Part Two Is Posted :)
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.
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More Posts from Delulustateofmind
Potions and Shadows Preview
Little something I was thinking about doing. (Soon to be: Azriel x Reader)
Takes place during ACOMAF after a little backstory
Feyre would sometimes reminisce about their old neighbor, a mysterious figure from her childhood spent in the manor with her sisters, before they downsized to a cramped cottage. The neighbor seemed immune to the passage of time, earning her whispers of 'witch' from the town's women and longing glances from the men. Yet, she was the revered apothecary, renowned throughout the region. People would journey far just to seek her remedies. Whenever Feyre or her sisters suffered scraped knees from their adventures, they'd find solace at her doorstep, tears in their eyes. The apothecary, known as Y/n, would greet them with a smile.
'Playing around the grove again?' she'd tease, as she concocted a soothing salve for their wounds, regaling them with tales of creatures beyond the wall. When asked her age, she'd simply reply with 'a few centuries,' prompting giggles from the girls who couldn't fathom her longevity. Despite the rumors, she seemed entirely human, defying the fantastical tales.
Years later, when Feyre bid farewell before their departure, she knocked on the familiar door only to find it ajar, the house eerily empty as if the enigmatic woman had never resided there.
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, that after this they would make a quick trip to the apothecary's cottage down the road.
Married to the Lord of Bloodshed (One-shot)
A/N: OMG! Thank you all for so much love on the Azriel one. I am literally SHOCKED.
**fair warning: it is unedited, like a rough draft like the last one as I am working on both the series as well. Just had a lot of fun with it!**
Summary: collections of being married to Cassian! Married for fifty years :)
Word count: 1.6k
triggers: Mentions of intimacy, lots of pet names-like LOTS, that's about it!
***
You, an unlikely match, found yourself married to the formidable Illyrian warrior, Cassian, general of the Night Court. Fifty years of a beautiful marriage under your belt. Meeting at a party that somehow left you both discovering you were mates. Cassian was a completely different male when he was around you compared to how he was at the Illyrian camps.
Among your cherished moments together…
After a long day working as a healer for the court, your muscles tense. Cassian would very much enjoy rubbing out your sore muscles. You knew he did this to lead to other things.
As you would lay on the bed, flat on your back. Cassian lifts one of your legs to rest on his shoulder as he rubs your calf. With a mischievous smirk, he murmured, “Baby let me take care of you.” The feeling of his rough calloused hands rubbing out your sore muscles from standing all day. You couldn’t help but laugh, attempting to retract your leg from the ticklish sensation.
“Baby, that tickles,” Cassian smirks in response as he applies more pressure. “You think this tickles, I haven’t even started yet” he murmurs as he presses a thumb to your tight calf muscle as he rubs a knot out and notices your reaction as you cover your face.
“How are your muscles looking? Still sore? Maybe you should take off a few days, you’ve been working really hard. I could stay with you and keep you company.” his gaze meets yours as his hand seems to have traveled to your thigh.
“Well I’ve been going to this new workout studio before work in the mornings, it’s this new workout called pilates” a soft laugh escaping your lips as he reaches a more tense area in your thigh. His smirk fades a little as he looks at you.
“You’ve been going to the gym before work? Baby, you work like hours on end. Are you trying to run that body of yours to the ground? It’s beautiful and deserves to be cared for” Cassian states as he leans closer to you pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I never complained about you working so much, but sometimes you worry me. Try to take it easy okay? Maybe we can have a relaxing weekend together, just us, maybe go to the river?” He smiles down at you as he pulls you closer to himself. You knew where this was leading, as soon as his hands moved across your thigh and onto your hips to pull you flush against him as he kissed your lips. “How about I make you feel good tonight, hm? I’ll be gentle” He smirks with a kiss.
***
However, one thing that really was a bummer was being married to a super health-conscious Illyrian. Going to the market was a challenge. Sure you enjoyed that your mate looked out for you. Picking the best fruits and vegetables to cook healthy delicious meals with.
But sometimes a girl just wants two different types of cake and maybe some cookies. Your monthly was probably starting soon but the sugar cravings were at an all-time high. Yes, Cassian would obviously let you pick up one. Not two, no no, just one. He said too many sweets would burn you out…I mean he was right, but it still sucked to admit it.
“Mamas, just pick one” Cassian chuckled as he carried the bags of food. Looking at you with a smile as you stood there for the past twenty minutes. Carefully. Picking out the one sweet treat you were allowed for the week.
You pleaded to him as if you were begging for your life. “My love, it’s so hard, can’t we get the fancy cake and the cheesecake?” You shot him a look that even a puppy would fall for, almost begging for your mate to indulge in your cravings. Pointing at the beautifully decorated chocolate cake that sat right next to its best friend, the cheesecake with the pretty little strawberries sitting on top that just went into season. “I mean look they’re best friends, baby? It’s like you and Azriel, we can’t just break them up”
Cassian smirked looking at you, trying to put up a ‘no’ look for you but the male was weak. You knew he couldn’t say no to your cute pleading face. So the moment you looked up at him, he rolled his eyes.
“Fine. But only this, one time.” He teased with mock sternness, his voice low and playful “Only, because you brought up a compelling argument”
“I have never loved you more than I have in this very moment, Pookie” You gave him a big smile as you motioned the baker over to box up both the chocolate cake and the cheesecake.
Cassian was just going to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t say no to his wife’s charms. He looked at you and chuckled, not saying anything as you walked out of the store. Grabbing the bag from you and following you. Though he did make sure to give your ass a tiny pinch on the way out.
“Pookie? I swear you’re going to be the death of me some days, I have a reputation to uphold, you know!” he teased as he walked with you. You both had to pick up a few more items before heading home for the day…
***
Mornings were never your thing you despised mornings. You always opted for the afternoon or night shift when you had to work. Cassian on the other hand was a ray of sunshine in the mornings. Though, he never cared that you didn’t work out with him. Your mate just cared that you would at least move around a bit, whether that was doing yoga with Feyre or taking dance lessons over at the Rainbow. He trained you in self-defense when you first started dating. His wife needed to be able to protect herself at least.
You unfortunately had the morning shift today. A grumpy walk on the way home, you could winnow home. But, you needed the walk to cool yourself down. A walk down the streets of Velaris led you to a new studio that had just opened with the word ‘Zumba’ written on the glass. You peeked in to find music flowing out and a bunch of what seemed like moms dancing.
Sounds like a good time!
There were two open spots for tonight. You signed both your and Cassian’s names onto the sign-up sheet. Though you hadn’t asked him yet, you were sure you could be convincing enough.
Entering his office, you found Cassian engrossed in paperwork for the Illyrian camps. “Baby, my love, my sweet honey bear, snookums” you whispered in his ear as you leaned over his shoulder. Carefully not pressing weight down on his wings.
A soft hum escaped his lips as he reached for your hand. Pressing a small kiss on your palm as he kept reading a document for supplies. “What is it my love” he murmured clearly not paying attention to you.
“There’s this class going on tonight and I would really love you if you would join me,” you kissed his ear and then his neck. “Pretty please”
“Mm, what sort of class?” He hummed. Although Cassian would agree to anything for you, he couldn’t help but find your sweetness after work unusual, yet endearing. Usually, you were a snapping turtle, especially once you discover soon that he ate the last piece of cake while you were at work.
“It’s like a workout class with live music, seems fun right? Please baby…pretty please my big strong Illyrian male that I love so much” you whined as you kissed his neck with peppered kisses. Use your other hand to rub his chest.
“Yeah, we can go, let me get ready then” just the confirmation you needed. You pulled away from him and with a happy smile, just about to leave him to his paperwork. Before you knew it, Cassian had swept you off your feet, a playful gesture that spoke of what was to come when he carried you over his shoulder to your shared bedroom.
****
Stepping into the ‘Zumba’ studio, Cassian realized that facing war and bloodshed paled in comparison to the challenge of dancing with a group of determined mothers on a Tuesday night. These females seemed as if they were ready for war. Strapped with their sweatbands and their workout clothes. Cassian was definitely out of place, a few of the fae women gave him curious glances as he stood in the back. The mirrors clearly show him towering over everyone, his massive wings were tucked close to his body, straining as if they sought freedom from the small studio. His small wife was beside him, grinning ear to ear as she looked up at him full of excitement.
How could he refuse when she looked that happy?
As the class concluded, Cassian found himself drenched in sweat, a testament to the intensity of the workout. Sure, he was in perfect shape, he’s had about 500 years of training. Of course, he was a fit male.
But this tortuous dance class had him wheezing and gasping for air while these moms did the cardio squats like it was nothing. A few of the moms even gave him some fist bumps, humbling the poor lord of bloodshed.
Grabbing your hand as you both left the studio, a smile formed and tugged on his lips as he reluctantly said, “Mamas, I need one of those pinky drinks you love so much.” Wiping the sweat from his brow, he looked at you expecting to lead the way to your favorite cafe.
A City of Dreams [Part Two]
Series Summary: ModernAU of ACOTAR, Azriel breaks away from the small town of Windhaven to escape his toxic family and chase his dreams with his newfound family. Leaving behind his small-town life for new ventures in Velaris.
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three-Coming soon!]
Word Count: 2.1k
Trigger warnings: Pet names (lil fawn), drinking, clubbing, let me knew if I'm missing any!
A sigh of relief escaped you as you finally beat the morning coffee rush, rolling your shoulders back as you leaned against the counter. Your managers handled the coffee order today, so it should be an easy day. The summertime menu was soon ready with your next shipment of strawberries. That meant strawberry pastries and strawberry lattes, your favorite time of the year.
The bell connected to the door chimed as it swung open to reveal Feyre approaching you with heavy steps. She released a deep sigh as she ran her hands through her shimmering brown hair—how does someone have that much volume? You will never understand.
"I just got the rejection email," Feyre sighed heavily as she took a spot next to the coffee bar, laying her head on the table. Deciding to whip her up a matcha latte with vanilla cold foam, you could always tell what type of drinks suited people. Feyre was a not-too-sweet individual, and Matcha complimented her. Something about Feyre was calming enough but had bitter undertones like Matcha; it can be sweet or bitter. A soft hum escaped your lips as you made her drink. "Did it say why you got rejected?" you murmured as you whisked the green powder with warm water.
"I don’t meet the five fluent language criteria. I mean, who knows five languages, y/n?" Feyre exclaimed through a frustrated sigh as she pressed her forehead on the counter. "What kind of personal assistant does that guy need?"
Handing Feyre the drink, you couldn’t help but notice the exhaustion etched in your friend’s features. Watching Feyre take a sip, her silver-blue eyes reflecting a mixture of frustration and resignation.
"Let’s go out tonight, close early, I want to get trashed," Feyre sighed. "I’m now a single, jobless, freelance artist. Who can’t even manage to meet the requirements for a stupid personal assistant position."
You reassured her, “The guy was probably a jerk anyways," as you cleaned up the counters. "You probably would have hated it. Anyways, yeah, I could always close early tonight. Let’s go to Rita’s?" Looking over your shoulder, you noticed Feyre on her phone staring at a photo of her and Tamlin. "You could always go back to him, you know? He seemed kind of obsessed over you."
Feyre deleted the photo after finishing her latte but didn’t say a word. You couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. You took the glass from her, and she stayed for a while making small talk with you before mentioning that she would see you at home later tonight. Leaving with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
*******
Azriel finished his shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. A few more hours of code, and he should be done for the day. His phone chimed, a text from Rhysand in their group chat:
"Rita’s tonight 🍻🍾 to celebrate the new update."
An annoyed sigh escaped Azriel’s lips as he put the phone back down and got dressed. After getting ready, he took a seat at his computer and began working on code for what felt like hours. The eye bags under his eyes seemed to only get heavier.
*******
The club pulsed with energy, the bass thumping in time with the pounding of your heart. Neon lights danced across the walls, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the writhing bodies on the dance floor. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and perfume, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional shout. Yep, a typical Friday night at Rita’s.
Feyre was wearing one of the skimpiest dresses you’ve ever seen her wear, and she was rocking it, of course. You opted for a black tight dress that hugged your body. Feyre held your hand, guiding you to a spot at the bar, where she ordered you both drinks. Both of which were fruity cocktails that you both downed the second they touched your hands. Setting them on the bar, you both left to go dancing.
"Tonight! We put past all of our worries; tomorrow will be a new, better day," Feyre laughed as she danced before you.
You both danced, feeling the rhythm of the bumping club music. The lights strobing, intoxicating both of you. Clubbing in Velaris was a whole other level compared to both of your small-town lives. People here were here to be seen; everything was about who or what you knew in Velaris. While dancing, neither of you realized the violet eyes piercing Feyre as she swayed her hips. It wasn’t until a waitress tapped on Feyre’s shoulder and pointed to a table on the second floor, claiming a man up there was requesting you both to meet him.
You weren’t sure if it was the environment, the drinks, or the way Feyre was blushing when she caught the gaze of the man. He was breathtakingly handsome, the typical rich guy with tailored clothes that seemed to hug his silhouette. As he manspread at the table drinking a glass of whiskey, his friends chatted amongst themselves. When Feyre began walking over to the table, he set down his glass in one swift motion and came up to her, grabbing her hand and planting a soft kiss on top of it.
"You are absolutely divine," He said in a sultry voice as his violet eyes met her silvery blue ones. A blush crept onto Feyre’s face as she met his eyes.
"Thank you," she muttered sheepishly as he guided her to sit down next to him. The man’s name was Rhysand; by the looks of it, the man was loaded. For someone so young, he seemed accomplished and fascinated by Feyre. Before you knew it, he bought a bottle for the table.
You sat next to her, of course, being cautious of your friend. You hear stories all the time of attractive men leading women to their doom. You sip on your drink, keeping a watchful gaze at Rhysand’s hands, who seemed to be kept on his lap.
At least he was respectful.
You felt a piercing gaze at you from across the table, meeting a pair of hazel eyes that had dark undereye bags underneath them. You recognized the look. It was the man from earlier. Instead, now you could see his whole face.
Rhysand was a different type of handsome, like what you would expect a CEO to look like or some actor that would star as the male lead. The man before you looked like a tired prince or even an idol. Soft black curls covered his face just below the brow, and he had these full dark lips…that you couldn’t stop staring at. Why couldn’t you stop staring at them? Was it the drinking? A smile tugged his lips as he moved closer to you.
A low voice, almost a whisper in your ear, "You live down the hall? What a small world we are meeting here." His breath was hot, sending shivers down your body. Instead of responding, you took a sip of the champagne that Rhysand bought for the table—champagne you would normally never be able to afford. You finally gathered the courage to meet his gaze, his hazel eyes held warmth.
"Yeah…about two doors down from you, I’m assuming," you mutter sheepishly. He was so intimidating, yet you felt comfortable enough that if he asked you a question, you would be able to answer it without hesitation. You couldn’t help but notice his hands. Burn markings scattered all over them.
"Azriel, that’s my name. What’s yours?" He followed your gaze before setting his drink on the table and folding his hands over his lap. A stutter spurred from your lips, "Y/n, a pleasure to meet you Azriel," you look at him, yet your eyes are once again drawn to his lips.
An amused smile tugged his lips as he looked over at you up and down. "Y/n, pretty name for a little fawn like you. You don’t seem like the clubbing type," Azriel’s gaze met your eyes again as he tilted his head. "What brought you here tonight?"
"Celebrating losses, to say the least." You gave a slight nod to Feyre, who seemed to be laughing at Rhysand’s joke as she leaned against him. You looked around the room and back at him. "How about you? You looked exhausted."
Azriel leaned a bit closer; you both were touching at this point. "Celebrating losses? Well, I suppose we are opposites because we're celebrating wins." A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned to grab his drink from the table and took a sip. Not breaking eye contact with you. "What’d you lose, little fawn?"
"Personally, I didn’t lose anything, just supporting my friend- who is getting very comfortable with your friend over there," You glance at him as he notices them with a smile on his face. "She needed a little pick me up, rough day for her."
"Hopefully tonight will be better for her then," He smiled. "Also, don’t worry about Rhysand; taking home drunk girls was in his early twenties. He was captivated by her dancing. Wait til he finds out, she lives down the hall from him." a teasing tone in his voice. "Clubs are nice and all, but do you want to get out of here? Maybe grab some food?"
Was he asking you out, was he expecting more, is it okay to have a playful fling with your extremely attractive neighbor?
As Azriel’s gaze bore into yours, your mind raced with questions and doubts. Was he asking you out? Did you want him to? The alcohol buzzed in your veins, clouding your thoughts and judgments. Loosening your inhibitions. “Yes” escaped your lips without a second guess, the words hanging in the air like an unspoken promise.
The two of you left; Rhysand had given you his number and said that he would take Feyre home and he would text you when he did. Nice guy, especially for paying for your drinks the whole night.
Azriel took your hand, his large hands grabbing your soft ones. The callouses from working out rubbing against your soft palm. A part of you wondered what they would feel like around your… no, no naughty thoughts, you barely just met the guy. He had guided you outside the club.
"Do you like ramen?" He asked as he looked down at you; he was nearly a foot taller than you. You gave a small nod, and he guided you to a place he knew down the street from your apartment. You were starting to limp, your heels scraping the back of your ankles causing a blister. Azriel looked down and noticed before stopping at a bench.
"Sit here, I’ll be right back," He said with a smile before doing a slight jog to the nearby convenience store. The cold breeze made you slightly shiver. A curious glance at the back of Azriel as he entered the store a block away. Perhaps, he was getting beer?
Moments later, Azriel came back with a bag. He pulled out a package of bandaids and bent down on one knee. Looking up at you he murmured in a soft voice, "Can I touch you?" a blush met your cheeks as you nodded. His warm hands took off your high heels and placed a bandaid on the blisters. His touch was gentle. "There," he said softly "I can carry you if you want?" He looked up at you, his eyes that once seemed intimidating, almost seemed like a puppy full of concern.
"It’s fine," you responded bashfully, "You didn’t have to do that, you know," looking away from his gaze.
"I wanted to, I can imagine that high heels alone don’t feel good, much less with the addition of blisters. How about we postpone ramen and instead get you home," He smiled before reaching for your phone. “I’ll add my number, so make sure you save the date.”
Azriel even took a selfie for the contact photo, a gift honestly to see this man’s angelic face.
After placing his contact information in your phone, he put your high heels back on and stood up, reaching for your hand. “Let’s get going, shall we?” You nodded and took his hand, feeling the scars. Perhaps one day, you’ll learn about them.
Tag list: @lilah-asteria, @brieflyclassymortal
Potions & Shadows (Part IV SMUT)
Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leading to Feyre needing the once-village apothecaries' help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.
A/n: THERE'S SMUT! Just a warning before you read, I am still learning how to write smut. Seriously if someone could create a writers workshop for that, that would be amazing. Feel free to skip if you are not comfortable with smut. This takes place after the first high lord meeting in ACOWAR. Hope you all enjoy, because I was a blushing mess writing this thing.
part one, part two, part three
Word Count: 2.5k
Taglist: @cherry-cin, @sassybluebird, @aehllitas-blog
** Minors DO NOT INTERACT under the cut pls! **
Warnings: Fingering, pet names (Princess, sweetness), mild swearing, lots of repeated words. Oral. Praise. Squirting. Let me know if I'm missing any!!
Azriel had flown off into the night after that disaster of a High Lord meeting. Perhaps he was the cause for the events to turn so sour especially when he had choked a certain High Lord’s son. The male was practically begging for it, for throwing a comment like that to Mor or perhaps it was the comment he had whispered in Azriel’s ear when he throttled the son into the ground, “You smell like an elven whore”. After the meeting had adjourned and Mor beckoned to Helion’s room, the noises shared between the two just caused his mood to turn colder. As long as he was back in time for the meeting tomorrow morning, Rhys could give two shits what he did with his time. Which led him to the healer’s cottage.
You had your silk white robe tied loosely around your body, as the moon shone upon you, creating a soft glow on your skin and rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you opened the door for him. The moment he saw you, he was silently thanking the mother that you could not scent the arousal and pent-up frustration that radiated off of his body. Azriel crept closer to you and softly murmured.
“Can we speak in private?” His hand reaches to push a strand of hair behind your ear, earning a blush from your cheeks. Azriel could hear your pounding heartbeat and the way you looked at him with a mixture of sleepiness and confusion. You simply nodded and ushered him quietly to your room. You wondered if he would even fit in the room. However surprising that he did, you cast a spell around the room to keep any noise from escaping. Azriel’s typical warm eyes were darkened.
You wrapped your robe more securely around yourself, yet Azriel could still see the soft buds of your breasts through the sheer fabric. He quickly directed his gaze elsewhere, his cheeks flushing with heat. You noticed the tension in his posture and the shadows that seemed to move faster, swirling around him. He loomed in the small space of your humble bedroom, seeming larger than usual with his wings folded tightly against his back.
“Azriel,” you began softly, even cautiously, “what’s wrong? Aren’t you supposed to be at the meeting?”
Azriel didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he paced the length of the room. His boots, were heavy on the ground with each step, his entire presence overwhelming in the confined space. Finally, he stopped, facing you, his expression a mixture of frustration and something deeper-something raw and unguarded.
“I need…” His voice was a low rumble, the words catching his throat as if he was struggling to find the right ones. To perhaps not scare you as a primal growl was pushed back. “I need to be away from them. From all of it. Just for a while.”
You stepped closer, and your heart that thundered in your chest. The way he looked at you with those dark golden eyes, with such intensity, made your breath catch. “What happened?”
Azriel, the one everyone thought was the most calm and collected of the inner circle, quickly lost all sense of restraint by how close you were. His gaze settled on your collarbone and then back to your watercolor eyes that seemed to shine from the creeping moonlight. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “A lot. Too much.” He shook his head, a hand running through his dark curls. Something that he has done too many times tonight by the looks of it. The way they trousled, yet still seemed alluring. His entire presence was captivating, to say the least. “Things were said. Actions taken. And now…I need to not think.”
You understood. Sometimes the world around us was too loud. Sometimes you needed the world to quiet down, for peace to overcome you. Yet, this was something you haven’t seen in him, in his stoic exterior. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, which caused him to freeze a little as his gaze lowered to your neck again. “I’m here for you, Azriel. You’re free to speak freely.” You whispered to him softly.
His response rattled you, heat flushed you as his words spook lowly, “And can I act freely?” He whispered, His gaze still on your neck, his eyes softening just a fraction.
Was the air in the room always this heavy? Had your heart always been this loud, like a war drum set for battle? Have you always felt this emotion? How about the heat pooling within your body?
Questions pondered you, holding your tongue, but you nodded your head yes.
Without another word, he pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if you were his lifeline. You could feel the hardness of his muscles, years, even centuries of training, causing tension to coil within him. His lips brushed against your neck as a sound you’ve never made before escaped your lips when you felt him bite down. Time seemed to stand still in that moment, as if the outside world had ceased to exist, leaving the two of you in the heat of a moment. A feeling you have never felt before as he licked the bite mark, the blood that trickled slightly. When he looked up at you with those golden, hazel eyes with the blood-stained on the corner of his mouth, Azriel shifted slightly, enough to look at you, his gaze searching yours.
You could barely breathe, caught between the intensity of his gaze and the primal connect that surged between you. His fingers traced your jaw to the back of your neck, his touch both gentle and possessive. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, his voice rough with need and laced with a whine as you pressed closer into him.
“Oh how I’d worship you,” he muttered as his eyes scanned your features, perhaps waiting for a confirmation that you were okay with this, “Have you ever been with a male? Have you ever been touched or kissed?” His words made your heart flutter but you quietly muttered that you haven’t as your voice trembled.
“I haven’t had the feeling to ever…do that sort of thing,” You whispered, those words seemed to have ignited a feeling inside him because his voice had a hint of something feral.
“How about now,” he gently nuzzled his face into the nape of your neck as his fingers moved to caress your collarbone. Pushing the robe slightly, causing your breath to hitch.
“You are making me feel things that I have never felt before. Things that make me feel hot and heavy,” Your words came out laced with anticipation. A rush of emotions overwhelmed you as you whispered to him, “but I’d be willing to…feel these emotions with you.”
The answer Azriel was waiting for he nipped your neck. Another whimper escaped your lips. With a growl, his fingers traveled back to your chin lifting slightly so his lips could meet yours. Captured, into a kiss that was gentle, yet demanding. Your body reacted upon instinct, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing closer to him, feeling the roughness of his leathers pressing against the thin fabric of your robe.
He gently lifted you into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. Both your breaths ragged in-between rough kisses, he carried you in his arms to the bed. The world outside faded entirely as he laid you down genly, his body hovering over yours, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation. When he found none, he gently whispered in your ear.
“Are you sure? We can always stop here,” he asked, his breath hot against your skin.
“Yes,” you breathed, your hands raching up to tangle in his hair, pulling his down to you.
With that, Azriel’s control snapped. His lips had descended on yours again, his hands roamed your body, pushing your robe aside. His skilled scarred fingers finding your perky buds. Tuggling gently, as your breath would hitch, he broke your kiss to travel to the small bud he was playing with.
“So beautiful,” he groaned as he licked the bud gently, earning another whimper from you as you covered your eyes, “None of that love, don’t ever hide those gorgeous eyes from me.” You looked down at him, panting like a dog in heat.
What was this feeling and why did you feel so obsessed?
Azriel continued to torment your breasts with his rough hands. Torment, might not be the best word, in fact, it would be worship. As he would suckle on them, pinch them, lick the lingering sensitivity away. Leaving gentle nip marks that looked like small cherry blossom leaves.
Yet, Azriel did not stop there. As his kisses descended upon your body, his markings upon your body seemed to trickle down to the pool of heat between your legs. Using both his hands, he spread your legs apart. His golden eyes meeting yours once more for confirmation, you gave a simple nod.
“Not uh, princess, I need words,” he muttered as his head laid against your thigh. His gaze set upon you, “Let me hear that beautiful voice of yours.” He gently nipped your inner thigh and licked the spot to relieve some of the pain.
“Please…just…touch me, relieve me of this heat” You whimpered, everything felt so warm. So overwhelming. This new feeling of passion.
“Good girl,” Azriel muttered before planting kisses, everywhere else but the place you wanted. Gently pushing your wet panties aside, his gaze still fixated upon you. Dragging one scarred finger between your slit. Your breath hitched as you whimpered out another moan and a curse. His name was like a prayer on your tongue as he kissed that bundle of nerves.
Azriel had been with many women in the past, but right now in this very moment, he was sure he had never experienced a taste like this. You tasted as if you were ambrosia made for the gods, leaving him eating like a man starved. Your whimpers only encourage him. His eyes closed as he rutted against the bed. If he didn’t have years of restraint, he was sure he would have came in his pants the moment your sweet juices touched his tongue that he kept sliding inside you.
One of your hands was grasping his that was resting upon your lower abandon as if you were holding it for dear life or perhaps to ensure you could not run away. Your other hand was gripping the sheets, squeezing with your might. You felt his other hand between your legs spreading your swollen lips to slide a finger into you. As Azriel lifted his head up, revealing your juices that glistened in the moonlight on his beautiful face.
“Now princess, you’ve never came before right?” Azriel said gently as he stroked that finger within you, pressing on your walls. Your gaze met his as you shook your head no, not sure whether words could form out of your mouth anymore. The feeling of his finger, causes warmth to build up within you. Azriel, could not believe how wet you were, you were practically flowing. Pushing down his own needs, he continued, “I’m going to talk you through it okay? I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I could fit for a while. So we're going to go really slow and ease you up so that one day. Not tonight. I could enjoy the pleasure of being in you. Keep your eyes on me the entire time princess, don’t you dare close them.” his words came out with a husky growl. A need for him to be inside you, to feel those walls clasp onto him as they were currently holding his finger tightly.
You nodded, as his gently motioned his finger inside you, keeping it shallow as he pressed against your upper wall. Another moan was earned as the room seemed to now be filled with squelches and other lewd noises. You panted, cheeks flushed, as he held his gaze on yours with a smirk. “Comfortable? Feel good, sweetness?” Azriel groaned as he looked at the wetness seeping out of you and then settled his gaze back on you. “See, I am trying to find your sweet spot, everyone is different but everyone has a spot that-” his fingers traveled deeper, keeping the same pressure until he found it. Your eyes rolled back as he kept applying pressure to that spot. Pure pleasure and relentless torment on that spot. Your walls tightened to the point where he wasn’t sure if he could move them anymore, “Relax princess,” he chuckled. You whimpered in return to his comment. Noises that sounded so lewd, noises you have never made in your three hundred years. “I’m going to speed up okay?” Azriel’s motions sped up and pressed a bit on your lower abdomen earning a silent scream from your lips as hot liquid gushed out.
A virgin and a squirter? Mother above save him.
You blacked out moments later, the intensity of the night and the overwhelming emotions taking their toll on your body. Azriel gently cleaned you up with a towel, his touch tender and careful not to wake you. He tucked you into bed, watching your peaceful face for a moment before heading to the restroom attached to your bedroom to take care of his own needs. Thankful that you had your own bathroom, in concern about how Madja might react to finding out he had kept her new healer up all night.
When finished with preparing for bed, for a least a few hours, Azriel climbed into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and feeling your warmth against him, those concerns melted away. He nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing in your soothing scent, and for the first time that night, he felt a sense of peace.
While the night had been filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the formation of new feelings, and overwhelming emotions, there was a connection between you that both of you desperately needed. In each other’s arms, you found solace and a sense of belonging that had been missing.
Azriel was determined to make the most of the night, with only a few hours left to enjoy your comfort. He wanted to ensure you knew you were cherished and not taken advantage of. He made a mental note to send you flowers in the morning, perhaps a tea as well for all the markings he left upon you. A gesture of sorts to show his care and the growing need for you to be his.
With a contented sigh, Azriel closed his eyes, allowing the rhythmic sound of your breathing to lull him into a restful sleep. The moonlight cast a gentle glow over both of you.
Between Worlds Part IV
A/n: Sorry for the short chapter! I'm going to be really busy this week with work so I won't have another update til next week probably. Next week's update with be part two of "A City of Dreams" and part five for between worlds. Thank you everyone for the love on the last one. Hope you guys enjoy a bit of Azriel's pov. :))
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!
Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel.
Trigger Warnings? None!
Work Count: 1.2k
‧₊˚✧ Reader POV ✧˚₊‧
Azriel left nothing but his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar lingering in the air. After he departed, you made your way into the estate, feeling somewhat dazed as you traversed up the steps and through the doorway. give Thoughts of your recent conversation swirled in your mind. How could Azriel be so considerate? He seemed to accept the bargain without too much hesitation, despite gaining nothing from it. Azriel’s unexpected acceptance left you feeling uneasy. Did he have a plan, or was he simply indulging on a whim? It was hard to tell with someone as enigmatic as Azriel. After all, to the fae, three months might feel like a mere blink of an eye.
As soon as you stepped into the hall of the estate, your maid who seemed to be in a frantic mood quickly intercepted you as she caught your eye, her expression tense as she guided you to your bedroom. “Where have you been?” she chided softly, her grip on her apron betraying her nerves. “You’ve never done anything like this before, in all twenty-six years of your life. If your parents found out…why they would never let you leave again.”
“I’m sorry…I stayed the night with Hazel,” The lie seemed to slip out, almost like muscle memory. A few thoughts occurred to you.
But what if you told her the truth? Would she be excited? How long has she been your maid? What even if her name?
A small huff pulled you away from lingering thoughts.
“You smell like a drunken fool, you look like one too. Bath, now” Your maid instructed, her tone firm as she closed the bedroom door behind us.
“Thank you for covering for me” your voice barely above a whisper, as you made your way to the bathroom attached to your bedroom quarters. The words felt hollow on your tongue, weighed down by the guilt of deceiving everyone around you. Yet, somehow beneath the surface, a sliver of relief flickered, knowing that you had someone you could trust somewhat.
Before you began to strip off the dress, you looked over at your maid who was searching your closet for a dress. You simply stated.
“Could you find me a journal? One with a lock or a ward?” Your maid gave you a quizzical look and shrugged with a nod. A wave of her hand ushered you to quickly bathe as there was much to do today.
‧₊˚✧ Azriel POV ✧˚₊‧
I winnowed back to the outskirts of the House of Wind, the rush of air exhilarating as I took flight. My wings unfurled to their full span, casting long shadows across the ground as I landed softly in front of the house. As I made my way to my room, a deep sigh escaped my lips, the weight of recent events pressing down on me.
My mate
The realization still felt surreal, after all these years of waiting. Yet, despite my excitement, doubts nagged at the edges of my mind. Was she afraid? Last night, she seemed drawn to me, but today, only fear and concern marred her features.
What was she hiding?
I understand my reputation proceeds me, as I’ve done horrible things. I’ve killed, tortured, and manipulated in more ways than I could count. I know I’m undeserving of a mate, one that seemed so perfect. Yet, somehow, I feel as if she already knows of the horrible things that I’ve done. The way her fingers would brush across my scarred hands as if they weren’t… horrible as if they hadn’t caused pain and hurt to the world.
The shadows… I never expected them to be so soft
You seemed to see his shadows as a part of him, something to be cherished and praised. While others thought of them as something to be feared, something people shunned besides his family. Yet, how often did you think about his shadows, especially since you both have never met before?
The chances of you two meeting were slim, it could have happened in passing. Your father is one of the government officials for Velaris. A kind man, though he had only spoken to him maybe once or twice. Though, I could never forget her if we had met, the way her eyes seemed to gleam up at me like stars. Eyes that made him feel safe as if he could drown in them from the warmness they beheld.
For once, he felt like he could let his guard down, and it was a surreal feeling, one he was hesitant to admit. Perhaps, that’s why he trusts her so much that he made a bargain that didn’t benefit him in the slightest.
Why were you so intoxicating? Occupying his mind like a drug? We had only just met, yet I crave you.
The urge to send a few of his shadows your way to at least know that you’re safe. You seemed so trusting and naive, what if someone used that against you? Though he knew the terms of the bargain as he rubbed the small marking on his wrist. Didn’t mean he liked the terms.
Azirel also knew he didn’t have to wait three months to see you, but you looked desperate for something. As if you lacked time, you’re fae? Privileged fae…you had all the time in the world. Therefore, what was causing that pretty little mind of yours to hesitate to be his mate? What did you need to complete before you both could be mated together?
A distraction is what he needed.
A curse was under his breath as he knew he was behind on reports that he needed to complete before the Starfall event with his family. He couldn’t let himself go crazy thinking of y/n and what she was doing. Perhaps, he would send flowers, maybe even a little shadow, one that he would command not to report to him but just so she knew he was still here…that if she needed him, he was a whisper away.
A deep sigh escaped his lips as he ran his fingers through his raven black hair grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a note. An awful idea really, but how harmful would it be?
My Dearest Y/n,
How you have ensnared me in your spell, I cannot fathom. Your very presence is a symphony of enchantment, weaving its melody through the fibers of my soul. For you, my mate, I offer these flowers to brighten your hangover, accompanied by one of my shadows. Fear not for I have commanded them to honor our bargain, refraining from any prying or divulging of secrets. Should you ever need me, simply whisper to the shadow and I will come to you at a moment’s notice.
In truth, I am not one to resort to poetry or love letters, but for you, I would humble myself before the Mother.
With all my affection,
Azriel, your mate
With a flick of his wrist, a silent command, the shadow obediently trailed off, carrying the letter. Azriel had commanded it to bring flowers from Elain’s garden as well. As he watched the shadow disappear, a deep sigh along with a curse escaped his lips. Despite the tasks awaiting him, his mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of you.
Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe, @why4anne, @impossibelle, @lilah-asteria