickly worsens

Whumpee steadily becomes delirious

Whumpee is feverish and goes from feeling freezing cold to boiling

Whumpee feverishly tries to stumble out of bed and into a different room (searching for Caretaker? trying to find a warmer spot?), and are found before, as, or after they collapse

Adding illness to injury: Whumpee is dealing with an injury, only to get sick, or sick only to also become hypothermic, they have heatstroke and then get hurt etc. Compounding whump.

Environmental shifts:

A caretaker could leave temporarily out of necessity, leaving whumpee and/or other caretaker(s) worried about them until they return

The weather changes (worsens? gets better? worsens and then gets better? gets better and then worsens?)

The characters have to shift locations for some reason

An important resource is run out of

Something necessary is destroyed or partially destroyed

A doctor/medic needs to be called

Somebody else becomes sick, injured, or lands in some other danger

Whumpee's newest symptom requires a different type of medicine than what they've been taking up until now, possibly one the caretaker doesn't have

The characters are in an intense situation (in hiding, in a warzone, on the run, trying to escape a natural disaster etc.) and the stakes suddenly become much higher due to something related to this

Maybe there's a flood and the waters have reached their safe spot

Maybe whumpee is some enemy they're sheltering in secret and members of their team/army/etc. come searching for them

There's lots more I could add and I'm not sure if this is explained in the best way, but there you have it.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x F!reader, established relationship, flashback friends to lovers WC:1.6K

A/N: So I'm a super sentimental person and I adore keepsakes so it got me thinking of a certain kind of keepsake reader would love to get her hands on and how it came to be in her possession. No smut in this one but my blog is strictly 18+. Enjoy!

"Babe..."

You weren't paying enough attention when he called out to you, too busy trying to clean up around your room to notice Eddie sorting through the box you stored under your bed. The one that housed all your keepsakes – ticket stubs from movies you'd seen together, napkins he'd doodled on, crumpled up early drafts of songs he'd written, all the little trinkets he'd gifted you over the years and more of the like.

But then Eddie pulls out something you'd forgotten he didn't known about yet, something that sat at the very bottom of the nearly overflowing box, a secret you were yet to share.

"Is this my hair?"

That gets your attention like a crowbar to the knee, eyes snapping to the lock of dark curled hair held together with thin black ribbon, dangling from between his thumb and index finger as he held it up for you to see.

"Oh, that..."

~

The first time you set foot in Hawkins was three years ago for your senior year. It was a few weeks into the move that you found yourself upholding a promise you'd made to your classmate Ronnie Ecker, a promise to come out Friday night and watch her band play at one of the local dives, the Hideout.

You were happy to go, thankful for the lifeline that was Ronnie's friendship in a town where you knew no one else. None of the others could be assed to befriend the new girl when graduation was just around the corner, everyone set to go their separate ways soon after.

The invitation sounded exciting nonetheless, even making you genuinely intrigued to see what the underground music scene was like in this grungy corner of Hawkins.

That night you were hit with the stale smell of cigarette smoke and bitter alcohol that commonly permeated establishments like this. You held your breath for as long as you could manage while you navigated the bar carefully, hoping the aroma won't cling to your hair once it was time to head back home.

Soon enough you found some space near the very front of the little stage, shuffling through to stand shoulder to shoulder with a modest crowd.

To say you found them intimidating would be an understatement. All of them unfamiliar and unsmiling and those who weren't tossing back hard liquor, chugged frosty beers right out of the bottle while decked out in dark leather and ripped denim. Cigarettes burned hot between their scowling lips too as plenty of ink and silver adorned their skin.

Looking around, you quietly wished Ronnie had clued you in on what to wear to these kinds of things. You didn't want the attention that came with standing out, hoping your suede jacket and fluttery lilac dress, not to mention your complete lack of any tattoos or piercings, wouldn't draw any looks.

Yet, despite hoping for the best and even resorting to standing still enough so as to avoid any kind of detection like some kind of poor injured prey in the wild, that nasty bite of self consciousness zeroed in on you and clenched its teeth down on you bone deep when you happened to catch the way one of the waitresses' gaze hung on you.

Her glittering pierced eyebrow climbed higher than the other while the corner of her jet black lipstick painted mouth fell into a half frown of sorts as she looked you up and down. Her eyes full of daggers, it was entirely unsubtle and unmistakable how out of place you looked to her as she returned to clearing a nearby table, dealing one final blow when she bows her head and begins to shake it disdainfully, her red dyed hair swishing gently from the motion.

'you should have known better than to show up here looking like you do'. You could read it plain as day on her disapproving pale face.

There were no real words exchanged but it was hard not to wither on the spot once she'd strut away, reminded once again of how much you didn't really feel like you belonged in Hawkins let alone the Hideout.

Smudging your own lipstick by nervously chewing on your bottom lip, it takes a lot to suppress the fleeting urge to make a break for the exit, your anxiety quietened somewhat once the lights suddenly dimmed and the band started to emerge on stage.

You met Ronnie's eye instantly and aimed a quick wave in her direction as she took her place behind the drums, her toothy grin directed back at you in return along with a friendly wink.

That was when you got a look at the rest of the band for the very first time. Each one stepped up under the amber yellow lights, making final adjustments to their instruments while you scanned them all.

It was their front man who held your attention though when he took his place behind the mic, thick guitar strap slung around his neck and chunky silver rings catching the light as he adjusted the mic stand to match his height.

You were yet to know his name. His real name anyway, refusing to refer to him by any of the monikers your classmates had dubbed him. But all those thoughts about the whispers that surrounded him, the hushed tones of 'devil worshipper' and 'town freak' went mute in your head when his honey brown eyes fell on you.

They weren't icy and cruel or quick to dismiss like most of the people you'd come to know in this town. Instead there was something distinctly warm and inviting about his wide eyed gaze, enough to make you feel more at ease than you had when you first arrived.

At least now there was one more person who seemed happy to see you.

His voice was unlike what you'd heard before too, smooth, smoky and surprisingly soulful while his fingers played fluidly over the fretboard of his flashy guitar, faster than you thought possible as your cheers echoed loudest amongst the crowd, genuinely impressed with how they were performing.

Especially him.

Up until now you'd known him mostly for the theatrics he pulled in the lunch room. Scaling the lunch tables and provoking hungry jocks by hurling clever insults along with shit eating grins and raised middle fingers. To know this was the same boy performing on stage in front of you now was a little jarring to say the least.

The whole set was so unlike any of the other musical performances you've ever seen before, even the handful of concerts you'd been able to see with your friends back home. Unable to help yourself, you grew so much more excited every time his eyes connected with yours and smiled, like he'd been seeking you out in the crowd, everyone else inconsequential.

Fuck, he looked at you like the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle - perfectly placed in front of him in a space that was meant only for you.

When it came to the final song of their set you weren't surprised that he was able to nail his electrifying solo with apparent ease, headbanging throughout it with his long, curly hair whipping in every direction. Thinking it had to be the highlight of the performance you grew from giddy to stunned as you watched him reach behind the amp during the final beats of the song, pulling out what looked to be a pair of clippers as he held it up for the audience to see.

It struck you then that this is what Ronnie must have alluded to you when she'd first asked you to come and attend. 'He really wants to make an impression, you know? we all do. And well, you've got to come out and see it for yourself', was how she had put it, practically luring you to the bar with how mysterious she'd made it all sound.

With your breath held, you watched him flick it on, raising the whirring clippers with no hesitation and running the blades across the side of his head in one clean stripe, strands of his long hair falling away like the first sign of snow.

It was hard not to be enthralled as the dark curls littered the stage in little tendrils, more falling as he kept shaving at the side of his head.

Staring at the dark hair on stage as the crowd broke into drunken cheers and whistles, you reacted a little differently from everyone else, growing silent while others grew louder.

The longer you stared the less you could help yourself.

In that moment you gave into a burst of impulse, reaching forward to snatch back a handful of hair and stuffed the locks into your pocket before you could even figure out why you'd done it.

No one had seen you do it, thankfully. His hair remained in your jacket pocket even while Ronnie introduced you to him later, trying not to stare at the freshly buzzed cut on the left side of his head, thankful he hadn't committed to shaving it all off because he really did have a nice head of hair.

You couldn't quite explain what had made you do it, only that you felt compelled to do so. But now here you were, two years into your relationship, just glad to have a part of him with you at all times.

"Guess I'm just your biggest fan", you shrugged with a smile that makes Eddie grin back at you

"You gonna give me some of yours then?", he asks, eyes hopeful as you deepen your smile at him in return.

"Get the scissors"

[totallybakedcake]

Boyfriend headcanons kaiju no 8 boys

Reno

Whenever you both are outside training or near anyone, he does nothing more affectionate than holding your hand at most, but when you both are at home, he does not let go of you. Back hugging you and snuggling into you. It's his favorite thing to do.

He loves to be the little spoon while cuddling. He always wants to be in your embrace while sleeping, or else he cannot sleep all night. "Name, can we please cuddle? I had a rough day." He says in such an adorable voice that how could you deny him?

He is a great cook and always makes you mouth-watering dishes to eat all day. He just loves seeing you enjoy his dishes and eat them so cutely.

He loves at-home dates. He just loves watching any movies, shows, or anime you want to watch as he cuddles you. When you both had your anniversary and you were in the mood for something fancy, he decorated the living room with flowers, teddy bears, chocolates, and gifts to surprise you. 

Hoshina

He absolutely loves it when you pamper him with all your affection. Cupping his face. Giving him onslaught kisses, burying your head in his neck. Whenever he thinks about that, His day becomes one of the best.

Hoshina is an overly protective boyfriend. The moment he comes home, he checks your body for any wounds. Whenever he even sees you interact with one of the juniors, he makes sure the both of you don't talk for more than 3 minutes, or else the game is over. He makes sure you feel safe and protective.

Hoshina loves giving you a flower and chocolate every day. He always has a bundle of chocolates with him and goes to a local flower shop to get you any cute flower.

He loves picnic dates and afternoon dates. He loves to take you to a quiet park. Lay down a blanket and rest in your lap as you and him talk for hours and hours. Picnic dates are usually in the morning, as he likes to take you out on brunches too. 

Kafka

He is the most affectionate boyfriend. He gives you many warm hugs every day. He loves to kiss your temple as you relax on top of him.

He loves hearing you talk. Your voice is just so comforting. He brings you to his lap and burys his face in your neck as you talk about anything.

He does not show his jealous side, as he knows you are loyal to him, but one thing he makes sure of is that you have a healthy routine. If he does not know that you have eaten well, slept well, and are drinking plenty of water, he has to check up on you because his mind keeps thinking about you.

Even though he does not look like it. Kafka is a fancy man. He takes you out to fancy restaurants to eat at on dates. He always has a private reservation ready for you and him. After all, your happiness is Kafka's happiness.

Gen

Gen has made you obsessed with gaming too. After all, games are addicting. He got you all kinds of gaming consoles and game figures to play with him.

A lot, meaning everyone asks you. Why choose Gen? An irresponsible captain who has such an attitude and is careless, but what they haven't seen is Gen's soft side. He makes sure you are okay. He cannot focus on anything unless you are safe. Once on a Kaiju mission when you got injured. Gen stayed up all night. Not touching his games or electronics once, as he needed to take care of you and make sure you were safe. Not letting you go on a mission unless you are recovered.

Even if he is loyal. He is the most jealous person ever. He knows your beauty and your aura, which makes people gravitate towards you. So, he makes sure to have you near him at all times, not letting you even talk to a guy in peace.

He loves arcade dates and karaoke dates, but if you don't want to go there, He takes you to amusement parks and water parks. Gen loves an adventure.

Hey yall. First ever post on tumblr so the writing may be tacky and awkward cause I wrote this in the middle of the night but I couldn't stop myself from writing for kaiju no 8 after finishing the whole manga in 4 days.

Have a great day!