#This was meant to be part of Azris Week

[theaterqueen1985]

Hushabye Mountain - TheaterQueen - A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas [Archive of Our Own]

[chunkypossum]

@azrisweek || DAY 2: Familiars || 14k words

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.

NGL I did too much this week and I'm being such a HATER about every word I wrote y'all. And this one is my least favorite😅 but the idea wouldn’t leave me alone sooooo here we are. This week I'm posting and running away to hide and devour everyone else's content. ANYWAY... Happy @azrisweek !!

Hope you enjoy yourselves I know I will!

READ ON AO3

Snippet under the cut.

Screaming into his hands, Azriel started laughing at himself. The more crazed his laughter became, the more agitated his shadows grew until they were swarming around him in a massive dark cloud. The sight must have been terrifying but Azriel was mindless in his confusion and anger, taking no notice. He had to trust that his shadows would not let him be discovered in that state. They veiled him and brought Azriel into the void between worlds while they tried to find him a private place to calm down. As much as he wanted to, Azriel could not stay in the void indefinitely.   His feet touched the ground in several places at once. There was nowhere in Prythian he could run from these thoughts. His best option was the icy wind of the Illyrian steppes. Azriel groaned as the wind chafed his wings and clarity hit him a moment later. Right or wrong, Azriel had to know. It took him a long time standing in the Winter night to gather up the courage to utter his demand. The significance of it hung heavy in the air and crawled along his bones. Better kept in the dark corners of his mind, Azriel was acknowledging something by saying it outloud. It was the possibility that the pull towards Autumn meant more than his hatred, his protection of Mor and the duty to his court.  “Take me to him.” Nearly lost in the howling of the wind, Azriel whispered those simple words. Nothing had ever been harder for him to say.  He didn’t have to specify who he meant, the shadows just knew. 

If anyone wants on or off the taglist please let me know!

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 

[iftheshoef1tz]

Since i answered some of your questions on someone else’s ask, @legionsofthehungry, i figured I’d make a separate post and condense a little!

Why did you decide to write about azriel and eris, a pairing many consider a crackship but could be categorized as a rarepair?

I definitely consider it a rare pair, not a crackship, since az and eris have had several (very memorable) interactions in canon. When i first read acotar last year and decided to delve into fandom for the first time since 2016, i thought i might want to write something, but i felt i didn’t have anything interesting to say for feysand or nessian, despite loving those pairings. I’ve always loved me a good ETL, and i discovered azris on reddit, where i first started interacting with the acotar fandom. It just felt right!

Was it something that came to you full-form? Or were you surprised at any point by the story wanting to go in a different direction? How much of the story do you have outlined in advance?

It cracks me up to tell this story (so i tell it all the time) but originally obpbl was intended to be only 2000 words. No, I’m not missing a zero, lmao. Then, i was like, oh, it’ll be 25k. Then, maybe 75k. And then i got to 150k and was like ?????? Guess I’ll never know!! Helena and Kyros weren’t originally intended to feature so heavily; kyros was originally supposed to be evil! But i realized i wasn’t particularly interested in writing that angle for the story and thought it would be more thematically interesting to have this golden retriever dude really upending azriel’s conception of the kind of people who live in the hewn city. And i meant to keep thanatos around for longer, but it felt kind of stuck when i tried to keep him around, so he literally had to go to the chopping block, haha.

As for planning, i originally wrote about 7-8 scenes in the first, like, week of writing, and then started fitting the pieces in around them, using those pre-written scenes as kind of structural pillars to build towards. But i took so many detours along the way - like the mating ceremony originally wasn’t going to happen before i daydreamed up the “are you a sadist, lady elain?” bit, and most of the interactions with ren were written and then HEAVILY edited after i decided on the events that just happened in chapter 35 back in august. I think i usually thought ahead in the plot about 7-8 chapter ahead of where i was writing, depending on what the characters ended up doing. (The gay sex cabin chapters were only supposed to be one long-ish chapter HAHA)

How long have you been a fan of acotar> did you read tog/crescent city? Are there other fandoms you’re a part of or would like to write about next?

I read acotar in October of 2021! I started cc earlier this year and devoured them (bryce quinlar can step on me and i would thank her), and I’m slowly working my way through tog because of writing/work commitments (chaol is my sweet dumb son and i love him; manon could step on me, preferably at the same time as bryce, and i would thank them both). I’m not really part of any other fandoms at the moment, though my last one before this was teen wolf, and i have been reading dramione fics on the side when i have the time/mental bandwidth. I’ve written one cc fic (High For This), and i am planning an eventual sequel, as well as a what-if about Sam Cortland with the summary inspired by Slaughterhouse 5 - Listen: Sam Cortland has come unstuck in time.

Do you have other hobbies you engage in or is writing something you devote most of your free time to (or even do professionally)?

Writing right now is mostly what i dedicate my free time to, but i also do needlework (my page’s header is something i stitched for a friend!), i love to bake, and i am learning how to make hand bound books! I’m very glad I don’t write for a living, to be honest. I teach music as my day job, and going to school for it sucked out a lot of the joy of making music, and i don’t want that to happen to my writing too. Although, I’ve been encouraged to write some original stuff, so who knows what’ll happen!

[vanserraseris]

END - There’s the apology azris oneshot. It doesn’t really have a title, Flames and Shadows is basic but it’s all I’ve got. I think Eris and Az would be great enemies to reluctant friends to lovers idk. Also, Eris at this point has sort of just been dragged into the ic friend group but still remains an asshole. It is what it is. Hope you enjoy it!!!

YOU HAVE NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE but this was INCREDIBLE. 

Also i LOVE the idea of eris reluctantly being dragged into the ic

Anyway. Here it is in full:

Azriel had been working with Eris for months, he’d trusted the spoiled prince to get them safely out of harm’s way, to take them to a secure location. He’d been expecting Eris to winnow them to his personal home, but as they materialized in the unfamiliar space, Azriel realized it was the first time he was seeing the other male’s room. With a small growl, Eris let go of Azriel leathers, shoving past him but not touching his wings.

Eris barely lifted a finger, the stunning, stone fireplace to his right roaring to life along with the bronze sconces that lined the walls. All of Eris’s cottage was elegant, the furniture in it made of expensive carved mahogany that matched the gleaming hardwood floors and sideboards, everything organized, orderly, and tasteful. Eris’s bedroom was much the same.

Two comfortable-looking cushioned chairs were placed near the fireplace, a low table between them was covered in multiple neat piles of thick books. His bed was huge, pushed up against the opposite wall, big enough for multiple people to lie in it. The carved pattern on the dresser, mirror, and nightstands was intricate - beautiful. Not knowing what to do with himself, Azriel merely stood where Eris had left him - right in the middle of the bedroom.

Azriel took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, livid that they’d been caught by surprise but the anger not showing on his face. Some of Azriel’s shadows skittered around him, the rest trailed after Eris as he stumbled to the dresser, knocking into it with his knees so that it hit the wall with an ugly thud. Azriel watched as Eris leaned toward the mirror, wincing as Eris wiped at his mouth with the dark brown sleeve of his well-tailored jacket.

“What the fuck?” Blood nearly the same colour of Eris’s hair dripped from his nose, leaking down his face, staining the collar of the offwhite shirt that peaked out of Eris’s jacket. Eris tugged open the dresser’s top drawer, all his shirts neatly folded inside, taking one out and holding it up against his face. He turned to face Azriel, his newly cut hair in disarray as he gestured wildly in Azriel’s direction, “Some fucking spymaster.”

His voice was muffled by the shirt, but it did nothing to hide his angry tone, “I thought those shadows were useful.” 

Azriel clenched his jaw. For the most part, Eris had been treating Azriel’s shadows like he treated his hounds: with an unexpected softness. The shadows liked brushing up against Eris’s hands as he wrote, or curling up over his shoulders as he read. Azriel had apologized the first few times it had happened, but Eris had assured him that he didn’t mind.

He didn’t like the way Eris was talking about them now, though. “They are useful.” 

“They are not.” 

“They were distracted,” Azriel snapped, defending them. 

Eris moved the shirt away from his face, the bleeding seemed to have slowed. He snorted, the sound watery, “By what?” He turned back to the mirror.

Azriel was moments away from retorting “by you,” but he stopped himself. There must have been a reason his shadows monitored the Autumn Court Heir’s every move. Azriel assumed it was because they didn’t trust Eris Vanserra, and he didn’t want to offend one of the Night Court’s most important allies by telling him as much. 

“Give me that pitcher,” Eris demanded.

Azriel would have ignored him had he not felt slightly responsible for Eris’s current state. It wasn’t that Eris hadn’t been a decent enough fighter, but they both hadn’t been expecting an ambush, and as the more experienced one, Azriel should have kept an eye on him. Azriel handed Eris the pitcher that had been sitting on the nightstand, watching as water sloshed over the edges and onto the dresser as Eris shoved a clean part of the shirt into it before he brought the wet fabric to his face.

Eris leaned closer to the mirror, nearly knocking over the pitcher, and made a funny noise deep in his throat before he spoke. “Cauldron fucking boil me,” he bemoaned, one of his fingers gingerly touching the tip of his nose. “I think it’s crooked.” 

Azriel rolled his eyes. His nose looked fine, perfect, even. “It is not.” 

Azriel was debating whether or not to sit in one of the chairs when Eris turned an accusatory gaze in his direction, “I blame you for this complete and utter disaster.”

Azriel blamed himself too. That night was supposed to be nothing more than a routine lookout. If he’d known that Koschei was going to send others after them, he wouldn’t have taken Eris with him in the first place. Azriel would have thought about what it might have meant that he’d wanted to take Eris with him, but Azriel was too focused on the way his shadows seemed to be trying to warn Eris that he’d probably end up making his injuries a lot worse if he didn’t calm down.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Azriel suggested, his voice smooth. 

Eris paid him no mind, scrubbing a little too aggressively at the blood on his face. Most of it had come off, and his nose had finally stopped bleeding. “Don’t tell me what to do,” Eris muttered, wiping at some of the blood on his neck.

Azriel regretted that Eris had gotten hit in the face with the pommel of a sword, not really knowing why.

He’d spent years fantasizing about doing the very same thing, but spending so much time with Eris had Azriel - and he could barely believe it - liking him. “Vanserra, get on the bed,” Eris straightened, raising his brows, “Let me have a look.” 

“First Cassian, now you. I don’t like being ordered around by overgrown bats.” Despite the statement, Eris made his way to the bed, leaning up against the headboard, boot clad feet on the dark red covers.

Eris was still scowling as Azriel tipped his head back just a bit, cradling Eris’s jaw in one hand, taking in every feature of his face. He was beautiful in an undeniable sort of way, and now that he’d cut his hair, Azriel thought he looked even better. Eris’s strange friendship with Nesta had led to the change; he'd let her, Feyre, and Elain cut it for no apparent reason and still managed to look ridiculously stunning.

Azriel gently wiped at any remaining blood that stained the other male’s skin. Through the thin fabric of the shirt, Azriel could feel the sharp planes of Eris’s face and was reminded of the first time he’d ever seen the Autumn Court prince. He’d thought Eris was classically beautiful in a way that reminded Azriel of broken shards of stained glass. Lovely, yet dangerous.

Azriel put the ruined shirt on the bed, using the hand that wasn’t holding Eris’s chin to move some of the hair that had fallen over Eris’s brow. His nose wasn’t bleeding anymore, a small cut underneath his eye was already starting to heal, and the bruise on his jaw seemed to be fading. His nose definitely wasn’t crooked, but Azriel ran the tip of his scarred finger along the sloped bridge of it just to make sure.

Azriel hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to Eris. “I don’t think it’s broken,” he murmured. 

Azriel watched as Eris’s eyes fluttered. “I heard the crunch,” he breathed. 

Azriel didn’t know what came over him, in the moment he thought it might have been madness. Eris was one of his oldest enemies, he was cruel, and ruthless, and he deserved only the worst. That was what he’d believed for centuries.

He didn’t know what might have possessed him to press his lips to the mean line of Eris’s mouth, but he knew that it felt… right. Eris parted his lips in a shocked gasp, golden flames bright in his wide eyes. Azriel was completely out of his mind. He’d never, not once in his entire life, done something without thinking it through. The panic seized him quite suddenly, his wings flaring just a bit as he made to move back, to move away.

Azriel was more than just a little surprised when Eris lifted his hand, threading his slender fingers into the dark hair at the base of Azriel’s scalp, pulling him closer in another kiss. Azriel kissed Eris harder this time, grabbing the other male’s face in both hands, thumbs sliding against sharp cheekbones, lips moving with the force of weeks’ worth of wanting. Eris’s bottom lip was caught between Azriel’s teeth, his other hand coming up to fist in Azriel’s leathers.

Weeks upon weeks of working with Eris, talking to him, trusting him. A helpless sound escaped Eris’s lips when Azriel slowly moved his hands so that his thumbs traced the shape of the smooth, pale, column of Eris’s throat. Azriel had more than a million things to do, but as Azriel opened his mouth, Eris’s tongue pushing against his in a savage claiming, Azriel leaned into him, all those things forgotten.

Azriel wanted to move so that he was right between Eris’s thighs, to press the other male into the bed, to watch a prince of Autumn come undone. Their kisses were messy, urgent, desperate. Eris pulled him closer, and Azriel thought he could drown in the feel of him, the taste of him. The taste of crackling embers, of rich cognac, of Autumn mornings.

Azriel’s hands slid down to Eris’s chest, undoing the golden buttons of his jacket, pulling it wide. Eris tugged on the roots of Azriel’s hair in a way that nearly had him forgetting his own name. Azriel couldn’t deny that he was drawn to Eris like a moth was drawn to a flame, he just hoped he didn’t get burned. The tips of Azriel’s fingers found the laces of Eris’s bloodied, ruined shirt. He wanted the shirt to come off, he’d never wanted anything more.

Never in his wildest dreams did Azriel think he’d want - need - Eris Vanserra. A prince born into the most savage of courts, born of blood, and ash, and fire.

Azriel was playing with fire. 

Azriel didn’t like fire. 

With only half a thought, Azriel roughly shoved Eris away from him.

Eris had red embers dancing in the deep amber of his eyes, his cheeks were flushed and his lips slightly swollen. They were staring at each other, no one speaking for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds in the room their ragged breaths and the crackling of the fire in the hearth. 

Eris ran a hand through his hair, flashing Azriel the pale skin of his wrist as the sleeve lifted. “Well,” Eris started, “That was unexpected.” He huffed a breathless, awkward laugh.

Azriel guessed that it might have also been unwelcome. 

“That was…” Azriel paused. He didn’t know what to say. That was nice? That was entirely unplanned? That was something they should do again? He couldn’t read the expression on Eris’s face and his shadows weren’t being very helpful. “That was a mistake.”

Azriel knew he’d chipped away at Eris all these weeks. They’d gotten past Azriel’s one-word answers and Eris’s cruel remarks. They’d researched, and spied, and fought together. They talked to one another, trusted one another, but as soon as Azriel finished his sentence, he thought that perhaps he’d taken any progress they’d made and thrown it into roaring flames.

Watching Eris flip from open and vulnerable to cold and aloof, was like watching the last rays of sun disappear over the horizon - blink and you’d miss it. Eris nodded once, his eyes cold, lifting his chin just a bit. Eris’s voice as he spoke was smooth, arrogant, not a hint of the warmth Azriel had gotten used to. “Usually, males and females alike wait until the morning after to say something along those lines.”

Azriel stiffened, well aware that he’d managed to hurt Eris. He didn’t know what to say to make this whole thing better, but was saved from having to speak when the door to Eris’s bedroom slammed against the wall as it flew open. 

“I think I’ve found those—” Eris’s younger brother faltered, stopping suddenly, almost as if he’d hit some sort of ward.

Azriel nearly tripped over himself as he abruptly stood, him and Eris weren’t even that close to each other anymore but he felt like he desperately needed the space. Shadows frantically swirled around his feet, some skittering towards the Vanserra by the door. They hadn’t warned him for the second time that night of someone else’s presence, and Azriel was starting to think they were playing some sort of cruel joke on him.

Azriel had spoken to Rufus many times in their combined efforts to stop Koschei, and the young male almost always had something to say. Rendering him speechless wasn’t something that Azriel would have thought possible, but there he was, multiple ancient looking scrolls in his arms, his jaw slack as his russett eyes looked between the Autumn Court’s Heir and the Night Court’s Spymaster.

Azriel was certain that alarm was evident all over the features of his usually blank face, his shadows dancing around him as he waited for someone else to speak. - Rufus angled his head, amusement glittering in his all-too clever eyes. He looked very much like Lucien as he drawled, “Am I interrupting something?”

Eris’s sharp response nearly had Azriel flinching. “No.” 

Rufus smiled, elegant auburn brows raised as he adjusted the scrolls in his arms, “I have many questions.”

Eris’s smile in return was more of a bare of teeth, “And you will ask none of them.” 

“I’ll ask them later,” Rufus didn’t even look in Azriel’s direction as he threw himself onto one of the cushioned chairs by the fire. “I got those maps you asked for.” 

Azriel had forgotten that they’d asked Rufus to look for some older maps of the continent. Eris had been sure that they would be able to find some in the library of the Forest House, and Rufus had been the one who offered to look for them.

“Are you going to look over these with us, Shadowsinger, or are you going to stay by the foot of Eris’s bed the whole night?” 

Rufus spoke to Azriel, but Eris answered for him. “Azriel was just leaving.” 

Azriel turned his head sharply to face Eris. He was still leaning against the headboard of his bed, his hair messier than Azriel had ever seen it, his mouth set in a way that suggested he wasn’t very pleased.  

“Eris…” Azriel made to take a step towards him.

The Autumn prince just waved a hand dismissively, “Have a goodnight.” 

Azriel barely heard him, the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. He couldn’t help but feel as though leaving Eris’s cottage might be an even bigger mistake than the kiss. Azriel nodded once at Eris, deciding he’d winnow straight to the House of Wind as shadows swarmed him; he wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone right now. Eris’s flame bright eyes was the last thing Azriel saw as he was engulfed in darkness.