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jules-writes-stories · 4 months ago

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The Night Court Lounge | Tribeca, NYC

I forgot to post my WIP...Thursday? | Azriel x Eris AU |

“Perhaps I might have resisted a great temptation, but the little ones would have pulled me down” ―The House of Mirth

There was nothing like spotting one’s mother at a BDSM club.

The ink was still wet on his parents’ divorce papers, but there she was for all to see, sprawled across Helion’s lap. After all, the Vanserras could always be counted on to feed the tabloids and gossip columns.

Eris planned to finish his whiskey and make a discrete exit. But then, his heart leapt into his throat and his dick hardened at first sight.

He’d been expecting Thesan in his usual get up. Eris occasionally came to The Night Court to support his ex. The man could still turn him on like no one else. They’d never been good at long-term relationships, but they could be each other’s confidantes, a soft place to fuck and forget for a spell.

Eris had hoped to get that from his ex tonight, and was taken aback when something, someone, completely different entered the main stage.

The man looked younger and Thesan’s lithe body and smooth brown skin was replaced by a lighter, golden tone, covered in scrolling Arabic across a sleek muscled chest. In place of white feathers were black leather bat wings.

Eris found the whole thing to be absurd and had teased Thesan about it incessantly. But this man, his broad tattooed shoulders, the planes of his abs below the leather harness, those wings did something to him. He needed to go to fucking sleep or get laid.

Black lined eyes like topaz gazed out at the crowd. Eris wanted to smell those black curls, to test their silk between his fingers. He was being absurd.

The beautiful man got to his knees in the most submissive prone position in the cage, and Eris watched him lean, like an overgrown house cat, into the auctioneer’s hand as she stroked those curls through iron bars. And fuck if it wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen. This man was dangerous, even caged, and Eris wanted that creature purring between his legs.

Then Helion made a spectacle of himself, announcing his intentions, and that sealed the deal. Eris would win. He hadn’t made the Wall Street Journal’s “30 Money Makers under 30” lists three years in a row for nothing. He was an apex predator in every boardroom, could dominate every corner of the market. But what made him dangerous was his discretion.

The Wall Street wolves of Beron’s generation were past their prime. They were showy hunters who howled at every win, too certain of their supremacy and too concerned with pack politics. Thanks to a twenty four hour news cycle and social media, the current global market was volatile, and one must be ready to strike silently and with sudden force. For Eris Vanserra was no wolf. He was a snake.

He watched the kneeling figure, whose eyes traveled the room. Eris needed them on him. Look at me. See me. And almost as if the beautiful, dark creature read his thoughts, his head turned and hazel locked with his own. Fuck. Eris watched those gorgeous eyes travel along his face, lingering on his mouth. He smirked. Then, lower, down to his shoulders, to his chest, and lingered, once more, on his fingers. Eris moved them, ever so slowly, along the wet rim of his cocktail glass.

As those glittering eyes followed them, Eris swore he saw the man’s pupils blow out further. This beautiful stranger wanted him. And Eris had to possess this caged creature, needed to steal him away from Helion, from the pretentious Lord Winters, from Donna Suriel, the most sadistic bitch on this side of the Hudson. But mostly, Eris just wanted to watch that gorgeous face unfold with pleasure. Wanted that perfect body prone beneath him, before him, begging for release.

He was coiled in position and ready. And then Eris clocked it: a shadow of discomfort passed across the man’s face. He shifted and this time, it was not with arousal. His legs were cramping and he was tired. He gave three taps to his leg. He saw it for what it was. The sub had used his safe signal. Feyre, the auctioneer, almost imperceptibly, picked up the pace. She’d seen it too.

Those hazel eyes locked with his once more, as if to say, Don’t you want me? Eris kept his face impassive. He would reveal nothing. It was how he got this far, how he'd survived twenty-seven years as Beron’s son, and had made his name as the Viper of Wall Street.

“Forty thousand,” Helion called out in his bombastic voice.

Feyre called out quickly, “Forty thousand. Going once, twice and—”

He struck. “Fifty thousand.” Eris was sure to keep his voice level, his timbre smooth. It did no good to sound desperate or overwrought.

Hazel eyes locked with his, and it took all his will power not to stand up and take what was his. Because the caged, leashed, beautiful man, there on his knees, literally leaned forward, subtly arching his back so perfectly, as if his body couldn’t help but move closer to the sound of Eris’s voice. The auctioneer must have seen the same thing, because she didn’t give anyone a chance to counter.

“Sold to Eris Vanserra for fifty thousand dollars.”

#azris #azris supremacy #azriel x eris #azris fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #azris fanfic #azris au #acotar au #baby's first modern AU

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futurehunt · 10 months ago

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one of the few times we have azriel blatantly defying rhysand's orders. but why??

Who was on the northern flank?

"Jurian, Tamlin, and Beron still battered the Northern flank" - pg. 630

And who had just gone over there?

"Eris winnowed away - to warn his father, no doubt" - pg. 625

And how does Azriel know that?

"Rhys, where he stood now talking to Azriel and Eris...." right before Nesta warned them of the Cauldron gearing up for an attack- pg. 624

Anyway, after he flies off, we get 10 pages of every member of the IC standing around chit-chatting, talking about Vassa, joking with Miryam and Drakon, talking about Lucien, watching papa Archeron's ships arrive.

The situation is so dire that Azriel needs to charge off into battle but not dire enough that Rhysand, Cassian, Feyre, Amren, Mor, or anyone else needs to go help out for a bit :)

Azzy baby's instincts just needed to make him rush off and help his mate.

#azris #before y'all getting hopping mad don't forget crackships are about having FUN #azriel x eris #azris supremacy #mates baby #azriel acotar #acotar

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queercontrarian · 1 year ago

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Azriel in Summer

Y'ALL. TODAY. I come with a treat for you.

This is a scene from one of the wips living in my head where Azriel and Eris visit the Summer Court for diplomacy reasons (and also to look hot). Couldn't get it out of my head so I went to scream in @krem-does-stuff 's DM's about it anc commissioned her to paint Azriel for me.

And I. Am. OBSESSED. I've selfishly kept it to myself this past week but I think you should also all see this.

ILY KREM THANK YOU SO SO MUCH YOU HAVE OUTDONE YOURSELF

#azriel #screaming crying throwing up #pls notice the love bites i am obsessed with them #azris #summer court #you already know eris is making him dress up #can't have his baby running around in old fighting leathers all day when there are such pretty outfits with easier access

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nessiandefenseattorney · 2 months ago

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No because Eris is gay, why should I have to apologize? I saw gay so I said gay that ain’t bullying it’s an astute observation😌

#eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #eris the twink vanserra #i love him🥺#he is my baby #anti neris #i hate neris god i hate neris #pro azris #azris #azriel x eris #eris x azriel #i love azris #acotar #acosf #i love this tiktok sound so much

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mudandmire · 7 months ago

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Familiars

Azris Week - Day Two: Familiars

~~~ Welcome to day two of @azriweek! It is so early right now and I'm rushing this note because I need to go to work, but I'm literally so excited. This community is truly so talented and wonderfully kind it inspires me more and more. Fair warning this follows none of canon, like literally none. I went a little rouge with the lore but I couldn't care less because it was fun. Anyywaayyy, hope you enjoy! :D ~~~

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Made for

Azriel keeps his hands wrapped in cotton gauze the first week he’s in Zebedee’s fields. Every now and then, listening to the tall grass rustle, the canyon gale skipping across the steppes plains and buffeting against him, he’ll grasp his hands together and itch. It’s a bad habit, but the feeling, the weight, of his hands together brings him more comfort than he could ever voice.

The moon rises early, the summer season slowly cresting into autumn, and with it the midnight sun begins to disappear behind the fish-toothed ridge of the Illyrian mountains—every moment cut shorter and shorter. So Azriel sits in the flickering firelight of the hearth in the clay burrow, Zebedee humming a soft, low tune that makes his little, withered wings shudder. His mother is somewhere, sitting in a corner darning the holes in pant legs and socks, her narrow shoulders hunched—much like his.

It’s a quiet Azriel isn’t used to. A noisy quiet. Darkness, those familair shapes and figures takes their place along the walls and outside the glass pane windows—yet Azriel is not alone in it. For now, his shadows have settled comfortably along his shoulders and the frayed edge of Zebedee’s colorful patterned rugs. They had their time to stretch and play when the sun began to set, and now laze like fattened cats on the high beams of barns. The shadows are familiar; the light, the noise, is not.

Breathing, steady and deep—Zebedee keeps his eyes closed as he hums, swaying gently from side to side on the cushion he claims his own. The deep impression he has left on it from a lifetime of use evidence enough. Every now and then Azriel will pick up the softest snick of a needle through fabric, the pre-meditated rip of a seam, and he’ll picture his mother’s face, trace her name but won’t dare to turn around.

Azriel’s hands reach for each other, clasping fingers to fingers, like a lock latched. He soothes himself with the steady scrape of his bandages over skin, back and forth. He hardly thinks further about it, so lost in the dancing flames that he startles with a jolt when Zebedee’s large, calloused hand folds over his own.

His eyes jump to his, wide in his sockets. Zebedee’s gaze is open—it’s the only word Azriel knows for it. His eyebrows are lax, not pinched or furrowed, and his mouth isn’t pursed or twisted into a sneer like he’d so often see on his father, his step-mother. The dark, wet shine of his eyes looks into Azriel and it feels like his words come from there, not his lips.

“You must not agitate your scars, Azriel.”

Zebedee is a conflicting male. His gait is long, his feet so big Azriels can fit twice in his shoes. His hair is dark, wild and wiry with tight curls that match the thick of his beard around his mouth down his neck. There’s a sternness to his stance, his face, that comes from a lifetime of experience in the wilds of the Illyrian Steppes. Yet his eyes have retained their kindness; his hands their gentility.

A contradiction. Males who loom are cruel, Azriel had learned that and now he wore the bandages to prove it.

The room has gone completely silent, a blanket shrouding a candlelight. He can’t even hear the faint tug of a needle through fabric anymore.

Azriel tenses, his narrow, bony shoulders drawing up to his heated ears. “Sorry.”

Zebedee shakes his head, leans closer with his palm eclipsing Azriel’s hands entirely. “No apology needed, b’nee. I know from experience how umcomfortable scars can be, yet I also have the wisdom to know that itching and picking makes everything a whole lot worse.”

Azriel keeps his gaze pinned to Zebedee’s hand. The deep ingrained lines around his knuckles, the faint barrier between the dark skin of the top and the lighter, if not more calloused, skin of his palm. What he would give to have hands like Zebedee’s; strong and unbroken, crooked but powerful, large but kind.

His bottom lip juts out, knee boucing as he glares. “But your hands are fine.”

A laugh rumbles through Zebedee’s chest. “They may look it now, yes, but that is only because Oya and the Ko-kaw’eloi gave me time to make it so.”

“Ko-ka’eelohi?”

“Ah,” Zebedee says. Simple, his eyes glimmering with the shine of a secret and Azriel wonders if he’s going to tell him a story.

“I forget, sometimes, that you are unaware of our divine watchers.” He says, though he leans closer he still remains sitting straight, keeping his beetle black eyes trained on Azriel.

Azriel’s face twists, wings shuddering gently. “I know Oya, but I thought the Mother was the—the,” he loses his words slightly, fumbles for a meaning he doesn’t know how to place.

“The only divine one? That is what you were taught, yes?” There’s no judgement in his voice, only a curiousity as warm as the heat of his hands.

Azriel nods. “I thought Oya and Ena—Enalius were a myth.” He stumbles on the pronunciation slightly, but Zebedee takes it all in stride.

“Some think so, many in the moutain camps believe both to be a fairytale. But there are others, like us in the village, who believe otherwise.”

“That they’re real?” Childish wonder, the kind he had been denied his whole life, shamelessly fills his face. He’s too caught up in Zebedee’s simple story to think aout the incessant itch of his bandaged hands.

“That they were real, alive, and that even now they watch over us. They send us rain from the mountains, give us the wind we need beneath our wings. They watch over us under the midnight sun and the eternal moon—but always under the Ko-kaw’eloi: the stars divine.”

It paints a picture. Azriel had spent more than one night sleeping under the skylight in the stable—memories of dark, endlessly dark, cells and iron bars chasing him from his bed time and again. There’s a special pleasure in looking up, seeing the stars, watching the migration they track through their sky.

It makes Azriel feel less alone, some nights. There are not only shadows to comfort him, to clothe and keep him. But a night sky bursting with life and light that has been denied to him until now.

He wonders, though. “Can they only watch?” His little voice balances on the edge of something, a realization, or a confirmation of what he already knows.

Zebedee sighs deeply. “They have their places,” he says, face softened with understanding, “and we have ours.” His hands fall away from Azriel’s, and then spread like two great wings to his sides. “We are Illyrian, Azriel. We are made of this very stubborn, difficult land we build our farms and houses on. But, we are also gifted our freedom, our honor from the Ko-kaw’eloi—our wings are not just for decoration, to determine us different from others. They are a part of our history, in what we are made of. Made for.”

As if hearing the words, impassioned and earnest, Azriel’s wings twitch. They don’t often move, cramped as they had been the first eleven years, their growth had been severely stunted. Now in one great pull, pantomiming the spread of Zebedee’s arms, they fold out behind Azriel with a great shudder.

There’s a lance of dull pain, a discomfort like a pulled muscle, but even that cannot keep the wide smile from blooming across Azriel’s lips. “Ko-kaw’eloi made me my wings?”

Zebedee’s face is alight from the inside with pride. He’s kept his body still, but his own wings quiver as if longing to join in. “Made your wings—your soul, Azriel. That is something that cannot, will not be broken because it is not of this world’s to break.”

“I am made of stronger things.” He whispers to himself.

“Our guidance, our compass, our birthright. Remember them, b'nee. Even when there is discomfort, even when there is pain they are watching, and they know each and every piece of you because we are a part of them.”

The night wanes on, a slow march of stars—Ko-kaw’eloi, Azriel calls them fondly in his head—across the blanket of heavens and Zebedee sends him to bed. His mother had disappeared from her chair in the corner, he doesn’t know when and doesn’t care to search her out right now.

Instead he says goodnight to Zebedee, a respectful bow of his head, and when Zebedee nods back he scampers off to his little room. He’s held tonights revelations in his hands like cupped water, and he’s trying hard not to spill. When he gets to his room, he closes the curtain that cuts him off from the main room and clambers up onto the piled furs that make his bed. His wings fluttering behind him like they’ve had life breathed into them. His face presses against the cold glass pane of his window; eager, bright eyes looking up at the spread of stars and feeling Zebedee’s story, his sincerity sink into his skin.

He falls asleep that way. Cheek pressed to glass, his breaths fogging the window, and his scarred, bandaged hand clutching the fabric of his tunic over his chest.

The stars never waver.

~///~

It’s years later, Azriel hardly remembers what it was like to be tweleve because he’s eighteen—there is only eighteen and everything that comes after.

There was, however, time between the two and change that swept in like a particularly vengeful wind. A comet with bright, auburn hair, golden eyes the spitting embers of a fire, and a trickster mouth crashed into his life one chilled winter’s day.

Eris had swept into his life, little and careful though it was, with such ease Azriel can’t remember a time he wasn’t there.

They’ve intertwinted their lives now; to the point where removing one would rip apart the other. Their connection runs deep, straight into secrecy and with every word and look dipping into the waters of something more.

Azriel wonders about it, keeping his hand over his eyes to shade them from the beaming afternoon sun as he sits on the crest of a golden hill. Eris lays beside him on his front, back bare as the contours and dips of bone and muscle glint with a thin sheen of sweat. Azriel swallows hard, his mouth dry. His eyes are drawn to the spread of bare skin, even if he keeps pulling his gaze away it strays right back to the little spot at the base of Eris’s spine—two dimples right above the hem of his trousers.

“I thought Illyrian summers were more temperate than this. I’m being baked like a particularly pale potato.” Eris grumbles where his head his pressed to his folded arms. His mouth is pinched, eyes squinted up at Azriel.

Azriel laughs, and without a word unfolds his wing like a sheet and adjusts it to shadow Eris. “Better?” He asks. “I don’t know how I ever thought you were from the Summer Court, your heat tolerace is worse than mine.”

“It’s not my fault the sun has a vendetta against me—I’m too pale for it’s attention, Azriel, it’ll cook me alive.”

“And here I thought you were getting used to it so I wouldn’t have to hear your complaining every summer.”

“Oh hush, you love my whining, it brings joy and substance to your life. Where would you be if I wasn’t here to verbally protest how hot it was? You would never know without my complaints and then you’d be roasted like a duck on a spit and everyone would throw a sad funeral for you because I wasn’t there to tell you how hot it was.”

Azriel smiles down at him, crooked, his teeth biting into his lower lip to keep the laugh he feels bubbling up from bursting out. Eris talks like no one he’s ever met, ever known. He’s blustering and proud, sharply witty and yet he can have these spells of absolute nonsense that makes Azriel want to fold up next to him with a stick and keep prodding to see how ridiculous he can become.

“Roasted duck sounds good right now.” Azriel says, his gaze trained on Eris.

His cheeks are pink, freckles stark in contrast against his pale skin. The heat, as much as Eris hates it, loves him. He’s a blush color, like the tall stemmed, small five-petal flowers that hug the steppe floor. It rises in paint strokes along the tops of his shoulders, the bridge of his nose to his cheeks, and, strangely, the very tips of his ears. Maybe in some places the sun has kissed him a little too hard, he’s sure he’s burned at least slightly—yet still Azriel can’t help but think he wears the color well.

Eris snorts. “With some lemon and herbs—”

“Rice and spices, I think you mean.”

“Do you wish for me to perish from burning? Is that what your grand plan is?”

Azriel leans back on his palms, smirking. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Heathen.” Eris grumbles. One of his arms comes out from under his head and he swats at Azriel’s exposed flank.

“Ah,” he tuts, wagging a finger, “I wouldn’t abuse your only shade from the sun.” Threateningly, his extended wing shudders as if he’s about to fold it to his back.

Eris scrambles closer to Azriel, eyes wide. “Wait—no, no need for that. I will eat your fire food, no problem. Do not move your wing, I beg.”

“And your tongue will fall out of your mouth, it will be so hot, and I will be forever spared from your whining.” He deadpans, keeping his wing extended.

Eris grins up at him, boyish and charming, his chin resting on his folded hands. “Only for you, dear bat.”

“Lucky me.” Azriel says, quieter than intended.

A pause falls on them, comfortable and warm. The slight breeze rustles through the grass, a lock of Eris’s rich red copper hair falls into his eyes—he crosses them looking at it.

Azriel huffs a laugh, hardly thinking about it when his hand comes up and his fingers gently tuck the stray strand behind the point of his ear. Eris’s eyes snap to his, his body frozen for a moment before he melts under the attention, the touch.

Azriel doesn’t move his hand.

It’s his feet dipping into those shores of something more, this time, and Eris seems to be egging him on from a couple feet away, eyes bright and mischief in the curve of his pink lips.

His breath shudders out of him, trapped in his lungs, as his fingers curl gently around his ear. It’s so strange, the difference; round and simple, pointed and elegant. It’s even stranger how such a small difference denotes a much larger one between the two of them.

Eris doesn’t push him away, just keeps his sunlit eyes trained on him like the barn cats that wait on the beams or in the corners. So Azriel decides to indulge.

His hand sweeps over the curve, down his ear where the scarred pads of his fingertips meet the tender, warm skin of his neck. They land on his pulse, and Azriel has to inhale deeply at the quick tempo, the hard pound of it against his. Eris hasn’t moved, but he softens slightly, drawing in a quick breath as Azriel continues on. Mapping, tracing, wandering.

“You have freckles.” It slips out—low and hoarse, a secret dragged out blinking in the harsh light of day. He feels the heat of a flush against his cheeks, down his neck and chest. “I mean—of course you do, I just didn’t know if they…” He snaps his mouth shut.

Eris grins into the bare skin of his forearm, eyes glinting. “If they…are everywhere?”

“Yes.” Azriel grits out. His eyes have wandered past where his hand stopped and now rest on the curve of his spine, the jut of his hips and—lower.

“Hm.” Eris hums, and leaves it at that.

Azriel’s gaze flicks to his, pinned with a look in his hazel eyes shadowing a much deeper want that remains unspoken.

“Are they?” He asks bluntly. Eris shouldn’t be so surprised anymore, after all the very beginning of their aquaintence turned friendship started mostly because Azriel was blunt and cut through all of Eris’s frilly, verbal avoidance.

Eris sucks in a sharp breath, a shiver trickling down his spine. “Yes.”

Azriel’s eyes darken. Suddenly, looking is not enough.

He asks, “may I?” as his fingers brush against Eris’s thundering pulse, pinky twitching where it rests lower, near his collar bone—foretelling the journey his hand wants to take. Eris nods, lips parted. “Yes.” He says again, and Azriel can’t help the swoop in his stomach like being buffeted by a strong wind on a cliff when it comes out breathy—needy.

He needs nothing more than that, so trains his entire focus on the expanse of porcelain, freckled skin and the path his hand takes down the warm skin of his neck, to the dip of his collar bone he swirls around, and then to the plane of his shoulders, the corded muscles of his back.

Every inch of him is speckled with little marks and tan dots. Clustered together and spread apart, darker and lighter; every one Azriel wants to map and trace and keep.

His hand lays flat against the dip in Eris’s spine, skin to skin, and it’s unbearably warm—more than the sun. “It looks like the stars imprinted on you.”

Eris hums, comfortable and molten beneath him. It’s not a hum of derision, but one that gently nudges, ‘tell me more.’

“There’s this thing we have in our culture—I guess you could call it a religion, but it’s much simpler than that.” His fingers caress the knobs of Eris’s spine, up and down, following a pre-ordained trail he feels was made solely for him.

“We, Illyrian’s, are made of the stars. We call them Ko-kaw’eloi, the ‘stars divine’. We are part of them, and they have gifted us our wings—they watch over us. Our struggles and our joy, our sorrows and laughter. There’s some who really only worship the stars because they feel cast aside by the whole idea of the Mother, but most worship because they know what they were made of. Made for.”

As if in a trance, Azriel traces circles around clusters of freckles, like he would knots of stars in the sky.

“Ko-kah-ehlohi?” Eris tries out, the Illyrian prounciation missed slightly with his sharp tongue. Azriel’s stomach jolts hearing his mother tongue come from Eris’s lips—swallowing hard.

“Koh-kaw-elo-i.” He corrects softly.

Eris’s brows furrow, and Azriels hand comes down to smooth it out with his thumb before returning to it’s place on his back. “Ko-kaw’eloi.”

“Mhm.”

“Can I say that’s beautiful? I don’t particularly enjoy religion, or really anything to do with the orgin of Fae and what mastermind, resentful, immortal beings had to puppet my miserable life. But that, that is beautiful.” Eris says softly.

Azriel smiles, a gentle breeze ruffling the feathery, raven locks of his hair. “Thank you, Eris.”

Eris nods, then falls quiet. It’s a pensive sort of silence, one where Eris falls still because his mind has done the opposite. Azriel waits patiently, keeping his hand brushing up and down, swirling and stroking the bare skin of his back. He knows Eris will say whatever he’s figuring out right now, it takes a minute sometimes, especially for personal things. Azriel doesn’t mind. Right now he’s just basking in a glow of companionship and warmth, he’s wholly content, time itself could stop and Azriel would thank it.

Eventually, Eris takes a sharp breath—like he’s pushing himself to say whatever he needs to before he closes back up. Azriel keeps his eyes on Eris, who meets them with hesitation. His fingers dig into the grass below him.

“The night before I met you for the first time, I prayed to the stars. I wanted—I needed freedom, and I asked for it.” He says.

Azriel goes still, balanced on the razor edge of the intensity burning in Eris’s golden eyes.

He doesn’t look away. “And the very next day, like some great cosmic prank, I met you. You showed me this,” he waves a hand around, gesturing to the endless, rolling hills and plains of the Illyrian steppes. “And I have since been afraid that at any moment all of it would be taken from me.”

“What changed?” The words rips out of him.

Eris looks up at him, swallowing hard. “Ko-kaw’eloi gave you your freedom,” Azriel’s wings flutter as if they know he’s talking about them. “Perhaps they could let me keep mine.”

“Eris,” Azriel’s plea is raw, wanting, and his hand jumps to his chin, lifting it gently so Eris has no choice but to meet his eyes.

“I am part of them, they are part of me. I swear on both that you can keep me, if I can keep you.”

Eris’s eyes turn molten, his mouth twitches and his bottom lip brushes Azriel’s thumb. “Is that even a question?” He breathes.

Azriel supposes not. The certainty of knowing the sun will set and rise, the moon will wane and wax, the fields with grow and die sets into his bones like steel. No, it’s not a question, it’s a promise and Azriel doesn’t intend to ever break it—not if the Ko-kaw’eloi keep watch.

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

B'nee - 'My boy/son'

Ko-kaw'eloi - 'Stars divine'

Alrighty cool second day is posted! Had this idea bouncing around in my head of Illyrian lore, and thought it would be cool to tie in "familiars". Not just the form of a divine being looking out for their charge but also in the more common form "familiar", being known and having a close association to. Anyway, lol this one was a little longer than planned but eh who cares <3.

#azris #azriel x eris #azrisweek2024 #babys second azris day fic lets gooooo #this one is one of my favorites so far #which is wild bc when i first looked at the prompt i was b l a n k.

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certifieddorianandcassiansimp · 7 months ago

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It’s time.

it’s Azris week bitches. Here we go.

Day one: contrasts

@azrisweek

here’s my commission for contrasts

One from complete cold and darkness with a family found. One who grew up in the sun but with a broken family. One future high lord, one lesser faerie. One with brute strength and many visible scars, one with cunning and scars more hidden.

they are opposites and I loved drawing this because of it.

reblogs appreciated, no reposts

#acotar #sjmaas #acomaf #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #eris vanserra #eris acotar #azriel x Eris #azris #azrisweek2024 #eris x azriel #illyrian babies #future high lord #azriel vanserra #azris supremacy

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unanswered-stars · 8 months ago

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How did I only have two WIP last week and now I have 7?

What did I do…

Good news is my next chapter for Shadows of Regret and Redemption is 2/3 written so should be up in the next few days

My next fic will still be the continuation of @the-moth-writes Heaven Help the Fool Who Falls in Love this is my precious baby and I love it so much. So excited to share this one with you guys once I finish SoR&R

Tags have some hints at what my new WIP will involve when I have time to write them fully

#I’m never going to finish these #to many ideas and not enough time #brain thinks faster than my fingers can type #acotar #azris #eris vanserra #vanserra brothers #tamlin #lucien vanserra #tarquin #baby bat boys #no HEA #no love just vibes and friendship #oneshot

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areyoudreaminof · 1 year ago

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King Under Your Control-An Azris Playlist

It's the final entry to the ACOTAR Playlist Project? Can you believe?!

I wanted to finish with a bang. Azris, the crackship to end them all. I'm also of the opinion that Azris has some of the best writers in this fandom, and this playlist is for them. This tracklist was inspired by all of the art and fics I've been blown away by. @iftheshoef1tz, @ofduskanddreams, @secret-third-thing, and @krem-does-stuff specifically. But there are too many to name.

LISTEN HERE and take a look at the tracklist behind the cut!

King-Years & Years

I was a king under your control And, oh, oh, oh I wanna feel like you've let me go, so let me go Don't you remember how I used to like Being on the line? I dreamed you dreamed of me calling out my name Is it worth the price?

Zephyrus-Bloc Party

And all you said in your quietest voice Was "I needed you as much as they do" And all you said in your quietest voice Was "I needed you as much as they do" How fast must we run before we can just take off in flight? How far must we run before they do not recognise us? So let's take this from the start, you'll be me and I'll be you

Casanova-Allie X & VERITE

I'm here lying on the bed of your tongue My heart listens to the sound of your war drum Steady tiptoeing to your neck of the woods I feel danger on your lips but it tastes good

Sex and Violence-Scissor Sisters

Everytime I spend myself it never runs too low Woah, woah, woah I can't escape my need for

Sex and violence Never let you see them hand in hand One is with the other The softest touches deeper than the ocean Give it to me faster, feel it, feel it

NEW MAGIC WAND-Tyler the Creator

Ayo, take one look in the mirror, implications so clear I live life with no fear, except for the idea That one day you won't be here I will not fetch the ball Eyes are green, I eat my vegetables

Ties-Years & Years

And you're a dancer, well, I'm a spy It's so beautiful to see you lie Are you having fun? Then give it up, you don't need that stress You're still hungry for another test Are you having fun?

Under the Sheets-Ellie Goulding

We're under the sheets and you're killin' me In our house made of paper, your words all over me We're under the sheets and you're killin' me Like all the boys before

Bad Habit-Foals

'Cause if I go Where the flowers grow Into the deep below Oh, would you forget me now? And if I could Make the days okay Wash the stains away Oh, would you forget me now?

Pink + White

That's the way every day goes Every time we've no control If the sky is pink and white If the ground is black and yellow It's the same way you showed me Nod my head, don't close my eyes Halfway on a slow move It's the same way you showed me If you could fly, then you'd feel south Up north's getting cold soon The way it is, we're on land Still, I'm someone to hold true Keep you cool when it's still alive Won't let you down when it's all ruin

Sweet Dreams-Angel Olsen

Every time I take a breath Something once living inside me has left Yes, it's alive but it's just passed through It's just left me and it's just left you On your own

Only He Can Heal Me-Bloc Party

When the trappings of the body Lead me to that hopeless place And I feel my spirit crumble Under strain and under guilt Lay me down in rivers cleansing Where the tall grass grows and grows And let me wait until My saviour comes home

In My Room-Frank Ocean

Got this lust for life in me, yeah Horny for the game, uh First they kiss, then they bite soft, uh Then that bitch wanna play it off, huh Fuck it, I'm pretty still in a pit of snakes While serpents shake some brand new scales I need a new face, I'm tired of these weirdos

Wolf Like Me-TV on the Radio

Dream me, oh, dreamer, down to the floor Open my hands and let them weave onto yours Feel me, completer, down to my core Open my heart and let it bleed onto yours Feeding on fever, down on all fours Show you what all the howling is for

Genghis Khan-Miike Snow

I know there's no form And no labels to put on To this thing we keep And dip into when we need And I don't have the right To ask where you go at night But the waves hit my head To think someone's in your bed

Magnets-Disclosure

Dancing past the point of no return Let go, we can free ourselves of all we've learned I love this secret language that we're speakin' Say it to me, let's embrace the point of no return

I’m Done with the World (& It’s Done with Me)-Foals

The fox is dead in the garden The hedges are on fire in the country lanes And all I want to do is get out of the rain An autumn day, an autumn day My daughter's asleep in the garden The leaves are on fire in the country lanes And all I want to do is get out of the rain On an autumn day, on an autumn day I’m done with the world and it’s done with me All I wanna do is get up and leave Sun falls into the garden I’m on my knees

TAGLIST: @iftheshoef1tz @ofduskanddreams @krem-does-stuff @secret-third-thing @queercontrarian @born-to-riot @yanny-77 @acourtofladydeath @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @chunkypossum @thelovelymadone @velidewrites @octobers-veryown @asnowfern

#azris #acotar playlist project #last one baby #Spotify

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iftheshoef1tz · 7 months ago

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get you a bestie who surprises you with two of your favorite characters from one of your fics for your birthday and doesn’t murder you for forgetting to upload it even when you said you would

ANYWAY GIVE IT UP FOR @queercontrarian!!! I’m so lucky to call you my friend. thank you for the tiktoks and your incredible sense of humor. 🩷

#howl #LOOK AT MY BABIES #azris

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born-to-riot · 3 months ago

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You're doing great honey! I'm new to all this, so let's explore your gift together. Let's put our boys through some shit! I'm feeling like Eris is a courtier who gets more and more intrigued with Azriel, Rhysand's loyal (and slightly beaten down) dog. How sad do you want it? Would you like a HEA? Are you interested in canon era, post canon, or AU?

I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING EITHER BUT LET'S WORK TOGETHER!

- 🎅🏻

IM HAPPY TO GO THROUGH THIS TOGETHER

Let’s put them through the wringer

I also really see Eris observing Azriel like hmmm and yes broken down guard dog ahhhh

I’m interested in canon era or post canon, I like it when I can actually see it happening within Prythian and all the obstacles that their circumstances bring upon them

Okay THIS IS A HARD FOR ME because I love it when they struggle to get through, I love angst but I also am weak and want azris to end up together (so happy ending only in the sense of Azris being together at the end) the rest of Prythian or whatever friendships be damned ya know.

Like I want you to break me apart and throw me back together again. I love when the pain comes from different loyalties and the slow realization that ‘I am loyal to Eris now’ (or Azriel) ya get me

AGAIN FEEL FREE TO HIT UP MY INBOX ANYTIME BECAUSE SANTA I HAVE NO IDEA IF I AM ANSWERING YOUR QUESTIONS

#santa baby #secret santa #secret santa 2024 #acotar #azris

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acourtofladydeath · 2 years ago

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I'm once again late, but I'm still here!!! For @azrisweek Day 7 I've posted Chapter 1 of my newest fic "And So Our Life Begins".

After years of being together in secret, Azriel and Eris are finally able to be open about their relationship and accept the bond at the mating ceremony they've always dreamed of. They embark together on the wonderful journey that is fatherhood, and end up with a brood of smoke hounds and red headed, freckled, winged bat babies. As their children grow up, Azriel is forced to face his own feelings about his Illyrian heritage when they begin to ask him questions about training and the Blood Rite.

Chapter 1: "Forever Starts Tomorrow" covers the night before the mating ceremony, when Azriel and Eris each spend time with their families and bake their mating ceremony offerings.

The fic is currently planned for 8 chapters, with the possibility of more if the right inspiration hits!

#i love them so much #finally some happiness for these boys #azris week 2023 #azris #azris fanfiction #azriel #eris vanserra #azris supremacy #azrisweekd7 #Illyrian babies #fatherhood #acotar #acosf #AU in which artificial insemination is a thing Madja can do #my work #my fic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 writing

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the-lonelybarricade · 2 years ago

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There's so little Azris I'm gonna beg for anything

I've been a long time reader but this is my first time actually writing them and I'm admittedly nervous 🥺👉👈 but I hope it makes you all feel as unhinged as I felt writing it

“I’ll kill you,” Azriel swore, tasting blood as he choked on his own desire. It crawled along his chest, up his throat, and to his cheeks. Would Eris be able to see it, would he know that Azriel wasn’t flushing in anger?

“Says the male on his knees,” Eris hummed.

#It's uhhh #It's fairly dubcon for baby's first Azris #I don't know what got into me #Azris

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shadowsandlint · 3 months ago

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PERFECTION!!

“Hear me and come back …“

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Really not letting go of the lake visual 😤

#my babies #i love them so much #azris #azriel x eris #eris vanserra #azriel acotar

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itsswritten · 21 days ago

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Earth's Song

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 795 (she's a drabble)

Warnings: Difficult birth is briefly mentioned no major details though.

Summary: Fairies are made for the wind & sun <3

Wings Masterlist

You could see it, just beyond the archway. Only a step away, the golden streams of rays filtering over the flowers. The breeze, a scent of fresh grass, pollen and peonies filling your senses– so close you could almost taste it. The melody of the earth was calling to you, its creatures and plants singing in a verse only you could hear upon your arrival. Your lips tugged into a gentle smile across your tired expression.

Oh you had missed this.

A soft gurgle pulled you from your musings, your gaze settling down on the little bundles that were swaddled to your front. Your babes, twin sons. Only weeks old. Could they hear it too? The earth's music? it’s song, it’s heartbeat– you were sure they could. Certain they felt it in their bones just like you.

“Isn’t it wonderful..”, you whispered to them, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on the tops of their heads. Wefts of hair as dark as their fathers atop, and their scent so inexplicably yours and his.

“My love…” Azriel spoke, an ache in his tone that seemed consistent with any action you did nowadays. You had tried to step forward, feet moving past the tiles of the River House subconsciously into the outside that was calling you–calling your sons too. Any action you seemed to make these past few weeks only made your mates heart lurch.

“Azriel…” your tone was gentle but firm, your free hand subconsciously rubbing the backs of your babes who were nuzzled against your chest. Their eyes slowly opened and closed under the gentle glow of the sun that reached within the doorway of the house. “I want to– need to feel the earth,” you replied.

It had been several weeks since you had been outside, several weeks since you brought your baby boys into this world. The birth had been difficult. A thought you didn’t want to dwell on, but something you knew was still very prevalent as you felt your mate's supportive hand press against the small of your back. His free hand still looped with your arm for stability.

It had taken a great deal of convincing for him to bring you here, to let your boys experience the world beyond the safety of the house walls. Azriel, ever the protective Shadowsinger, had been beside himself when he’d almost lost you. The birth of your twins—Illyrian-winged miracles born of a meadow faerie—had been far from easy. The ordeal had left you in a deep, unnatural slumber, robbing you of those precious first days with your sons. It was a cruel twist of fate, one that left you fragile in body and spirit. Even the sacred traditions of your kind had been set aside in the wake of it all.

And well, Azriel’s protectiveness had grown to a level you didn’t know was possible. You understood though. Didn’t blame him; if the roles were reversed, if you’d almost lost him, you weren’t sure what kind of person you’d become in the aftermath. But you were still here. Healing, growing stronger with every passing day.

So you convinced him, explained to him how fairies were made for the wind and sun, your boys, despite only being half of you– needed this too.

You watched as your mate hesitated, bringing you this far had gone against every instinct he had, but as he gazed into your reassuring smile he nodded. Gently moving with you, each step at a time. Your bare feet feeling the soft grass under your pads. The sensation sent a shiver through your body and as you began to ground yourself tears filled your eyes.

The evening sun basked it’s golden hour upon your skin, it’s rays warming your flesh in a way you hadn’t felt in weeks. You had missed this.

Your babes stirred softly, their tiny forms swaddled snugly against your chest. Their warmth grounded you further. You inhaled deeply, the scent of the flowers and the earth beneath your feet blending with the faint sweetness of your sons.

Azriel’s wings rustled softly behind you as he stepped closer, his shadowed presence a constant comfort as you let yourself lean back against him. You glanced up at him, your tear-filled eyes meeting his gaze, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

Wordlessly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead, his gaze moving to his sons pressed against you with a tenderness that made your chest ache. “I love you– I love you all so much,” he whispered, voice rough with emotion.

Your smile was the only reply he needed. Your expression looking fuller than it had done in weeks. And then you hummed, eyes closed as you harmonised along to the earth’s song.

a/n: a little wings drabble, our first snippet at seeing the baby boys...which yes I've finally landed on names. Introducing...Rune & Rain <3

wings universe: @minaethrym @megscabinetofcurios @scorpioriesling @dottedhalfnotes

Permanent taglist: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria @writingcroissant @searchingforbucky

#wings universe #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel x fairy #fairy x azriel #fairy reader x azriel

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