#I’m always thinking about azris

[yourlazykitkat]

I don’t know why but I always imagine azris falling in love in the the winter court.

They’d both be there for work- Eris seamlessly stringing people along with his silver tongue, Azriel spying through the pale shadows of winter. There’s a mutual understanding that when Eris notices a few rebellious shadows, he looks away with a blinding smile so that whatever courtier he’s charming doesn’t see a thing, that when Azriel watches Eris slip into the private rooms- he calls his own spies off and attends himself so that whisper of a conspiracy does not bleed out. They don’t get along at all but they are reluctant allies.

Which makes things confusing when Eris catches a glimpse of Azriel from his guest room windows. The sharp, dangerous edges of an imposing Ilyrian softening in the gentle rain of snow, sleet falling on a beautiful face which shifts from cold stone to quiet wonder. Things are confusing when Azriel as a spy, an extremely unwelcome guest, has no place to stay but cold abandoned rooms and empty rafters. Illyrians are resistant to the colder more than others but it doesn’t stop Eris taking pity on Azriel who’s shoulders are stiff and fingers are blue. Eris is warm, his hand drags Azriel to his own quarters- Azriel has never held someone who’s blood runs so hot. He wonders if all autumn fae are like this or if it’s just Eris. The autumn prince will hide Azriel in his room and it gets confusing when late nights when either of them can sleep, they start talking about Eris’ dogs, Azriel’s shadows. They argue until they have to go to bed furious at each other (but keep each other warm) on some nights and others, they confess forgotten dreams and weak promises.

It’s confusing because they’re both workaholics who know better than this. There’s no playing at work- that just leads to horrible choices and decisions that they can’t afford to make. They act on behalf of their courts, they’ve learned better than to listen to their thundering, traitorous hearts.

It was useless to fight it, the surge of emotion, the falling in love. Azriel has never felt more helpless when he treks the wintery forests with Eris one day for no other reason than the fact he wants to- watching Eris scale a tree with a fire flickering beneath his feet. Eris shakes the tree, ice and snow falls on Azriel and he can only look in the same wonder as that first night. Eris slips, on purpose or on accident, and Azriel rushes forward to soften the other’s fall. The flash of lovely red hair again the pure snow, warm laughter ringing out and Eris as an anchor in his arms- Azriel has never been more helpless.

Or Eris, who plays along with the winter nobles, with the high lord and lady. By the end of the day, he’s exhausted with these games. He doesn’t want to play with the mask. In quiet moments of respite, he sits in the cozy libraries with a book and by the frosted windows. He never finishes a book because by the time he opens to the first page, writing appears in the frost. Telling him he looks stupid, telling him he looks like a pretentious fuck. Telling him that they’ll bring back liquorice tonight from the court’s premiere confectionary even though liquorice fucking sucks Eris. Eris will write back. They’ll spar with a thesaurus: brute, prick, pain in my ass, the bane of my existence, the death of me- and one day the frost answers back a word Eris doesn’t recognise. But he is in a library and he hunts down the answer and when he does, his ears are red all through dinner. It was too much effort, he thinks to himself when laying in bed with Azriel who sleeps soundly with a strong arm over Eris, too fight against this.

[nocasdatsgay]

A Lesson in Heartbreak

2 of 3: Words are Painful Weapons

Rating: T | Word Count: 3983 | Pairing: Azris/Reader

Summary: Eris and Azriel made promises they didn’t keep. When you confront them about it, Eris says some things he instantly regrets. Now him and Azriel have to fix what they broke.

Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist| Read on A03| Part 1| Read Below

Warnings: Angst, Eris has a sharp tongue, alcohol, drunk!Eris

A/N: HI so… yeah… I am alive. Sorry this took so long. A second shout out to @daycourtofficial for inspiration with Azriel and his comments when he comes back.

Tagging: @myromanempiree @pit-and-the-pen @lilah-asteria @thisblogisaboutabook @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @paleidiot @div94 (if you are tagged by accident or want to be tagged in the future, let me know)

“There. A letter to Tarquin and a letter to her.” Eris sent them with a flick of his wrist. 

Azriel calmed enough to sit while Eris penned the letters. They needed you to come home so they could talk with you in person. Deep down, Eris was thoroughly embarrassed over the whole situation. Not only at himself but for you leaving to another court. He wondered if this was how Tamlin felt all those years ago, when Feyre ran off to the Night Court. Eris suddenly had empathy for him in retrospect. 

He slumped back in his chair and sighed. He needed a stiff drink. But he wanted to be sober if you came home. Azriel sat across from him, arms  crossed against his chest and brows furrowed like he did when he was deep in thought. His eyes were still rimmed in red from earlier. The Shadows were nowhere in sight. 

“What?” Eris looked at his mate. 

Az cut his eyes to Eris, still frowning. “I want you to tell me exactly what you said to her.”

“I’m surprised your shadows didn’t already tell you.” Eris didn’t hold back his eye roll or his sigh. “I don’t fully remember.” 

Everything was a blur from earlier. When he got like that, he never remembered what he said. 

“Well think fucking harder.” Eris could see Azriel’s fingers dig into his sleeves. 

“She came in screaming at me about missing dinner.” It reminded him too much of his mother. The way she would yell at his father when he was a youngling. Eris tried to focus, to put that aside. “I told her the high lord meeting was more important. We were hosting, and.”

After a moment Az said, “And what, Eris”

He cursed under his breath. “I said she would understand that if she had bothered to help. Since she isn’t helping, she doesn't get to complain that we are busy. She knew what she was getting into when we mated.”

Azriel recoiled where he sat. “How could you say that to her?” 

“It’s the truth, Azriel.” Eris brushed back his hair with his hand. “This is what it’s like to be mated to a High Lord. We have responsibilities. Yes, I was wrong for implying she didn’t want to help because she asked and I told her she didn’t have to. I admit that.” 

Shadows came out as Az replied. “And we made promises we didn’t keep.”

“I know I did. It eats me alive that I broke them but what else am I supposed to do? It’s our first time hosting, I’ve only been High Lord for a decade and a half. She’s worked for multiple courts. She knows these things have to be perfect or others will talk.” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t take a break to have dinner with her.” Az countered. 

Eris glared at him. “Do not act like you are any better. You weren’t there either.”

He winced. “You’re right. I wasn’t.” Then he glared back. “But maybe I would have been there if you let other people do their job instead of making it our problem.”

“Oh you’re going to blame me?” Eris was on his feet. “By the gods. I’m always your scapegoat because it’s easy to blame me than for you to look in a fucking mirror.”

“Eris.” A warning, as shadows built around him. 

“Am I wrong?” Azriel didn’t answer. Eris and his sharp tongue kept going. “You blamed me for centuries when it came to Mor. To this court. To my father. Let’s just add this to it.” He paused. Before he could stop himself he added. “It wouldn’t even be a fucking issue if it was just us.” 

Eris felt the shock through the bond from Az before he shut him out. Even the shadows recoiled from around Az.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t have to repeat myself. We work well together,” he gestured between them, “because we know what to expect from each other. She wants so much more than either of us are capable of.”

Shadows shrunk back again. “That’s not true.”

“It is!” Then words spewed from his mouth like viper venom. “I wish Elain never told us. I wish I never let you get your fucking hopes up, looking for a third bond in every fucking fae you brought to our bed. But I love you, so I let you do it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Azriel was on his own feet, siphons on his hands flashing. “I always got your consent, you said it was fine. You brought your own-”

Eris’s mouth ran away from him again. He didn’t raise his voice; his tone did the work for him. 

“Maybe I lied. I only took other lovers so you wouldn’t feel guilty. I was just trying to make you happy because I was never enough for you. Even the Mother herself knew. She knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent us her.” 

Az looked like he’d been struck. Guilt and insecurity Eris had buried for decades laid out on full display. At that moment Eris hoped Azriel hurt just as much as he did. The silence between them was heavy and loud. It was finally Azriel who spoke, his own words sharp and stinging. 

“I never asked to be mated to you. You say this is easier for me and you, but it’s only easy for you. What’s easy is loving her. It’s not my fault you’re too fucked up to know that too.” 

Shadows grew thick around him and he winnowed out of the room. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You showered and changed into a soft seafoam colored nightgown, given to you by Samira. She was sitting by a small side table reading when you came back into the bedroom. She set her book down and got up from her seat. 

“Did you tell him, Tarquin?” You asked. 

In your haste to get away, you didn’t think about the implications of your actions. Namely as High Lord’s mate seeking refuge in another court. You liked Tarquin a lot. He was kind and you were so happy when Samira and him hit it off. But he was still a High Lord of another court. Samira didn’t look you in the eyes from where she had sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I only told him what you told me.”

“That’s fine,” you said quickly. You got onto the bed and crawled up beside her. “I understand. If you hadn’t told him, I would have.”

“That said,” she put her hand over yours. “You’re here as my guest. Any correspondence will come directly to me unless there is a threat to the court.” 

You winced and she gave you a sympathetic look. Your mates were both known for their tempers. Azriel was well known for his impulsive behavior. You prayed to the Mother that neither of them acted irrationally. A hard thing to hope knowing you sealed this room the moment you entered. 

“Did you want some tea or do you want to rest for the night?” 

“Tea. I need to talk if you’re willing to listen.”

“Always,” she smiled. 

You grabbed a light robe and moved into the small sitting room. She waited as Samira had tea brought to the room. She fixed you a cup, and then she sat down and took her own in her hands. 

“So what happened?”

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to figure out where to start. 

You explained the best you could. How they both made a promise to go to dinner and neither showed. You explained how distant they’d been for months. You explained how Eris told you that dinner wasn’t as important as whatever he was working on with the upcoming summit. 

“He said I knew what I was getting into when we mated. As if I’m not managing his court while his nose is stuck in itinerary lists.” You added bitterly. 

She winced. “And Azriel? What did he say about all this?” 

“He said he was sorry. He lost track of time. Conveniently he was silent when I asked why his shadows didn’t remind him.” You stared down at the tea in your hand. You could feel your eyes water again. “He hasn’t- he has always been more physically affectionate than Eris. Out in public, at least. But he hasn’t even-“

You stopped yourself, your face burning. Samira didn’t need to know how Az hadn’t even called you by a specific pet name in weeks. Eris even longer. And how was you supposed to explain they even stopped just casually touching you? It was childish, to be upset about something so silly. Yet thinking about it just made you cry again. 

You wiped your eyes. “It just feels as if  they don’t want me anymore.”

“They're your mates, of course they want you.”

“Mates doesn’t always mean love, Samira. They did just fine without me for what? Two decades? Maybe longer. Maybe they miss it just being the two of them.” 

“Now you’re talking nonsense. Stop it,” she gave you a pointed look. 

“What if it’s the truth?” You were so sick of crying. You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “They know each other so well. What do they need me for?” 

They didn’t.

That was your whole issue. They didn’t need you. Eris and Az could practically communicate without words. They moved around each other seamlessly. Eris knew exactly how Az liked his tea. Az knew to move papers closer to the inside of the desk when Eris was on a rant, his hands moving about as he talked. Eris knew when to make the spare room without even asking Azriel if he needed it. You tried to watch, to listen. Five years and you still weren’t in tune with them. 

Samira shuffled in her seat, drawing your attention back to her. 

“Eris wrote a letter to Tarquin. I got it while you were bathing. It wasn’t much, just him requesting to know if you were here and if so, that you get this.” She held up an envelope with his seal on it. “I wrote back that I would handle communication and you’d be staying the night.” 

She laid the letter on the table in front of you. Your chest ached, begging you to open it immediately. You shoved it down. 

Samira added, “I informed him that if you want to stay longer, I can’t make you leave. Tarquin has already agreed to allow you to stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” you whispered and stared back down at your tea again. 

“Sleep on it. You can have breakfast with us and decide what you want to do in the morning.”

You nodded. Sleep sounded nice now that the adrenaline of the evening had crashed. You drained the rest of your tea and bid Samira good night. You left the letter on the table. You’d read it in the morning. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris poured himself the stiffest drink he’d had in decades. The shame and embarrassment of everything was still burning in his chest. He downed his drink in one swing and poured another. Both his mates were gone. He walked over to his desk where the correspondence with summer sat. Your friend had written back instead of Tarquin. He downed his second drink. 

To make things less complicated, I will be handling correspondence until this is resolved. Unless there is a threat to the court, I will not involve the high lord. I promise I will give her your letter in the morning. She was distraught when she arrived and I’ve just gotten her calmed. She’s currently bathing and I will get her some tea to help her sleep. 

There was a break in the letter and she added. 

She has yet to tell me what happened fully, but as her friend I am warning you both that you two better make this right. I will try to convince her to return in the morning, but she is a grown female. If she requests to stay, Tarquin has already told me she may. 

Eris tossed the letter back onto the desk. He doubted once you found out Az left too that you’d come home. It’s what he deserved. 

He was a fool to think he could do this- have two mates. To think he could be any better than his father. Three years mated to you and he still couldn’t control himself. Couldn’t toe the line between work and leisure. Fifteen mated to Az and he still spewed venom in his direction the moment he was cornered. And Eris finally got a taste of his own medicine when Azriel spewed it right back. 

With a heavy sigh, Eris pulled out more parchment and ink. There would not be a high lord summit- not with all of this happening. He’d draft the letters and send them in the morning. If he could sleep at all, with no one sharing his bed. He went and made a third drink. He opened his bonds and see if you or Az would respond. 

Still shut out. The urge to down that third drink was strong. He needed to be sober in the morning even if he didn’t want to be. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel flew until his emotions settled. Eris’s foul words rung in his ears still. ‘I wish Elain never told us’ he’d said. ��Even the mother herself knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent her.’ 

His eyes watered and it wasn’t from the wind in them. There was an ache in his chest- both bonds were shut out. He and Eris fought plenty, before and after they reconciled and the bond snapped. Somehow this was still the worst. He ignored his own words that spewed like venom in response to what Eris had said. 

Azriel was angry and hurt. He left- if he stayed any longer the whole Forest House may have been burned to the ground. He circled the border between Autumn and Winter. He couldn't go back, not tonight. He landed in a clearing, stretching out his wings before tucking them back in. He didn’t want to go to Valeris. He had one other option. His shadows seemed to agree, as they circled him and he winnowed. 

He landed outside the wards of Rosehall. The fae lights shown through the window. 

She is awake. a shadow whispered. 

He thought about turning back. He didn’t want to disturb his mother, to bother her with his problems. Yet his feet carried him forward, the wards rippling around him. He tucked his wings in tight and walked to the door. He didn‘t have to knock; the wards were designed to let only few in and to notify her when someone arrived. He could hear the rush of footsteps inside and braced himself as the door opened. 

“Azriel?” His mother answered the door, a navy shawl you made for her wrapped tight around her shoulders, sides shaped to accommodate her wings. “What has happened?”

”I had a fight with my mates.” He said quickly. “They’re fine; I just- I couldn’t stay.”

His mother brushed back loose hair to tuck it behind her ear. He realized her hair was half braided. She nodded, and stepped aside to let him in. 

“I’m sorry, I can go.”

”Nonsense, come in. I just made tea.”

His shadows swirled past him, one or two weaving around his mother. They always loved her; probably more than him if he was honest. He stepped through the frame and looked around. He had visited two weeks ago and already things had changed. His heart skipped, looking into the sitting room. Feyre had taken to decorating his mother’s house with portraits and paintings. The one above the fireplace was of him and his mother. It was a new one on the wall to the left that wasn’t there two weeks ago that made him stop in his tracks. It was of his mother, himself, you, and Eris. From your mating ceremony, based on the clothing and how close together you all were. 

“The High Lady spoils me,” his mother said from his right. “Says my house is too empty. You should see the garden painting she had mounted in the hall a few days ago. Come.” 

He felt her hand grab his own. He could only grip back loosely. He didn’t realize how cold his fingers had gotten from flying. If she noticed, she didn’t say. She led him to the kitchen where a kettle sat on the stove. He sat at the small table and watched almost numbly while she gathered cups and poured the tea. 

“Zemër, tell me what happened.” 

Az looked down at the cup as she sat it in front of him. He wrapped his hands around it, letting the warmth ease the stiffness in his hands. If he was home, Eris would do it for him. He pushed that thought away. He took a few sips, relishing in how the warmth flowed through his chest. His mother waited patiently across from him, braiding the rest of her hair for bed. 

“I said some things I shouldn’t have.” His shadows nudged him on the shoulder. “I made a promise and didn’t keep it.” She hummed and tied off her hair. His voice cracked a little when he added. “I don’t know if I can fix it.” 

There was a beat of silence and his mother took a sip of her tea. “Why do you think such a thing?” 

“Because she left!” He snapped. His mother flinched and shadows hissed at him for raising his voice. “I’m sorry. She left and he- we’ve been so busy and she asked for one dinner and neither of us went. Then she left. And Eris said things. So I said things back.”  

He hated that hot tears fell down his cheeks. And that his mother was looking at him with pity. She reached over and took his hand, holding it tightly in her own. 

“Words are painful weapons and you are the best warrior in all prythian.” That made Azriel snort and she smiled softly. “This is a fight. Not a war. You haven’t lost yet. They are your mates. You love them. If you haven’t given up your love for them, what makes you think they have so easily given up their love for you?” 

She had him there. He gave her hand a squeeze, a gesture of thanks. Then a shadow swirled up his arm quickly. 

We must go. He furrowed his brows. He walks to our balcony. We must stop him. We must go. Go. 

“Shit.” Azriel winced at himself. He hated cursing in front of his mother. “Mama, I have to go. Thank you. For the tea.” 

She watched him stand, not letting go of his hand. “Be careful, my love.” 

Despite the tugging of the shadows he gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you in two weeks. I promise.” 

She nodded and he winnowed away. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At some point, Eris wasn’t sure when; he grabbed the whole bottle instead of pouring himself a glass. He couldn’t sleep. Not alone, with his thoughts and past memories hovering around the edges of the bed. They we’re waiting in the dark to grip him when he was most vulnerable. So instead he drank. Drank to numb the emptiness like he used to in the days before. 

One minute he was in his chambers and the next he was stumbling up stairs. There were several balconies in the forest house but there was only one nearest to the roof. He built it for Azriel. It had no railings, just a place for him to take off when he went flying. Az swore he didn’t need it; but he still used it. In Eris’s mind, Az would use the balcony when he came back home.

Because he had to come home. You both had to come home. Eris didn’t think he could bear it if you didn’t. It took him a moment when he reached the door to focus enough to grab the handle. Gods, he hadn’t been this drunk since his youth. Pushing into the room, it was bare- save the single old couch, rug, and unlit fireplace. His gaze fixated on the double glass doors that led to the balcony. If he could just get out there, he could wait. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Eris nearly fell over, balance upended by Az’s voice behind him. He grabbed Eris by his shirt to pull him steady. Shadows that had been absent swirled in his vision, grazing his hair and neck as if checking him over. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning and his focus fixated on the male before him. 

“You came back,” Eris whispered. 

“Of course I did.” Azriel’s nose crinkled at Eris’ breath. “You're drunk.”

“Can’t sleep.” He felt his eyes water. He reached for Azriel’s shoulder but Az held him in place. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.” 

“Look at me,” Az’s hands were cold as they cradled Eris’ face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

“Your hands are cold.” He muttered, his own reaching up to cover them. He wasn’t sober enough to focus his magic like he wanted to. 

“They are.” Az gave him a soft smile. “I’ll live.” 

Eris frowned. “Why did you come back?” 

To Azriel’s credit, he didn’t seem shocked at the question. 

“I came back because I love you.” And Azriel meant it. 

“But you said-“

“I said it’s not easy.” He paused for a moment. “It’s not easy but I choose you. I will always choose you. Because I love you.”

There was silence between them for a moment. 

“She’s not coming back.” 

Az grimaced. “Eris, it’s late. She’s safe in Summer and probably sleeping. Like we both should be.”

“But I need her here.” Eris could hardly bear it. He needed you back. He needed to apologize. “Can’t we go get her?” 

“So you want to start a war with Summer?” Az’s face was serious but there was a tilt in his voice. 

“You’re laughing at me.” Eris replied solemnly. 

“You’re drunk. It’s hard not to.” He sighed, his wings slumping and shadows buzzing about them. “Let’s go to bed and sleep this off.” 

Eris was silent but seemed to concede. Az guided him out the room and back to their chambers. He would have winnowed if Eris hadn’t been so inebriated. He really didn’t feel like cleaning up vomit. 

“You’re too good to me,” Eris muttered as they made their way down the hall. 

Az tightened his arm around him. “I could argue the same.”  

More silence passed. “Do you think she’ll come back?” 

Azriel didn’t reply. He could only hope. His shadows whispered as much as he helped Eris undress in their chamber and get him to bed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In Summer, you tossed and turned. The air was too warm even with the cool magical breeze that floated through the open windows. The bed was too small. Too empty. You finally cast a spell on your blanket and pillows, making them colder. How funny you’d gotten used to Autumn's colder climate.

The spell worked too well. You were suddenly too cold, too cold without Eris and Az’s body heat to keep you warm. Tears fell on your pillow. They were probably sleeping fine without you. Your mind went to the letter you left in the other room. You were too afraid to open it. They probably only wanted you home until after the High Lords’ meeting. Or maybe they never wanted you to come back. You pulled the blanket tight around yourself. Whatever the letter said could wait until morning. 

You sighed and tried to go to sleep. 

Part 3

[danikamariewrites]

If you're willing to do a more platonic/familial request, could you do some headcanons on being Rhysand's youngest sister?? And then I had an additional idea of being his sister + Azris' mate... but I'll let you decide which aspects you'd like to write about :) (if you want to write about it at all, of course!)

Princess of the Night Court

IC x reader (platonic)

Notes: I went with reader just being the sister I hope you don’t mind, I wanted to explore this dynamic before hopping outside the night court

Warnings: some angst

Being the second born of the former NC High Lord meant you had the freedoms to do some things your brother couldn’t

However much you pushed your brother’s buttons when he became High Lord you still loved each other. And you really stepped up to help him with his royal duties

You were a bit nervous and relieved when your father died. You knew what he expected of you but you were unsure how the power and position would change Rhys

The biggest blessing Rhys gave you was the freedom to marry whoever and whenever. There was no pressure and he would not dare use you as a bargaining tool, ever

Being princess came with the never ending princess treatment

Your people adored you and you them

You frequented shops in Velaris and always made sure to talk with everyone and hear their troubles

It also meant that Azriel and Cassian were your forever body guards

And how fun is it to ditch them?! It’s even more fun when they finally track you down. Their faces all scrunched in anger and that vein popping in Cassian’s forehead that you just want to poke

The two were your brothers, there was no denying Az and Cass treated you like the sister they never had

They were just as protective (maybe more at times) than Rhys is of you and you loved them for it

When you had your first heartbreak one of the first people you went to for comfort was Azriel. He was always your shoulder to cry on and he’s a good listener

The three of them would be up anyone that hurt you

To try and have some semblance of a normal life while Rhys was gone you tried to date. It did not go well. The male you went to dinner with had said some nasty things about your family and came home bawling your eyes out. When you told Cass, Az, and Mor, Cassian was the most angry. He left and came home with bloody knuckles. That night he sat next to your bed reading you stories like when you were little

After Rhys came home from under the mountain you gave him his space and were more serious than usual

Something you hadn’t had in a long time with your brother was a sleepover. You used to crawl into his bed at night when you had nightmares and Rhys would reassure you that everything would be ok

Just as you were planning to go to Rhys for a sleepover to make him feel normal a knock sounded at your door. Opening it you found your brother looking disheveled and on the verge of tears. You pulled him in and you got into your bed. You laid there in silence for a very long time, both wide awake. “I know you can’t and don’t want to talk about everything yet. But we’re all here for you Rhys. I’m here for you big brother. And I won’t think any differently of you for any of it.” Rhys just pulled you into a bone crushing hug and cried and cried until he fell asleep. You hadn’t seen him cry like that since your mother died

Out of everyone of the Inner Circle you were the most overjoyed to have Rhys home

You did everything in your power to make sure he was comfortable and welcome

The sacrifices he made for the court were ones you would never forget

Watching Rhys fall in love with Feyre made your heart swell. You saw a light burn in him that hadn’t been there since he was younger

Becoming friends with Feyre was a journey

She didn’t like you at first since she only knew the stories that Tamlin and Lucien had told her

Fun lil bit of history Tamlin left out was that you and him hooked up but he was kinda mad it was only ever that and not more

But when you and Mor broke through and Feyre trusted you enough her friendship was a beautiful thing

And you had a new buddy to pick on Cassian with

Learning Feyre was pregnant after the war you were so excited to be an aunt! You were going to spoil the shit out of this baby boy

[chunkypossum]

Azris Week 2024 Master List

I knew I wanted to participate in @azrisweek this year but I think I went nuts. Tried to make sure I planned only one shots but a couple of things will be WIP. I have also decided that I hate everything I have ever written but you’re getting it anyway 🤣

Going through final edits the next couple days. Here's a rundown….

Ps… I’m the worst summarizer EVER…

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Day 2: Familiars || Once Upon A Dream

14k words || READ ON AO3

Elain is nice, quiet and easy to be around. Azriel and his shadows find solace in her company. When her powers as seer become evident however, Azriel is forced to reckon with a familiar part of his past that is about to take on a whole new meaning.

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Day 3: Contact || Between Us

9k words READ ON AO3

Physics and the Immortality of the Soul . The most ridiculous notion Azriel could have picked to build his career around. He had spent half a lifetime tasking himself with impossible questions which very few people took seriously. A strange nostalgia for things he didn’t understand manifested after a childhood accident. This set his life on a path that one day leads him to the front doors of a strange library full of precious and one of a kind books and an even stranger connection to someone completely unexpected. One of which might finally give him the answers he was seeking.

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Day 4: Free Day || Just for Tonight

9k words READ ON AO3

New High Lords are extremely vulnerable. It’s a well known secret that as the new magic enters their bodies they have no more protection than a newborn. When Eris finds himself forced to take the throne, becoming completely helpless, he goes to the one place, and the one person he thinks may just save him.

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Day 5: Slice of Life || The Trees Told Me About You

8k words READ ON AO3

A few months after their mating frenzy “activities” in the dirt of the Autumn Court. High Lord Eris finds himself drawn to the very woods he and his mate had shamelessly rolled around in. 

What he finds there shapes their lives forever.

This can be read independently but if you want additional context and did not read Kerosene, you can read the first half of this chapter

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Day 6: Changes || When Even Moonlight Burns

Chapters 1 & 2 (WIP) || 10k words READ ON AO3

The long list of things Eris had found to be grateful for over the years, not so surprisingly, didn't exactly feature a quiet, unassuming existence. The thrill in what he was, demanded pride and exhibition, and gods was he good at playing that game. Well, he had been good at it. Now, as much as he loathed to admit it, there was an odd satisfaction to be found in the simplicity he had agreed to. Unfortunately, as Eris quickly finds out you can't always have the brutes you want... and eat them too.

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Day 7: Solstice || What we Deserve

Chapters 1 & 2 (WIP) || 13k words READ ON AO3

Once upon a time, Eris thought that he and Azriel could be mates whose bond just hadn’t settled yet. It didn’t make sense for him to be so drawn to the male when they were at odds in every other way. It had to be the Mother, had to be fate. Now he knew for sure, it had been none of those things, only simple, stupid want. What happens when Azriel finally finds his mate but it isn't the the male he is already in love with?

If anyone would like to be tagged, please just ask! <3

Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train : @talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi @yanny-77 @areyoudreaminof @unanswered-stars @futurehunt @ninthcircleofprythian @matrixsss @going-through-shit @c-starstuff-man0 @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @krowiathemythologynerd @cauldronblssd @hieragalbatorixdottir @yourlazykitkat @hellolordling @climbthemountain2020

[azsazz]

Cinders and Smoke

Azriel x Eris x Reader

Summary: Azriel finds that he and Eris are more alike than he thought.

Warnings: Graphic depictions of scars/past injuries.

Word Count: 2,061

Notes: A lil Azris angst for 4k?

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“You need to stop goading him into fights,” you sigh, exasperated by your mate. You sit across from Azriel at the dining room table, staring longingly at the door Eris has just disappeared through. You flinch in your seat when you hear the harsher than normal click of your bedroom door slamming shut.

Azriel places his fork onto the table with a clack that earns him another disapproving look. Stretching out his fingers, aching from how hard he’d been clutching the utensil in his hands he scoffs, glaring down at the metal. It doesn’t match any of the others and one of the prongs is more bent than the others and Azriel hates it. He knows Eris gave it to him on purpose, the asshole. The heir to the Autumn Court’s lifestyle is annoyingly endearing. Azriel hopes it doesn’t change when he becomes High Lord.

He’s still fuming from the constant back and forth bickering with the arrogant son of Autumn. It’s bad enough that you live with Eris in the Autumn Court full time, and how Azriel’s the one who has to sneak in and out of this quaint, cozy home, but he bristles at your scolding before a burning rush of guilt twists in his stomach.

“He needs to learn how to share,” Azriel growls, thinking back to the conversation you’d all been having over your meal. “I don’t get to see you as often as I’d like and when I’m here it feels like I’m a guest, not at home with my mate.”

Your gaze softens at his admission. Reaching out for his hands you watch as your mate huffs, reluctantly threading his fingers through yours like the knots connecting your souls.

“Only a little longer, mate,” you murmur, rubbing his knuckles with your thumbs. It’s a hope that Eris will overthrow Beron, but neither of you believe it will happen soon. It’s something, though, knowing that there are plans in motion so that one day there won’t be a perimeter keeping you from seeing either of your mates.

You’re all playing the long game. And what a long, long game it is.

“I don’t know how much longer I can take,” Azriel whispers, voice thick with emotion. He thought that finding his mate would be everything, and it is, but having to share you with Eris was not something he’d ever planned. And with you being the known mate of the heir to Autumn, you had always been by his side, flaunted in meetings and adored by the people of the court. Azriel has never stood a chance, always secret visits and fleeting looks that no one but the three of you understood what they mean. He yearns to be able to stay the night, the week, forever with you.

“Maybe we can talk to Eris,” you suggest, “Maybe he’ll let me visit–”

Azriel chuckles dryly, rolling his eyes. “My love, I think we both know that you won’t be going anywhere near the Night Court without him.”

“Just let me talk to him,” you plead. You know that he’s sore about these things. Even for the shadowsinger to admit this is hard enough, but letting Eris know about how he truly feels? No, he won’t have it unless it’s through a well articulated plan, where he can control the conversation and keep his emotions in check. “It will be quick, I promise.”

He grumbles because he can’t say no to you. You beam, pecking him on the cheek as you pass, headed towards the bedroom Eris has locked himself in. 

Your other mate waits. A few minutes turn into many and he’s at the end of his tether. He looks at the clock on the wall. He needs to be headed back to the Night Court soon and he’d hardly had any time to see you. He’s simmering with anger until finally, he’s had enough.

Azriel takes the stairs two at a time because no, he did not come all this way to fight and not spend time with his mate. Eris can be a prissy prince elsewhere. His boots are silent as he makes for the doorway, shoving it open with an insult already loaded on his tongue–

He freezes. Everything in his mind, his body, goes still. It’s not the sight of Eris on top of you in the bed that does it. Having two mates, Azriel’s prepared himself for the possibility of having to share you like this, thought about it many times, the lordling’s hands all over your body. It’s Eris that has him screeching to a stop.

The Autumn Prince is shirtless, settled between your legs. But it’s his back that catches Azriel off guard. It’s a massacre of bright pink scars.

Eris’ startled eyes find yours. You can feel the pounding of his heart in your own chest and the terrified look on his face has you wrapping your arms around him protectively. It had taken a lot to even show you the fucked up marks on his back, and even though your love for him is unyielding, he’s still insecure about his scars.

You’re okay, you send through your mental connection with him. It’s a coo of reassurance that you know he doesn’t believe but accepts anyways. His fingers clench the linen sheets so tightly you think they’ll rip, and you filter as much calming warmth and love as you can down the bond to him.

It’s difficult to watch as it plays out. Azriel, a looming figure in the doorway. You observe how his calculated eyes scan Eris’ body, the thick, mottled marks trailing across the expanse of his back from his broad shoulders to his taut waist. Your very intelligent mate figures it out quickly, sending you a questioning look, brows drawn together and golden eyes wide. Should I leave or should I stay?

Your stare answers his question.

Eris burrows his head into the crook of your neck at the sound of Azriel’s first step towards the large bed. The shadowsinger is making it known that he’s moving closer, thick-soled boots ringing like the bell tower as he nears, letting the Autumn heir prepare himself. His breathing is uneven against your throat and his hands are shaking as they find yours to latch onto for comfort.

When Azriel rounds the side of the bed closest to where you and your mate lie, he speaks.

“Eris–”

The male hiding in your neck laughs wetly, interrupting the pitied response he figures is coming from Azriel’s mouth. “You didn’t think fire could burn, did you?”

Azriel swallows harshly, eyes flicking up to find yours again. You send encouraging feelings through the bond to him, to the both of them. It’s no longer time to fight.

“When I thought about having a mate, I never bargained for two, let alone you, godsdamnit,” Azriel ignores Eris’ harsh words. His voice is soft, touch even more so as he tentatively reaches out to caress the melted skin of Eris’ back. It’s ragged, red and pink and his stomach churns at the sight of a perfect handprint. It’s the oldest, by the looks of it, wrapping around his shoulder, marring the freckled skin there. Eris flinches at the brush of Azriel’s fingers upon his tainted skin, and the shadow singer looks like he might pull away, but he presses on and Eris lets him. He lets the Night Court native trace the deformed planes of his back, and you watch Azriel’s eyes clear, realizing just what you’ve been telling him all along. 

“But here we are,” Azriel continues. Eris’ body is stock still beneath his touch and the shadowsinger can feel the tension in his bones but he doesn’t stop, can’t force himself to when he’s just like him. All these years, and no one had ever known the punishments the lordling has had to endure by the fiery hands of his own father. “Arguing like a bunch of children.”

“You started it,” Eris mutters. There’s a strain in his voice and you bite back a smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“I did,” Azriel concedes quietly. He’ll take the blame for this one, because Eris is letting him see something that he never thought he’d have to share with anyone other than you. Fury twists his gut like Helfire because it reminds him so much of his own life. The family that had neglected him, both father and brothers alike, just as Eris has gone through. Maybe that is why the Mother had made you both of their mates, to take care of the males made of smoke and flame and care for them and love them like they deserve. “And I’m finding myself wanting your attention just as much as my mates’.”

His fingers pause as the admission slips from his lips. The room is silent, even the fire that was raging in the hearth when Azriel had walked in has gone quiet, stifled, and not even his shadows move from their hiding spots in the darkness of the room.

“What are you saying?” Eris asks weakly. He refuses to look over his shoulder and meet the gaze of the shadowsinger, eyes the color of the Autumn rye he loves. He’s holding your hand so tightly that it hurts, and you stroke his copper hair soothingly, always his greatest support system.

Azriel’s temper flares. He wants Eris to look at him. To see the absolute honesty in his eyes as he speaks this truth. He catches your gaze instead. The reassurance and adoration pooling them in waves is all he needs to shove that feeling aside and say what desperately needs to be spoken.

“I’m fucking weak for you, Eris Vanserra.”

The admission is enough to rip the copper haired male's head from his hiding place, twisting around to stare at the winged male confessing. “What?”

“You know I can feel your emotions through the bond too, don’t you? I can feel how much you love her, when you’re happy and sad and terrified. You were fucking terrified when I walked through that door, and I can feel it now, right here in my chest,” Azriel points to his heart, face serious. Eris doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s trapped, hovering above you, hanging onto every word that pours from the shadowsingers mouth. 

Azriel continues. “But we’re the same. Have always been, and neither of us realized it. We feel the same, about our mate, about our courts, and not a day goes by where I don’t think about my mate, but also the one she’s mated to. I get that flood of emotions when you walk in a room too, the same ones you get when you see me. Nervousness, that fluttering in your stomach, the way you watch us when we’re together, that yearning for more. I see you, Eris, but can you see me through all that smoke?”

“I–” Eris chokes, unsure of what to say. Here, in front of him, a Night Court male he’s always been enemies with, bares himself, tears his chest wide open for him to view. It makes him swoon a little, and your comforting fingers have stilled, trying not to distract him as he ponders his feelings for the shadowsinger. “I see you too, Azriel.”

You can’t help but watch as Azriel launches himself at Eris, wings pulled tightly into his back so as not to hit you as he tackles the copper haired male to the bed. Eris lets out a gasp that’s smothered by Azriel’s lips on his, a harsh and hot kiss that makes his stomach burn. It takes Eris a moment to catch up, Azriel’s tongue dipping into his mouth to taste. His strong hands are gentle as they slide down his back, exploring, loving. It makes him want to cry.

Their chests heave when they part. Azriel shifts just enough so his body brushes against Eris’ with every breath. Just enough to let the Autumn Court male know that while he has to return to the Night Court for now, he is always with him. There are no cinders without smoke. The tug in Eris’ chest and the gleam in Azriel’s eyes confirm it.

You startle the two of them, beaming down at your mates from the top of the bed. 

“So, no more fighting right?”

[queercontrarian]

Azris Week 2024: Contact

Azriel and Eris are not quite as overt in showing their affection as Azriel's family is. You might not even know it's there... unless you know where to look.

this summary is shit also let's all just pretend i posted this on the right day okay? thank you

@azrisweek

“I’m getting old,” Cassian groans, letting his heavy body drop onto the bench with a crack that doesn’t bode well for the structure of the piece. After all, the birchin is almost as old as Cassian is now. 

“Must be the constant losing because I feel great,” Azriel lies through his teeth as he sits, much more careful than his brother to not damage the old furniture more. He does feel great; winning always feels good, especially when it’s their traditional snowball fight and even more so when it’s his fourth year in a row. Still, he too can feel the years bearing on his bones and joints, especially now that he doesn’t spend nearly as much time training his body as he used to when he was still Spymaster of the Night Court.

“The only reason you can keep up your winning streak is because you don’t have any children to run after,” Rhys complains, stretching his leg out in front of him to gently massage his knee. ”You have no idea what real tiredness is until you’ve chased a nearly eighteen year old across all seven Courts trying to keep him from causing the whole continent to blow up.”

Azriel snorts. “Actually, I do know a thing or two about how that feels.”

“Oh fuck you, I was never that bad,” Rhys replies, but it has no real bite. He leans back and closes his eyes. Azriel shrugs, which Rhys can’t see now but might just feel through some brotherly intuition or simply the fact that they’ve known each other for nearly their entire lives.

“And anyways, it can’t be that hard,��� Azriel adds, “You love your children, that’s why you had them. That’s why you continue to have them.” He shoots a pointed look at Cassian. He and Nesta just welcomed another two children into their home: twins, no more than ten years old, both from the far islands which crown the north of Illyria. That makes for five kids that his friends have adopted so far. Luckily, the House of Wind has enough room for all the youths they invite to join their family, and Nyx and Jasmin both go nearly green with envy since Noura is the only cousin with siblings. That is, until Elain gives birth again, which won’t be for a couple months now.

“True that,” Cassian mumbles, eloquent as ever as he too leans back against the wall. “Why don’t you have children anyway?” 

Azriel just stares at him, trying to decipher what it is his brother is really asking. It's not exactly like having a child is something that could just happen to him and Eris like it did for Rhys and Feyre. He knows of course that Eris will be expected to produce an heir some day, but it’s been barely fifteen years since he became High Lord. They still have time, time to figure out how they will construct this future family of theirs, time to be a family of just two. Azriel isn’t ready to share his husband with another soul yet when he already shares him with an entire Court, but that feels like too earnest of a thing to say here and now. It’s not that he thinks his brothers wouldn’t understand, he just doesn’t want to bring it up yet.

“It’s not like we don’t try,” he says finally with a sideways grin on his face, waiting for Cassian to look at him again. “We try so hard, you know, every night, but it just doesn't seem to be happening for us.” Cassian cackles and then coughs as he breathes in the hot air of the birchin, enriched with a thousand healing herbs - at least that’s what it smells like. 

“I’m sure you do,” he rasps through coughing and Rhysand smirks too, though Azriel doesn’t know if it is at the joke he made or Cassian’s face, which has taken on the color of pickled beetroot. 

“You’d never know,” he says, and Azriel just gives a noncommittal hum.

“Right?” Cassian agrees, his voice still rough though he’s stopped coughing for now. “I mean, you’d never know if you just saw you guys.” 

Azriel frowns. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Just, you know. You don't really act like a couple. I mean, compare that to me and Nesta or Rhys and Feyre; they’re all over each other.” 

Azriel has half the mind to turn his back to them to show them the clear proof that Eris, too, is all over him more often than not, and likes to leave his mark, thank you very much, but that feels childish. The truth is they don’t act like the other couples in the Inner Circle. That doesn’t mean they love each other any less.

“What, just because we don’t fondle each other in the presence of others?” Azriel responds, unable to suppress the slight defensiveness, his inner walls shutting down almost automatically. He knows his brothers mean no harm, but it still feels like a challenge. Eris and him are just much more private people than his brothers and their partners.

“Yeah but there’s private and then there’s whatever you guys have,” Rhys voices his opinion from the bench across the room. Azriel barely has time to admonish him for reading his mind without asking - which is something he promised he wouldn’t do anymore when Azriel became Lord Consort of Autumn, but old habits seem to be hard to break - when Cassian adds, “It’s not like it’s bad or anything. It’s just different from what we’re used to.”

“I suppose,” Azriel says. He’s not trying to spend the limited time he and his brothers have nowadays bickering - even though they are of course dead wrong…

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▪︎

There is no way they will be able to talk to all these people tonight but Eris seems to be hellbent on trying, and if the High Lord is convinced of something it is harder to change his mind than to go along with it. Azriel has always been the type to choose the path of least resistance. Eris's hand is firm on his back as he leads him through the crowd of fae gathered in the throne room. He can feel Eris’s heartbeat, reverberating through their bond. It rarely feels stronger than when they are next to each other.

He’s been standing on the balcony for a while when Eris finally joins him. His wings are practically being baked in the hot sun of the Day Court but it’s still bearable. Better than being inside anyways.

“Taking a break, are we?” Eris says with a smile. Azriel just rolls his eyes.

“Didn’t really want to stick around to watch my family stick their tongues down their partners’ throats,” he grunts, and Eris laughs.

“The topics of conversations have changed quite drastically since this morning,” he admits, and that’s putting it lightly. The official visit that had been scheduled for diplomacy reasons has been derailed entirely. Now it seems more like they were only moments away from an orgy taking over the room.

“Just… stay with me for a little while,” Azriel asks, with more vulnerability in his voice than he would usually allow himself. It’s hot, he’s tired, he feels a little overwhelmed. He shifts slightly to his left so Eris can lean against the railing next to him. Their arms brush against each other and Eris reaches for his hand, locks their fingers together. 

They watch from the sidelines as the courtiers inside bicker and flirt and debate and disappear off into their own little corners away from prying eyes until Helion finally calls them to order (“So unlike him,” Azriel mutters and Eris grins). 

Minutes turn into an hour and the afternoon sun sinks further into a beautiful sunset. Finally Eris separates himself from the railing and makes a step back towards the hall. He turns to look at Azriel, their hands still joined between them.

“Ready to go back in there, Shadowsinger?” 

Azriel raises their hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Eris’s hand.

“Yes.”

▪︎

Azriel never thought listening to two brothers argue could be calming, but with Sasha and Bas bickering on the couch opposite him he feels like he could fall asleep at any moment. Then again maybe it’s not the heated discussion about grain import but the friendly fire that the Lady Vanserra had lit in the family’s private drawing room, the dog snoring at his feet, the sound of the wind outside the stained glass windows. Maybe it’s Eris’s hand, curled at the back of his neck, playing absentmindedly with his hair.

Azriel sighs and leans in closer, Eris’s low chuckle a familiar and comforting melody in his ear.

▪︎

People have slowly been filing out of the great ballroom for the past two hours. Personally, Azriel is elated. He does not mind balls, in fact there are two very good arguments why he should enjoy them a lot more than he does - those arguments being that usually, he gets to see his half of the family, and he gets to see Eris even more dressed up than he is on the day to day. Still, he likely won’t ever get used to being the host, and he is very glad that at least for now it is over. There is only one more breakfast to get through tomorrow before the last of their guests leave and he will only have to share his husband with one Court instead of all seven of them. 

“There you are.” Speak of the devil. “Ready for this to end?” Eris’s smile is slightly lopsided, and the way he holds his shoulders betrays his exhaustion, but he looks happy and it instantly lifts Azriel’s mood as well. When he turns to fully face his husband he can’t help but reach out to smooth down the spangles on his coat, which still looks practically impeccable. He knows it would bother Eris though, if he noticed it. 

The male places his hand over Azriel’s own and pulls him closer by his arm until they are standing only a few inches apart. 

“Dance with me,” Eris says, the look in his eyes so earnest that it feels impossible to deny him anything.

“Here?” Azriel asks weakly, his resolve already crumbling before he can even try to say no.

“Yes. Here, now.” 

“Alright.” 

There’s barely anyone in the hall now anyway, and even if there were a thousand guests still around them it wouldn’t matter; all Azriel can see is Eris.

▪︎

Azriel feels like they've been sitting here for hours, listening to Helion drone on and on about regulations in the creation of new subsections of the principal disciplines of magic. Eris at least manages to pretend to show interest, but Azriel is pretty sure that it's very evident on his face that he wants nothing more than to take another break from this meeting, or better yet, leave it be for today and return back to their room. 

He is distracted again when Eris moves his hand to rest between them on the narrow wooden armrest of his throne. He watches, mesmerized by the way his husband's many rings glint in the sunlight as he begins tapping his fingers against the armrest.

Tap tap tap. A signal?

Azriel glances up at Eris, who is still following the debate that has now started between Helion and Kallias, but his expression is a bit too fixed to be natural.

Tap tap, Eris's pointer finger sounds softly against the wood. Slowly, Azriel places his own hand next to Eris's, eyes tracking every movement his husband makes, watching as his mate extends his pinky finger until it rests against Azriel's own scarred hands. Slowly, so slowly, their fingers entwine, Eris’s rings scraping against his skin. When Azriel looks up, Eris is still staring straight ahead, a slight smile on his lips.

▪︎

The House of Wind is as crowded as ever on Starfall, but Azriel can barely hear his family cheering for the spirits as they travel across the sky, nor can he hear the music or the noise of the party. He’s too wrapped up in his mate, standing as close to him as he possibly can to take in his warmth, his scent, his quiet words even as the world around them seems to get only louder.

Under the light of a thousand stars, of spirits and candles and magic sparks Azriel leans in closer to wrap his arms around his mate just as Eris turns to kiss him.

Eris doesn’t say a word when Azriel slumps onto the couch next to him. He only moves his leg a little so he can fit comfortably, shifting his book from one hand to the other. Azriel sighs, his head rolling back as his muscles slowly relax from the long day. Eris’s thigh is leaned against his, with no pressure but a warm, comforting presence that makes him melt deeper into the couch. 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The trip from Night to Autumn is an arduous one, even more taxing in the winter months when it's cold and wet and generally unpleasant to be flying in the Solar Courts. He wants nothing more now than to simply curl up here with Eris, not talking, not moving, just listening to the rain patter outside their window, the fire crackling and the sound of Eris’s breathing. He sighs, his shoulders slowly relaxing as he lets the day pass by again in memory, from the early morning snowball fight to Solstice dinner, which had dragged on forever. He loves and misses his family, even more so now that they live so far apart, but his longing for Eris, for home, always wins out. 

Azriel stretches his tired body out across the whole sofa with a sigh, feet hanging off one end as he reaches for one of the pillows to rest his head in Eris’s lap. Eris helps him maneuver his wings into a more comfortable position and Azriel can hardly hide his groan of relief when all the weight is finally taken off of his back and he can feel fully at ease. Eris’s fingers get tangled in his hair as he starts to gently massage the back of his neck and his head with one hand and Azriel can feel his mate’s pulse against his ear, on his lips, across the bond, like the steady beat of his own heart.

“How was your trip?” Eris asks finally, though he still doesn’t look up from his book. 

I’m getting old, Azriel thinks, I missed you. They are so wrong about us.

“I love you.”

Eris smiles.

[erisweekofficial]

Tonight we're delighted to highlight @jules-writes-stories 🧡

If you're looking for a truly exceptional Azris fic, you have to check out Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows. The writing is absolutely beautiful, and it strikes the perfect balance between hurt and comfort. Every detail feels so carefully crafted, from the portrayal of Eris and Azriel to each moment they share. 😭

Also if you are into myth retellings, we are begging you to read this Azris flavored Hades and Persephone retelling that she wrote for Azris week this year. 👀

And be sure to check out allll the fics on her masterlist!

Read on to learn what drew Jules to Eris and what the hounds would say if given buttons. 🐶

Give us a name for one of Eris's brothers!

Sylvan Vanserra is the youngest Vanserra (other than Lucien). He’s quick to laugh, never takes himself too seriously, and readers have called him a cinnamon roll, which is fair. Eris tried to shelter him and Lucien, so he’s less guarded than the other brothers, but don’t sleep on Syl. He definitely has fire in his blood.

Give us a name of his hounds!

Chunky Possum. But let me explain, lol. When I was drafting Just Enough Light, I named Eris’s hounds after (just a few) of my favorite Azris writers. They were meant to be place markers while I thought of original names. But the hounds liked their names, so I left them, and gave some of them back stories. Naming the hounds became a way to show my appreciation for a corner of the fandom that is dear to me. My favorite is Chunky, only because of his backstory. And yes, it will tug at your heartstrings. 

What do you think it was like trying to raise Eris when he was a child? 

Short answer: he was a little fire starter with a smart mouth. Being so brilliant, the fireling likely found ways around doing what he was told and bent the rules to suit his needs. Eris asked questions that stumped his teachers (sometimes on purpose and other times because he was clever and curious). He was full of mischief and a prankster. That said, he was probably under constant pressure to perform, making him highly competitive. I could see little Eris as being lonely, learning at a young age that attachments are liabilities and love must be earned through accolades. 

What drew you to Eris? 

I love monsters and for me, Eris Vanserra is one of the metaphorical monsters of this fandom. He’s both a scapegoat and a martyr. He’s sexy and fetishized: put on a pedestal as often as he's reviled and burned at the stake. I love how Eris can possess all these contradictions and still exist as a character with traits we all universally recognize. He’s interesting and I’m always left wanting to know more. 

Who do you think Eris would want in his inner circle, if he was given a chance to build one?

Lucien. His favorite brother is a clever fox with ties all over Prythian and I want (need) them to be close with an urgency that’s not normal. Nesta Archeron. Eris is canonically drawn to her power and who wouldn’t want Lady Death to have their back? Bonus for Eris: it would piss Cassian off. Lastly, nothing would bring Eris more joy than stealing Azriel from Rhys...for so many reasons. 

If Eris gave his dogs buttons to communicate, what would their options be?

If one wants Eris’s respect, they’ll have to earn it. And one way to do this is through his hounds because they are excellent judges of character. Eris believes that his smokehounds are likely more intelligent than most of the brutes he’s forced to associate with. No, he prefers not to give names– very demure, very mindful.  After meeting someone, the magical canines communicate their first impressions of said individual by pawing at certain buttons with ratings spanning from “burn them alive” to “lukewarm, might burn later” to  “that’s your cauldron blessed mate.” I wonder what the hounds would say about us… 

[jules-writes-stories]

Anon was very callous about it but you do write Mithras as a stereotypical twink and have him bottom exclusively; you gave Eris a lot of the same qualities as him (feminine, thin, smaller than his partner, flamboyant) and I think that is probably what throws some people like anon off. Not saying it doesn't work in the story because it does, it's well written, but Azriel doesn't have any submissive traits about him so I think people find it hard to believe he might fit into a submissive role.

Anon,

Long reply ahead: I’ll try and address everything you mention!

1. I never want to imply that Eris is physically weaker than Azriel. He’s not. In the very first scene they’re together, I say he and Az are close in height. Az is slightly taller and Eris is leaner in build.

Eris is a war general and warrior. I try to make that clear multiple times in the story. The story has not offered a chance to show Eris in his role as a warrior/general yet, but there are scenes where he spars with Sylvan and Lucien and he owns the Autumn Council in Chapter 2.

I’m not sure I would describe my Eris as outright flamboyant… (I think Mithras more so, but some of that is affect).

But I want readers to picture Eris how they want, so if flamboyant and femme works, go for it! I definitely say he favors the LoA in looks (a plot device, but I can see how it may be interpreted.)

He is not a bear, and he’s bratty, he’s pretty to look at (all Vanserra boys are imo), and he kikis with Fidel, always serves a look, so Ok. I can see what you’re saying. Bottom line: there’s a lot left to interpretation. And that is intentional. Some of it is vibes and just what the character told me while writing him. I am ok with people reading him as a Twink (although I would warn against reducing him to solely that— he is much more). But I also think I’ve left it open enough that readers are not forced to see him as that, because the term Twink sort of implies he’s just one thing?

2. I can also see how easy it is to equate Mithras x Sylvan’s ship with Azris, since (without giving much away) there are parallels. But a quick reminder: Azriel and Eris have known of each other for 5 centuries and their mating bond snapped (in JEL) at the HL meeting.

Mithras x Syl have known each other for significantly less time. They care for each other and there’s chemistry/potential— I love them—but as of now, they’re not mates. So their sexual relationship is new. They haven’t explored or had the opportunity to grow.

3. One of the reasons I bring up this difference: I have Eris top Az in the last chapter because I want to express that Azris (through their bond, love/shared trauma) have an innate understanding of what the other needs in moments of crisis.

Chapter 12– the Velaris Chapter—Eris is overwhelmed and struggling. Azriel takes him to Velaris and Eris “lets go” emotionally, (musically lol), sexually— and Azriel is there to “catch” him, right?

Chapter 18—after Azriel’s torture scene—there’s a role reversal. It’s not about one character having power over the other— It’s about a character who struggles with vulnerability letting go and knowing his mate will catch him/carry him home (metaphorically).

So even if Eris is a twink (non-comittal because I want readers to have their own views and want to avoid being reductive) I don’t think it precludes him from topping, particularly in the loving/nurturing way he does this for Az, when he realizes it’s what his bat needs. It’s more about Azriel being vulnerable rather than submissive? A relinquishing of control, versus a giving away power.

TLDR: it’s not really about penetration. It’s more about giving each other the chance to be vulnerable, to trust, be cared for and to let go.

Real life example: Troye Sivan is a self described Twink who also identifies as a Vers…

I hope I made sense in this very long reply!

[unanswered-stars]

Thank you so much for tagging me @jules-writes-stories @highlordofkrypton @achaotichuman

1. How many works do you have on AO3? I'm a but a wee babe in the ao3 world so just 7 but I have several WIP's that are on pause currently. I had originally had a fic planned for each day of Eris week but haven't been able to write in awhile so might be some time before those are published but once I start posting again you can expect Eris chaos to reign.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 36,487 I struggle to write long chapters and most of my works end up being around 2,500.

3. What fandoms do you write for? A Court of Thorns and Roses

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Shadows of Regret and Redemption| Azris - My first published work. A oneshot that grew legs and started to run. I am not completely happy with it thus far but I have the end plotted and I'm excited to eventually bring that to life.

Daughter of Autumn | Azris - Now this one absolutely shocked me with its popularity. Started as a fun little drabble for Gwyn Week 2024 and of course turned into Azris central.

The Beginning and End of Friendship | Azris - So many people screaming in the comments at me on this one. More screaming to come when I post part two I’m sure.

Two Souls Entangled| Azris - A tiny part of my soul via a short poem for Azris Week 2024.

Heaven Help the Fool Who Falls In Love: The End | Azris - This is the first piece I wrote for fanfiction and it is my precious baby. Only one chapter posted but I have several in need of editing before I publish the remainder. It's very heavy and I haven't had the mental space to read through it again.

5. Do you respond to comments? Every single one! They bring me so much joy. I have currently stayed away from my comment section for my own mental health but when I start posting again I will get back to everyone's comments, promise.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? All of my works are fairly heavy on the angst. TBaEoF comes to mind but I think for published works I’ll go with The Ending of Darkness which is a short little piece about @jules-writes-stories OC Mithras x Sylvan which I have a part 2 almost completed which is equally as angsty (sorry). Unpublished works definitely The Burning of Leaves and The Death of Shadows which are two fics I had planned for Eris week but are currently on pause (poor Eris I was really putting him through the wringer for Eris Week).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Daughter of Autumn. Mostly because Cassian has the closing line and he just always says the darndest things.

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have not, nor do I plan on it. Please don’t hate me 😅 Just not my writing jam. I love finding unique ways to explore a relationship and conveying those same emotions and feelings without the smut. That being said some of my favourite stories and authors use smut as such a wonderful exploratory storytelling device and it is delightful. I love reading others contributions to the smutsphere. So so many talented writers out there giving us all our smuttiest dreams. I truly do not think that my smut contribution is even necessary when you have things like To Become a Vanssera by @acourtofladydeath and Why Not Me by @thomasisaslut both absolutely rife with smut and use it beautifully to convey their story (albiet in very different ways).

9. Do you write crossovers? Not yet, and probably not ever because I can hardly keep up with writing ideas I have for one fandom.

10. Have you ever had a fic translated? No.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but it sounds delightful.

12. What is your all-time favorite ship? Azris most definitely for writing. I definitely have a big soft spot for Samwise and Rosie from LOTR (my husband is Samwise reincarnated and I am irrevocably in love with him). I have a WIP for Thesan and his lover and that dynamic and storyline has been so incredibly fun to explore as well.

13. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I started writing a Tarquin UTM oneshot that is incomplete and while I am still in love with the story I really struggled with writing the voice of Tarquin. This one will only ever get finished if I can finally figure out the right tone for this man’s internal dialogues.

14. What are your writing strengths? I have been told my writing reads like poetry which is one of the biggest compliments you could ever give me. I also love writing parallels but there’s definitely a lot of room for improvement there.

15. What are your writing weaknesses?  Editing haha. But actually, I find that my characters voices don’t feel very distinct and that there is a lot of overlap in the way they speak and think and it can be hard to distinguish who’s talking/thinking. I feel like my characters resemble a cookie cutter suburban neighborhood where the walls and trim might be a different colour but they’re all built exactly the same. If anyone has some tips please feel free to comment or message me!

16. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I absolutely love reading it but unfortunately the only other language I know isn’t really a language at all. Pidgin, which is basically just native slang. I was playing around with it in my Tarquin fic a bit but seemed a tad too niche.

17. First fandom you wrote for? LOTR in middle school. I have a printed multi chapter booklet that is a rewrite of Sam and Frodo’s journey through Mordor that I made for my English class one year.

18. Favorite fic you’ve written? My favourite multi chapter by another author is undoubtedly A Court of Shadows and Ashes by @futurehunt Mother Save Us From Your Twisted fate by @chunkypossum which got a stunning part 2 for Eris Week this year! My favorite of my own published works is either HHtFWFiL:TE or The Ending of Darkness. Of my unpublished works honesty The Burning of Leave or The Death of Shadows are both strong contenders. For non Azris I have a Beron fic WIP for @sjmvillainweek day 1 that will probably get prioritized over the other two.

No pressure tags (and sorry if you've already been tagged): @the-darkestminds @born-to-riot @chairofchaos @thomasisaslut @chunkypossum @acourtofladydeath @shadowsandlint

[ysmtttty]

Red Ferrari

Chapter 10

Summary: Azris AU, where Azriel is a mechanic and has his own service station. One day, Eris comes there because something is wrong with his car

AO3 link Chapter 9 Chapter 11

Flipping through the emails in his phone, Eris waited for Azriel to return with their ordered coffee, which the courier should have brought, judging by his GPS in the delivery app.

Surprisingly, Morrigan still hadn't contacted him, maybe she was still searching for a new lawyer. Eris wasn't sure, but he suspected that most people were now cautious about becoming her attorney, since dealing with her had proven to be a doomed endeavor, and many had come to realize this even more.

Now that he and Azriel had seemingly cleared everything up and he had earned forgiveness, the realization of the problem with Keir hit him hard. According to the terms, Eris had to ensure that his father would agree to support whatever conditions were part of their deal, the details of which he hadn't been allowed to fully grasp over the years.

There were many problems with this, but the main one was that he really didn’t want to deal with Beron, especially over someone like Keir with his threats. Eris would have loved to tell both of them to go to hell and leave the country. Maybe start over somewhere where they wouldn't find him. But his loved ones were still here, and Beron definitely wouldn’t hesitate to threaten him through his mother. Keir, even more so.

And yet, he would have to call his father, maybe even persuade him. Eris hated such situations, always trying to avoid them entirely. A couple of times, Beron had been threatened through him, and it had turned out very badly for those daring idiots. However, something told Eris that this time it wouldn’t be so simple.

Why the hell did Beron even agree to this wedding scheme, which hardly promised him much profit?

Eris stared at the phone screen for a long time, his finger hovering over the call button. He didn’t want to hear that voice, didn’t want to let Beron know he needed his help—even if calling it help was a stretch considering that without dear old dad, Eris wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place—and he absolutely didn’t want Beron to know that Keir had threatened his life. Again—nothing good could come from that other than a bloody mess.

Still, he treated this conversation like ripping off a band-aid—the faster, the better.

One ring, two, five. Maybe he shouldn’t have called in the morning. Who knows, the old bastard might’ve decided to sleep in, after all, given his age…

"Eris?" came a gruff voice. Eris just gripped the phone tighter, reminding himself that his father was hundreds of kilometers away.

"Father," he greeted as politely as possible. "I'm calling about business."

Beron might have been disappointed in him if he had called just to ask how things were going.

"Speak," Beron said, getting straight to the point.

"Keir wants to be sure that you will uphold your end of the deal after my divorce from Morrigan," Eris explained bluntly, lacking the strength or desire to play mind games or figure out how to word it more softly or advantageously. This was also the first time he had confidently informed his father that he would definitely be getting a divorce. The divorce was now a fact.

"And what am I supposed to do with the information about his desires?"

Eris rolled his eyes. Of course, why make life easier with a simple “okay, son, I got it,” when he could continue acting like a self-proclaimed jerk.

"Confirm that you’re in."

"And why do you think I’m in?" A pause, during which Eris reminded himself that he had bought this phone two weeks ago and throwing it against the wall now would be stupid. Especially considering what happened the last time he went a whole day without a phone. "What did Keir do?"

"He kindly delivered that message," Eris replied sarcastically.

"Eris," Beron’s voice carried a warning. Eris thanked all the gods that this man wasn’t in the same room with him right now, because otherwise, this would have been unbearable. "I’ll get in touch with him."

And he hung up.

Eris still didn’t know if he felt relief or irritation, but at least it was something. At least now he didn’t have to worry about getting killed somewhere in an alley or, again, in his own parking lot.

He wondered where Azriel was with the coffee. Reluctantly, he got up from the bed, put on some lounge pants, and went to look for his mechanic.

"Finally!" a voice greeted him, belonging to someone who wasn’t Azriel at all. "You really do look terrible."

Eris glanced at Lucien, who was lounging on his couch with a cup of coffee that suspiciously resembled the one they had ordered from the nearby café.

"What are you doing here?" Eris asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You didn’t know he was coming?" Azriel asked, leaning against the wall. Eris looked at him and raised a questioning eyebrow when he saw that Azriel was wearing his robe. Not that he minded. "I grabbed the first thing I saw when he came in," Azriel nodded toward Lucien.

"I wish I could unsee that," Eris’s younger brother shook his head.

"A question for both of you," Eris looked at his brother, "what the hell are you doing here?" then at Azriel, "and why did you open the door without putting anything on?"

Azriel shrugged. "I was going to throw on a robe, but I didn’t have time before he opened the door—he had keys."

"It doesn’t matter," Lucien interrupted. "I wanted to say that you’re coming with me and Jurian to your house in the countryside. And I suspect it’s a brotherly bond that made me feel so strongly that you’d been beaten up here."

"I’m fine, thanks for the concern. Why do you have my coffee, and why are you making decisions about my country house?"

"Because I conveniently ran into your courier, who asked me to unlock the elevator for him, and when I found out the floor, I said I’d deliver it myself," Lucien shamelessly drank one of the coffees. Azriel held out the other to Eris in silence, who gratefully took it, took a few sips, and handed it back. "Nice that you two made up, very happy for you. But this wasn’t how I wanted to find out about it."

"Knock next time," Azriel advised.

"Put on some pants next time," Lucien retorted.

"The house, Lucien," Eris reminded him of his earlier question.

"You clearly needed to relax. I thought I’d turn this into a bachelor party to cheer you up and distract you from... well, now it doesn’t matter," he glanced at Azriel, who was watching all of this with barely concealed amusement. "But now I can tell Jurian that he can bring Vassa, and I’ll bring Elain, because, Azriel, wouldn’t you like to join us for a weekend in the countryside? Alcohol and food on my generous brother."

"Go to hell," said Eris.

"How convenient that I have no weekend plans," Azriel smiled. Eris shot him a withering look.

"Great," Lucien clapped his hands and stood up. "I’d stay and ask you about this," he circled his finger around Eris’s face, "but I won’t linger here any longer."

"Disappear before I demand the keys back," Eris shook his head.

"I’ll send the details later!" Lucien shouted as he quickly exited the apartment.

As soon as the door closed, Azriel burst out laughing. Eris groaned, clearly not thrilled with his younger brother’s sudden visit.

"You have a house in the countryside?" Azriel asked.

"Yeah, and at least five apartments around the city that I don’t use," Eris waved it off, heading to the kitchen to brew some tea. Damn, he forgot to buy coffee beans for the machine a few days ago. "Didn’t think you were a nature fan."

"I was kindly invited," Azriel smiled, approaching him from behind and hugging his waist, his nose buried in Eris’s neck as Eris tried to make tea. "Besides, your younger brother is funny. But how did you end up in his circle of friends? You seem like you’re from different age groups."

"Mutual acquaintances," Eris sighed, enjoying the small kisses Azriel left on his skin. "Jurian was initially my client, back when I was just starting out, and few people trusted me with their business. He trusted me. He hired me as his lawyer for several years, and very often, so we somehow became friends. And he is dating Vassa, Lucien’s friend and his girlfriend’s."

He turned around and kissed Azriel on the lips, who ran his hands over Eris’s chest with the same almost irritating caution as yesterday. Eris couldn’t get upset because normal people don’t usually get mad at their partner for caring about them.

"I forgot to ask yesterday, are we dating?" Eris asked.

"Yes, we’re dating," Azriel nodded and kissed him again.

Azriel left closer to noon after Eris received the fifth message in the tenants' chat about the concern over a smashed Volvo being left in their parking lot.

The rest of the day Eris spent working, wanting to finish everything in advance so he wouldn’t be distracted tomorrow, since they were apparently going with Lucien and his squad of friends. It was strange. But not the strangest thing happening in his life right now, so he could turn a blind eye and think, "shit happens."

A couple of document filings, a trip to the office to sign some papers, and waving off questions about the bruises. Eris expertly lied, saying he had taken up boxing in his spare time to relieve stress. No one suspected a lie since many people in his position did the same.

After what happened yesterday, Eris was twice as cautious in his movements. He constantly looked around, but the feeling of being watched had vanished. Eris now trusted his intuition twice as much, but since no danger was felt—or possibly it seemed like it because of his overwhelming exhaustion from all this chaos—he decided to allow himself to relax a little.

It might have been ideal to spend some time away from the city. It wouldn't provide a miracle of salvation, but it would allow him to mentally exhale and regain strength. Far from the bustle, stress, and divorce.

His lawyer wrote to him saying he had sent Morrigan another copy of the property division agreement. Eris replied that she wasn't in a position to represent herself at the moment and asked him to focus on more pressing matters, not wanting to waste one of his firm's best employees on this nightmare.

By the evening, Lucien sent him a picture from the store with a full cart of food, drinks, bags of charcoal, and more, with the price for all this luxury added below. He also mentioned that he and his friends had chipped in, and Eris just needed to pay for his share.

Knowing these idiots, Eris didn’t need to be a genius to realize they probably hadn’t even paid for half of it. Nonetheless, he sent the money. Better now for them than later regretting it being spent on Morrigan’s designer clothes if she takes what she wanted.

His father hadn’t reached out again. It both scared and relieved him at the same time. Eris wasn’t sure yet whether he wanted to hear "you can rest easy, Keir won’t bother you" because, on the one hand, he wanted it to be true, but on the other, it might mean Keir was lying in a ditch somewhere.

Late in the evening, Eris returned to his empty apartment, loosened his tie, and sighed heavily. These had been crazy days, and his body still ached from all the bruises, while fatigue continued to weigh him down. He only had enough energy to drink some coffee—thankfully, he had finally found the time to buy it at the store—and pass out because caffeine had somehow stopped keeping him awake. The problem might have been the non-stop hours of work, but Eris refused to believe that. It hadn't been such a big issue before, so why should it be now?

The next morning, his younger brother and friends, along with Azriel, burst into his apartment. Why the hell they all gathered this early and at his place was unclear. Eris seriously considered taking Lucien's keys because he preferred to start his morning with coffee, not a meeting with a bunch of students and Jurian. He had no complaints about Azriel’s presence.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Jurian said, and despite Eris’s protests, gave him a tight hug. Eris wrinkled his nose, pretending not to enjoy the moment at all, while Azriel silently laughed at him from the hallway.

They were all dressed similarly today—sweatpants, hoodies, and jackets. Azriel in a leather jacket was a sight for sore eyes, and Eris wished they were alone so he could say that out loud.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” Eris awkwardly patted Jurian’s back, and only then did he let go, smiling cheerfully.

“Lucien said you got into a fight. Didn’t think you could even do that. Back in the day, you should’ve at least hired people to take revenge,” Jurian noted, eyeing his bruises as if he had studied medicine enough to make any conclusions. Jurian had dropped out of medical school after the first year, so his medical knowledge was about the same as the average person’s—close to zero. Eris just waved him off, along with the very valid comment about hiring people.

“No questions about my face,” Eris shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Clearly,” Vassa remarked sarcastically. Eris just rolled his eyes and ignored her.

He and Vassa were on friendly terms. Every time Jurian invited him out for a drink, it ended with him calling her to pick Jurian up. In the early years, they were all still very young—Eris had just graduated, and Jurian had three citizenships and two restraining orders, which later required legal services. In celebration, he’d always bring out Cuban cigars—genuinely brought from Cuba—and order expensive drinks, back when Eris didn’t know he’d be the one paying at the end of the night.

In short, they had a wild youth, which Vassa didn’t like. Of course, over time she got used to Eris and realized that since he and Jurian were such good friends, she’d have to put up with him. A couple of years ago, Eris didn’t make that task easier for her, continuing to be an arrogant bastard and treating everyone outside his close circle like dirt—or so it seemed to most. Eris himself thought he didn’t treat people that way, and never had—he simply didn’t care enough to treat anyone poorly. Vassa strongly disagreed.

“Get out of the apartment,” Eris gestured, waving them towards the door. Lucien rolled his eyes and muttered about how Eris wasn’t a morning person, but he took his girlfriend by the arm and led her into the hallway. Jurian slowly followed with Vassa.

Azriel stayed behind, closing the door after them and smirking.

“Nice jacket,” Eris noted, running his hand up Azriel’s arm to his shoulder.

“You look good too. Sometimes I forget you own anything besides your suffocating suits and dozens of ties,” Azriel remarked sarcastically.

“It’s called style, but I doubt someone who wears dirty overalls and tank tops could understand.”

For that comment, he earned a quiet laugh and an eye roll.

“Are you still sure you want to go?” Eris asked, looking at him with exaggerated exhaustion. “We can still ditch them and stay here together.”

“Jurian and Lucien have been bragging the whole time about how great they are at grilling meat, and forgive me, but I’d sell my soul for good meat,” Azriel smiled so simply that it made Eris want to scream. Why did someone like him have to fall into his life?

“I can order the best restaurant steak if it’ll make you ditch these idiots and stay here with me,” Eris said, stepping closer. Azriel kissed him quickly, still smiling.

“And they also mentioned you have dogs, and I’d love to see them too.”

“Did they tell you that Jurian will be telling pirate-style stories? Or that those two lovebirds will be playing guitars and singing serenades? Or about the swarms of mosquitoes? Those are serious oversights,” Eris shook his head, but Azriel just laughed.

“I have experience enduring serenades, trust me,” he replied, kissing Eris again. Eris returned the kiss, burying his hand in Azriel’s hair and pulling him closer. “The rest is tolerable. Let’s go. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about this group in a few minutes, it’s that they’re impatient.”

Eris groaned internally but quickly grabbed what he needed and followed Azriel. They opened the door just as Jurian raised his fist, ready to bang on it. Giving him a judgmental look, Eris led them to the parking lot.

As it turned out, Azriel had come in his car, and since they couldn’t all fit into one, Eris and he drove together while the other four rode in Vassa’s car. It was quite a long drive, as it was an isolated spot far from the city.

“I still think they won’t be offended if we turn around without warning,” Eris muttered, watching Vassa’s car overtake them, speeding ahead over the bumps.

“I don’t think you’re that against it,” Azriel laughed. “You’re just being dramatic. Besides, your younger brother is right—you need to unwind. As do I.”

The rest of the way, they drove with the radio on and didn’t talk much. Azriel hummed along to the songs, while Eris, like the lovesick idiot he was, listened intently, pretending not to pay attention, though he very much did.

When they arrived, Azriel’s eyes widened in disbelief. They were greeted by a huge three-story house with a tall fence and grounds at least three times the size of any other house around.

“You know, when I heard ‘country house,’ I was expecting, well, you know, a little cottage, something between a house and a shack. But definitely not this.”

Eris just laughed as he got out of the car to open the massive gates and let Azriel drive in and park. Loud barking, Jurian’s swearing, and female laughter immediately reached them.

As soon as Azriel got out of the car and heard it, he frowned a little and followed Eris. When they reached the source of the sound, they saw Jurian surrounded by six dogs, barking actively at him. But the moment they sensed Eris and heard his whistle, their attention shifted, and the whole pack ran toward him.

The aggressive barking turned into a happy one as several dogs stood on their hind legs, jumping on him and wagging their tails. Azriel watched all this with fascination and pleasant surprise because seeing Eris like this was rare. Sure, he made him laugh sometimes, definitely made him smile, but this joy on his face was something special. Different and utterly unique.

One of the dogs did eventually notice Azriel, and he saw how Lucien tensed up, already taking a few steps toward him, clearly intending to intervene if the dog turned aggressive toward the stranger. However, the dog simply leaned its front paws on Azriel’s torso and gave a happy bark. Azriel stroked the furry head and smirked as he looked up at the shocked faces of everyone around. Even Eris seemed surprised.

"Unbelievable!" Jurian exclaimed indignantly. "I’ve been coming here for years, bringing them the best food, and they still hate me. But he shows up, and they’re practically kissing him—" At that moment, the dog licked Azriel’s face, causing him to grimace and laugh. "Yep, even kissing him! This is just absurd!"

Jurian continued ranting about the unfairness of the world, while Azriel petted the friendly, large dog. Soon, other furry friends joined him.

“I’m starting to feel a bit jealous,” Eris quietly remarked, so only Azriel could hear.

“Of whom exactly?” Azriel asked with a grin, looking up at Eris while the dogs happily swarmed him. “Me or them?”

“Take a guess,” Eris grumbled. “Astra, come here,” he called one of the dogs, and although she seemed reluctant to leave Azriel’s side, she eventually went to him. Eris petted her, scratching behind her ear, which made her tail wag even more energetically. “My most unfriendly hound,” he said. “Once bit Jurian so badly he had to go to the hospital for stitches. I’ve never seen her be this nice to a stranger.”

Azriel realized Astra was the first dog that had taken an interest in him. Eris’s words puzzled him a bit, but also filled him with a sense of pride and satisfaction.

“Good girl,” Eris praised Astra as she followed one of his commands. He whistled, and the other dogs also left Azriel alone, giving him some peace.

“Who takes care of them while you’re in the city?” Azriel asked as they walked toward the kennel, with the dogs obediently following Eris.

“I have people for that,” Eris shrugged. “They’ve been looking after my dogs since I was a kid, so I pay them to keep doing it now. I don’t get to come here often, so they live in the guest house on the property. Of course, we always let them know if we’re coming, and they usually leave for that time.”

“Isn’t it sad to leave them for so long?”

“It’s not like I’m crying without them,” Eris scoffed, though when he turned to look at his loyal companions, something soft flickered in his gaze. “But I used to be here more often. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll quit and move here for good.”

Azriel couldn’t help but imagine it. He and Eris in this country house—Azriel tinkering with his motorcycle in the garage for the thousandth time, while Eris wandered around the property grumbling about the dogs trampling the flowerbeds, only to later pretend he didn’t enjoy playing with them.

Damn. That was too far, too reckless to imagine their future like that. If they weren’t already outside, Azriel would’ve needed to step out for some fresh air.

“You okay?” Eris asked, apparently noticing the change in his expression. “I hope you’re not allergic to dogs to the point where you’ll die, because the hospital’s far, and I’d rather not have to bury a body in the backyard.”

“How sweet of you to think of me,” Azriel replied sarcastically. “How often do you bury bodies back there?”

“More often than I’d like,” Eris smirked, playing along.

Astra barked happily again, nuzzling her nose into Azriel’s palm.

“Someone’s being extra affectionate today,” Eris noted.

“You really are jealous,” Azriel teased. Eris only rolled his eyes and shook his head.

While they were playing with the dogs, the others moved the groceries from the car into the house. Elain and Vassa busied themselves in the kitchen, preparing salads and snacks, while Lucien and Jurian rummaged through the garage, looking for the grill and dragging it outside.

Azriel, in the meantime, tried to remember the names of the hounds and learn to tell them apart.

“I swear, these three are identical,” he muttered. While some of the dogs were distinguishable by unique spots on their fur or ear shapes, three hounds looked absolutely identical.

“You’ll learn to tell them apart by their behavior,” Eris calmly responded, petting one of the identical hounds.

“How did you choose their names?” Azriel asked out of curiosity, tossing a ball he found on the property for the dogs to chase. “Astra, Ember, Lyra, those make sense. But Stormbringer?”

“I was fourteen,” Eris shrugged. “He’s the oldest of them all—I named the others when I was a bit older. But back then, I wanted a dramatic, cool name. And look at this rascal,” a soft smile touched his lips as he scratched behind the ear of the coal-black hound. “He’s totally a Stormbringer.”

Azriel chuckled, reaching out to scratch Stormbringer’s ears as well. The dog leaned into his touch, eyes closing in contentment. “I guess he does look like a Stormbringer,” Azriel admitted, watching the hound’s calm demeanor.

Eris gave a soft laugh, almost nostalgic. “He was a bit of a terror when he was younger. Used to chew up anything he could find—furniture, shoes, you name it. But he’s mellowed out a lot. Still, the name stuck.”

“Was he your first dog?”

“No, there were others,” Eris replied quietly. “I’ve had dogs for as long as I can remember. Originally, they belonged to my mother, but once she noticed how much I loved them, we somehow convinced my father to keep them all. Growing up with them… it was hard to lose them.”

Azriel placed a hand on his shoulder, then moved it to his cheek. Eris leaned into the touch.

“Sorry, this was supposed to be a lighthearted conversation, no depressing stuff,” Eris muttered, closing his eyes as if mentally scolding himself for the somber turn.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Azriel said softly.

“At some point, the hounds were the only ones around,” Eris glanced at the dogs playing on the lawn, chasing the ball and trying to steal it from one another. “So it hit harder when they were gone.”

Azriel didn’t press further, and Eris didn’t continue, instead grabbing Azriel’s hand and kissing his knuckles.

Later, they helped Elain and Vassa carry the food outside, setting the table in one of the three gazebos scattered around the yard. Lucien and Jurian were still standing by the grill, now handling the meat and arguing about whether to add more coals or leave them as they were, in fear of burning everything.

Eris’s hounds ran around Jurian, barking at him, and Azriel suspected they just enjoyed scaring him. They seemed to do it with some kind of amusement, and Eris watched with the same amusement, making no move to call them off, allowing the dogs to torment Jurian to the brink of a nervous breakdown.

“They’re going to bite him,” Vassa shook her head. Elain watched the dogs curiously—Eris’s hounds never seemed to bother her either. But Eris had simply remarked that Elain was like a Disney princess, with a magical connection to animals, which is why they left her alone. Lucien had long complained that dogs hadn’t accepted even him right away but once they saw Elain, they all suddenly became so cuddly and soft.

“Only if he deserves it,” Eris replied, turning away from Jurian to glance at his phone. A few emails still awaited his response.

“You know they don’t need a reason,” Vassa continued.

“They need a reason. So, if Jurian wants to keep his limbs intact, he’ll just avoid teasing them like last time,” Eris grinned sarcastically. Azriel suppressed a laugh.

He watched the exchange with a faint smile on his face, noting how the dynamic between them all seemed so easy and natural. It was a rare sight to see Eris so relaxed, even playful, as he teased Vassa and kept a watchful eye on his dogs. The whole scene felt almost like a family gathering, where everyone had their roles to play, even if some involved scaring poor Jurian half to death.

"Eris, please," Vassa said with a playful reproach, though a hint of concern crept into her voice. Meanwhile Elain arranged vegetables on plates, occasionally glancing toward the guys as if to make sure the dogs weren’t bothering Lucien.

“It’s fine,” Eris said, not looking up from his phone, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s weird for him to be scared of dogs at his age. He’s a big boy; he’ll manage. Until there’s another fire, I’m not calling the dogs off.”

“Another fire?” Azriel asked with curiosity and amusement. Elain giggled in response.

“It’s almost a yearly tradition,” she explained. “Don’t tell them, but we keep track of how often it’s Lucien’s fault versus Jurian’s.”

“Don’t forget, you’re part of that competition too,” Vassa smirked, handing a plate of snacks to Azriel, who eagerly took it and, for some reason, served both himself and Eris, who wasn’t paying attention while typing something on his phone.

Azriel raised an eyebrow at Vassa’s words. Elain shrugged lightly. “There was that one time the oven malfunctioned, and the brownies caught fire. Hardly a real fire.”

The four of them turned again toward Jurian’s outraged shouts as he cursed Eris for not calming down his monsters. Eris pretended not to hear, while Vassa shook her head, Elain giggled quietly behind her hand, and Azriel and Lucien watched with open amusement as Jurian flailed his arms, trying to defend himself.

“They’re just playing,” Lucien said through laughter, but Jurian flipped him off, told him to fuck off, and continued to ward off the fluffy beasts.

The dogs eventually tired of their game with Jurian and settled down near the table, clearly content to be around their human companions. Azriel bent down and petted one of the hounds, who responded to the affection by nuzzling her nose into his hand, as if asking for more.

“Why don’t you scold Azriel for spoiling your dogs?” Vassa teased with a smirk.

Eris glanced from Azriel to the dogs, then to her, shrugging. Elain whispered something to Vassa about double standards as she knelt down to scratch one of the dogs behind the ear.

“I don’t understand why I trust my ass to you,” Jurian grumbled as he returned to the table, sitting next to Vassa while Lucien stayed by the grill. “You can’t even save me when I need it most.”

“Funny, I thought you knew I save asses for money,” Eris replied with a smirk.

As Jurian continued to curse at him and the hounds barked from their spots, clearly unhappy with the insults directed at their master, Azriel stood up and walked over to Lucien, intending to help him now that Jurian had left.

Not that keeping an eye on the meat was a monumental task, but it always felt right when more than one person was in charge of it. Lucien chuckled as he watched Jurian try not to hide behind Vassa whenever Eris’s dogs barked at him, and he looked at his girlfriend with a special tenderness as she shooed the dogs away from Jurian, even though she was laughing the whole time.

“Thanks for coming,” Lucien suddenly said, surprising Azriel as he turned to face him. “Eris hasn’t gone anywhere with us for a long time, and lately, he’s been more of a bastard-lawyer than himself.”

“Are you implying this cliché that I bring out the best in him?” Azriel asked with a teasing smile.

“Oh no, he’s still a bastard, even with you around,” Lucien laughed. “But… as cliché as it sounds, he’s happier now. Even if it’s not immediately obvious through all the sarcasm and snark. There’s a subtle difference you have to know to notice.”

“I’m glad,” Azriel said quietly, his smile softening as he glanced over at Eris. “Really glad.”

“I’d love to play the protective sibling and say something like ‘don’t hurt my brother,’ but I doubt I could ever top the speech Nesta gave me when she found out I was dating her middle sister,” Lucien shook his head, and Azriel chuckled.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of food, drinks, and stories about everything under the sun, especially since Azriel was the new face in the group, and Jurian and Lucien were particularly eager to tell him as much as possible in one night.

As morning approached, the group started to trickle back into the house, leaving Azriel and Eris as the last ones outside. Eris had fallen asleep, resting his head on Azriel’s shoulder, and Azriel remained because he was trapped—two hounds lay at his feet, snoring peacefully, while another lay on the bench beside him, with her head resting on his lap. And then there was Eris, who had dozed off against him.

The task of extracting himself without waking anyone turned into a bit of a challenge, taking Azriel longer than expected to figure out how to manage it. Eris eventually stirred, mumbling something incoherent. But it was impossible to take his drunken, sleepy grumbling seriously, so Azriel just smiled and helped him inside.

“Left door to the right,” Eris muttered.

“I don’t think that’s useful information,” Azriel remarked, realizing there couldn’t possibly be a left door on the right.

“Smartass.”

Laughing quietly, Azriel found an empty bedroom and decided to stay there as well. Not that he was keen on wandering around the dark house in search of another room. Plus, the prospect of staying with Eris was far more appealing. So, after undressing and settling under the blanket, Azriel comfortably wrapped his arms around Eris from behind, pressing his nose into the crook of his neck and inhaling the scent of alcohol, charcoal, and that now-familiar cologne.

tag list: @sizzlingstarlightsky @isnotwhatyourethinking @molcat07 @chairofchaos @lilah-asteria

[mudandmire]

Changes

Azris Week - Day 6: Changes

~~~ Little heavy for @azrisweek day 6, but I've had this scene in my head for days now and wanted to do it justice. I hope I did! Thank you all for reading, hope you enjoy!! :D ~~~

Fixing it

The salve Azriel uses for his hands now has to be restocked in the washroom cabinet every week. A supply that once lasted him two, sometimes three weeks, is running out faster than before.

Azriel will never complain—never whine or groan about how quickly he runs out of salve. Because all of it is going to Eris, and there is not a more worthy cause to use up all the burn salve in the world than him.

Sunlight slants through the window, golden and liquid where it pools on the wood floor and in the wash basin. Azriel brushes his hand on Eris’s right shoulder, gentle and searching, down to his arm. Eris startles slightly—he always does these days, but Azriel knows not to take it personally.

“Mina’s down for her nap,” he says softly, his other arm wrapping around his waist, “we should change your bandages, sweetheart.”

Azriel knows a time when Eris would have turned to him, a smirk tugging at his pink lips that Azriel would kiss at just to make them bloom into a smile.

He now knows a time when Mina isn’t crying, or fussing, or sick, Eris is quiet. Pensive. He leans more to his right, turns to his right, his right hand following Azriel whenever he falls to his left side.

He presses gentle kisses to fabric on his shoulder, waits patiently for Eris to say something. Or nothing, they’ve cultivated a comforting silence like their own secret garden over the years—it’s come in handy. This is one of those times.

“Are her wings doing better today?” Eris’s voice is quiet, raspy from how little he talks.

Azriel’s eyes fall shut, melting into the line of Eris, chest to back, pulse to pulse. He’s near dead on his feet with exhaustion. Taking care of an infant, an Illyrian infant when neither of them had very good childhoods was certainly a learning curve. Unfortunately for both of them; the curve seemed to be carving out most—if not all—of their sleep.

“They are, yeah. A little sore by the tendons, but Mumiah took a look today and said it’s most likely growing pains.” He mumbles into the warm skin of his neck, eyes still closed.

“That’s good.” Eris whispers. His own hands, spurred on my the littlest of good news, the best news when it comes to them, find Azriel’s and lock around them.

“C’mon,” Azriel says, stepping away from the heat of his body and leading him to the washroom, “we need to change the bandages before she wakes up.”

“We don’t need to do anything, Azriel.”

Azriel pauses in the doorway of the washroom, spinning on his heel and fixing Eris with the sternest look he can possibly conjure when he’s one second away from either bursting into tears, falling asleep, or kissing Eris so hard both of them forget the past month. Past year, past whole of their lives. Until they’re nothing but warmth and starlight and forever.

“I’m saying this once: It’s not a chore, Eris. You changed my bandages for months, was it ever an obligation for you?”

“Azriel—no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Sweetheart,” his fingers ghost along the cotton gauze of the edge of the bandage. “I know what this is like, intimately. I know what you’re thinking so I need you to understand this isn’t a chore, or a job, or whatever else you think it is. I do this because I want to, because I love you, because I want to do everything with you.” He holds Eris by his chin, waiting for the love his life to meet his gaze.

Eris swallows hard, a glossy sheen over his eyes. “I love you.” He whispers back.

He pecks his lips gently, “love you, besheirt. Will you let me change your bandages, now?”

“If you must.” He grumbles, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

Azriel brings him further into the washroom, settling him at the counter near the basin. “I must.”

He runs his hand under the water, Eris handing him the little bar of soap. “Is the new milk working better for her?”

Azriel shrugs, patting his palms dry with the towel. “Depends—I think we can do as much as we can, but as long as she doesn’t have a mother…” A pinch appears between his brows, and he shakes his head.

“It kills me we can’t be what she needs.” Eris whispers, softer than intended.

Azriel watches him carefully, paying close attention to the bandaged left side of his face and neck, down to his shoulder. The same sentiment had been running through his head, too. How no matter how gentle and loving, no matter how they gave her a soft bed with all the furs and blankets she could want or sourced different milks from all over Prythian—they couldn’t be what she most needed, at this stage.

“We’ll get there.” He’s reassuring both of them, but it comes out uncertain.

“I want to be good enough, Azriel. I need to be good enough for her.”

Azriel nearly breaks his concentration from where he’s cautiously peeling away the bandage from Eris’s skin. He knows it’s painful, knows how many nerves are sparking and screaming. But Eris bears through it, nothing but the tight clench of his jaw and his hands curled into fists on his lap revealing otherwise.

“You are good enough, Eris.”

“No, I’m not, I’m—” he cuts off, one hand gesturing widely to his face, the piece of mangled, scarred skin revealed by the peeled off bandage.

Azriel bites down hard on his lip. No, this past month and a half hasn’t been easy. But one of the hardest things has to have been watching Eris—lit up from the inside with his copper hair and his trickster grin and that caring, daring heart—fall into a shell. A safe cocoon of vacancy and indifference.

It kills him, that he can’t be what either of them needs. Can’t stretch himself far enough, can’t give parts of himself away like bandages or the right milk to fix whatever’s broken. He can stitch by hand, mend by touch; but give nothing of what the two loves of his life actually need.

He swallows past the knot in his throat, letting it bob along the rising tide of despair that swells till it reaches the back of his tongue.

Azriel lets the silence be for now as he works away the rest of the bandage around Eris’s left ear, the one that stretches down to his neck. Soft apologies slip from his lips with every hidden wince, every caught whimper that Eris keeps behind his teeth.

When it comes away, fully, Azriel discards it and looks at him. There used to be a time where Eris relished being the center of Azriel’s unwavering attention—the star that kept his gaze. It’s just another thing Azriel has had to adjust to: like touching Eris on his right shoulder before greeting him, changing his bandages at odd hours when Mina finally cries herself to sleep, and keeping his gaze light. Easy. Not a search light or heavy, shared secret—but simple.

Azriel does so what is silently asked of him when Eris curls in on himself. His eyes skate around the ridges of his scars, the angry, raw sheen of it and the tight, whitened edges.

“It’s healing at the ends, so that’s good.” He says quietly, a damp, soaped cloth in his hand he begins to blot gently over the burn.

“Mm.” Is all he says, amber eyes cast down to where his fingernails pick at his cuticles until small drops of blood bead.

Azriel cups his fingers in his. “It is good. It means this isn’t forever.” His voice is stronger, head ducking down to meet Eris’s gaze. “And,” he starts, “even if it was—this doesn’t mean you’re not good enough, Eris.”

“Then what does it mean, Azriel. Because from where I’m standing—sitting—it means I completely failed.”

“Gach’lilit, failed what? The only one who’s a culprit here is ten feet underground in a pile of ash. Your father is the one who failed you, failed your family but most of all you.”

“How am I supposed to—” his voice breaks, “how am I supposed to care for her, raise her and love her when I struggle to do that for myself most days? Azriel, this isn’t—”

“That’s why I’m here. That’s why you’re here. So when we fall short—because stars, Eris, we will constantly fall short—we have one another to pick up the slack. To pick each other up, dust us off, and send us on our way with a kiss.”

He laughs wetly. “Where did you learn all this wisdom, my love?”

“Zebedee.” He says simply. “He wasn’t my father, not by blood, but he was the father I needed.”

Eris nods with quiet contemplation. “And we’ll be the fathers Mina needs. Not ‘cause we’re blood, but because she’s ours—and we’re hers.”

“Exactly, gach’lilit.” He’s patting the burn salve on gently against the burn, his touch so light, it would be a whisper.

Eris’s hands circle his wrists when he pulls away. “I never meant to insinuate scars mean you’re unworthy, my love. I’m sorry.” He brings them up to his lips, pressing gentle, open mouthed kisses to each place he knows twinges with a dull ache now and then. The palm of his hands, the knobby knuckles of his fingers, the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrists.

Azriel sighs softly, wings shuddering, letting Eris’s lips take the path they want and basking in the warmth they emanate.

“Do you remember,” he says, and Eris glances up through the fan of his copper eyelashes, “the first week or two we had Mina and how she would just cry every time I held her?”

Eris frowns, his lips turning down where they’re pressed against Azriel’s hand. He nods.

“How she cried, and wiggled, and tried to get out of my arms—but every time you held her she would settle down enough to fall asleep.” Azriel casts back his memory to those first few dark weeks—Eris having just come back from his father, scarred and shattered, now deciding to raise a little Illyrian girl with no home, no parents, no living relatives to speak of.

Azriel gives Eris a grimace. “I thought she hated my hands, the feel of them. I thought I’d never be able to hold our daughter because of these.” He gestures to them with his head, fingers twitching in Eris’s grip.

“But,” he whispers, “you told me otherwise. And you didn’t just tell me, you helped find a solution.” He wings flutter gently, rustling the still afternoon air, and Eris’s eyes dip down to his tunic.

A smile quirks his lips. “Who knew infants had such specific fashion tastes.”

“Who knew—you did.” Azriel scoffs a laugh, his head thrown back.

“Well, I didn’t know, it was a guess. I just wanted to fix it.”

“Mhm,” he hums, “so, guess what I’m doing?” He says, holding up the clean bandages with raised brows.

Eris sighs, but he’s smiling and Azriel will count it as a win. Sunshine’s come back, at least for now, and when the clouds come back—because they will—he’ll sit with him then, too.

“Fixing it?” Eris guesses for show, but his soft eyes tell Azriel the truth.

“Yep.” He says, beginning to wrap the cotton gauze around the burn, now shining with ointment. “Because that’s what we do.”

“I fix it when it turns out you need to wear softer clothes, not Illyrian leathers, when holding Mina.” Eris finishes.

“And I fix it when you need your bandages changed—or if you need to sleep on the other side of the bed to be closer to her, to hear her better.” His careful, steady hands press the edges of the bandage down, keen eyes watching Eris for any flicker of pain or discomfort.

“How’s that, too tight?”

Eris leans forward, pressing his lips to his with a sigh Azriel catches and keeps. His arms circling around to rest on Eris’s waist.

“You always do it perfect, love, you know that.”

Azriel’s features twist. “Not always, I remember the first couple times I botched it because I was used to putting bandages on me, not on someone else.”

Eris’s hands run up the length of his arms to his shoulders, hanging loosely around his neck as the tip of his nose nudges against his cheek. “Yes, but you never hurt me.”

“Mm, never.” Azriel says against his mouth. Quiet, a declaration. Not to Eris, because he knows, but after a life of abuse from someone who was supposed to have made that same promise, Azriel didn’t mind vowing it out loud now and then.

It’s easy to bask in each other—the golden sunlight filling the room, warming their sides and arms, making them glow like some ancient, lovely carving of devotion. Eris keeps their foreheads pressed together, and Azril makes sure he’s nowhere near the bandage. Their eyes have fallen closed; whether from exhaustion or contentment, neither know. It remains easy, sitting in silence like this; their cultivated garden, their familiar cluster of stars.

A sharp cry echoes from the bedroom. Loud and wailing, heavy for being the product of such little lungs.

Eris laughs, and his breath brushes against Azriel’s mouth—who can’t help but press forward slightly to kiss him. Eris slips off the counter, a light in his eyes rekindled and Azriel smiles at him warmly.

“C’mon,” Eris says, “we have a little terror to feed.”

Azriel throws his head back in a laugh. Exhausted, drained, completely and utterly dead on his feet; he’s slightly afraid that if he even sees a bed he’ll fall asleep—but there is absolutely no grander part of his life than this. Nothing more luxurious than helping Eris change his bandages. Nothing more simple, but lovely, than watching as the first love of his life coos a soft greeting, and picks up the second to cradle her small body against his chest.

Golden sunlight pools around them, stars of a different kind, and Azriel walks forward to join them.

~~///~~///~~///~~

Alright yay cool they don't make me want to bang my head against a wall at a l l. I know nothing about changing burn bandages please don't come at meeee. The editing for this is rushed because I'm trying to get it out before work lol so I'll fix mistakes when I get back.

I can't believe azris week is almost over???? That's crazy this has been so so fun I'm gonna miss it so much :((

[tswaney17]

It's a Match - Part 1

Happy birthday to the incredible @impossiblescissorspeachpaper!! I hope you have the loveliest of birthdays baby. I'm so blessed to call you one of my close friends. You're such an incredible person. 💕 Enjoy your special day, my love.

This fic is inspired by a conversation between myself, @ultadverb, @offtorivendell, @impossiblescissorspeachpaper, and @duskwhisperer. Thank you all for allowing me to take this idea and run with it. Also, apologies because this is barely edited. I was a hot mess all over this fic and it shows. 😅

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: language, NSFW

Word Count: 9,759

Read the full fic on AO3 here. Snippet under the cut.

Azriel was lounging on the couch in Cassian’s apartment regretting every decision that led him to this moment. Because just a few minutes ago, he accidentally let slip that he downloaded The Cauldron, a dating app, a month ago and his brother and Mor had not stopped pestering him about it since the words passed through his slightly buzzed lips.

“Come on, Az,” Mor whined, hanging over his shoulder and shooting him those puppy-dog eyes he had trouble resisting. “Open it up. Let’s see who you’re chatting with.”

That’s where the problem lay. Azriel wasn’t chatting with anyone because he never actually swiped right on anybody. It wasn’t that he didn’t find anyone particularly attractive—there were plenty of pretty girls on the app—it was just that he wanted something more than a physical relationship. He was thirty now; had a good career and his own place, made good money, and was freely able to spend it on anything without worrying about paying his bills. His life was in a good spot.

But he never really dated. Yes, he got women and fucked them well, Az wasn’t self-conscious enough to not know he was an attractive man, but those one-night stands just weren’t cutting it for him anymore. He wanted a genuine connection with someone; somebody he could build a relationship with.

Like what Rhys had found in his new girlfriend, Feyre. He’d met her once or twice, but it was obvious his brother was completely in love with the woman. Head over heels kind of in love. He was happy for him, truly. But sometimes, when he listened to his brother speak about the light of his life, he got this envious feeling inside; because he wanted that too.

He supposed that this dating app in general was probably not the best place to find that, but he was at a loss on where to find women that were looking for more than riding dick. Az sighed, running a brutally scarred hand through his dark hair, the strands flopping onto his forehead. “I’m not chatting with anyone,” he admitted, taking another swig of his beer.

Read More

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

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Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

Hi again! 

Now that we’ve kicked things off, I’d love to know more about what makes your heart flutter when it comes to Eris and Azriel! 😍 How do you like them to be portrayed? Are you a fan of softer Azriel or more morally grey Eris? Do you prefer them confident, vulnerable, or somewhere in between?

And what kind of relationship dynamic really does it for you—slow burn, enemies to lovers, established relationship, rivals? I’m so curious to hear about your favorite headcanons and moments you can't get enough of!

Also, are there any Azris fics you adore or keep coming back to? Whether it’s the angst, fluff, or perfectly written tension, I’d love to hear all about what makes them your OTP goals.

Can’t wait to dive into what you love most about these two!

-🎅

Dear Santa ✨️🎅🌲

There's these two males, right?

🖤One dark and mysterious. Takes out his rage and morally greyness (phone wanted to autocorrect to gayness 🤭) on those he tortures. Don't even get me started on how he unleashes that with this second male.... that's a whole different point I'll ramble about later.

Think Dexter for how he morally balances the primal urge to kill. He developed a code. Sometimes he breaks and that code gets blurred, but he finds a way to course correct.

He comes across intimidating and scary but he's just a baby. He craves love and true acceptance above all else. To feel seen.

He's confident in his looks. I don't think he's super super insecure about his scars, I think it's more so an internal battle, so he avoids any and all opportunities to communicate about himself. I also don't see him with a fear of fire. Maybe at some point, but baby healed in that aspect, having to be in battle and by fireplaces. It's kinda like he wields black flames anyway, so... 😶‍🌫️

He's in love with this other male but has never been able to admit that to himself. Yes, there's shit that happened with Mor 👀, but maybe he's envious. Envy for what he sees of Eris' masked life and is conflicted. He may be a spymaster, but he missed all the obvious signs. It hits deep insecurities within him.

❤️‍🔥SPEAKING OF THIS OTHER MALE 🫠

I want to get tangled in his hair.

He is flames incarnate. Very quick to ignite anyone that harms those he loves. Determined to not be remembered like his father. Gets too into the political game, but is fucking good at it. It is his game.

But he deeply cares for the people, the land, and the life of Autumn. He's just a little boy playing in piles of leaves that had to grow up way too fast.

He knows he's beautiful and uses that in his games. I saw someone post a bit ago (I can't remember who and I can't find it im sorry😭) that as a kid, Eris wanted Az to like him. He looked up to him as younger kids do. But then- 👀, and maybe a couple fumbles here and there. Now they fight as longing foreplay.

It's suspicious, it's odd, it's stalkery. Eris mentions Az whenever he can. Az sulks around the shadows of Autumn trying to find valid reasons not to like Eris. Eris knows he's there.

He likes playing with his food.

They're the ultimate slow burn enemies to lovers. Then they try to keep it a secret, but someone always finds out those kinds of things. Probably Lucien tbh. Major little brother energy with that little shit.

I'm not anti anyone but some IC criticism is good for the soul.

Santa, I'm afraid I've lost the plot,

Hopefully you get the vibes 😅🌲🍪🥛

sss

[chunkypossum]

🍁🦊🌲🏅

Oh wow 4! Ok let’s seeee

🍁 What's the most challenging part about writing or creating for Eris?

He has such a distinct personality that’s so difficult to get right. A lot of people do his gorgeous brand of wit and grace, humor and sultry otherness justice, I do not. But that’s ok we find a way lol.

🦊 What's your favorite fan theory or speculation about Eris?

It’s kind of sad because well, of course it is. But my favorite is that he was just a very young child when mor was left alone in those woods. It explains a lot and I’m a sucker for that kind of sad background.

🌲 How do you imagine Eris's relationsh his brothers?

He isn’t close with any of them. He could have been with Lucien, or maybe had been but the rest of them are too untrustworthy. He only barely maintains control over them by rank but is sure that any one of them will take the first opportunity to stab him in the back if it benefits them. I would LOVE to think there is just one brother that he could be soft with and I will always write it that way ALWAYS but I’m not sure he gets that kind of luxury. I know he longs for it.

Also this line in ACOWAR will forever haunt me and I can’t figure out why….

“ Eris’s pale face flushed. “I was given an order. And sent to do it with two of my … brothers.” why are we pausing before saying brothers? hmmm? HMMM?

🏅 What's a scene with Eris you've always wanted to create but haven't yet?

I desperately want to write a DARK fantasy Azris with Eris despairingly in Koschei’s lake at some point.

[separatist-apologist]

You’re right, it is rough for us new folks. It’s frustrating trying to navigate when so many people spew hate towards each other.

I’m getting so tired of seeing “If you believe ___, then you have no reading comprehension.” Even from people whose opinions I agree with.

It’s gotten better as I’ve blocked people/filtered tags, but back when I first got here, it was awful.

I'm putting all my opinions under a cut just because it was long, and not because it was triggering

I think, from my perspective, it's two separate things. On the one hand, the obsession with canon, whether people want to admit it or not, stems from this belief that all the shippers they personally hate will HAVE to leave once we get book confirmation.

Which, of course, explains the sizable Azris/Neris community. That's how that works.

It always gets dressed up "well I just want the "bad" shippers to go" without admitting they want EVERYONE to leave, AND that their aggressive behavior only punishes the people who are trying to ship and let ship outside of the bullshit. The people in love with fighting won't leave, they'll simply rebrand into an anti account.

And secondly, this belief that it's SooOOOOoOOOOooOOOooo obvious what the next book is about from an author who retcons her own world building book to book and has done so since the inception of this series. Which like, to some degree, is the one thing everyone agrees on, but only conditionally and only when it suits them.

So canon becomes a convenient, inconsistently applied weapon in which some folks can beat others over the head with to shove their very specific interpretation of the books onto others- this happens even IN the ship (see: I'm, apparently, not really an elucien and I owe that one redditor who claimed I "sometimes" wrote elucien and was a feysand/gwynriel an apology LMAO). I've watched people within the ship itself fight smaller, newer accounts because their vision doesn't align with what often what amounts to a fanon interpretation ANYWAY.

Ultimately, none of this would be any of my business (and its not lost on me I was vaguing people instead of just calling them out directly), except for the amount of people who routinely slide into my DMs talking about how nervous they are to interact, how other people have come after them with sharp teeth for the crime of different head canons/ship preferences. I take that personally, I guess, because I remember being new and nervous and like, people were mostly very welcoming and kind.

This is everyones hobby, and it's both not serious, not life threatening, or worth a lot of the vitriol that happens day to day. I wish folks would consider the question, "who cares?" when it's not offensive or harmful.

[born-to-riot]

Messaging you... like this?

Any quote? "The games you play you would always win"- Set fire to the rain. And ship… Anything with Eris, preferably Azriel (or if you have a lot of it in your brain, do Cassian x Eris), please

Hope Azris is okay, and uh warning it’s sad and major character death ✌️

Request by: @hieragalbatorixdottir

——————

Azriel has been lying on the top of his roof, face down, head pillowed on his arms, here in the pouring rain for hours now.

He is aware that this may seem dramatic but he can’t seem to bring himself to care. He doesn’t think he can…. He doesn’t even know... All he does know is that he wasn’t expecting it to hit him like this.

They weren’t supposed to understand each other. He wasn’t supposed to fall for him.

It's not like the Mother destined them for each other. They were enemies, they had been for a long time. So why does he feel hollow, why are his insides all numb, why can’t he see past this moment, right here, soaking in the cool downpour.

Azriel’s wings automatically were raised above to let the rain pour off them, but that didn’t stop the water from reaching his hair or pooling underneath him, it's like they were pointless, he was pointless. What was the point anyway…why is he here, why can’t he move?

What is the point of being able to fly? Of being able to communicate with his shadows? What’s the point if he wasn’t able to do what mattered in the end.

Azriel inhales deeply and lets out an involuntarily shaky exhale, there's not much his body can do against the plummeting temperatures of the rain and the subzero levels of his mood and motivation.

He lifts his head up just a miniscule amount from where he had it pillowed in his arms, just enough so he could shift the positioning of his head to the left, then lays it back down, hair sopping wet and hanging over his eyes. It doesn’t cover it all though, there is still a sliver of light peeking through the dark curtain, just enough for his red stained hazel eyes to make out the crumpled piece of papyrus, its ink long washed away by the rain.

It doesn’t matter, he thinks as he closes his eyes, as he closes the soaked piece of paper into his fist, ignoring how the added pressure makes it fold into itself even more into a soggy pile of scrap, as he pushes his face back into his arms, forcing himself back into darkness, hoping maybe he’ll never have to go back.

How can he come back from this? He can tell his shadows are whispering in his ears trying to tell him something, he can’t bring himself to listen. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to listen to them again. Not after the news they just gave him. Not after the poison they dripped into his consciousness.

Azriel just can’t stop thinking about the perfectly printed scrawl of ink left on the piece of papyrus, the one that’s long been ruined and warped by the rain, molded to his fingers. He wishes the rain could wash away his memories too, that way he can see something else other than the repeated visions of the words that used to be.

My Shadowsinger, I’m afraid we’ve flown a bit too close to the sun, my heart will always be yours, but it seems my spirit is no longer ours to keep.

How did it even come to this point? Why did it feel like he had been felled with his own blade? Why can’t Azriel find the will to live on in a world where Eris Vanserra no longer walks? A world where Eris Vanserra no longer smiles, no longer talks?

How is Azriel supposed to get up, how is he supposed to progress? The tiny thing he stumbled upon with Eris, the relationship they both nurtured between their intertwined hands, its still alive in his chest. What is he to do when he looks for the other, when he reaches out for him, but is inevitably met with nothing but a ghost.

His family doesn’t know, he never bothered to tell them, if he couldn’t understand it himself how could he begin to hope that they might. It's hard to explain how barbed words shifted into playful teasing, how sheer hatred morphed into a cruel understanding.

How was it that Eris Vanserra was able to provide Azriel the exact inexplicable support and company he was craving? Azriel supposes he’ll never have a chance to find an answer… not after the shadows whispered to him of Eris’ death moments after he received his last letter.

Would he have been able to change anything? Would he had been able to prevent it? Would Eris have let him try?

Azriel, for the first time in hours, feels something other than the never ending numbness that had settled over his body ever since he collapsed on the ground with that stupid piece of papyrus in his hand. It's the stinging heat of anger filling him, the steam of fury.

How dare he? How dare he let himself take a risk and not cue in Azriel, how dare he leave him? How dare he force Azriel into solitude again, a world where no one understands. Fucking Vanserras, Azriel thinks, fists tightening. He feels the need to fight but there is no enemy in sight, nothing tangible he can destroy, no escape for the rage. There’s nothing.

How is he supposed to accept that?

Azriel remains in the same position, lying face-down and vulnerable in the pouring rain. He’s soaking, he’s wet, he’s cold. His body shivers anew with each fresh droplet of the ice-cold downpour, his mind is reeling.

Eris would always win their little games, always. He hates to call this tragedy a game, he does. But as Azriel ignores the pleading whispers of his shadows, his skin shriveling under the never-receding pool of water, and his future looking nothing other than dim.

Azriel can’t help but think to himself, looks like Eris has won again.