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@imsandra
I'm Sandra, I'm 21 years old. Here.
ACOTAR
Azriel
I see → He see
A breath
The new beginning
Cassian
Kiss of War
Rhysand
Lucien Vanserra
The Great War
Eris Vanserra
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Rowan Whitethorn
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Fenrys Moonbeam
Gavriel
Destiny of Ash and Chaos series (CANCELED) Comming soon
updated: April 22, 2025
*dividers by @cafekitsune , thank you.
The new beginning
Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (It's more OC daughter)
Summary: The brightest light is sometimes born from the darkest corner of the soul.
Warning: Angst, nostalgia, fluff. I think that’s all—let me know if there's anything else I should add.
Word Count: 2,198
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this story about our boys. As always, feel free to share your thoughts, suggestions—everything is welcome as long as it's respectful and meant to help.
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes.
This is an original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.
I truly appreciate every comment, reblog, and like I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the bed where Azriel sat. Between his scarred fingers, he held a shining ring with a blue gemstone, surrounded by tiny stones like stars—a symbol of the one he once called his wife. Nights like this were the ones that hurt the most. There were days when he felt he didn’t deserve to live, nights when he longed desperately for the warmth of her body beside his.
He held the beautiful ring up to his eyes; the tiny sparkles of the gem reminded him of the light in her eyes when she was happy, when he made her laugh. They were only fleeting glimmers he wished had lasted forever.
But that would never happen again. There was no longer a "forever" together—not after he watched the life leave his beloved’s body.
“Listen to me…” Azriel whispered, his voice breaking. “Listen to me and come back, come home. Come back to me,” he begged as he held her body, rocking back and forth.
The pain tearing through his heart was unlike anything he had ever felt in his long life. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and in a moment, his beloved’s face was bathed in those warm drops.
Her face, so serene… Nothing disturbed her in that sweet slumber. And all Azriel could feel was each piece of his heart being ripped from his chest, how his soul slowly stopped singing.
“Please,” he begged once more. “Please, come back to me.”
Please. Please. Please.
There was no response. Her heart had stopped beating. Her cold body was all Azriel could feel—not warmth… only cold.
He opened the top drawer of the nightstand. In his free hand, he held the small velvet box that protected the one-of-a-kind piece he had commissioned just for her. He crawled beneath the sheets, pain his only companion. His shadows lingered throughout the room, drifting through Y/N’s belongings like it was the only routine they knew since she had gone.
Azriel sighed and closed his eyes. All he could see was her—all the little things she did that reminded him why he had fallen in love with his wife, his mate, his best friend, the love of his life, and the mother of his daughter. She would never come back.
The rays of the sun announced a new day. The sound of the door opening made him roll to the other side; he clung to the sheets like a small child. He wanted to stay in bed, but the voice of the person who interrupted his sleep broke the silence.
“I know you're awake,” she whispered, her voice full of resignation. “Today’s the big day. Nyx is being crowned and you're not ready,” the woman continued. She stepped further into the room and yanked the sheets away, just like Azriel used to do when she was little.
“Nira, leave me alone,” his voice, rough and hoarse from sleep, made his daughter laugh.
“I used to say the same thing when I was eight. Consider it my revenge.”
She couldn’t help but remember those times with her father. Everything looked so different back then. Her hero’s sense of humor had faded as she grew older. Every time her face reflected her mother’s… with the only exception being her eyes—hazel, just like her father's.
“Dad, come on. Rhys is going to come, and you don’t want him dragging you out of bed,” she continued, trying to convince him.
Azriel opened his eyes and felt his heart stop for a second. His daughter’s silhouette, bathed in sunlight, glowed like gold—like the most precious treasure he had: the constant reminder that, at the end of the day, someone was waiting for him to tell them about their day. But his little girl wouldn’t be waiting for him anymore.
“Just ten minutes and I’ll be downstairs,” Azriel murmured, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. His little whirlwind. Just a few years ago she had cried in his arms with chubby cheeks, and he hadn’t known how to walk that road. And now, she was a grown woman, taking care of her aging father.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said with a smile before leaving the room.
The spymaster got out of bed and walked straight to the shelf where he kept a small, simple black box. Just like him. He gently placed it into the pocket of his tunic.
Azriel looked at his reflection. Despite all the centuries he had lived, he still wasn’t used to wearing fancy clothes. The black suit with subtle golden embroidery was perfect for the occasion. He walked down the hallway, step by step, searching for where his daughter might be. Her presence was as familiar to him as the beat of his own heart. When he reached her side, he took the small box from his coat. Simple, unadorned. But the weight inside was immense.
“I want to give you this,” he said, holding it out.
She looked at him, puzzled, but took the box. She opened it carefully… and her breath caught.
A pendant. A stone of pure starlight, captured in a teardrop of carved crystal with impossible delicacy. The chain was dark, the color of the sky before a storm, and etched with details so subtle only someone like her would notice: lines of ancient runes. For protection.
“What is this?” she whispered.
“A part of me,” Azriel replied softly. “It’s forged from a fragment of my shadows. The first ones I ever learned to control.”
She looked up at him, surprised.
“The first ones?”
“The most stubborn ones. The ones that stayed when all the others left,” he said with a half-smile, though his voice carried something deeper. “I thought they might be useful to you.”
She closed her fingers tightly around the pendant.
“Why now?”
Azriel turned his gaze toward the window.
“Because now you’re building your own world. Because you’re leaving, in a way. And I want you to carry something that reminds you… that you’ll always have a home. That you can always come back. That I’ll always be here, even when you no longer need me.”
His words hit her harder than she expected. The kind of things he didn’t say lightly. The kind of love that wasn’t shouted, but felt deep in the skin.
“Dad…” her voice trembled.
He looked at her then, straight in the eyes. And for a moment, she saw the warrior, the spymaster of the Night Court… unarmed.
“You’ve become more than I ever dreamed of. Strong. Brilliant. Free. And now, you’re giving your life to someone else…” He paused. “But you’ll never stop being my little girl.”
The tear that slipped down her cheek was silent, but she didn’t hide it.
“No matter how much I grow, I’ll always need you.”
Azriel nodded. Then, he gently lifted the pendant and tied it around her neck. His fingers, hardened by training and time, were surprisingly soft.
“If you ever feel lost… touch it. My shadows will come to you.”
She hugged him. With enough strength to make his wings flare slightly, wrapping around her. As if they wanted to shield her from the entire universe. And he… he held her like he could still keep her safe in his arms. Like the world was a little less dark when she was near.
Father and daughter made their way to the Grand Palace for the celebration. Arms linked, for the last time.
The ceremony had already ended.
The night had stretched on with wine, soft music, and congratulations. The newlyweds were downstairs, surrounded by friends and family, but in one of the highest towers of the Palace, two shadows shared a glass of wine in silence.
Azriel didn’t drink much, but that night… that night, he did.
“I never thought we’d end up here,” Rhysand said, breaking the silence. “You giving your daughter away… and me gaining a daughter-in-law.”
Azriel shot him a sidelong glance, but the small curve of his lips betrayed his calm. The day he had to entrust his daughter to another man felt so distant now. That night when the light of his life was born was a memory he cherished more with each passing year, and now, the possibility of becoming a grandfather loomed closer.
“I never thought your son would survive his first training with Cassian.”
Rhys chuckled quietly, sipping from his glass. “He almost didn’t. But then he started flying before he turned two, and his mother didn’t let anyone take him away for weeks.”
“I remember,” Azriel said, turning the glass in his hands. “I remember when she spelled the nursery door so Cassian couldn’t sneak in and drag him off to train.”
Rhysand laughed again, but then fell silent. His expression grew more serious as he looked at his brother—not with the gaze of the High Lord, but just as Rhys. Simply Rhys.
“You know he’ll take care of her, right?”
Azriel took a second to answer. He’d known Nyx since he was a child; he had been just his nephew… until he wasn’t. Not once those blue eyes had landed on his little girl. From the moment they were old enough to admit their love.
“I know,” his rough voice betrayed him to Rhys. He didn’t know how long he could live in a house without the sound of Nira’s voice, her morning songs, and her nighttime jokes.
Rhys set his glass on the stone railing. “Nyx… he’s not like me. He’s softer in some ways. More of a dreamer. But when it comes to her, to your daughter… Azriel, I swear by the stars-damned sky, there is nothing he wouldn’t do for her.”
Azriel knew that. Even when his brother’s son had “saved her life” from an evil frog in the pond, or the time Nira scraped her knee from running too fast. That very afternoon, Nyx’s eyes hadn’t lied: the care in his hands as he helped her up, the way he healed her himself and told her everything would be okay… Azriel had known then.
“I saw it in his eyes. Since they were children.”
“You knew since then?”
“No,” he looked straight at him. “But one afternoon, I watched them from the window. My shadows confirmed it the next day.”
Rhys watched him in silence. There were so many unspoken words between them. Centuries of battles, of wounds and loyalties. But this… this was different. Their children would shape the next generation of the Night Court’s reign.
“She has your strength, Az,” Rhysand said softly. “But also your silence. Your way of seeing the world without saying a word… and still saying everything.”
Azriel looked up at the stars. They knew how often he’d begged them to give him the strength to keep going.
“It wasn’t always easy to care for her. Sometimes… it felt like she was the only thing anchoring me to the world. That if she ever disappeared, I would too.”
Rhys lowered his gaze in silent understanding. That night when Velaris had mourned those lost to that strange illness. The night his brother lost his wife and mate, and Rhysand lost a friend. A member of his family. Azriel had shut down completely. Feyre had cared for Nira until the spymaster was ready again.
“Now it’s time to let her fly.”
Azriel closed his eyes for a moment.
“I did, long ago. I was just pretending she was still by my side.”
Rhysand smiled—the smile of a father who understood how hard it was to let a child walk their own path, build their own life, follow their own destiny. And even though he was entrusting his legacy to his son, he knew it couldn’t compare to letting go of a daughter.
“You have the right to feel this, brother. But this isn’t a loss. It’s a new beginning—for all of us.”
Azriel took a deep breath. Then, for the first time in a long while, he set his glass down on the stone wall… and allowed himself to smile.
“I just hope Nyx is ready for her.”
“No one is,” Rhysand laughed. “But he’ll learn. And if not… he’s got two giant-winged, short-tempered fathers to put him in his place.”
They both laughed, though it didn’t last long. Azriel, lost in his grief, turned to the window again. The full moon bathed the palace in its cold light, as if it too mourned the absence of its mate on this special night.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the room, and the shadow of another Ilyrian warrior appeared:
“Brothers, the party’s downstairs. I bet Leif is about to finish off the wine.”
Azriel and Rhysand followed the feared warrior down the stairs, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders like when they were young. Cassian mumbled nonsense, fueled by the alcohol in his system. Azriel could only grunt every time his brother leaned more heavily on him.
And under the starry sky, the shadows and the night shared a moment of peace. Of pride. Of farewell.
Because their children were the future.
And they, though marked by darkness… had brought light into the world.
*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.
A/N: I'm back. Sorry to keep you waiting, or maybe not. I've been busy with my degree paperwork, so I haven't had time to write, but today I'm back with this little story, and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think. Kisses, love you guys.
Azriel and Nira <3
The new beginning
Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (It's more OC daughter)
Summary: The brightest light is sometimes born from the darkest corner of the soul.
Warning: Angst, nostalgia, fluff. I think that’s all—let me know if there's anything else I should add.
Word Count: 2,198
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this story about our boys. As always, feel free to share your thoughts, suggestions—everything is welcome as long as it's respectful and meant to help.
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes.
This is an original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.
I truly appreciate every comment, reblog, and like I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the bed where Azriel sat. Between his scarred fingers, he held a shining ring with a blue gemstone, surrounded by tiny stones like stars—a symbol of the one he once called his wife. Nights like this were the ones that hurt the most. There were days when he felt he didn’t deserve to live, nights when he longed desperately for the warmth of her body beside his.
He held the beautiful ring up to his eyes; the tiny sparkles of the gem reminded him of the light in her eyes when she was happy, when he made her laugh. They were only fleeting glimmers he wished had lasted forever.
But that would never happen again. There was no longer a "forever" together—not after he watched the life leave his beloved’s body.
“Listen to me…” Azriel whispered, his voice breaking. “Listen to me and come back, come home. Come back to me,” he begged as he held her body, rocking back and forth.
The pain tearing through his heart was unlike anything he had ever felt in his long life. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and in a moment, his beloved’s face was bathed in those warm drops.
Her face, so serene… Nothing disturbed her in that sweet slumber. And all Azriel could feel was each piece of his heart being ripped from his chest, how his soul slowly stopped singing.
“Please,” he begged once more. “Please, come back to me.”
Please. Please. Please.
There was no response. Her heart had stopped beating. Her cold body was all Azriel could feel—not warmth… only cold.
He opened the top drawer of the nightstand. In his free hand, he held the small velvet box that protected the one-of-a-kind piece he had commissioned just for her. He crawled beneath the sheets, pain his only companion. His shadows lingered throughout the room, drifting through Y/N’s belongings like it was the only routine they knew since she had gone.
Azriel sighed and closed his eyes. All he could see was her—all the little things she did that reminded him why he had fallen in love with his wife, his mate, his best friend, the love of his life, and the mother of his daughter. She would never come back.
The rays of the sun announced a new day. The sound of the door opening made him roll to the other side; he clung to the sheets like a small child. He wanted to stay in bed, but the voice of the person who interrupted his sleep broke the silence.
“I know you're awake,” she whispered, her voice full of resignation. “Today’s the big day. Nyx is being crowned and you're not ready,” the woman continued. She stepped further into the room and yanked the sheets away, just like Azriel used to do when she was little.
“Nira, leave me alone,” his voice, rough and hoarse from sleep, made his daughter laugh.
“I used to say the same thing when I was eight. Consider it my revenge.”
She couldn’t help but remember those times with her father. Everything looked so different back then. Her hero’s sense of humor had faded as she grew older. Every time her face reflected her mother’s… with the only exception being her eyes—hazel, just like her father's.
“Dad, come on. Rhys is going to come, and you don’t want him dragging you out of bed,” she continued, trying to convince him.
Azriel opened his eyes and felt his heart stop for a second. His daughter’s silhouette, bathed in sunlight, glowed like gold—like the most precious treasure he had: the constant reminder that, at the end of the day, someone was waiting for him to tell them about their day. But his little girl wouldn’t be waiting for him anymore.
“Just ten minutes and I’ll be downstairs,” Azriel murmured, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. His little whirlwind. Just a few years ago she had cried in his arms with chubby cheeks, and he hadn’t known how to walk that road. And now, she was a grown woman, taking care of her aging father.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said with a smile before leaving the room.
The spymaster got out of bed and walked straight to the shelf where he kept a small, simple black box. Just like him. He gently placed it into the pocket of his tunic.
Azriel looked at his reflection. Despite all the centuries he had lived, he still wasn’t used to wearing fancy clothes. The black suit with subtle golden embroidery was perfect for the occasion. He walked down the hallway, step by step, searching for where his daughter might be. Her presence was as familiar to him as the beat of his own heart. When he reached her side, he took the small box from his coat. Simple, unadorned. But the weight inside was immense.
“I want to give you this,” he said, holding it out.
She looked at him, puzzled, but took the box. She opened it carefully… and her breath caught.
A pendant. A stone of pure starlight, captured in a teardrop of carved crystal with impossible delicacy. The chain was dark, the color of the sky before a storm, and etched with details so subtle only someone like her would notice: lines of ancient runes. For protection.
“What is this?” she whispered.
“A part of me,” Azriel replied softly. “It’s forged from a fragment of my shadows. The first ones I ever learned to control.”
She looked up at him, surprised.
“The first ones?”
“The most stubborn ones. The ones that stayed when all the others left,” he said with a half-smile, though his voice carried something deeper. “I thought they might be useful to you.”
She closed her fingers tightly around the pendant.
“Why now?”
Azriel turned his gaze toward the window.
“Because now you’re building your own world. Because you’re leaving, in a way. And I want you to carry something that reminds you… that you’ll always have a home. That you can always come back. That I’ll always be here, even when you no longer need me.”
His words hit her harder than she expected. The kind of things he didn’t say lightly. The kind of love that wasn’t shouted, but felt deep in the skin.
“Dad…” her voice trembled.
He looked at her then, straight in the eyes. And for a moment, she saw the warrior, the spymaster of the Night Court… unarmed.
“You’ve become more than I ever dreamed of. Strong. Brilliant. Free. And now, you’re giving your life to someone else…” He paused. “But you’ll never stop being my little girl.”
The tear that slipped down her cheek was silent, but she didn’t hide it.
“No matter how much I grow, I’ll always need you.”
Azriel nodded. Then, he gently lifted the pendant and tied it around her neck. His fingers, hardened by training and time, were surprisingly soft.
“If you ever feel lost… touch it. My shadows will come to you.”
She hugged him. With enough strength to make his wings flare slightly, wrapping around her. As if they wanted to shield her from the entire universe. And he… he held her like he could still keep her safe in his arms. Like the world was a little less dark when she was near.
Father and daughter made their way to the Grand Palace for the celebration. Arms linked, for the last time.
The ceremony had already ended.
The night had stretched on with wine, soft music, and congratulations. The newlyweds were downstairs, surrounded by friends and family, but in one of the highest towers of the Palace, two shadows shared a glass of wine in silence.
Azriel didn’t drink much, but that night… that night, he did.
“I never thought we’d end up here,” Rhysand said, breaking the silence. “You giving your daughter away… and me gaining a daughter-in-law.”
Azriel shot him a sidelong glance, but the small curve of his lips betrayed his calm. The day he had to entrust his daughter to another man felt so distant now. That night when the light of his life was born was a memory he cherished more with each passing year, and now, the possibility of becoming a grandfather loomed closer.
“I never thought your son would survive his first training with Cassian.”
Rhys chuckled quietly, sipping from his glass. “He almost didn’t. But then he started flying before he turned two, and his mother didn’t let anyone take him away for weeks.”
“I remember,” Azriel said, turning the glass in his hands. “I remember when she spelled the nursery door so Cassian couldn’t sneak in and drag him off to train.”
Rhysand laughed again, but then fell silent. His expression grew more serious as he looked at his brother—not with the gaze of the High Lord, but just as Rhys. Simply Rhys.
“You know he’ll take care of her, right?”
Azriel took a second to answer. He’d known Nyx since he was a child; he had been just his nephew… until he wasn’t. Not once those blue eyes had landed on his little girl. From the moment they were old enough to admit their love.
“I know,” his rough voice betrayed him to Rhys. He didn’t know how long he could live in a house without the sound of Nira’s voice, her morning songs, and her nighttime jokes.
Rhys set his glass on the stone railing. “Nyx… he’s not like me. He’s softer in some ways. More of a dreamer. But when it comes to her, to your daughter… Azriel, I swear by the stars-damned sky, there is nothing he wouldn’t do for her.”
Azriel knew that. Even when his brother’s son had “saved her life” from an evil frog in the pond, or the time Nira scraped her knee from running too fast. That very afternoon, Nyx’s eyes hadn’t lied: the care in his hands as he helped her up, the way he healed her himself and told her everything would be okay… Azriel had known then.
“I saw it in his eyes. Since they were children.”
“You knew since then?”
“No,” he looked straight at him. “But one afternoon, I watched them from the window. My shadows confirmed it the next day.”
Rhys watched him in silence. There were so many unspoken words between them. Centuries of battles, of wounds and loyalties. But this… this was different. Their children would shape the next generation of the Night Court’s reign.
“She has your strength, Az,” Rhysand said softly. “But also your silence. Your way of seeing the world without saying a word… and still saying everything.”
Azriel looked up at the stars. They knew how often he’d begged them to give him the strength to keep going.
“It wasn’t always easy to care for her. Sometimes… it felt like she was the only thing anchoring me to the world. That if she ever disappeared, I would too.”
Rhys lowered his gaze in silent understanding. That night when Velaris had mourned those lost to that strange illness. The night his brother lost his wife and mate, and Rhysand lost a friend. A member of his family. Azriel had shut down completely. Feyre had cared for Nira until the spymaster was ready again.
“Now it’s time to let her fly.”
Azriel closed his eyes for a moment.
“I did, long ago. I was just pretending she was still by my side.”
Rhysand smiled—the smile of a father who understood how hard it was to let a child walk their own path, build their own life, follow their own destiny. And even though he was entrusting his legacy to his son, he knew it couldn’t compare to letting go of a daughter.
“You have the right to feel this, brother. But this isn’t a loss. It’s a new beginning—for all of us.”
Azriel took a deep breath. Then, for the first time in a long while, he set his glass down on the stone wall… and allowed himself to smile.
“I just hope Nyx is ready for her.”
“No one is,” Rhysand laughed. “But he’ll learn. And if not… he’s got two giant-winged, short-tempered fathers to put him in his place.”
They both laughed, though it didn’t last long. Azriel, lost in his grief, turned to the window again. The full moon bathed the palace in its cold light, as if it too mourned the absence of its mate on this special night.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the room, and the shadow of another Ilyrian warrior appeared:
“Brothers, the party’s downstairs. I bet Leif is about to finish off the wine.”
Azriel and Rhysand followed the feared warrior down the stairs, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders like when they were young. Cassian mumbled nonsense, fueled by the alcohol in his system. Azriel could only grunt every time his brother leaned more heavily on him.
And under the starry sky, the shadows and the night shared a moment of peace. Of pride. Of farewell.
Because their children were the future.
And they, though marked by darkness… had brought light into the world.
*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.
A/N: I'm back. Sorry to keep you waiting, or maybe not. I've been busy with my degree paperwork, so I haven't had time to write, but today I'm back with this little story, and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think. Kisses, love you guys.
😭😭😭😭😭💗
The new beginning
Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (It's more OC daughter)
Summary: The brightest light is sometimes born from the darkest corner of the soul.
Warning: Angst, nostalgia, fluff. I think that’s all—let me know if there's anything else I should add.
Word Count: 2,198
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this story about our boys. As always, feel free to share your thoughts, suggestions—everything is welcome as long as it's respectful and meant to help.
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes.
This is an original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.
I truly appreciate every comment, reblog, and like I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the bed where Azriel sat. Between his scarred fingers, he held a shining ring with a blue gemstone, surrounded by tiny stones like stars—a symbol of the one he once called his wife. Nights like this were the ones that hurt the most. There were days when he felt he didn’t deserve to live, nights when he longed desperately for the warmth of her body beside his.
He held the beautiful ring up to his eyes; the tiny sparkles of the gem reminded him of the light in her eyes when she was happy, when he made her laugh. They were only fleeting glimmers he wished had lasted forever.
But that would never happen again. There was no longer a "forever" together—not after he watched the life leave his beloved’s body.
“Listen to me…” Azriel whispered, his voice breaking. “Listen to me and come back, come home. Come back to me,” he begged as he held her body, rocking back and forth.
The pain tearing through his heart was unlike anything he had ever felt in his long life. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and in a moment, his beloved’s face was bathed in those warm drops.
Her face, so serene… Nothing disturbed her in that sweet slumber. And all Azriel could feel was each piece of his heart being ripped from his chest, how his soul slowly stopped singing.
“Please,” he begged once more. “Please, come back to me.”
Please. Please. Please.
There was no response. Her heart had stopped beating. Her cold body was all Azriel could feel—not warmth… only cold.
He opened the top drawer of the nightstand. In his free hand, he held the small velvet box that protected the one-of-a-kind piece he had commissioned just for her. He crawled beneath the sheets, pain his only companion. His shadows lingered throughout the room, drifting through Y/N’s belongings like it was the only routine they knew since she had gone.
Azriel sighed and closed his eyes. All he could see was her—all the little things she did that reminded him why he had fallen in love with his wife, his mate, his best friend, the love of his life, and the mother of his daughter. She would never come back.
The rays of the sun announced a new day. The sound of the door opening made him roll to the other side; he clung to the sheets like a small child. He wanted to stay in bed, but the voice of the person who interrupted his sleep broke the silence.
“I know you're awake,” she whispered, her voice full of resignation. “Today’s the big day. Nyx is being crowned and you're not ready,” the woman continued. She stepped further into the room and yanked the sheets away, just like Azriel used to do when she was little.
“Nira, leave me alone,” his voice, rough and hoarse from sleep, made his daughter laugh.
“I used to say the same thing when I was eight. Consider it my revenge.”
She couldn’t help but remember those times with her father. Everything looked so different back then. Her hero’s sense of humor had faded as she grew older. Every time her face reflected her mother’s… with the only exception being her eyes—hazel, just like her father's.
“Dad, come on. Rhys is going to come, and you don’t want him dragging you out of bed,” she continued, trying to convince him.
Azriel opened his eyes and felt his heart stop for a second. His daughter’s silhouette, bathed in sunlight, glowed like gold—like the most precious treasure he had: the constant reminder that, at the end of the day, someone was waiting for him to tell them about their day. But his little girl wouldn’t be waiting for him anymore.
“Just ten minutes and I’ll be downstairs,” Azriel murmured, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. His little whirlwind. Just a few years ago she had cried in his arms with chubby cheeks, and he hadn’t known how to walk that road. And now, she was a grown woman, taking care of her aging father.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said with a smile before leaving the room.
The spymaster got out of bed and walked straight to the shelf where he kept a small, simple black box. Just like him. He gently placed it into the pocket of his tunic.
Azriel looked at his reflection. Despite all the centuries he had lived, he still wasn’t used to wearing fancy clothes. The black suit with subtle golden embroidery was perfect for the occasion. He walked down the hallway, step by step, searching for where his daughter might be. Her presence was as familiar to him as the beat of his own heart. When he reached her side, he took the small box from his coat. Simple, unadorned. But the weight inside was immense.
“I want to give you this,” he said, holding it out.
She looked at him, puzzled, but took the box. She opened it carefully… and her breath caught.
A pendant. A stone of pure starlight, captured in a teardrop of carved crystal with impossible delicacy. The chain was dark, the color of the sky before a storm, and etched with details so subtle only someone like her would notice: lines of ancient runes. For protection.
“What is this?” she whispered.
“A part of me,” Azriel replied softly. “It’s forged from a fragment of my shadows. The first ones I ever learned to control.”
She looked up at him, surprised.
“The first ones?”
“The most stubborn ones. The ones that stayed when all the others left,” he said with a half-smile, though his voice carried something deeper. “I thought they might be useful to you.”
She closed her fingers tightly around the pendant.
“Why now?”
Azriel turned his gaze toward the window.
“Because now you’re building your own world. Because you’re leaving, in a way. And I want you to carry something that reminds you… that you’ll always have a home. That you can always come back. That I’ll always be here, even when you no longer need me.”
His words hit her harder than she expected. The kind of things he didn’t say lightly. The kind of love that wasn’t shouted, but felt deep in the skin.
“Dad…” her voice trembled.
He looked at her then, straight in the eyes. And for a moment, she saw the warrior, the spymaster of the Night Court… unarmed.
“You’ve become more than I ever dreamed of. Strong. Brilliant. Free. And now, you’re giving your life to someone else…” He paused. “But you’ll never stop being my little girl.”
The tear that slipped down her cheek was silent, but she didn’t hide it.
“No matter how much I grow, I’ll always need you.”
Azriel nodded. Then, he gently lifted the pendant and tied it around her neck. His fingers, hardened by training and time, were surprisingly soft.
“If you ever feel lost… touch it. My shadows will come to you.”
She hugged him. With enough strength to make his wings flare slightly, wrapping around her. As if they wanted to shield her from the entire universe. And he… he held her like he could still keep her safe in his arms. Like the world was a little less dark when she was near.
Father and daughter made their way to the Grand Palace for the celebration. Arms linked, for the last time.
The ceremony had already ended.
The night had stretched on with wine, soft music, and congratulations. The newlyweds were downstairs, surrounded by friends and family, but in one of the highest towers of the Palace, two shadows shared a glass of wine in silence.
Azriel didn’t drink much, but that night… that night, he did.
“I never thought we’d end up here,” Rhysand said, breaking the silence. “You giving your daughter away… and me gaining a daughter-in-law.”
Azriel shot him a sidelong glance, but the small curve of his lips betrayed his calm. The day he had to entrust his daughter to another man felt so distant now. That night when the light of his life was born was a memory he cherished more with each passing year, and now, the possibility of becoming a grandfather loomed closer.
“I never thought your son would survive his first training with Cassian.”
Rhys chuckled quietly, sipping from his glass. “He almost didn’t. But then he started flying before he turned two, and his mother didn’t let anyone take him away for weeks.”
“I remember,” Azriel said, turning the glass in his hands. “I remember when she spelled the nursery door so Cassian couldn’t sneak in and drag him off to train.”
Rhysand laughed again, but then fell silent. His expression grew more serious as he looked at his brother—not with the gaze of the High Lord, but just as Rhys. Simply Rhys.
“You know he’ll take care of her, right?”
Azriel took a second to answer. He’d known Nyx since he was a child; he had been just his nephew… until he wasn’t. Not once those blue eyes had landed on his little girl. From the moment they were old enough to admit their love.
“I know,” his rough voice betrayed him to Rhys. He didn’t know how long he could live in a house without the sound of Nira’s voice, her morning songs, and her nighttime jokes.
Rhys set his glass on the stone railing. “Nyx… he’s not like me. He’s softer in some ways. More of a dreamer. But when it comes to her, to your daughter… Azriel, I swear by the stars-damned sky, there is nothing he wouldn’t do for her.”
Azriel knew that. Even when his brother’s son had “saved her life” from an evil frog in the pond, or the time Nira scraped her knee from running too fast. That very afternoon, Nyx’s eyes hadn’t lied: the care in his hands as he helped her up, the way he healed her himself and told her everything would be okay… Azriel had known then.
“I saw it in his eyes. Since they were children.”
“You knew since then?”
“No,” he looked straight at him. “But one afternoon, I watched them from the window. My shadows confirmed it the next day.”
Rhys watched him in silence. There were so many unspoken words between them. Centuries of battles, of wounds and loyalties. But this… this was different. Their children would shape the next generation of the Night Court’s reign.
“She has your strength, Az,” Rhysand said softly. “But also your silence. Your way of seeing the world without saying a word… and still saying everything.”
Azriel looked up at the stars. They knew how often he’d begged them to give him the strength to keep going.
“It wasn’t always easy to care for her. Sometimes… it felt like she was the only thing anchoring me to the world. That if she ever disappeared, I would too.”
Rhys lowered his gaze in silent understanding. That night when Velaris had mourned those lost to that strange illness. The night his brother lost his wife and mate, and Rhysand lost a friend. A member of his family. Azriel had shut down completely. Feyre had cared for Nira until the spymaster was ready again.
“Now it’s time to let her fly.”
Azriel closed his eyes for a moment.
“I did, long ago. I was just pretending she was still by my side.”
Rhysand smiled—the smile of a father who understood how hard it was to let a child walk their own path, build their own life, follow their own destiny. And even though he was entrusting his legacy to his son, he knew it couldn’t compare to letting go of a daughter.
“You have the right to feel this, brother. But this isn’t a loss. It’s a new beginning—for all of us.”
Azriel took a deep breath. Then, for the first time in a long while, he set his glass down on the stone wall… and allowed himself to smile.
“I just hope Nyx is ready for her.”
“No one is,” Rhysand laughed. “But he’ll learn. And if not… he’s got two giant-winged, short-tempered fathers to put him in his place.”
They both laughed, though it didn’t last long. Azriel, lost in his grief, turned to the window again. The full moon bathed the palace in its cold light, as if it too mourned the absence of its mate on this special night.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the room, and the shadow of another Ilyrian warrior appeared:
“Brothers, the party’s downstairs. I bet Leif is about to finish off the wine.”
Azriel and Rhysand followed the feared warrior down the stairs, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders like when they were young. Cassian mumbled nonsense, fueled by the alcohol in his system. Azriel could only grunt every time his brother leaned more heavily on him.
And under the starry sky, the shadows and the night shared a moment of peace. Of pride. Of farewell.
Because their children were the future.
And they, though marked by darkness… had brought light into the world.
*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.
A/N: I'm back. Sorry to keep you waiting, or maybe not. I've been busy with my degree paperwork, so I haven't had time to write, but today I'm back with this little story, and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think. Kisses, love you guys.
I love the father-daughter relationship 😭😭❤️🩹
The new beginning
Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (It's more OC daughter)
Summary: The brightest light is sometimes born from the darkest corner of the soul.
Warning: Angst, nostalgia, fluff. I think that’s all—let me know if there's anything else I should add.
Word Count: 2,198
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this story about our boys. As always, feel free to share your thoughts, suggestions—everything is welcome as long as it's respectful and meant to help.
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes.
This is an original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.
I truly appreciate every comment, reblog, and like I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
The moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the bed where Azriel sat. Between his scarred fingers, he held a shining ring with a blue gemstone, surrounded by tiny stones like stars—a symbol of the one he once called his wife. Nights like this were the ones that hurt the most. There were days when he felt he didn’t deserve to live, nights when he longed desperately for the warmth of her body beside his.
He held the beautiful ring up to his eyes; the tiny sparkles of the gem reminded him of the light in her eyes when she was happy, when he made her laugh. They were only fleeting glimmers he wished had lasted forever.
But that would never happen again. There was no longer a "forever" together—not after he watched the life leave his beloved’s body.
“Listen to me…” Azriel whispered, his voice breaking. “Listen to me and come back, come home. Come back to me,” he begged as he held her body, rocking back and forth.
The pain tearing through his heart was unlike anything he had ever felt in his long life. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and in a moment, his beloved’s face was bathed in those warm drops.
Her face, so serene… Nothing disturbed her in that sweet slumber. And all Azriel could feel was each piece of his heart being ripped from his chest, how his soul slowly stopped singing.
“Please,” he begged once more. “Please, come back to me.”
Please. Please. Please.
There was no response. Her heart had stopped beating. Her cold body was all Azriel could feel—not warmth… only cold.
He opened the top drawer of the nightstand. In his free hand, he held the small velvet box that protected the one-of-a-kind piece he had commissioned just for her. He crawled beneath the sheets, pain his only companion. His shadows lingered throughout the room, drifting through Y/N’s belongings like it was the only routine they knew since she had gone.
Azriel sighed and closed his eyes. All he could see was her—all the little things she did that reminded him why he had fallen in love with his wife, his mate, his best friend, the love of his life, and the mother of his daughter. She would never come back.
The rays of the sun announced a new day. The sound of the door opening made him roll to the other side; he clung to the sheets like a small child. He wanted to stay in bed, but the voice of the person who interrupted his sleep broke the silence.
“I know you're awake,” she whispered, her voice full of resignation. “Today’s the big day. Nyx is being crowned and you're not ready,” the woman continued. She stepped further into the room and yanked the sheets away, just like Azriel used to do when she was little.
“Nira, leave me alone,” his voice, rough and hoarse from sleep, made his daughter laugh.
“I used to say the same thing when I was eight. Consider it my revenge.”
She couldn’t help but remember those times with her father. Everything looked so different back then. Her hero’s sense of humor had faded as she grew older. Every time her face reflected her mother’s… with the only exception being her eyes—hazel, just like her father's.
“Dad, come on. Rhys is going to come, and you don’t want him dragging you out of bed,” she continued, trying to convince him.
Azriel opened his eyes and felt his heart stop for a second. His daughter’s silhouette, bathed in sunlight, glowed like gold—like the most precious treasure he had: the constant reminder that, at the end of the day, someone was waiting for him to tell them about their day. But his little girl wouldn’t be waiting for him anymore.
“Just ten minutes and I’ll be downstairs,” Azriel murmured, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. His little whirlwind. Just a few years ago she had cried in his arms with chubby cheeks, and he hadn’t known how to walk that road. And now, she was a grown woman, taking care of her aging father.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said with a smile before leaving the room.
The spymaster got out of bed and walked straight to the shelf where he kept a small, simple black box. Just like him. He gently placed it into the pocket of his tunic.
Azriel looked at his reflection. Despite all the centuries he had lived, he still wasn’t used to wearing fancy clothes. The black suit with subtle golden embroidery was perfect for the occasion. He walked down the hallway, step by step, searching for where his daughter might be. Her presence was as familiar to him as the beat of his own heart. When he reached her side, he took the small box from his coat. Simple, unadorned. But the weight inside was immense.
“I want to give you this,” he said, holding it out.
She looked at him, puzzled, but took the box. She opened it carefully… and her breath caught.
A pendant. A stone of pure starlight, captured in a teardrop of carved crystal with impossible delicacy. The chain was dark, the color of the sky before a storm, and etched with details so subtle only someone like her would notice: lines of ancient runes. For protection.
“What is this?” she whispered.
“A part of me,” Azriel replied softly. “It’s forged from a fragment of my shadows. The first ones I ever learned to control.”
She looked up at him, surprised.
“The first ones?”
“The most stubborn ones. The ones that stayed when all the others left,” he said with a half-smile, though his voice carried something deeper. “I thought they might be useful to you.”
She closed her fingers tightly around the pendant.
“Why now?”
Azriel turned his gaze toward the window.
“Because now you’re building your own world. Because you’re leaving, in a way. And I want you to carry something that reminds you… that you’ll always have a home. That you can always come back. That I’ll always be here, even when you no longer need me.”
His words hit her harder than she expected. The kind of things he didn’t say lightly. The kind of love that wasn’t shouted, but felt deep in the skin.
“Dad…” her voice trembled.
He looked at her then, straight in the eyes. And for a moment, she saw the warrior, the spymaster of the Night Court… unarmed.
“You’ve become more than I ever dreamed of. Strong. Brilliant. Free. And now, you’re giving your life to someone else…” He paused. “But you’ll never stop being my little girl.”
The tear that slipped down her cheek was silent, but she didn’t hide it.
“No matter how much I grow, I’ll always need you.”
Azriel nodded. Then, he gently lifted the pendant and tied it around her neck. His fingers, hardened by training and time, were surprisingly soft.
“If you ever feel lost… touch it. My shadows will come to you.”
She hugged him. With enough strength to make his wings flare slightly, wrapping around her. As if they wanted to shield her from the entire universe. And he… he held her like he could still keep her safe in his arms. Like the world was a little less dark when she was near.
Father and daughter made their way to the Grand Palace for the celebration. Arms linked, for the last time.
The ceremony had already ended.
The night had stretched on with wine, soft music, and congratulations. The newlyweds were downstairs, surrounded by friends and family, but in one of the highest towers of the Palace, two shadows shared a glass of wine in silence.
Azriel didn’t drink much, but that night… that night, he did.
“I never thought we’d end up here,” Rhysand said, breaking the silence. “You giving your daughter away… and me gaining a daughter-in-law.”
Azriel shot him a sidelong glance, but the small curve of his lips betrayed his calm. The day he had to entrust his daughter to another man felt so distant now. That night when the light of his life was born was a memory he cherished more with each passing year, and now, the possibility of becoming a grandfather loomed closer.
“I never thought your son would survive his first training with Cassian.”
Rhys chuckled quietly, sipping from his glass. “He almost didn’t. But then he started flying before he turned two, and his mother didn’t let anyone take him away for weeks.”
“I remember,” Azriel said, turning the glass in his hands. “I remember when she spelled the nursery door so Cassian couldn’t sneak in and drag him off to train.”
Rhysand laughed again, but then fell silent. His expression grew more serious as he looked at his brother—not with the gaze of the High Lord, but just as Rhys. Simply Rhys.
“You know he’ll take care of her, right?”
Azriel took a second to answer. He’d known Nyx since he was a child; he had been just his nephew… until he wasn’t. Not once those blue eyes had landed on his little girl. From the moment they were old enough to admit their love.
“I know,” his rough voice betrayed him to Rhys. He didn’t know how long he could live in a house without the sound of Nira’s voice, her morning songs, and her nighttime jokes.
Rhys set his glass on the stone railing. “Nyx… he’s not like me. He’s softer in some ways. More of a dreamer. But when it comes to her, to your daughter… Azriel, I swear by the stars-damned sky, there is nothing he wouldn’t do for her.”
Azriel knew that. Even when his brother’s son had “saved her life” from an evil frog in the pond, or the time Nira scraped her knee from running too fast. That very afternoon, Nyx’s eyes hadn’t lied: the care in his hands as he helped her up, the way he healed her himself and told her everything would be okay… Azriel had known then.
“I saw it in his eyes. Since they were children.”
“You knew since then?”
“No,” he looked straight at him. “But one afternoon, I watched them from the window. My shadows confirmed it the next day.”
Rhys watched him in silence. There were so many unspoken words between them. Centuries of battles, of wounds and loyalties. But this… this was different. Their children would shape the next generation of the Night Court’s reign.
“She has your strength, Az,” Rhysand said softly. “But also your silence. Your way of seeing the world without saying a word… and still saying everything.”
Azriel looked up at the stars. They knew how often he’d begged them to give him the strength to keep going.
“It wasn’t always easy to care for her. Sometimes… it felt like she was the only thing anchoring me to the world. That if she ever disappeared, I would too.”
Rhys lowered his gaze in silent understanding. That night when Velaris had mourned those lost to that strange illness. The night his brother lost his wife and mate, and Rhysand lost a friend. A member of his family. Azriel had shut down completely. Feyre had cared for Nira until the spymaster was ready again.
“Now it’s time to let her fly.”
Azriel closed his eyes for a moment.
“I did, long ago. I was just pretending she was still by my side.”
Rhysand smiled—the smile of a father who understood how hard it was to let a child walk their own path, build their own life, follow their own destiny. And even though he was entrusting his legacy to his son, he knew it couldn’t compare to letting go of a daughter.
“You have the right to feel this, brother. But this isn’t a loss. It’s a new beginning—for all of us.”
Azriel took a deep breath. Then, for the first time in a long while, he set his glass down on the stone wall… and allowed himself to smile.
“I just hope Nyx is ready for her.”
“No one is,” Rhysand laughed. “But he’ll learn. And if not… he’s got two giant-winged, short-tempered fathers to put him in his place.”
They both laughed, though it didn’t last long. Azriel, lost in his grief, turned to the window again. The full moon bathed the palace in its cold light, as if it too mourned the absence of its mate on this special night.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the room, and the shadow of another Ilyrian warrior appeared:
“Brothers, the party’s downstairs. I bet Leif is about to finish off the wine.”
Azriel and Rhysand followed the feared warrior down the stairs, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders like when they were young. Cassian mumbled nonsense, fueled by the alcohol in his system. Azriel could only grunt every time his brother leaned more heavily on him.
And under the starry sky, the shadows and the night shared a moment of peace. Of pride. Of farewell.
Because their children were the future.
And they, though marked by darkness… had brought light into the world.
*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.
A/N: I'm back. Sorry to keep you waiting, or maybe not. I've been busy with my degree paperwork, so I haven't had time to write, but today I'm back with this little story, and I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think. Kisses, love you guys.
I see
Pairing: Azriel x female reader
Summary: Azriel and Y/N, a couple who have shared a long and deep connection, face a crisis in their relationship.
Warning: Angst, sadness
Word Count: 1489
Notes: Hi! This is my first time writing, I hope you like this story and leave your comments about what you thought, suggestions, everything is welcome as long as it is with the motivation to teach and with respect. English is not my language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.
The story is original, I wrote it myself. Please do not copy and plagiarize my story.
I appreciate the comments, reblogs and likes that I receive. Kisses ❤️.
Happy reading!
He see (2)
Azriel had always enjoyed waking up next to her every morning. His black-and-white days, she painted them golden like the light of day, like the sun at every dawn; with a calm like the waters of the River Sidra. But things fall apart, and time breaks hearts.
During the first years of their relationship, life was a garden with beautiful colors, a clear sky, many flowers, and a large fountain full of futures. And so it lasted for centuries, until that garden was no longer watered and that fountain gradually dried up.
Another night in which he doesn't show up again, again, again...
Tonight, was or is the night of their anniversary. Y/N sat in the dining room she had decorated as she had many times for a romantic dinner, dressed in a beautiful dress, but the master of spies never arrived.
The next morning, she heard the door of the room they shared open. She just kept pretending to be asleep and that she hadn't cried all night as she had the last few times, and he could only observe the figure of the woman who had once calmed every nightmare with the warmth of her arms, as if she were only constant agony instead of his peace.
Y/N was walking through the streets of Velaris on her way to work when Azriel bumped into her and the coffee she was holding spilled on both of them. The beautiful girl couldn't have a worse day than that, she was late and her favorite coffee was spilled on the chest of the handsome man who was now holding her hand to keep her from falling to the floor. When she finally looked up, each of their senses felt stunned, his and hers. Azriel could only see her beautiful eyes, her face kissed by the rays of the sun, her lips so pure, while she couldn't take her eyes off his honey-brown eyes like the coffee she ordered every morning, her dark hair like the night she saw through her window at home.
"Oh, no! I'm so sorry," Azriel stammered, embarrassed, and released her hand as slowly as possible so as not to lose her warmth so quickly.
Y/N smiled slowly, shaking her head. "Don't worry, it happens to anyone, I should thank you for saving my butt from that horrible puddle on the floor," she said, laughing in the most nervous way she had ever been.
Azriel couldn't help but laugh. "I think I owe you a new coffee," he said as he looked at his stained shirt.
"Maybe, but I think it will be another time," she said smiling.
Who could forget that day?
"So, can you tell me where you were last night?" Y/N asked in a resigned voice.
"On a mission in the Summer Court," replied the shadow-singer, a vague answer that meant nothing to her.
"A mission, what smells of lotus flower and a touch of lavender? Tell me," she questioned with a calm voice but was more than broken.
"Y/N, let's not start this argument again."
For Azriel, it was just another argument, just one more he had that day. He couldn't see that he was doing things wrong. That with each passing day, he was breaking her a little more. He was the cause of it.
Y/N stared fixedly at Azriel, searching for any sign that he was willing to tell her what was going on. She was giving him an opportunity, and he was simply rejecting it.
"Honey, you look tired," Feyre whispered from the other side of the coffee table.
"I am, every day, I am," Y/N said in a choked voice as she tried to hold back her tears.
"Azriel is an important part of the family, but so are you. You're my friend and it hurts me to see you like this, like a ghost waiting in the corner of the room where he's not going to come in," Feyre told Y/N as she hugged her and stroked her hair.
There was no worse torture than feeling one's own heart bleeding in the darkness, while despair consumed her day after day, wondering what she had done to deserve such pain.
The front door opened and Y/N entered. She didn't expect to find Azriel in the living room. It was strange to see him sitting there with his gaze lost in the wall. He turned to look at her but could no longer see the spark that had kept the flame alive once, and she could no longer see that look that would tell her that no matter what happened, he would always be there. Two strangers living in the same house, two people who had been lovers.
Neither of them knew what to say, neither was willing to let go, not for love, but out of habit.
"I'm glad you're home," Y/N whispered, breaking the silence.
Azriel didn't answer. Deep down, he knew he had crossed the line, that it wasn't his home anymore.
"Did you ever think of telling me?" the woman he considered the love of his life moaned. "Did you ever see me through her when you kissed her?" as she continued to question, raising her voice a little more each time. "Didn't I make you happy?"
"Y/N..." Azriel whispered, before being interrupted by the woman who was his girl.
"No, no, don't try to lie to me," the beautiful woman shouted, knowing that her beloved would try to do it like the last time, but she was so tired.
"I wasn't going to, it was never my intention, but I had to do it to know," the shadow-singer expressed with a lump in his throat.
"Know what? That you didn't want to be with me anymore?" she affirmed with a broken voice.
"Yes," Azriel revealed.
The shadow-singer watched as the woman who was his, tears welled up in her eyes, as she crumbled at the affirmation of the fact she already sensed. Azriel couldn't help but wonder where his decision would lead him. Would she be okay? Would he regret it? He took a step forward to try to comfort her, and she couldn't help but take a step back when she saw that he wanted to get closer to her.
With the sharp pain in her soul and with tears running down her cheeks, the same ones he had kissed, she approached him while taking off the necklace Azriel had given her on their fifth anniversary as a symbol of pure love, one that would transcend even death. What a great lie, for her, in his eyes he was a liar, a promise breaker.
Y/N extended the hand that held the necklace with a yellow stone, a happiness that evaporated over time. Azriel was forced to accept it back, he knew her more than anything and yet he made his decision.
"I want you to leave," the woman ordered as she looked him directly in the eyes, for him to see how she broke him, how she broke them.
"She is my mate," Azriel revealed with watery eyes and a look of longing.
For him, a mating bond had always been important, feeling his other half through the bond, so he decided to get to know the other woman while Y/N always waited for him awake every night to welcome him home. She, who had always made him happy despite considering herself a complicated person and unworthy of that love. He wanted to stay with her, but his yearning was stronger.
"I see, you chose her, her who barely knows you, not me who has spent almost my whole life with you, wishing you would always spend time with me," Y/N whispered with a broken voice and full of pain. "I want you to leave Azriel," she asked again.
"Forgive me Y/N, I didn't want it to end like this," he murmured, and so the shadow-singer took his things and crossed the threshold.
The door he had crossed so many times with joy just because he would find her on the other side waiting for him, but she would never wait for him again, not anymore.
She collapsed on the floor when the door clicked shut, crying over the loss of a love, like a sad song in the dark room her heart beat. What she thought was going to be forever, was momentary.
I read them!
Remembering my first time writing, the best decision of my life 😭😭😭💛
Red to Gold
Pairing: Eris x female reader
Summary: From the fire of the past are born the flames of a new beginning.
Warning: Mentions of torture, whipping, violence, death (nothing in too much detail), Beron. Let me know if anything happens. Word count: 1183
Notes:The idea came out of nowhere, I hope you like it. Leave your comments on what you think, suggestions, everything is welcome as long as it is with the motivation to teach and with respect.
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any spelling and grammar problems.
Original story, I wrote it myself. Please do not copy or plagiarize my story.
I appreciate the comments, reblogs and likes I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
The sun would rise again over them.
That was what his mother always said whenever his father did atrocious things to her. His father wasn’t known for being the best; his tyranny was his strength and worth at that time, but it never led him to victory. So when Eris became the new High Lord after killing his own father, his dreams were plagued with nightmares of his past, but he always remembered his mother's words.
“The sun will rise again over us,” the Lady of Autumn would whisper to her children.
“How do you know?” Eris would always ask.
“Because one day, you'll feel that all the bad will go away, and the good will settle deep in your soul, healing the broken parts,” she said as she kissed his forehead.
“Mama, do you feel it?” he whispered. He had always been curious with her, only with her.
His mother took longer than usual to respond. She clung to her little son and answered:
“Yes, I feel it every day,” she finally said.
The little redhead, deep down, knew it was a lie. He knew his father tortured her. She thought that at 8 years old, he wouldn’t be aware of the atrocious things his own father could do. But Eris was always aware, and although he sometimes tried to defend her, which cost him several whippings, he knew his father would never show mercy to a child. So, Eris would have no mercy for him. Never.
When his brothers came into the world, he tried to protect them from Beron's torture, especially his younger brother, Lucien. The only one of his brothers with whom he formed a close bond. The only one he could save from his father's poison.
Lucien and Eris were united by their shared love for their mother. Eris tried to give him a peaceful childhood: he tried to play with him, teach him to read and write, teach him to defend himself. He didn’t care about the consequences that followed. He would do that and more for him and for his mother.
He promised himself: the sun would rise again over them.
A couple of years after becoming the High Lord of the Autumn Court, he found his mate; he found his sun. Y/N was his sun during his dark nights when the storm raged through his body. It was she, with her light, who made him shine like a diamond. His life improved with her, and his mother couldn’t be happier for him, and he couldn’t be happier with her, because he could finally live a free life.
He could never blame her for wanting freedom. Everyone deserved that. Freedom.
Now, while lying on the couch in his home with his little redhead asleep on his chest, he knew his mother was never wrong.
All the bad was going away, and the good was binding to his soul, mending his broken parts.
His little girl stirred on his chest. He gently stroked her back, with tenderness, with love, with the affection that only his mother had taught him, what it meant to be both father and mother at the same time. He swore that the moment his daughter, Emberlyn, was born, he would do whatever it took to give her a childhood full of joy and peace, everything he didn’t have. He would give it to his children.
Emberlyn was his little sun, his passionate little warrior, and even though she was now 5 years old, she was still his little baby. The little redhead claimed to be a little adult, but the fact that she was now lying on her father, her head buried in his neck, showed she was still a baby.
If those thoughts came to light, Emby would get a bit upset and tell her father to have a small sword battle until one of them won. That's why she was his little warrior.
Who would’ve thought his girl was such a fan of swords?
The scent of his mate filled the room; she had entered through the door that connected to the garden. Emby had been helping her mother in the garden they had built together before ending up in her father's arms, fast asleep.
“I love you,” Eris told his wife.
His wife only smiled radiantly before approaching him. When she reached him, she leaned in to kiss him; their lips met gently. A kiss full of so much love, soft as a feather. Both parted, breathless; if it were up to them, they would stay like that for eternity. But they had to breathe at some point.
“I love you more, dear husband,” Y/N whispered near his lips.
Eris made space for her so she could lie down with them. His wife slid onto the couch and nestled into the arm her beloved husband offered her. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder and buried her face in his neck, inhaling his rich scent.
“Maybe we should have another,” Eris said quickly.
“Another what?” the woman responded.
“Another baby,” he said with a smile.
Y/N only laughed and pulled her face out from Eris' neck. She looked at him with a smile; she would never tire of seeing his face, the shape of his nose, his kissable lips, his beautiful freckles adorning his cheeks. Eris locked his gaze with hers, and countless moments flashed through his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was building such a wonderful life as a husband, father, and High Lord of his court.
“I’ll give you all the children you want, my love,” she said with a giggle. She kissed his jaw and buried her face back in her beloved's neck.
The redhead just chuckled, causing his daughter to stir. Emby just wriggled around; she seemed to be a heavy sleeper, just like her mother.
The High Lord of the Autumn Court was more than happy. And though sometimes that happiness was clouded by horrible moments from his past, it was his present that brought him back. His doubts about not being a good father were answered in the moments he shared with his baby. She loved him and reminded him that he was raising her in the best way possible.
He would build that legacy worthy of being told in future generations.
The sun would rise again over them.
*divider by @tsunami-of-tears , thank you.
I red you!
I will write more about him soon 🧡🧡
Kiss of war
Pairing: Cassian x Female Reader
Summary: Battles are fought with a sword in hand, and wars of the heart are waged with a kiss.
Warning: Angst, tension. Let me know if anything else needs to be added.
Word Count: 3842
Notes: Here’s something about Cassian, our general. I hope you like it. As always, feel free to leave your comments, suggestions; everything is welcome as long as it's with the intention of teaching and with respect.
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.
Original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.
I appreciate any comments, reblogs, and likes I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
The twilight painted the horizon with purple and red flashes, its reflections dancing on the calm lake that bordered the base of the Illyrians. The cool air caressed her skin, laden with promises of a solitary and cold night, as the shadows of the mountains stretched, embracing the land in a dark cloak. She just wanted some time alone before the shared training with the rest of the Illyrians at dawn.
When Rhysand had informed her that the general would return to Ilyria from a mission that could have cost him his life, she asked him to ensure that everything was well with him and set off on her journey north to the Court. Y/N had been avoiding her mission partner since the last time they were together; she had successfully ignored him for quite some time. The wind blew from the mountains, trying to convince herself that she was only there out of obligation, to fulfill a promise, not because she missed him… or because she wanted to see him.
The sound of Cassian's wings resonated over the mountains, interrupting her moment, his powerful figure descending slowly with a grace that did not fit his imposing physique. He was supposed to return tomorrow at noon, but it seemed he had arrived early.
Y/N stood with her arms crossed, her gaze fixed on him, waiting for him to land on the training platform.
"I thought you would never return," Y/N murmured, her tone neutral, but the slight sparkle in her eyes betrayed the worry she was trying to hide. She tightened her arms across her chest, as if the simple act of maintaining distance would protect her from what she truly felt.
Cassian landed with imposing grace, his wings folding behind him. He approached her slowly, the arrogant smile curving his lips failing to conceal the exhaustion flickering in his eyes—a fatigue that echoed the weight he carried from his last mission. Yet even worn out, he couldn’t stop looking at her, his gaze intense and filled with unspoken questions.
"You know it’s not easy to kill me," he replied.
It was the first time they had exchanged words since that day, and the friction between them had grown. It wasn’t just the tension of a battlefield, but something deeper. The air around them felt thick. Y/N averted her gaze, pretending to observe the mountains, but she only needed a second to steady her breath. She knew the internal battle she was fighting was written in her eyes, and Cassian noticed.
He always did.
"Yes, well, even legends fall eventually," she replied, keeping her gaze fixed on the now-dark sky.
"Were you worried about me, Y/N?" Cassian asked as he took a step closer, his hazel eyes focusing on her.
Cassian's face showed hope, that spark that she might finally acknowledge what she had been trying so hard to hide. He could feel the anxiety coursing through her body every second, what he would give to have pulled her close as soon as he spotted her on the platform, waiting.
Waiting for him.
"No more than I would for any other soldier," she whispered while discreetly observing him.
"Sure. Because I'm just another soldier to you," he said with a laugh, a low, deep chuckle that vibrated in the air. It hurt him that she wouldn’t look at him, that she couldn’t see how much her words pained him, that she couldn’t see the power she had to destroy him if she wanted to.
Cassian always knew what to do to make Y/N lose her composure; he knew how to push her buttons. This time, when she heard his response, she could identify something more in his tone. Something she wasn’t ready to face.
It all started a year ago, on a crucial mission to stop a rebel group planning to attack Velaris. They were both assigned to the mission, and although they had always worked well together, this time was different. In the midst of the battle, as they tried to defend a nearby village, Y/N was gravely injured.
The world seemed to stop the moment he saw her fall, her figure collapsing like a leaf carried by the wind. A roar of fury erupted from deep within him at the sight of blood staining the ground around her. It wasn’t the first time he had seen someone injured in combat, but with Y/N, it was entirely different. Without a second thought, he lunged toward her, ignoring the danger, taking her to the safest place he could find, shielding her with his own body as arrows flew around them. He was willing to put his life on the line for hers.
"You can’t stay here!" Y/N had shouted, barely conscious, trying to stand despite the wound in her side. "You have to fight!"
"Shut up," Cassian had replied, pressing his hand against her wound to stop the bleeding. "I’m not going to let you die here."
Despite the urgency of the battle, something in that moment changed the dynamic between them. Y/N couldn’t stop looking at him while he held her, protecting her with everything he had. The fury in Cassian’s eyes wasn’t just for the fight. It was for her. The way he looked at her, as if she were the most important thing in the world, left her bewildered.
She had spent weeks recovering from her injuries, and Cassian had not left her side, caring for her with a dedication she hadn’t expected. It was during those days that something began to grow between them.
After her recovery, things had become tenser between them. During missions, the lingering glances, the accidental brushes, everything became a constant struggle to maintain control. They were both too proud, too reluctant to admit what was happening between them.
But what had really triggered the conflict was one particular night. After a long, exhausting expedition, when they were both worn out, Cassian had gotten too close. They had shared an intimate conversation, their barriers finally beginning to crumble. They had been drinking together, their bodies too close, and before they could stop, their lips met in a heated kiss, charged with everything they had been repressing.
But Y/N had stopped him. Just when things were getting more intense, she pushed him away, her breath ragged, and stepped back.
"We can’t do this, Cassian," she whispered, gasping.
"Why not?" he replied, looking at her, surprised and hurt.
"Because we can’t mix this with our work. I can’t afford to feel anything more for you. Not now." Her words had been harsh, but the truth was that she was scared. Cassian was too important, and the idea of losing him if something went wrong was unbearable.
She sighed, trying to relax and keep calm in the presence of the Illyrian.
"Why are you here, Cassian?" she finally asked, her voice softer than she had expected.
"I thought you might need to train after such a long time," he replied. "Though I should have asked, why are you here, Y/N?"
Training was just an excuse; the truth was that he had seen her from above as she tried to head to the cabin for the night. He could never confuse the silhouette of the woman who made his heart beat with more life. The moment they had shared weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had wondered if it was truly worth it, his mind replaying the sensation of their lips intertwined, how her fingers had tangled in his hair, how he had caressed her waist and the shiver she had given him.
Until she pushed him away.
Since that night, things had never been the same.
"You’re not in shape for that right now," he replied, evading her question, fiddling with one of the ribbons adorning his shirt.
"Why not? I’ve fought in worse conditions, darling," he reminded her.
She couldn’t help the shiver that coursed through her body at the endearing word, a nervousness that settled deep in her heart, warm and delightful. Only Cassian could have that effect on her. And it didn’t help that she now crossed her arms, mimicking his stance.
"You just got back, and you have a cut on your side," she acknowledged through clenched teeth, still not meeting his gaze, finding the tips of his shoes far more interesting.
Y/N had scanned Cassian’s body moments earlier, quickly assessing every scratch and bruise. It didn’t take long for her to realize that one of the wounds needed immediate attention.
“So, you were worried about me,” Cassian stated, his heart racing, knowing that even from a distance she could hear it.
“Only because Rhysand asked me to make sure you got here safely.”
Cassian stepped closer, closing the distance between them. He uncrossed his arms, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, restraining the urge to reach out and touch her fingers. She was so close, yet so far. And it was killing him, an agony he could barely endure.
“Are you sure?” he questioned, his gaze burning into her. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t care,” he demanded, his voice rough, not sure how much longer he could contain the flood of emotions waiting to burst free. Deep down, he hoped this would be the moment.
The wind picked up, causing Y/N to close her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath, allowing the cool air to clear her mind, though she knew she couldn’t escape for long. She knew his voice, his gaze, would betray her, revealing what she had been hiding so carefully—the reason she rarely let her guard down around him.
So, she turned toward the path leading to the cabin where they would spend the night, and he followed behind her.
“Y/N…” he stopped as she spoke.
“Don’t, Cassian. Don’t make things more complicated,” she growled.
“Complicated?” he repeated, quickening his pace to block her path. “Since when is feeling something complicated?” he asked, frustration lacing his words.
Her heart raced at his words.
"Always," she replied.
The Illyrian finally closed the distance between them, and she stopped abruptly, colliding with his chest in the process. He held her to keep her from falling.
The gentle touch of Cassian’s large hands on her hips sent an involuntary tremor through her body, a burning heat spreading from where he touched her, reaching deep within. The firmness and security of his grip made her realize that he was willing to do anything for her.
Y/N fixed her gaze on the steady look of the warrior. She knew she could no longer hide the truth. His hazel eyes were so beautiful, hypnotic; losing herself in them would always be an option for her.
He had admired Y/N from a distance, appreciating each of her features. He had been in love with her for some time now—her eyes, the shape of her lips, her laughter—all from afar. He would give anything for her to be his.
It had always been a push-and-pull, a game they both played far too well. If it went right, she would let her guard down for a moment, and Cassian would give her everything. Or they would start all over again.
"I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about what happens to you. And I know you can’t either," Cassian growled, fed up with the situation.
Y/N could feel the heat of his body, the scent of leather and metal that enveloped him. The weight of his words settled like a poisoned dagger piercing her heart. If this argument were a war, she was sure she would never win.
"It’s not that simple, Cassian," her voice barely a whisper.
"It is," he countered, leaning in to meet her eyes. "What’s not simple is pretending I don’t feel what I feel. I know you feel it too. Just say it, Y/N, and I’ll be yours," he pleaded.
She lowered her gaze, but he gently lifted her chin with a finger. He moved the hand that had rested on her hip, trailing it along her cheek, taking a loose strand of her hair that had escaped her braid. With all the tenderness in the world, with a gentleness that stripped her bare, he tucked the strand behind her pointed ear.
Instinctively, she closed her eyes, fighting against the torrent of emotions threatening to overflow—a battle to resist that soft caress despite the warrior's calloused fingers.
He was right. She had lost. She had fought to keep the walls up. But with Cassian… those walls were useless.
“It’s dangerous,” she finally murmured.
“When have I ever cared about danger, Y/N?” he said, smiling—a soft smile.
When she opened her eyes, she really looked at him. Cassian's gaze had softened. She would give anything for him to always look at her with that intensity, with the affection he was showing at that moment. She knew that, no matter how much she wanted to pull away, no matter how much she wanted to protect herself, there was no turning back.
“Don’t,” she warned, but it was already too late.
Cassian tilted his head, his lips brushing hers—just a light touch, almost a question, giving her one last chance to stop him. But she didn’t. Their lips met in a kiss full of repressed emotions, everything they had denied, everything they had left unsaid.
He held her, his wings spreading behind him like a shield, protecting her from everything else. In that moment, there was no war, no missions, no duty to fulfill. Just the two of them, surrounded by the night breeze, the stars shining brighter than ever, and the warmth of two bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.
When they pulled apart, both were breathing heavily. The air around them seemed lighter, but the pounding of their hearts still echoed in their ears.
Y/N moved slightly away, resting her forehead against Cassian's. The silence that followed was as important as the words. There was no need to speak. For the first time in a long while, she allowed the silence to be her refuge.
"Now everything will be more complicated," she murmured against Cassian's lips, unable to suppress a slight smile.
"I like complicated," he said with a broad grin, his eyes shining with a warmth that made her heart race even faster.
She slowly unraveled her arms from around Cassian’s neck and held his hand. It was night, and in a couple of hours, they had to train the Illyrians.
"Where are we going?" he asked, curious, as she resumed the path toward the cabin.
"You need to shower, you smell bad andand that wound needs some attention," she said with a playful smile.
Cassian chuckled softly, and though the air between them was still charged, the sound of his laughter made Y/N's shoulders relax, just a little.
"Now you'll be my personal healer," he murmured.
"Maybe, if you're good."
He let go of her hand just to pull her against his chest, holding her gently by the waist as they walked together, their bodies brushing against each other, with him right behind her.
"I like that," he whispered in her ear. A shiver ran down Y/N's spine, settling warmly in her belly.
They arrived at the cabin, and it felt like death itself to part from each other. She headed to the small bathroom, where she grabbed a first aid kit filled with all the essentials.
The warlord had seated himself in one of the dining chairs, and when he heard her footsteps approaching, he gifted her a smile. She returned it.
Y/N placed the kit on the table, opened it, and took out the disinfectant to clean his wound. Cassian stripped off his upper leather gear, and she lost her breath at the sight of his broad shoulders, his chest adorned with dark tattoos that extended over his muscular arms and down to his defined abdomen. She did her best to keep her hands from trembling.
Cassian watched as she leaned in just enough to reach the cut on his left side, secretly enjoying the nervousness she tried to hide. Y/N carefully cleaned the area to ensure no dirt would come into contact with the injured skin when he showered, then applied a balm to help with the pain and speed up healing, finally covering it with a bandage. Luckily, the wound wasn't deep enough to require stitches—it would hold through the night until a healer in Velaris could check it again.
He didn't complain about the pain; he was used to it from countless battles since his youth. But the gentleness of Y/N as she tended to him was killing him. It was the first time anyone had treated him with such tenderness. Cassian felt her touch on his skin, watched the concentration on her face, each of her movements, wishing she could keep touching him forever.
"You’ll survive," she announced, meeting his gaze. "You should go shower; I’ll heat up some food."
Cassian didn’t argue and showered as quickly as he could to get back to her, careful not to disturb the bandage. On the table, there was some soup, stew, cheese, and bread. The warmth that filled his heart was priceless, but it had a name.
Seated at the table, they enjoyed the meal and each other's company in silence. She savored the peace of the moment, wishing it could last forever.
"Thank you," Cassian whispered, his voice filled with affection, "for... taking care of me, for the food."
"We should rest," she simply responded.
Y/N could still feel the tension in the air, even after the peaceful dinner. But Cassian wasn't going to let more time pass, not after that kiss. When she stood up from the chair, he gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap. She didn’t resist. Sitting with her thighs on either side of his hips, her chest pressed against his, their faces were just a breath away from kissing.
He couldn't help but imagine having her like this every day, every hour, every minute, for the rest of his life. To unite his soul with hers, becoming one.
"Forgive me, Cassian. I'm sorry for avoiding you all this time. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to tell you how much you mean to me, and that there isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about how much it hurts to even consider losing you every time you leave. I'm scared that if I close my eyes one day, you won’t be there anymore," Y/N's broken voice interrupted his thoughts.
He wiped away a tear that had slipped down her cheek without her realizing. Cassian, with reverent care, making sure not to touch her bandage, caressed her as if his entire existence depended on that touch. He placed a hand on her neck, his fingers gently tracing her skin with infinite tenderness before pulling her into a slow kiss. A kiss that promised more than words, a kiss that would last an eternity, as if there was nothing else in the world he wanted more than to be with her forever.
He was the first to pull away, watching her tear-filled eyes, her cheeks flushed from silent crying.
"I would drag myself home," he murmured while kissing her right cheek, "even if I were on the verge of death, because it means that my home is with you." He kissed her left cheek. "I would come back to life if I had to, just so I wouldn’t make you cry," and he finished with his lips brushing hers. A promise of life, even if his body lay cold and alone on the ground, he would crawl back to her.
"I love you, Cassian," she confessed softly in his ear. "I would do anything; I would be willing to trade my life for yours."
Those words echoed through his body like adrenaline rushing through him before a battle. He had longed for Y/N’s heart to sing along to a symphony composed by both of them. He pulled her closer to him.
"I love you, my sweet Y/N," Cassian murmured, his voice rough and filled with an unbreakable truth as his fingers tangled in her hair. "Even if you would sacrifice your life for mine, my existence would mean nothing without you. You are the reason my heart beats and my soul remains alive."
She felt regret for having wasted time in doubt, but at the same time, it had led her to the arms of the man she loved.
Cassian kissed her neck, caressing her back up and down her spine, feeling the warmth radiating from her. He wanted the moment to last, to feel her on his body, to feel her heart beating in sync with his.
"We should rest, my love," he whispered gently.
"Yes, you must be tired," Y/N apologized as she pulled away from him.
He wiped away the remaining tears from her cheeks and kissed her nose, regardless of her state.
"I'm just saying I would love to sleep with you right now; the chair isn’t comfortable for resting," he murmured, his voice hoarse.
"You're right," she laughed, a watery laugh.
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the small room, gently placing her on the floor to allow her to prepare for a nap. There were only a few hours left until dawn. Cassian grabbed some extra blankets to ward off the cold that permeated the room, though he always felt wrapped in a warmth that no blanket could provide when he was with her.
He waited patiently lying on the bed. When she finished, he spread the blanket so she could lie down beside him, pulling her into his chest as she rested her head there. Together, wrapped in blankets, Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the steady heartbeat of Cassian beneath her head. The future remained uncertain—missions, war... but in that moment, with their bodies close.
Two souls destined to be together, a kiss sealed with the promise of a tomorrow was enough.
*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.
Tags: @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden
A/N: I rewrote this at least 4 times or maybe more, I felt like it wasn't perfect but now I'm satisfied with the result. I hope you like it, let me know what you think. Love you guys.
Our general, I love him ❤️
A breath
Pairing: Azriel x female reader
Summary: In the silent embrace of the night, Azriel found in Y/N the comfort he never knew he needed.
Warning: Fluffy comfort, I think that's it.
Word count: 1120
Notes: I believe many creators have written similar pieces, so this may not be a new concept. Feel free to leave your comments, suggestions; everything is welcome as long as it's with the intention of teaching and with respect.
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.
Original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.
I appreciate any comments, reblogs, and likes I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
The night in Velaris always had something special, but this one, in particular, felt magical. The gentle murmur of the Sidra River, the mild air filled with the scent of night-blooming flowers, and the clear sky full of stars that seemed to shine only for those willing to observe them closely.
Azriel was flying back to the House of Wind. He had had one of those long days, the kind where the exhaustion wasn’t just physical but emotional too. Azriel had spent hours training the Illyrians, dealing with disputes, and making sure everything ran smoothly in the Night Court.
Y/N had seen him enter, his posture stiff, and the shadows around him more restless than usual. Since they had begun spending more time together, she had learned to read him, to notice when he was tired or when something bothered him, even if he never said it. That night, however, something inside her told her that Azriel needed more than just company; he needed someone to care for him for once.
Without a word, Y/N followed him to the sitting room where Azriel usually sat after his missions or training, right next to the large window that offered a panoramic view of the city. He was there, staring out at the horizon, the stars reflecting in his golden eyes, but without his usual spark.
With a soft smile, Y/N entered and walked up to him. She sat beside him in silence, respecting his need for quiet. She didn’t need to ask what was wrong; she knew him well enough to know he would speak if he wanted to.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before she suddenly got up and said, "I’ll be back in a moment."
Azriel watched her leave the room without asking where she was going. In his mind, the shadows kept whispering, but there was something about Y/N’s presence that calmed them slightly. She always made him feel less alone, less lost.
A little while later, Y/N returned with a cup of hot tea in her hands and a couple of blankets. Without asking, she offered him the tea and then draped one of the blankets over his legs.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Azriel asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.
Y/N shrugged, smiling. "Taking care of you. You look exhausted."
Azriel took the cup of tea, surprised by how comforting such a simple gesture could be. No one usually took care of him like that. He was always the one looking out for others, the one protecting, the one watching over his loved ones from the shadows. But with Y/N... she made him feel like someone worthy of being cared for.
Y/N sat back down beside him, wrapping herself in a blanket, and gently snuggled up against him. At first, Azriel tensed reflexively, but then he relaxed when she intertwined her fingers with his, softly caressing his scarred hand. Though he hated the scars for the horrible memories they brought him, Y/N didn’t feel the same. To her, they were part of his story.
The touch was so light, so intimate, that it surprised him how much it soothed him.
"Do you feel better?" she whispered, without looking directly at him, her focus on the nighttime view of Velaris.
Azriel gently squeezed her hand in response. "Yes... much better," he answered softly.
The peace he had been searching for all day, the calm he so longed for, he found there, in that moment, sitting next to Y/N, with her hand in his and her warmth comforting him.
"You know," Y/N continued in a low voice, "you don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your own. You can rest, lean on someone every now and then."
Azriel remained silent for a moment, his thoughts deep. Y/N’s words resonated with him in a way that few things ever did. He was so used to being the shield for everyone else, to protect and care, that he rarely allowed himself to be vulnerable, even for a moment.
"Thank you," he finally whispered, his voice full of sincerity. "For this. For... taking care of me."
Y/N lifted her head to look at him, her smile soft and understanding. "I’ll always do it, Az. Anytime you need it," she told him, a promise between them.
Azriel turned to her, his eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, something inside him broke, in the most beautiful way possible. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against Y/N’s, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply, letting her closeness envelop him completely.
They remained like that, together in the stillness, simply enjoying the peace they had found in each other. For Azriel, it was a reminder that it was okay to be vulnerable, that he didn’t always have to be strong—at least not with Y/N. And for her, it was a moment of tenderness, knowing that, although Azriel was a warrior in the shadows, in her arms he would always have a place to rest.
"Come," Y/N said softly, shifting a bit and pulling him down. "Let’s relax a little more."
Azriel let her guide him, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa as she nestled at his side, resting her head on his chest. His wings instinctively moved to wrap around them, creating a warm, protective barrier.
"I promise tomorrow will be better," Y/N whispered, her fingers gently playing with the dark strands of Azriel’s hair.
Azriel smiled for the first time all day, his hand softly caressing Y/N’s back. "With someone like you by my side, it will be."
Y/N kissed his cheek, and the spymaster blushed.
Under the blankets, under the night’s veil and the shelter of Azriel’s wings, they both found comfort in each other. A shared peace that didn’t need grand words or elaborate gestures—just a simple promise to always be there for one another.
*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33.
A/N: After an angst-filled Azriel x reader it's only fair to have a fluffy one. I hope you liked it and I'm sorry it was short, let me know what you think. Kisses, love you guys.
Our beloved man 💙💙💙👄
The Great War
Pairing: Lucien x Female Reader
Summary: If they survive the great war, will they dare to love each other?
Warning: Angst, tension, death, but nothing graphic. I think that's all, let me know if something is missing.
Word count: 3625
Notes: I hope you enjoy this story about our favorite redhead. As always, feel free to leave your comments, suggestions, everything is welcome as long as it is respectful and with the aim to teach.
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.
This is an original story, written by me. Please do not copy or plagiarize my work.
I appreciate any comments, reblogs, and likes I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
“Elain, where is Lucien?” Y/N asked, gasping.
Things had gone wrong; the war was unfolding too close to both women, and their friend had disappeared.
“I don’t know,” she replied, in shock.
Elain had killed the king of Hybern; she still held the Truth-Telling in her delicate, blood-covered hands. She had been very brave to plunge the dagger into his heart. So she thought her favorite redhead would be with her.
The Illyrian scanned the battlefield, straining her vision as much as she could, trying to distinguish among all the heads that made up the war legion led by Cassian.
But that red spark was not among them.
A sense of panic began to engulf her body; her fingers started to go numb, and her breathing quickened.
She heard footsteps approaching, crunching the fallen leaves that covered the forest; she turned too quickly when the noise reached her ears, but disappointment crossed her eyes.
It wasn’t Lucien; it was Nesta.
“Have you seen Lucien?” she asked again, hopefully.
Nesta arrived beside Elain, checking on how her sister was doing.
“No,” she replied coldly. “The last time I saw him, he arrived with the ships. He’s probably among the dead,” she added. She only cared about the well-being of sweet, delicate Elain—only her and her own.
Hearing that, with the breath she had left, she dashed into the center of the battle, praying to the gods that the harsh words of the older Archeron wouldn’t come true.
With her sword in hand and senses alert, she ran and ran, shouting the redhead’s name.
“Lucien! Lucien!” she cried desperately over and over; a knot was beginning to form in her throat.
She killed the enemies who crossed her path, stabbing and pulling the sword out of each body and its clothes, getting more and more covered in blood.
One blow, then two, the steel ringing in her ears. And there was no sign of the fox.
Fatigue was beginning to take over her body, her heart racing. A few meters away, she saw the body of the general, exhausted like everyone around him.
“Cas… Cassian!” she shouted with a hoarse voice.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” he said, surprised to see the healer in such a dangerous place. “Are you crazy?” he yelled, frightened upon seeing her tunic stained with red liquid and the sword in the same state. “You could’ve been killed. You need to go back with the others. This place isn’t safe, and where did you find that?”
“Have you seen Lucien?” she whispered, exhausted, ignoring everything her brother had said.
“Did you hear what I said? You’re going to get a sword through your heart; go back to the healers’ camp right now,” the warrior ordered.
Just then, a man appeared behind the Illyrian, trying to kill him. And as if she were the wind itself, she moved as quickly as the desperation coursing through her veins. With the agility of a hawk, she cut off his head, and the general could only watch in shock.
While her sister had been training for years, he never thought she would possess such skill, let alone put it to the test.
Until now.
“Damn!” he whispered softly to himself. “Who taught you that?” he asked, curious and a touch proud.
“Tell me if you’ve seen Lucien Vanserra,” she insisted to her brother.
“The last time I saw him, he was near the other side of the forest, with Vassa,” he informed her, sweat and dirt covering his face. “And have you seen Azriel?” he questioned.
“I thought he was with you,” she replied.
Now two males were missing.
“Great, we’ll have to search for them among all the bodies,” he said, exhaling and praying not to find them among the lifeless limbs.
Both headed toward the place where they last saw Lucien, hoping to find the Shadow Singer with him.
The line between saving and killing began to blur as the battle continued.
The two moved quickly through the chaos, the sound of clashing swords and screams filling the air. Her heart raced, her eyes frantically scanning the battlefield for any trace of the fox or the Shadow Singer.
In the distance, they saw a red flash among the tangle of warriors, and Y/N immediately recognized Lucien's unmistakable hair.
He stood fighting with a ferocity she had never seen in him before. His movements were precise, lethal, and his skill with the sword was evident as he took down one enemy after another.
The healer felt a mix of relief and awe. She had run through the battlefield, convinced that the redhead was injured or worse. But seeing him in action, fighting with such skill, ignited a new spark of hope within her.
However, not everything was in his favor. Despite his prowess, he was surrounded, outnumbered by several enemy soldiers.
Y/N and Cassian exchanged a quick glance, knowing they had to intervene.
“Cassian, to the left!” she shouted as she charged toward the enemy's right flank, her sword gleaming in the air.
The warrior nodded and moved with the speed of a predator to the other side, attacking the soldiers surrounding Lucien. She arrived just in time to block a strike that would have injured her friend.
Lucien cast her a quick look of acknowledgment, a spark of gratitude in his eyes, but there was no time for words. Together, the three of them fought, forming a small but impenetrable barrier against the enemies.
After a series of deadly blows, the enemies began to retreat, leaving them standing, breathing heavily amid the chaos. The fox lowered his sword, his face covered in sweat and dirt but unscathed.
“Y/N…” he began, his voice hoarse from exertion.
She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and anger.
“I was about to lose my mind looking for you!” she exclaimed, though the relief in her voice was undeniable.
Lucien felt the tension in his battle-worn muscles ease at her words.
He took a step closer, closing the space between them, and wrapped her in a firm, swift embrace filled with intensity. It wasn’t the gesture of a friend or someone merely grateful. It was something deeper, something that had been silent for too long.
When they pulled apart, his hands lingered on her waist for a second longer, as if he didn’t want to let her go so quickly.
Cassian also chimed in, a crooked smile on his face.
“Well, now that the fox is safe, has anyone seen Azriel?”
The general had already begun scanning the area, as if expecting to spot his winged brother in some corner of the battlefield.
“He can’t be far,” he murmured, a mix of hope and urgency in his voice.
Lucien was alert too, his gaze focused on the chaos around them.
“The last time I saw him, he was facing a group of soldiers near the river,” he added, wiping the blood from his sword into the fabric of his pants.
They barely had time to recover before the weight of worry for Azriel hit them again.
Without a second thought, Y/N began to move in that direction, her heart pounding in her ears. The ground was littered with bodies, both allies and enemies alike, making every step more difficult.
The sounds of combat still echoed; as they approached the area Lucien had mentioned, they found remnants of a fierce battle. The marks on the ground and the fallen bodies made it clear that a strong fight had taken place there.
Then, Y/N spotted one of the daggers from the Master of Spies, embedded in a soldier’s chest.
“This is Az’s,” she announced softly, picking up the bloodied weapon.
The two males quickly moved closer. The trail of blood continued, leading toward the thick underbrush near the river. They began to follow it, their hearts filled with fear for what they might find.
Among the trees, she distinguished a fallen figure among the branches and leaves.
“Azriel!” she shouted, running toward him.
The Illyrian lay on the ground, his wings spread out with a deep wound in his side. His breathing was irregular, but he was conscious. Around him, several fallen bodies indicated that he had fought to his last breath.
With evident effort, he tried to sit up upon seeing his friend approach.
“No… I’m…” he tried to say, his voice barely a whisper.
The healer fell to her knees beside him, her trembling hands assessing the severity of the wound. Lucien and Cassian arrived a moment later, watching with concern.
“Stay with us,” she murmured, trying to contain the wave of relief she felt at finding him alive.
“Y/N,” Cassian interjected, looking around, alert for more enemies.
She began to work immediately at the urgency in her brother’s voice. Her healing magic started to flow from her hands into Azriel’s body, but it wasn’t easy. The wound was deep, and while the magic could stop the bleeding, the Shadow Singer needed more time to heal completely.
Azriel looked at her with those eyes full of gratitude, though he could barely speak.
“It’s… nothing. Just… another wound,” he said with a weak smile.
Cassian and Lucien had kept watch around them, protecting them while Y/N worked. At that moment, there was only one thing on her mind: keeping Azriel alive.
“He’s stable,” she announced, her hands stained with her friend’s blood. “We need to move; we can’t stay here any longer.”
Lucien stepped closer to Y/N and helped her up. Meanwhile, Cassian moved closer to his brother.
“You did well,” he whispered to her.
She relaxed her shoulders, if only for a moment. Her body was growing weary. They needed to reach the healer camp soon.
He prepared to help the general move the Master of Spies. The four of them headed toward the camp.
Along the way, they dispatched more soldiers, the three of them taking turns to protect Azriel. The war lord had his brother’s arm around his neck, while his sister and the male who would soon become his brother-in-law— or so he hoped—fought against every enemy. The two moved in perfect sync, a well-executed dance.
They were only a few meters away; soon they stopped when the sound of clashing steel and the cries of the wounded began to fade.
The echo of war drums, which had resonated loudly across the battlefield, slowly quieted into a distant murmur.
In the distance, the remaining enemy forces retreated. Victory was theirs, but there was no celebration on the faces of the survivors, only exhaustion and pain. The silence that followed was deafening.
After so many hours of chaos, the calm felt surreal.
Cassian, still breathing heavily, raised his sword in a sign of triumph, though his eyes filled with sadness at the sight of his army's losses. The remaining Illyrian warriors raised their fists in the air.
The end had come, but at a cost that would resonate within them for a long time.
Y/N looked around, searching for her friends. In the distance, she saw Feyre embracing Rhysand; her gaze located Mor not far away, Amren, and the rest of the High Lords.
“It’s over,” she murmured, almost in disbelief. The words felt strange on her lips, as if the idea of peace were foreign after so long of fighting.
“Yes, we did it,” Cassian said, his voice deep but tinged with relief. However, there was no smile on his face, only a glance toward the fallen, those who would not see the end of the war.
The air smelled of ash and blood. The rays of the sun began to break over the horizon, bathing the battlefield in a golden light, as if the world wanted to forget the darkness it had just witnessed.
With one last look at the field, the general gestured to the few remaining warriors, ordering them to return to camp.
The group began to walk back as well, helping Azriel to stay upright.
The three entered the tent that the Master of Spies occupied; Cassian carefully placed Azriel on the makeshift bed.
The healer searched for some water to bring down his fever. The effort her friend had put forth during the journey was taking its toll on his body. She placed a cloth on his forehead and let him rest.
“I’ll go attend to the other wounded,” she told the general, leaving some tea on the table. “When he wakes up, make sure he drinks it. I’ll be nearby.”
“Your father would be proud of you,” he suddenly said, his gaze fixed on his brother’s body.
Her heart began to race. It had been a long time since anyone had mentioned her father. Her father, who had given his life for her; she couldn’t remember anything about him. He had left centuries ago.
Lucien felt the tension in the air, so he quietly slipped out of the tent.
“And Mom would be proud of you,” he replied; her eyes met her brother’s.
Cassian approached her and wrapped his arms around her. His heart raced with fear at having seen Y/N with a sword in hand and blood staining her clothes. He hugged her tighter, and she returned his affection.
“Next time, let me know you’ll be with us. I almost went to the Mother when I saw you running to your lover. Very romantic,” he whispered in her ear, his voice breaking, and kissed her forehead.
No matter what, she was his little sister. The one he had watched grow up and had tucked in a few times; he would always protect her.
Her cheeks flushed; she was sure he would never stop teasing her about it.
“Enough! I have to go; take care of Az.” A smile spread across her face.
The general only chuckled, a low laugh. A sign that things would get better soon.
Lucien had settled under a tree near the camp where Y/N was working. He watched her move skillfully among the bodies, just as she had on the battlefield. He hadn’t seen her wield a weapon in years.
And when he saw her saving a life, his mind flooded with the first time he met her; she had pointed a dagger at his throat, and today, she had thrust a sword into someone else's throat.
For him.
The fact that she, so strong and brave, had traversed the chaos of the battlefield with him in mind left him momentarily bewildered. A mix of warmth and vulnerability settled in his chest.
It was different from what he had felt with Elain. With her, there was an inevitable, mystical connection dictated by the bond. But this, what he shared with Y/N, felt real. Human.
It wasn't based on ancient magic or a predestined tie, but on something more tangible, more painfully beautiful. For a moment, he wondered if he deserved that concern, but seeing her face, he knew it didn’t matter.
She had done it. And that changed everything.
The female smiled at him from afar. He could see her eyes shining with adoration when he returned the gesture.
His heart raced with the intensity of an electric jolt; he felt his cheeks heat up, and his soul flooded with warmth as she approached. For the first time in his life, he felt very nervous. The palms of his hands began to sweat, and his breath quickened; that was the effect she had on him.
“How are you?” she asked; he didn’t know what to say. Lucien’s mind was occupied memorizing her face—her eyes, her lips, the shape of her nose, every detail he could absorb from her.
“I’m fine,” she said, laughing at seeing her redhead distracted.
No one could lie to Lucien Vanserra; he could see through her that she was tired, exhausted. Even though she smiled, he knew her perfectly.
The redhead stepped closer and embraced her. Y/N leaned against his toned body and sighed. They both needed that, to be in each other’s arms.
He held her while stroking her back slowly and soothingly. He inhaled her scent. Despite the blood, mud, and sweat, Lucien felt at home.
He had grown accustomed to being the outcast, and he had finally found his home.
She was his home.
She always had been, and it was time to accept it.
With a gentle motion, he pulled her away from his body; he held her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks.
She focused her gaze on Lucien's eyes, a beautiful golden color and another mechanical reddish hue, so lovely. In her eyes, he had always been beautiful; she could spend hours admiring his beauty. Perhaps a whole lifetime if they were allowed.
But maybe that would never happen. The mere thought made her chest ache.
Lucien kissed her forehead, and instinctively she closed her eyes. The redhead moved and leaned against the tree, making space between his legs and gesturing for her to sit. Y/N's back met Lucien's warm chest, and a sigh escaped her lips.
Their breaths intertwined as he pulled her closer with his strong arms.
“One of the wounded didn’t make it,” she whispered, his voice breaking, “and his wife will be waiting for him to come home…”
The dam broke, and the weight of guilt settled in the air. Tears flowed freely, and Lucien wiped each one away, holding her close and sharing her pain; his Y/N had been so brave. And he could never blame her for that.
“You did the best you could,” he murmured, kissing the crown of her head. “My beautiful and brave Y/N.”
She turned; her gaze roamed his face, and she could see his eyes shining with deep affection. Y/N leaned in, their foreheads touching, debating whether to cross the line.
Lucien placed his hand on the woman’s neck, tangling his fingers in her silky hair. Closer and closer, their lips brushed together, and he couldn’t resist any longer. He gently drew her in, giving her the chance to pull away; but she closed the space, and their lips met in a kiss filled with all the affection they held.
They separated, breathing heavily.
Lucien kissed her nose, and she embraced him, burying her head in his neck.
“I would run into every necessary war just to be in your arms,” her voice muffled against the redhead’s shirt. “I will always find you.”
The redhead's heart stopped for a second upon hearing those words. He felt the intensity of the moment, the warmth of the healer's body enveloping him like the only thing keeping him standing after the battle.
He slowly released the embrace; but without stepping away, their chests were still pressed together. He gently stroked her hair and tucked a strand behind her ear. He softly traced the base of her neck until his hand rested on her cheek.
He looked at her, and the world made sense again.
“I love you, Y/N,” he said quietly, his gaze deep and warm. “I don’t know how to make grand promises or beautiful speeches, but… Every time I close my eyes, it’s your face I see. Every time I think about what I want… it’s always to be with you.”
He paused for a moment, as if the words were a weight he had finally decided to bear.
“You’re the reason I keep going,” he added, his voice soft yet firm. “And I don’t care if the world changes or if everything collapses around us. My heart will always find its way back to you.”
Y/N’s pulse quickened. She felt the heat of his body, the way his words wrapped around her like a dangerous promise, impossible to ignore. Lucien's eyes, the golden and the metallic, looked at her with an intensity that made her hold her breath.
“But… Elain. She’s your mate,” she interjected.
“She’ll be fine.”
He knew that Elain and Azriel spent too much time together, and she would be okay in the arms of the Master of Spies.
“And you, will you be okay?” she asked curiously, wishing for him to stay with her.
Lucien chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the woman’s chest.
“My soul is right where it wants to be, by your side, darling,” he said. He gently drew her in, and their lips met in a sweet kiss.
In the air vibrated a promise: together, they would face every battle to come. They would make the world burn for each other to be together again.
At the entrance of Azriel's tent, the general saw how two of the most important people in his life were with the ones they belonged to.
The seer was stroking Azriel's hair, and the fox was smiling at Y/N as if she brought forth the sun each morning.
The sunset gave way to night, and Cassian knew that tomorrow would be a better day.
*divider by @tsunami-of-tears , thank you <33
A/N: A/N: It took me a while to write this one shot, it may not even be perfect and it may have some spelling mistakes, but I didn't want to waste any more time lol. You can always tell me what you think about this. I hope you liked it. I love you guys.
I'm also a Lucien girl 👄🧡✨
A Little Interruption
Pairing: Lorcan Salvaterre x Female Reader
Summary: Even the shadows know how to find the light of day.
Warning: Fluff
Word Count: 1239
Notes: I hope you enjoy this story by Lorcan. As always, let me know your comments, suggestions, everything is welcome as long as it is with the motivation to teach and with respect.
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.
Original story, I wrote it myself. Please do not copy or plagiarize my story.
I appreciate the comments, reblogs, and likes I receive.
Happy reading!
Master list
The cool breeze and afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of Orynth's castle.
The grand hall was filled with serious conversations, military strategies, and tactical discussions.
Aelin sat at the end of the long wooden table, with her characteristic regal bearing. Next to her, Rowan remained silent, as always, vigilant and attentive. Gavriel, Aedion, Fenrys, and other members of the queen’s inner circle were in their designated seats at the table, discussing details of recent missions and alternate routes for upcoming journeys. The atmosphere was comfortable, almost familiar, despite the seriousness of the topic.
Lorcan remained in his usual spot, arms crossed, his expression tense as always. He was focused on the conversation until he heard a light knock at the door. He barely paid attention at first, thinking it was a servant. But when the door opened slightly, and a small head peeked in, he knew his peace had come to an end.
With light steps, his small daughter, with dark hair and bright eyes, entered the room, holding a little cookie in her hands. Her blue dress swayed around her as she ran towards Lorcan, completely oblivious to the seriousness of the environment.
“Daddy,” she said with her little voice, drawing the attention of everyone present, “I brought you a cookie.”
Lorcan sighed, but his expression softened the moment his eyes met his daughter’s. He stretched out his hand and took the cookie she offered with a shy smile.
“Thank you, little one,” he murmured, whispering something only she could hear, as he patted her head.
“Aww, how cute!” Fenrys teased, never missing the chance to enjoy the spectacle.
Aedion smirked, exchanging an amused glance with Rowan. Aelin, sitting across the table, hid a smile behind her fingers.
“Daddy’s busy now, sweetheart,” Lorcan said gently. “Go to your mom, alright?”
Rosella nodded eagerly and, with a giggle, left the room again. It wasn’t long before the door opened once more, and the same little figure ran towards Lorcan again. This time, she held a slightly battered flower that she had plucked from one of the gardens.
“Daddy, this is for you.”
Lorcan blinked, and this time, a murmur of laughter rippled through the table. Fenrys couldn’t contain a chuckle.
“A flower? Well, Lorcan, it seems you’ve won over the ladies,” he said with a mocking grin.
Aelin let out a giggle, and Rowan gave her a knowing look. Lorcan, with his usual limited patience, carefully took the flower and placed it on the table.
“Thank you, honey,” he said, almost resigned. “But I need you to go to your mom now.”
Once again, the little girl left, but not five minutes passed before the door opened again, this time without even a knock. The little one burst in, a wide smile on her face and a folded handkerchief in her hands.
“Daddy, I found this. Is it yours?”
Lorcan dropped his head back, visibly testing his patience while the others struggled to contain their laughter. This time, even Gavriel, usually the most serious, couldn’t help but smile at the child’s persistence.
“Daddy, it’s your handkerchief,” she said, as if it were the most important thing in the world.
Lorcan took the handkerchief and tucked it into his cloak, while the little one stood firmly beside him, not moving.
“Thank you, my girl,” he said softly, before trying again: “Now, go to your mom.”
Before the little one could leave, the door opened once more. This time, it was Y/N who appeared at the doorway, a playful smile on her face.
“Am I interrupting something important?” she asked, her voice soft but clearly amused as she looked at Lorcan with a glint in her eyes. “It seems someone can’t be away from their father for long.”
The girl ran towards her mother, but before reaching her, she spun on her heels and ran back to hug Lorcan’s legs.
“I don’t want to go!” she said firmly, clinging to her father as if her life depended on it.
Aelin, completely amused by the situation, decided to seize the moment.
“Oh no, let her stay,” she said, grinning mischievously. “It’s adorable to see Lorcan’s softer side, isn’t it, boys?”
Fenrys burst out laughing.
“I never thought I’d see the day Lorcan Salvaterre would be tamed by a five-year-old girl,” Fenrys shot Lorcan a mocking grin. “You’re completely done for, brother.”
Lorcan shot a murderous glare at Fenrys, though it was hard to intimidate anyone when a small child was clinging to his legs, insisting on staying with her “daddy.”
“If you keep talking, Fenrys,” Lorcan said in a low, threatening voice, “you’re going to wish you hadn’t when I’m done with you on the training field.”
Fenrys leaned back, feigning fear as the others laughed.
“And here I thought I’d seen everything,” Aedion added, leaning against the table as he looked at the little girl. “Maybe we should take her to the next battle. She clearly has power over you that none of us have.”
Y/N smiled as she watched the scene, crossing her arms with a satisfied expression. She knew Lorcan would never admit how much he had changed since their daughter came into their lives. He was still the relentless warrior everyone knew, but with them, with his family, he had found a kind of peace that no bloodiest battle could ever offer.
Rose, ignoring the buzz around her, leaned against her father’s knee and, with a sweetness that would melt the hardest heart, bent to kiss his cheek. Lorcan remained still for a moment, completely bewildered, while a slight blush crossed his face. The others could barely contain their amusement.
“Now,” the little one whispered, snuggling into Lorcan’s neck, and with a deep sigh, let exhaustion take over.
Lorcan glanced sideways at her, completely unable to stay impassive. As gently as possible, he shifted his daughter in his arms, settling her against his chest. The little girl sank against him, her breathing slow and calm, and Lorcan let out a soft sigh, resigned to the situation.
The momentary silence was broken by Fenrys, who leaned forward with a mischievous smile on his face.
“If I weren’t seeing it, I’d never believe it,” he muttered, while the others exchanged amused glances.
Lorcan didn’t respond. His attention was entirely focused on the small figure asleep in his arms, his demeanor now relaxed, with a softness he almost never showed. He leaned down, pressing his lips to his daughter’s forehead in a delicate kiss.
“Looks like you’re no longer the scariest person in the room, Lorcan,” Rowan teased, though his voice also held a note of admiration.
Lorcan simply rolled his eyes and threw a quick glance at her, who had now moved closer to him. She smiled, gently touching their daughter’s arm before leaning down to kiss Lorcan’s forehead.
“I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen,” Y/N whispered.
He returned her look, a glint of affection in his eyes.
“Don’t get used to it,” he replied, though the slight smile on his face betrayed his words.
With the little Rosella soundly asleep on his chest and Y/N’s warm presence by his side, Lorcan let the rest of the meeting continue around him, though he couldn’t help but notice the knowing glances everyone was casting his way.
For the first time in his life, perhaps, he didn’t mind.
*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33
A/N: I had baby fever these past few weeks so I made Lorcan a dad, I hope you enjoyed it. It's probably not necessary for a 5 year old to speak extremely well or maybe it is, I rarely hang out with kids so I'm not sure lol
I love you guys 💛.
tags: @sidthedollface2 Sorry it took me so long and I hope you enjoyed it, kisses 😚.
A strong but gentle warrior 👄💘
s1 daryl was so baby ☹️☹️
Making friends on tumblr is weird. It’s like “Hi, I don’t know where you’re from but I know your kinks and exactly how depressed you were last Tuesday.”
Guys 🌃
Hi, I know I've been away and you've still been supporting my writing, I'll try to catch up and write a lot this year ✨ I sincerely hope you've had a wonderful start to the year and above all I wish you much success in every stage you begin, for a year full of many fascinating books and stories 📕🩷 I love you guys 🎀
|Sandra🪻.
I Found a Smile
Cassian raised an eyebrow and, still smiling, asked in a provocative tone: "Are you good with a bow?" "I'm very good, want to test it?" Her voice was low and sharp, like the blade of a knife. "If you want, I can shoot an arrow through your forehead. Or, if you prefer, through your heart." Azriel couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips; a flicker of emotion ran through him for the first time in a long while.
This is a little preview of what I'm working on, I hope to have it out soon. I just want to say that even though this sounds good or so I think, it will probably have a bittersweet ending.
I'm trying to get through my writing block, after prioritizing my personal stuff.
Let me know your comments and if you want me to tag you, Ily 💌.
Hiii!!!
I'm back, I'll be working on some things I left pending, I've been a little stressed about university but nothing that can't be solved. I hope to finish a fic I've been working on soon and as always, I'll be happy to read you here. 💙
I love you guys 💌✨
Hello my friend, I am a hadiah from Gaza.
Can you help my children and donate evetn a little
I was working as a lawyer to bring justice, and now you are the ones who will bring justice to me...We lost our jobs, our homes, all our belongings, we became homeless.. Asking for help is not easy, but saving lives on the front lines
I have children. I suffer from a hernia, diaphragm, stomach bacteria, and infections, and I need continuous treatment...it is expensive.
In the name of humanity and not participating in genocide.I ask you to re-share my story and help my children if possible. Ten dollars is enough to save my children.
🙏😭🌹🍉💔💔
Please do what you can.
I want my children to live in safety and peace. Please don't neglect to do what you can to participate or donate
Link in bio
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@ayeshjourney
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