#batbabies

Wren and Gideon giggle like maniacs as Cassian uses them as weights while he bicep curls the two younglings, their wings flapping excitedly. His skin gleams under the hot sun and you can’t help but admire his bulging muscles and sweat stained brow as he smiles down at the cousins.

Your mate is a hell of a male, standing tall and proud, like this is the best training he’s gotten in his life, minus the stamina training in the bedroom he does with you. A family man these days, but still in the best shape of his life.

Rhysand is across the ring, laying flat on his back, his own son cradled in his hands as he slowly lowers him with such control, then presses Nyx back up into the sky, beaming down at his father.

And Azriel, with Baz on his shoulders, doing squats as their shadows tangle and twine around them in what you assume is the shadowsinger trying to teach his son defense.

It’s a sight to behold, all the children of the Inner Circle spending quality time with their fathers. While they were still too young to start training of their own, they reveled in the fact that they could help in one way or another.

“Mommy, look,” Gideon yells excitedly, catching your attention. You were trying to stay hidden by the staircase leading back to the house, but had gotten distracted as your heart swelled with such love seeing your mate and his son like this.

“Wow Giddy, look at you,” you cheer, and because you can’t help yourself you tickle your son on his exposed armpits, grinning widely as he shrieks with laughter and kicks his feet.

“Woah, be careful now,” Cassian warns playfully, extending his arm so he doesn’t catch one of his sons’ feet in his nether regions. That very thing had happened once and while he was proud to say that his son had a strong foot, the pain he would remember for a long while.

You snag your son, Wren lowered to the ground and scampering off to question his father, holding him tightly in your arms and kissing his round cheeks over and over. He squeals with delight, hugging you tightly around your neck.

“Daddy,” he screeches, “Help me!”

Your mate only laughs, tucking the both of you into his arms in a bear hug, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead and sending warmth down the bond.

“Giddy,” Wren calls from where he, Nyx, and his brother stand by the stairs, Baz’s hand tucked securely in his own, “Baz says there’s fresh cookies downstairs!”

“Coming!” your son calls, wriggling in your arms and you share a look with your mate. Those shadows were something else, Mother knew. Az had already made his way to where the children were, talking to his sons while you set your own down and he went running towards them.

“I better go chaperone the cookie tray,” you comment, watching as Gideon joins the group, the four of them disappearing quickly down the stairs. 

Cassian catches your hand as you turn to go, pulling you back into his chest and squeezing you tightly for a moment, lips pressed firmly against yours and taking your breath away. 

“Save me one,” he winks, sending you off with a shit-eating grin and a pinch to your hind.

“Oh I’ll save you something alright,” you call over your shoulder, unable to bite back your smile.

“The two of you just need to find a different time of day to spend together,” I say, “maybe in the afternoons or early in the mornings. He’s already starting to wake up early as if he needs to train too.”

Your mate smiles at that, loving the idea of training his son. Cassian even paid a seamstress to make tiny baby illyrian leathers for him. They won’t fit him for at least another year, though.

“I suppose. I could get him ready in the mornings and feed him breakfast before training.”

“Mhmm.”

Az smiles wider, already adjusting to this new plan. “Alright, it’s settled then. But if he wakes up at night, I’ve got dibs.”

You laugh, loving to see your husband like this, and loving even more the bonding happening between father and son. 

When your son was first born, Azriel was terrified of holding him. He was afraid he’d hurt the baby or that the faeling would be afraid of his scars. Oh, how wrong he was. Az is always perfectly careful with his son and the baby has come to love Azriel’s hands more than anyone else's. He finds a sort of comfort in the scars that identify his dad, always wanting to hold one of Azriel’s fingers.

His first word was even Papa, to no one’s surprise. So now, when he wakes up in the early hours of the morning, he calls out “Papa,” until Azriel, already half dressed, comes into his room and pulls him from the crib. 

They develop an easy routine in the mornings that you only know about from Azriel telling you later. Azriel starts getting ready before your son wakes up, but once he does, he drops everything and goes to get Y/S/N. They play quietly for a little while: with Azriel’s shadows, reading books, or just by themselves. 

Then Azriel changes his diaper and wiggle the baby into new clothes before feeding them both breakfast. Then, as quietly as a baby can manage, Y/S/N sits on your bed and babbles to your mate while he finishes getting ready. Once he learned how to crawl, though, he didn’t stay on the bed, preferring to follow Az around the room and act just like him.

When he learned to walk, it only got worse. He tried wearing his Illyrian leathers almost every day, even going as far as to paint a few rocks blue and glue them to the outfit. His mornings no longer end when Az goes to train because, with only one pouty face, he convinced your husband to take him with.

Now your son sits to the side while Azriel and his brothers train. It didn’t take long for them to give him training daggers or to try and teach him defensive moves. Azriel has never smiled as wide as he does when his son is having a good time.

So it’s no surprise to you that when you tell him you're pregnant again, he’s overjoyed to have another little one running around. You are a little surprised, though, that his joy doesn’t falter even a little bit when the baby is born a girl.

“Why wouldn’t I be happy to have a daughter?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Az. I just thought you wanted another son.”

He shrugs. “We already have Y/S/N; I want at least one of each.”

Your daughter becomes Azriel’s new nighttime occupation, but he still manages to get up extra early in the mornings with Y/S/N. Your son becomes super protective of the baby too, never wanting to leave her side. He holds her whenever someone’s around to supervise him and plays with her constantly.

When she’s old enough to move around, your son becomes her role model. The three of them look like a train. Az in front while Y/S/N marches behind, following his lead, and Y/D/N brings up the rear, usually with her blanky in hand.