Potions & Shadows (Part II)

Potions & Shadows (Part II)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leadign to Feyre needing the once village apothecaries help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: This part is more background heavy to build up the plot a bit. Hybern in the books doesn't have a lot to build off of so I'm going to try to make him a greater villain tbh. At least make him a bit more feared. Thank you all for 100 follows btw!

Word Count: 3k

Part One, part two, part three. part four

Warmings: Mini trauma dump on Azriel, mentions of death.

Taglist: @cherry-cin, @sassybluebird, @aehllitas-blog

I shouldn’t enjoy doing this. what the hell is wrong with me

Is what Azriel had thought as he stared at the documents laid out before him in the middle of the night. Rhysand assigned him to look into you the moment you arrived in the night court. Of course, Rhysand trusted his mate that you were a good person. But one could not be too eager about letting someone foreign into the court. Also, it wasn’t like Azriel wasn’t curious about you. In fact, you were currently his muse. As you were easy to find information about, and perhaps in the future would inform you not to leave such an easy paper trail.

The sound of ruffling papers filled the room as he scanned the documents. 

By all means, you were an outstanding citizen. You were top of your class at a prestigious mage academy on a sponsorship a hundred years ago. You kept your mage certification current and renewed it before it expired. Initially, Azriel had thought that your adventurer guild meant you would be a mercenary, however, he was wrong. As he sifted through the quests you took on, he saw that they were for small rewards- helping farmers, rebuilding villages. You paid your taxes on time and your home in Feyre’s village is fully paid for. Mother above, there was no hidden information about you except for an eighty-year period where he couldn’t find a single piece of evidence that you existed anywhere, aside from word of mouth that a young elf lived alone in the woods.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed his face. You were too sweet—not even a small fine for failing to pay a toll. There was nothing bad about you, yet here he was, investigating your whole life, feeling like it was more for his own sake than for Rhysand's. A report sat in his hands that he had written about you for Rhysand, perhaps Rhysand would offer you a position in the inner circle. It wasn’t like a court mage would be bad, in fact, mages in Prythian were rare.  A knock pulled him out of his thoughts. He opened the door to reveal Elain standing in the doorway.

“Elain, you should be asleep, it’s the middle of the night,” Azriel spoke lowly as he shifted to lean against the doorway, one of his wings blocking her view of the room behind him. It was a subtle gesture that would go unnoticed by her, as she spoke softly. 

“I couldn’t sleep and I saw your light, so I figured I would come to check on you, you seemed distracted at dinner tonight,” Elain looked nervous as she looked up at Azriel whose eyes softened. Perhaps he was getting a soft spot for mortals. Yet, neither of you was truly mortal. You smelled like one, with a faint scent of blossoms, you seemed fragile like one but your eyes spoke of an immortality of knowledge. Had he been staring for too long into the distance because Elain’s soft voice pulled him away again, “Azriel? I asked if you wanted to walk with me to the gardens?” Azriel brought himself to look at the once mortal in front of him. There was no doubt she was beautiful, becoming fae just heightened those features and the way she looked at him, spoke something. Yet, when he looked at her, he had wished it were you asking him to escort you to the gardens or whatever hell you tasked him to do. 

What in the hells have you done to him, he had just met you yet he felt like something was pulling him to you. 

“I cannot tonight,” Azriel offered a small smile, one that caused Elain to stiffen as she looked away, a gesture that did not go unnoticed, “When I return from the camps tomorrow, I will join you though” he answered softly as she nodded and offered a goodnight before she went back to her quarters. Azriel gently closed the door, his shadows caressing his frame and mentions of sleep in their whispers. Azriel rubbed his eyes before finishing the report and heading to a short slumber. 

**** 

In the morning when Azriel walked out of his quarters strapped in his Illyrian leathers, Cassian was waiting down the hallway, leaning against the wall.

“You hate the camps, is this healer cute or something” Cassian flashed a grin, but his expression changed when he noticed Azriel flash him an annoyed look, “Given her race, I don’t want her to have trouble at the camps. If those potions break, we will be behind schedule for the war. It has nothing to do with how ‘cute’ she is” Azriel mentioned with a smile tugging his lips as he gave Cassian a gentle nudge with his wing as he made his way past to head out for the day. 

Cassian nodded a small smile still on his face, though Azirel sensed that his brother wasn’t waiting for him this morning. Cassian’s eyes flicked towards the eldest Archeron sister’s room, perhaps Cassian was waiting for a meeting with a viper. 

****

Meanwhile, at the healer’s cottage, you were carefully packing potions and elixirs into crates. With your staff in hand, you guided various bottles to float gently into three crates, the soft clinks of glass filling the room. As you worked, Madja entered.

“One of the members of the court is going to escort you. These Illyrians can be… unwelcoming to folk like yourself. Better safe than sorry kid,” she said, her tone awkward. She avoided meeting your gaze, but you understood her concern. You knew you were different and that the Fae in these parts might not be kind to you. Offering Madja a soft smile and a nod, you continued your preparations.

Once the crates were filled and securely clasped shut, you used your magic to float them into the main room of the cottage. Madja followed quietly as the front door opened, revealing Azriel and his shadows. His wings were tucked in tightly as he entered, his gaze immediately locking onto you and your staff. Your watercolor eyes met his golden ones that hid behind his dark curls that fell just above his eyes as you gently set the crates down and desummoned your staff.

Azriel felt his heart tug when he saw you. His shadows seemed intrigued, attempting to pull away from his grasp and head towards you. Azriel just held onto them tighter, not letting them dare touch you. 

So pretty, pretty little mage, the shadows whispered to him. They spoke of your mixed heritage, and your connection with nature, and reminded him of your humanity. So fragile their whispers ceased when he waved them off. As he looked at you, he did not have a clue what you were thinking as you gazed at the talons on top of his wings. 

“You probably might want to winnow, I fear flying will be a bit difficult. Even with your mage magic y/n,” Madja said, nodding your way. However Azriel was not paying attention as once he finally heard your name, it sung like a prayer in his mind. Finally a name for that pretty face. Azriel picked up the three crates with ease.

“Can you winnow?” He asked, Azriel was unfamiliar with mages as they were quite rare in Prythian, their magic was different than the fae, as mages were limited to spells. You shook your head in response. Azriel simply balanced the three crates in one hand, as he extended his other hand to you. 

“I can winnow us to a point, but it will be a mile or two of walking. Can you handle that?” Azriel stated softly. You seemed so fragile as you placed your small hand into his large one. He had been around full-blood humans in the past and knew how fragile they were. Elves weren’t much different besides their mana making them only somewhat stronger than humans. Azriel wondered where you may lay between the two. 

“I’ll be okay, I’m used to traveling,” offering him a reassuring smile. Within seconds, shadows swirled around you both as you winnowed to the middle of the woods a few miles outside the Illyrian camp. 

You stood a couple feet smaller than him, his shadows whispered, So petite, so fragile. With a wave of your hand, you summoned your staff, a crescent moon on top of with a glittering blue stone hanging from the crest. The magic lifted the crates from his arms as you both walked. A smile tugged Azriel’s lips as he clasped his hands behind his back slowing his pace to match your stride.

Time to fill in the gaps of his knowledge about you. He struck up a conversation, an interrogation of sorts, “How did you become a mage?” Azriel spoke softly, his voice a melody to your ears as you sheepishly glanced back at him. You feared that if you looked at him for too long, you would fall for this deadly presence, for whatever reason every instinct in your body feared him yet a part of you wanted to be closer. A new emotion seemed to fill you with every glance you sent his way. 

You released a sigh as your gaze shifted to the large pine trees that grew along the dirt path, “When I was young, I was saved by a human mage,” Human mages were something that had only occurred in the continent. The continent had a more progressive approach by human and fae standards, allowing humans to practice magic if they had the mana for it. Meanwhile, the human villages in Prythian still feared the presence of magic. 

“Saved?” Azriel echoed as he glanced at you. He knew most of the Elven villages were burned by Hybern centuries ago, by the thousands, Hybern had sought to eradicate most of the elves because of their high amounts of mana, a possible threat to fae kind. Whoever wasn’t killed, he had them as slaves wearing collars that stripped them of their mana. 

“Hybern’s generals still wreak havoc in the continent,” you murmured with your gaze still on the path, “My entire village was slaughtered one night when one of his generals arrived, many of the people in my village were half-breeds like myself, my mentor, the human mage found me that night after the war party had left,” 

Azriel looked at your face, expecting to see a sad expression. Instead, he found a look that was unreadable, devoid of emotion. Not even your eyes revealed your thoughts. 

“I never got your name,” You spoke as your gaze shifted to meet his lingering one, “or what you do for the court.” Azriel looked ahead to the path. They were nearing the camp soon enough. 

“It’s Azriel. My position, however, is a secret,” he said quietly, bringing a finger to his lips. “You can just assume that I do a lot of paperwork. A boring position, really.”

A lie, you thought as you looked into his eyes. From your time as an adventurer, you had learned to read people. One thing you learned was to look into a person’s eyes to discern who they truly were. Azriel’s eyes revealed much more; they showed that he had done many unsavory acts, perhaps with killing being the least brutal. His golden eyes, like a pot of honey, hid a sinister predator behind their warm facade.

One of his shadows moved to twirl around your wrist at his command. You jumped a little at the cool, silk-like touch of the shadow. “We are nearing the camp. I will take the crates to the camp leader. You will stay here by this tree,” Azriel commanded. He was not asking you to stay; he was telling you to. The shadow seemed to serve as either a way for him to track your location or to signal that you were his companion in case any other Illyrians came near. You made a mental note that Illyrians seemed to be territorial or overprotective.

You desummoned your staff as Azriel grabbed the crates and carried them the rest of the way to camp. Sitting down next to a tree, you waited for him. Around half an hour later, you felt a brush of wind against you as Azriel landed. His wings outstretched before tucking in behind him, instilling a sense of awe within you.

“You don’t have fae senses, do you?” he asked quietly. You shook your head as he helped you up from the ground. If you did, you would have sensed him the moment he was within a few feet of you. “Can you detect scents either?” he asked. Another shake of your head. You mentioned that you could detect mana, but only if it was from another mage or a magical creature. Azriel made a note of that, perhaps feeling thankful for your lack of senses. This way, you couldn’t sense how his heart pounded every time you met his gaze.

“Would you like a tour of Velaris?” he asked, “I promise I won’t drop you in flight,” he added with a hint of amusement. You looked at him and then at his wings as he stretched them slightly. A fear still instilled within you.

“I should help Madja with preparations…” you whispered. Azriel listened to your soft voice, noting the fear behind your words. He smiled—a genuine smile that he reserved only for his family. A smile that heightened his beautiful features, causing you to look away. “I promise I will go slow. It won’t be so bad, I assure you,” Azriel said, hearing your heart pounding. You were nervous. Were you scared to be near him?

“Another time,” you responded finally, grabbing his hand without a thought. “For now, can you winnow me back to the healer’s cottage?”

“Of course,” he said. With that, he led you back to the cottage, shadows swirling around you both as you disappeared from the forest and reappeared at the healer’s door. You waved him goodbye as he bowed slightly at the waist, causing a warmth to form on your cheeks when you saw his dark curls fall above his eyes that seemed to pierce you.

“Until next time, y/n,” Azriel spoke softly before he took off into the skies, his wings outstretched as if they were big enough to block the afternoon sun, powerful enough to rustle the trees. Such a powerful creature, you thought as you entered the cottage.

*****

Azriel took off to Rhysand’s office to drop off the report on the new healer. As he arrived, he found Rhysand at his desk, poring over piles of paperwork in preparation for the upcoming High Lords' meeting. Azriel observed the signs of stress on Rhysand—his disheveled hair, evidence of having run his fingers through it one too many times, and the dark circles under his violet eyes.

Rhysand glanced up as Azriel entered the room. “How was the camp?” he mused with a hint of amusement. “And the healer?”

Azriel smirked as he took a seat across from Rhysand, crossing one leg over the other and letting his wings drape behind him. “Camp was decent. Devlon scented her on the bottles and was asking if the humans were slaves again,” Azriel said, rolling his eyes. The healer's intoxicating scent still lingered on him, not that he minded. Rhysand muttered "Illyrian bastards" under his breath as he signed another document.

Azriel continued, “As for the healer, I have my report done. She’s a bit more closed off in person but leaves a paper trail. Overall, a good citizen. Only eighty years after her mage exam is left without any trail of her existence.” Azriel glanced at the document Rhysand was reading—something about budgets. “I have a feeling that was around the time her mentor passed away. Her mentor was human, after all.”

“From the continent then? Do you feel like she’s strong? From what Madja has praised, she’s a damn good healer,” Rhysand said, looking up.

Azriel nodded before continuing, “A first-class mage, one of the six that still remain. I can’t sense any magic or mana on her. I have a feeling she is suppressing it at all times—a skill even most fae can’t master.” Azriel smirked slightly. A damn good mage indeed.

“Your call then, Az,” Rhysand replied. “Is she a threat? Feyre wants her to come to dinner. Perhaps it would make her sisters feel more at ease with someone familiar around. Preferably Nesta,” Rhysand grimaced slightly with his last comment. 

Azriel looked at his scarred hand that once held your soft, dainty one. “Not a threat at all,” he murmured.

Part two is posted :)

Potions & Shadows (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leadign to Feyre needing the once village apothecaries help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: I posted a preview a week or two ago. I enjoyed writing this one, I've been super busy at work and with a family wedding so probably won't have a part two anytime soon. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for the support on my last few fics! :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Part two

Warmings: None? Let me know if there's any.

Feyre would often find herself lost in memories of their old neighbor, a mysterious figure from her childhood spent in the manor with her sisters. Little did she know, her encounter with the apothecary would soon unveil new mysteries. Years later, as Feyre bid farewell before their departure, she decided to revisit the familiar door, hoping to uncover the enigma of the past.

In the hustle of their impoverished days and the chaos of her transition to fae life, Feyre scarcely pondered the mystery. It wasn't until Nesta mentioned seeing the apothecary, unchanged from their childhood encounter, right before the human queen's arrival, that Feyre's curiosity stirred. She made a mental note to pay a quick visit to the apothecary's cottage down the road after their business with the queens concluded.

The meeting with the human queens did not end too well, though they did manage to secure the book. With Rhysand somewhat strict on their schedule, Feyre knew she couldn't risk being late. The crunch of the dirt path under her feet felt oddly familiar yet different in her new fae form. The smells of the pine trees now heightened, and the distant streams seemed closer than ever. Pulling her out of her trance, she arrived at the apothecary’s cottage.

The moss on the roof indicated the cottage had been there for centuries, perhaps even when the village was being built. Feyre walked up and knocked on the door, her heart pounding with anticipation. The shuffling of footsteps inside signaled someone approaching. When the door creaked open, Feyre was met with a familiar face.

A short woman stood before her, her scent unmistakably human, yet intertwined with a hint of something elusive. Her hazel green eyes, flecked with gold and blue hues, seemed to hold secrets as deep as the mountains' morning dew. The apothecary wiped her hands on her apron, stained with various herbs and powders, and greeted Feyre with a small sigh and a bright smile.

"It's you... but different?" she remarked, tilting her head curiously. Feyre released a breathy laugh. "Yeah, you could say I am a bit different... you're back," she whispered.

The apothecary moved aside, inviting Feyre into the familiar interior of the cottage. Bookshelves lined the walls, while towers of books stood around tables filled with bottles and concoctions. The atmosphere was comforting yet tinged with a sense of mystery. As the apothecary made tea, Feyre couldn't help but notice the intricate organization amidst the apparent chaos.

"No longer human, now a fae?" the apothecary mused as she prepared the tea. "Haven't seen that before." She smiled to herself, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "I always thought you were human, I mean you don't seem fae," Feyre whispered.

"That's because I'm not fae, though I am considered a fae creature," the apothecary explained with a soft smile. "Long story short, as I have a feeling your companions only gave you a few moments to visit. I am half human, half-elven... one of the last of my kind."

Feyre looked puzzled before asking, "How come you don't age? I mean the human counterpart should... make you age, right?" The apothecary poured the tea, the pink hue swirling in the cup, before joining Feyre at the table. "You're right, I should age, but there's this thing called the 'settling.' It's based on mana. The more mana you have, the more likely to reach immortality."

The apothecary glanced up at Feyre with a soft smile. "I stopped aging around... don't know, maybe 19 or 20 years old?" Feyre looked at her in astonishment, trying to reconcile the fragile appearance with the revelation of her age. "How old are you now?" she asked softly.

You smiled, reminiscing about your past travels as you glanced at your spellbooks and then back at Feyre while taking a sip of your tea. "I am roughly 300 years old this year, give or take a few," you admitted with a hint of nostalgia. "You tend to lose count on the road."

Brushing your long hair aside, you pulled up your sleeve, revealing the insignia of an adventurer guild—a small blossom marking. "This is from my guild," you explained. "I'm a mage, so I embark on journeys from time to time. It's how I honed my skills in concocting medicines and remedies."

Feyre looked taken aback, unable to sense any magic radiating from you despite your mage status and half-elven heritage. She was filled with questions, but time was fleeting, and there was much to be done.

As Feyre finished her tea, she felt a sense of urgency creeping in. "Listen... there's something that might be coming, would you watch my sisters?" The apothecary met her gaze with a reassuring smile. "I leave tonight for another quest, but the wards should be stable around their house. I'll reinforce them before I leave."

With a nod of gratitude, Feyre rose from her seat, her mind buzzing with newfound revelations. Little did she know, her visit to the apothecary would mark the beginning of a journey fraught with unforeseen challenges.

******

Certainly, unforeseen challenges indeed. In fact, the wards failed to hold as Hybern seized Feyre’s sisters while you were away on your travels seeking new spell books, a hobby of yours. Across the continent, whispers of war spread like wildfire. Perhaps this was what Feyre had alluded to—a war brewing on the horizon? After completing your quest, you returned home to find a letter from Feyre—a proposition of sorts.

“War is coming, we need healers like you to join us. Let me know your response when you see this.” 

Magic paper? Intriguing, something you will inquire about later on. You write your response. Perhaps, a new adventure wouldn’t be bad. You’ve never visited Prythian before. Given that elves used to be seen as slaves there, that elves were seen to be just one step above humans, being a half-breed who know’s where that would place you. Feyre was kind though, you knew that from the moment you met her. A war would be brutal, if the fae were asking for help, that meant it would be serious enough to involve others. 

“Sure, I’ll give my commitment for a few years,” you wrote. The paper vanished almost instantly, leaving behind a faint scent of smoke—a curious phenomenon indeed. Moments later, a message appeared, promising someone would visit you at the cottage within hours. With a shrug, you began to pack your belongings, including spell books, herbs, clothes, and trinkets. You were prepared.

That's when you met Mor, a lively fae whose energy belied her formidable power. She winnowed you to the healer’s cottage, where Madja, the head healer, resided. Mor apologized and hurriedly departed, leaving you to converse with Madja. The healer welcomed you warmly, showing you to a modest room furnished with essentials. The bed with white bedding and an old green quilt laid on top. Madja pointed out that the nights here might be too cold for creatures like yourself. 

"Haven't seen a human in years," she remarked as she led you to the apothecary storage room. "But I sense something else about you," a twinkle in Madja’s eye hinted at her awareness of your half-elven heritage. You responded with a smile, "Most don’t catch on too quickly," you murmured.

Madja returned your smile, her expression warm yet knowing. "You're probably the last of your kind," she remarked casually, her tone tinged with humor. "Your kind was always more focused on mana and magic than finding love. Perhaps your human side will help you with that," she teased, reaching for a mortar and pestle.

"Now, kid," Madja continued, her demeanor shifting to business-like. "I want to see what you're capable of. Make a few hundred healing potions—some for minor cuts and bruises, and others for those foolish soldiers who find themselves impaled one too many times."

You immersed yourself in your work, with Madja checking in every few minutes to monitor your progress. Impressed by your efficiency, she peppered you with compliments, acknowledging your skill. Together, you labored until late afternoon, the sun casting long shadows across the cottage.

Feyre stopped by to offer a brief greeting before departing to attend to war preparations and assist her newly transformed sisters. Their transformation weighed heavily on your conscience—if only your wards had been stronger, perhaps you could have prevented their fate. Pushing aside the guilt, you ground a few more herbs, determined to focus on the task at hand. Or perhaps you were trying to push that guilt away by keeping yourself distracted. 

The soothing scent of herbs filled the room, mingling with Madja’s quiet humming—a melody unfamiliar to you yet strangely comforting. You found solace in the routine of potion-making, a respite from the chaos of the outside world.

As you worked, memories of your travels surfaced—the thrill of discovering new spells, the camaraderie of fellow adventurers, and the satisfaction of aiding those in need. Though your main quest was to collect spells, you found fulfillment in helping others, a testament to your kind-hearted nature.

Completing the last batch of potions, Madja introduced you to the other healers, who welcomed you with open arms. Over dinner, you exchanged stories of your respective lives—Madja sharing tales of her long existence, while you recounted your travels across distant lands. The other healers listened in awe, their curiosity piqued by your adventures beyond Velaris. Constantly asking questions of your adventures, asking about the dragons you’ve came across. About the handsome warriors that you went through dungeons with. A smile tugged your lips as you bid them goodnight and headed to your room. 

As you lay on your bed, enveloped by the chill of the night air, you found comfort in the warmth of the quilt that Madja had provided. Retrieving a book about defensive magic from your bedside table, you delved into its pages, seeking solace in the familiar words until sleep claimed you. 

****

As the end of the first week approached, you found yourself manning the desk, processing orders for sleeping tonics, stomach remedies, and various other mundane requests. It was the less exciting aspect of your work, but you understood the necessity of attending to such matters. After all, not every day could be spent brewing exotic potions and elixirs. Madja had left to replenish the inventory and wouldn't return until nightfall. Before her departure, she mentioned that someone from the court would be coming to collect a 'private' order and instructed you not to charge them.

As you cleaned the countertop, the door creaked open, and a chilling breeze swept into the room, carrying with it the scent of mist and cedar, tinged with a hint of blood. You looked up and found yourself locking eyes with a figure standing in the doorway. My stars, he was strikingly handsome in a deadly sort of way—a sight that momentarily stole your breath away. You recognized him as an Illyrian, though you had never seen one before. There was something about his wings that instilled a sense of fear in you, even though they remained folded tightly against his back, shrouding his features in shadows.

Azriel dipped his head in acknowledgment, his golden gaze piercing as he spoke in a low, almost hypnotic tone. "I am here to pick up a prescription," he stated, his voice like a captivating melody that seemed to draw you in.

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure as you retrieved the bag containing the requested item. It was a rare occurrence for you to feel flustered, especially in the presence of another. As you handed him the bag, your hands brushed briefly, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. The label on the bag revealed its contents—a contraceptive tonic. Oh... he was an active male too.

Azriel murmured his thanks before casting a lingering gaze over you, his expression unreadable behind his hand. As he turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling of self-consciousness. Did you smell bad? Was your human heritage too obvious to the fae? Such thoughts raced through your mind as the door closed behind him, leaving you to ponder the encounter long after he had gone.

****

Azriel departed for the House of Wind, where a family dinner awaited. Elaine had begun emerging from her room, while Nesta remained ensconced in her moody disposition. Lucien had ventured to the continent, leaving an absence felt at the table. Feyre was already seated next to Rhys when Azriel arrived, discreetly passing the tonic to Cassian, who muttered a quick thanks before Azriel settled in beside him.

"I didn’t realize Madja had taken on a new apprentice," Azriel murmured, his gaze shifting to Mor as she joined Cassian. Feyre glanced at Azriel, her curiosity piqued. "You met her today? She’s a friend of mine from the village. I knew her growing up," she explained. Azriel took a sip of the wine passed to him by Cassian, his mind wandering to the petite healer who had left such an impression on him.

Elaine's transformation from human to fae had only heightened Azriel's attraction to her, raising questions about his preferences. Was he developing a preference for humans? Could he handle the brevity of their lifespans? Feyre's voice broke through his reverie, drawing his attention back to the conversation. "She’s half-elf too, are they rare?" she inquired.

Rhysand nodded, his expression softening as he delved into the history of elves and their dwindling numbers. "They used to be slaves for the Fae, around the same time as the humans," he began. "Perhaps that's why she has never been to Prythian until now."

He paused, his tone softening even further. "Also, the elves were known to lack emotions, which led to them not reproducing that often, ultimately to their demise. There’s a few around, but not many anymore."

As food was placed on the table, Azriel found himself consumed by thoughts of the healer. Her scent lingered in his mind, reminiscent of cherry blossoms on a warm day. Though he had only met her briefly, he felt an inexplicable pull toward her that tugged at his heartstrings. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.

An idea struck him. "Don’t we need to deliver the potions to the camps? I could help with that tomorrow, I finished the reports," Azriel suggested, turning to Rhysand. A smirk danced on the high lord’s lips—a silent understanding passed between them. "If you want," Rhysand replied casually, gesturing with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps show her around Velaris while you’re at it."

Azriel nodded, anticipation stirring within him. Tomorrow promised to be an intriguing day, his shadows seemed almost restless to meet the little healer again. A new sort of feeling fueled both him and his shadows.

ACOTAR Head Cannons: Batboys Getting a Tattoo

We know the batboys have their Illyrian tattoos, here's how I think they would react during and how they treat you when you get your first one!

A/n: This came to my mind while I was getting my 7hr tattoo done today :( These boys living in my mind rent-free. Didn't edit as I wrote this on my notes app during my session :)

Rhysand:

Would definitely be the type to talk to their artist the whole time.

I don't think he would overshare, but would hold a friendly conversation that could come across as flirting

His smile and laugh? Artist is now blushing.

Rhys could probably do an 8hr session easily with no breaks

Probably a high pain tolerance just talkative

Now...If you were getting your first tattoo

Rhysand would probably tap into your mind and make sure it doesn't hurt (with your permission of course)

Would hold your hand

Would say things to make you not focused on the pain (if you were feeling any) "Darling does that hurt? You're doing such a good job though. You're going to look so stunning when this is done, I'm so proud of you. Such a good girl" he'd whisper in your mind, his voice dripping with sultry warmth.

Cassian:

Cassian has fought literal wars and probably has been impaled more times than anyone could count.

HE FEELS NO PAIN <- For a fact, I think he would be talkative like Rhys, but he would be a snacker for sure.

Would bring his little snacks, I'm thinking gummy worms. Especially if he was having a long session.

Wouldn't need breaks.

Talkative-wise, I think he would ramble about little things, maybe share stories of his battles with various creatures.

Now for your first tattoo

Cassian would hold your hand, thankfully, you could grip his hand as hard as possible and this man wouldn't even flinch.

Would definitely playfully tease you anytime you winced.

I don't think he would be flirty in front of the artist out of respect but he would say words of encouragement in a teasing way.

"You're only halfway there mamas! You got this!" or some stupid dad jokes like "You're not just getting inked, you're becoming a masterpiece that I'll be worshipping later ;)" (Idk why but I think Cassian would have a collection of dad jokes)

Would bring you, your favorite drink and snacks of course.

Azriel:

Azriel would not feel any pain, if he did, he wouldn't show it.

I feel like he would for sure be a sleeper or would just stay quiet with his eyes closed.

Could do long sessions as well at the others, probably a bit longer than both Cassian and Rhysand. If there needed to be a 10-12 hour day he could do it.

For your first tattoo

I am a firm believer that Azriel would be an amazing tattoo artist, given his experience. His lines would be so precise.

Therefore I think he would honestly be your artist.

He would be the one to design/do your piece and would be super gentle when doing the ink. Constant check-ins with you to make sure that you're doing okay.

If you were feeling talkative, he would talk. Though I think he would be so gentle that you would fall asleep.

I don't think he would use his shadows (hygiene you know) but maybe for aftercare if your tattoo is wrapped he will use them to cool down any swelling.

Would say things like: "You're such a good girl for me." or "This area is going to be a bit sensitive, but you'll be fine, won't you, pretty?"

Upcoming Modern!Azriel Fic

Trigger warnings: mentions of abuse and an affair.

In the facade of Windhaven, the mayor portrayed perfection—a loving family, accomplished sons, and a jovial demeanor in public. But behind closed doors, he concealed a darker truth, subjecting Azriel, his illegitimate son, to relentless abuse.

Conceived from an affair with a maid, Azriel's existence became a shameful secret. The mayor adopted him to maintain appearances, while the maid disappeared under the guise of a paid silence, leaving Azriel to navigate a hostile household.

Lonely and longing for his mother's warmth, Azriel endured the torment of his stepbrothers, who saw him as nothing more than a villain in their games. Isolated and yearning for companionship, he found solace only in the confines of his room.

As years passed, Azriel's torment escalated, culminating in a horrifying incident orchestrated by his brothers. Left scarred both physically and emotionally, he faced his father's contempt and the cruel decree of boarding school—a final banishment from the only home he'd ever known.

But amidst the darkness, a glimmer of hope emerged as Azriel embarked on a journey to a new life in Velaris, leaving behind the shadows of Windhaven to pursue his dreams and find belonging with his newfound family.

A/n: This will be a Azriel x Reader taking place in the modern world. The first part will be his childhood with his father and brothers in Windhaven, will be pretty angsty!

Other Worlds

Azriel x reader

Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay

A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.

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“Do you think she’s dead?”

“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.

“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone. 

“But not before all the trees Nesta”

“Details, details”

“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.

“Well she’s not dead”

“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look. 

“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”

“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.

The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts. 

“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”

“You forgot” Feyre returned

“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them. 

“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door. 

“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply. 

“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them. 

“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you. 

“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre. 

“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another. 

“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.

“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment. 

“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.

“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master. 

“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness. 

“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day. 

“Send for Madja-”

“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”

“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options. 

“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back” 

“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”

“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.

“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way. 

Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count. 

He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down. 

“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face. 

“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself. 

“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”

“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.

“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?” 

“This is Velaris”

“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly. 

“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced. 

“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds. 

“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes. 

“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir. 

“YN? That’s an odd name”

“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead. 

“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling. 

“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”

“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”

“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face. 

“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp. 

“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”

“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.

“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.

“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.

“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid. 

“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.

“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants

“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”

“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.

“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”

“Human? And what are you a fish?” 

“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees. 

“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action. 

“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”

“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?” 

“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.

“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.

“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding. 

“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder. 

“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed. 

“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.

“Okay so not a dream…”

“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality. 

“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”

“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you. 

“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile. 

“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.

“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully. 

“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test” 

“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen. 

For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were. 

“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.

“Oh slay”

“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words. 

“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink. 

“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”

“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”

“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged. 

“How could anyone not miss you YN?”

“You have to say that, you’re my captor”

“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.

He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.

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“We are sending her back!”

“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.

“She can’t stay here Az!”

“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians. 

“This is Rhysand”

“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action. 

“Don’t flatter him YN”

“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes. 

“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood

“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry. 

“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”

“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home” you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.

“I’m confident we know how to get you there”

“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me” 

“What?” Rhysand bit out.

“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk. 

“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”

“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.

“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.

“Who said anything about worms?”

“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you. 

“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.

“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him. 

“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”

“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.

“I’m not familiar with that region”

“Is that where the drag culture is?”

“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta. 

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Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide. 

“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.

“You live such insane lives here”

“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow. 

“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much. 

“Az, I’d love to stay but-”

“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now. 

“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go. 

“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”

“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.

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Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?

Ah yes. Me. My mate. And his twelve dogs….. 🦇🍁🐾