talibunny30

[talibunny30]

Fading

Pairing: Eris x Azriel

Summary: The light in him had died out, but he could not allow himself to break.

A/N: They always knew.

Also on AO3

Singer. Singer. Singer.

Azriel opened his eyes, startled. In the silence of the night, the voices sounded clear and desperate. It had been many years since they had last spoken to him so urgently. And this was the first time they had woken him.

He automatically stood up from the bed and Truth-teller materialised in his scarred hand.

What's wrong? he asked, communicating in a way that only they could understand.

Seek the fire, Lord. Seek the flame. Seek the king of masks.

This surprised him. The Fire Lord? What was going on with Eris? It had been two weeks since he last saw him, and that one touch still made him feel too big for his own skin. He had avoided thinking about Eris by training with Cassian every day until he was exhausted, then assisting with the training of the legions in Illyria until he had no magic left and his shadows had to return him home. To a sleeping Elain with one hand extended over his place in bed, as if she had waited all night for Azriel. Guilt made him curl up and hug her. Then he would lie awake until exhaustion took pity on him and plunged him into an uneasy sleep.

But something deep in his chest, a gut feeling, told him he should listen to the shadows. They were part of him; they had senses that he lacked and ears in every corner of Prythian. Without questioning them, he rose to winnow to the Autumn Court.

To his surprise, once he arrived, the shadows enveloped his body and materialised him inside the Forest House. He was standing in front of Eris's room, he knew this despite never having been there before.

Azriel could hear laboured breathing and the sound of an object falling to the floor. Before he knew it, he was moving towards the room in front of him. Eris was standing a few feet away from the open window, as if he had entered through it not too long ago. His body was bent over, one hand clutching his stomach, and the head of an arrow lay a few feet away on the floor. He was bleeding. A strange darkness clung to him, similar to Azriel's shadows, but not the same.

However, he didn't have time to examine it. In fact, he hadn't even taken a step towards Eris when he looked up, and in that instant, his world was turned upside down.

Something happened: a kind of magic more powerful and ancient than anything else. He heard a crack and felt something shift inside him, or rather, snap into place. A golden thread —perfect, firm and immovable— had just intertwined his soul with Eris Vanserra's. His eyes opened wide.

The panic that flooded him was numbing. Moreover, he was shocked to notice that his mate didn't look surprised. In fact, he already knew; he could see it in the sudden stiffness of his posture, and in the way he was now gripping his chest with his crimson-stained hand. Since when? Questions swirled in his mind as he tried to process what was happening. His shadows had left him to wrap themselves around Eris, trying to analyse the wounds.

"Go away." Eris growled, standing up with shaking legs and blood streaming down his face.

Azriel was frozen. His body would not obey him. His mate. The High Lord of Autumn was his mate. Eris. His enemy, his ally and the thorn in his side for over five hundred years. How was this possible?

"GO. NOW!" Eris commanded, his voice carrying the authority of a High Lord.

The shadows protested, practically rebelling against him, but Azriel couldn't think; sheer fear was taking over until he was almost hyperventilating. Before he could react, his body was winnowing back to the Night Court.

His shadows were enraged and spoke in a hundred voices, young and old, deep and soft. Mistake. He had made a terrible mistake.

*******

He couldn't go home. Not to the small, two-storey house he shared with Elain. His wife.

Azriel had a wife, and his mate knew it.

He could barely breathe when he landed in front of the cabin, hidden away in the mountains of Illyria. He took no more than a couple of steps before emptying the contents of his stomach onto the snow. He used his wings to keep his balance and prevent himself from falling to the ground. Stumbling blindly over his own feet, he opened the door and crossed the threshold. The house's magic automatically lit the fireplace, filling it with a gentle flame. Azriel paid no attention.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

The chorus in his ears was driving him mad. But were they his shadows, or was it just him remembering every interaction he'd had with Eris in the last five hundred years? He wanted to revolt against this news, to be able to claim it was a trick, a ploy to mess with his mind. But deep down, he knew it was true. He could feel it in his bones and in the space between his ribs, tugging and protesting at being away from Eris.

Memories kept dancing in his mind, taunting him with every detail and searing every word they had exchanged and every interaction into his very being.

Amber eyes staring at him through thick, coppery lashes. Eris stoically enduring every cruel word and each literal and metaphorical blow. The times he had responded, and the thousand and one occasions on which, over time, Autumn's High Lord's hostility had practically ceased to exist, giving way to what he could now only understand as a resigned acceptance of the whole situation.

There was one specific incident that made a dreadful chill run down his back. Azriel rubbed his cold, sweaty forehead, trying to breathe evenly, despite the fact that he was shivering and feeling consumed by guilt. He remembered the High Lords' meeting from some years ago. Eris had looked almost resigned to die by his hand. As if he were at peace with that outcome. He felt sick. He had hurt him; at that moment, he had wanted to hurt him.

Everything he had done was unforgivable.

Right your wrongs, Singer.

But he wasn't sure if he could.

Divs by @olenvasynyt ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Azris tag lists (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @talibunny30, @ejkreader, @disney-acotar-hp, @aleksandra25cracow, @wovendreamscapes

[talibunny30]

thank you Canada 🇨🇦

[talibunny30]

Am I happy today?

What does it mean, even, to hold one feeling for an entire waking day --

As if existence were ever anything but an unending game of moment to moment boons and banes,

a fight of highs, and lows, and torturous middle grounds, stretching on and on into nothing, forever.

Am I happy today?

Maybe, sometimes, in the little moments between the bigger things.

We are fleeting creatures, full of fleeting thoughts and fickle feelings,

living on borrowed, and even worse, false, time.

It's okay that I'm not happy, today.

I'll take what I can get, really --

appreciate the good, and too, the bad.

Wallow, maybe, in the middle sometimes.

Why stress over a day, when I can just live it?

V. Rue, 2025.

[talibunny30]

Building up the Eris I've used in the Leviathan, Bound header. Willow charcoal, soft chalk pastel.

I've drawn a lot of Eri but this one is my favorite so far. I used a model called Ton Heukels who's the wrong colouring but often the right essence:

See what I mean?

Apologies to you tag friends who've already seen this, am being repetitious :)

@g00seg1rl @pippsmcgee @greenvelvetcouture @the-darkestminds @jules-writes-stories @fourteentrout @mistandmemories @nus4y @chunkypossum @buffy-vanserra @molcat07 @talibunny30 @neciebee @thesourcabbage @brunetterebel010 @irithiadourden @sonics-atelier @astro-h0e-4azris @wovendreamscapes @gravitysthrall @futurehunt

[talibunny30]

That Eris last night was a false alarm. THIS is way more in line with what I wanted to do!

WIP Art by me ( @themadmorrigan ) done on Procreate on 5/14/25.

[talibunny30]

Fading

Pairing: Eris x Azriel

Summary: The light in him had died out, but he could not allow himself to break.

A/N: Hapiness is the total and absolute absense of darkness, right?

Also on AO3

Azriel reached up to kiss his wife on the forehead before leaving the house they shared on the banks of the Sidra River. As he approached her, his shadows scattered, seeking out the darkness. They couldn't seem to stand Elain's light; it was probably too bright for them. He grinned. She was also too bright for him, but that didn't matter. After all, that was love, wasn't it? Someone who lit up your life completely and left no room for darkness.

As always, Elain wished him a good day with a sweet, gentle smile before returning to the garden. It was the time of year when he planted roses; the mild chill of the Night Court was a perfectly suitable climate for it.

He was prolonging the inevitable. As much as he wanted to evade his responsibilities, he had to go to that meeting, as he did every other week. Eris, now High Lord of Autumn, was awaiting to share information about Koschei with him, and hopefully he had something that could be used to their advantage. His spies had informed him that the Lordling was spending a lot of time in the Forest House library and had even visited Helion. Unlike other times, however, he was not accompanied by Lucien. This was curious. Lately Lucien had been clinging to his older brother like a puppy. Had it been a secret visit?

As he travelled to their rendezvous point in the heart of Autumn's forest, his shadows enveloped him again, clinging to his skin and buzzing with what he could have sworn was anticipation. Recently, they had become more unruly than ever before. Even as a teenager, they had never behaved like this.

Once he arrived at his destination, Azriel looked up and his eyes were immediately drawn to the magnificent figure a few feet away. Eris Vanserra was the most fae creature he had ever met: handsome in that unearthly way that humans found terrifying. He had pointed ears wrapped in gold and a sharp, fanged smile that promised danger. His broad shoulders gave way to a narrow waist, and his legs seemed to go on forever in that dark green attire typical of his court. Unconsciously, the shadowsinger clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. As he did so, the silver band around his ring finger anchored him to the present; it felt heavy, as if it were made of a material that prevented his mind from wandering. Azriel took a deep breath. It was a mistake, because as his nostrils flared, he could smell autumn leaves mixed with preticor, spice, leather and smoke.

“I'll be brief, Shadowsinger-”

"What were you doing with Helion?" came the abrupt and rude interruption. He was usually able to maintain his coolness for a little longer, but for some reason, he felt frustrated this time. He wanted to get home as soon as possible.

His shadows didn't agree, however, as they slithered across the forest floor and through the leaves at Eris's feet, with one even landing on the collar of his shirt. What on earth was wrong with them?

Eris gave him a look that would have made a lesser male shudder. But not Azriel. He wasn't afraid of the High Lord, despite knowing that he could probably use his fire to punish him for his insolence. In reality, though, he never seemed to mind that Azriel didn't address him with the respect someone of his rank deserved.

“Since when do I have to report my every move to the Night Court?” Eris raised an eyebrow, his regal posture unyielding. He almost looked bored. That pissed Azriel off even more.

“Looking for someone to warm your bed? Or do you have something to hide?"

He'd hit a nerve. It was evident in the way his poorly restrained fury made Eris's hair seem to come alive, as if it were made of flames; in the way his eyes burned like embers. His fury made him glow. The shadows didn't hide from his light. Instead, it was as if they danced in the darkness that the flames were casting. They seemed thrilled to see the fire burning.

"Watch your tongue. I don't need an excuse or a reason to meet with the other High Lords, and the matters I was discussing are none of your business or your court."

Eris let the lie roll off his tongue as if it were nothing. Azriel had once again managed to get under his skin and he was finding it difficult to keep his composure. The sight of Azriel —perfect, unfazed and unchanging— playing with the ring on his finger as if he couldn't wait to get back to his wife, made bile rise in Eris's throat. And the Shadowsinger reeked of wildflowers and honey, a cloying scent that masked his usual aroma of cedar and night dew.

He felt sick.

"Here's your report. You don't need to come in again until next month. I'm going to be too busy." Eris slammed the parchment against his chest.

Two things happened at the same time in that instant. Azriel placed his hand on the High Lord's, out of reflex. For his part, Eris felt the world stop for a fleeting moment. The last time Azriel had touched him was at the High Lords' meeting years ago when he had choked him.

Eris pulled his hand away as if the touch had burned him. Yet it was Azriel who felt every nerve ending in his body come alive. Their eyes met for a split second.

Then Autumn's High Lord disappeared.

Azriel could notice his shadows lingering in the spot where Eris had been standing, as if they could still taste his warmth even though he was no longer there.

Divs by @olenvasynyt ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

Azris tag lists (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @talibunny30, @ejkreader, @disney-acotar-hp, @aleksandra25cracow, @wovendreamscapes

[talibunny30]

I am haunted by the ghosts of my own creation. Yes, I cried a little. No, I don't know why I did this. Please mind the tw!

Pairing: Azriel/Eris

Tw: death, mourning.

Also on AO3

Azriel looked so young, much younger than the twenty-seven years he had spent in this world. His black hair was a bottle of ink spilled over once sun-kissed skin that now looked ashen. There was no trace of the hazel eyes that had known how to be the beacon that kept Eris grounded in reality, in the hope that things would work out.

Freckled ivory hands trembled as they held a single white chrysanthemum, not daring to rest it on the chest that would not rise, that would never again move to the rhythm of outrageous, shameless, free laughter. Eris didn't understand how it was possible, but tears had been streaming down his cheeks for hours. No amount of crying would make the wound that bled the name of his beloved stop hurting. Deep in his soul, he knew it would remain with him forever, a shadow tangled in his heart.

Someone had been calling to him, repeating words as if trying to reach him. A person —was it Lucien?— tried to hold him as they were about to close the coffin. How dare they? How dare they take him away when he would never be ready to let go? His knees trembled, but he got to his feet and followed whoever was carrying on his shoulders the only thing close to home he'd ever had.

Homesick and broken. Each step was like climbing a mountain. And the wind whispered all the promises they had made to each other between the sheets, talking in hushed murmurs late into the night, sleeping only when the first rays of dawn told them that the time for wishful thinking and magic was over. What would he do now, with all the love that was Azriel's alone? How could he tell his body that he would never feel his warmth again? No, no, no.

Meanwhile, he clung to the sapphire necklace that had rested near his beloved's heart, as if it could let him hear his heartbeat once more, perhaps store it so that it could offer him a melody to soothe the voices that told him it was time to go home. No one understood.

He didn't move when female arms —Nesta?— embraced him, or when someone told him he couldn't stay there. He sat in the same place until a stranger had the audacity to place a box with a small metal plate on it that read "Azriel Singer" in front of him. Angry, he gripped the stupid thing so tightly that his fingers ached, and then some.

No, Azriel was not a name on an urn of ashes. The love of his life was the air that filled his lungs, the sun that caressed his face and the only happiness he had ever known. His Azriel, it was bigger than the world and not even death would take him away because he was in Eris's veins, he was and would be his reason to open his eyes every day. Even if someone had had the courage to put the urn in his hands as if it were nothing.

At midnight in his apartment, as the shadows stretched and caressed him, he was still unable to let go of the sapphire or stop staring at the urn on his bedside table, reliving every conversation word for word. Somehow, he ended conjuring up a perfect copy of Azriel that was looking back at him, smiling and asking him to rest. In that moment Eris was certain of only one thing:

He would never be whole again. But he would always honour every second of the promise made to Azriel on that autumn day so many years ago:

"My heart is yours, forever."

Even if you're not here, Eris thought, before exhaustion took him to a kinder world. A reality where Azriel would be by his side when he woke up.

Ps: Thank you @makinglongwordsslutty for letting me use “Azriel Singer” as the full name for Az. For me it is now canon in any Au.

Azris tag lists (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @talibunny30, @ejkreader, @disney-acotar-hp, @aleksandra25cracow

[talibunny30]

Maturing is realizing

Gay crackships >>>> the motherfucking shipwar

Long Live Azris, can I get an amen?🙏

[talibunny30]

Part 2 for you @chunkypossum @the-darkestminds 😭

Fading

Pairing: Eris x Azriel

Summary: The light in him had died out, but he could not allow himself to break.

A/n: Part 2 because even with a bleeding heart, Eris is first and foremost, an older brother.

"I can't believe you were there." Lucien took another swig from the glass of oak whiskey in his hand. His eyes were fixed on a spot in the fireplace, watching the flames dance as if they could give him the answer to all his questions.

"I am the High Lord of Autumn, brother, it was a public ceremony and several allies were present. Helion was there as well."

The two were silent for a few minutes, the only sounds to be heard were when they drank or adjusted their seats.

Lucien looked like shit, and Eris was no better. It had been two months since that day, and Lucien had stayed as far away from Prythian as possible. But eventually he had to go back, he had obligations, friends, people he wanted to see again. The first stop had obviously been his brother. He would probably see Tamlin next.

Eris craned his neck back. His head was spinning and he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the lack of sleep or the beast in his chest that was never sated. And never would be.

"They looked happy." The elder Vanserra breathed after taking another swig. The burn of the alcohol was a welcome sensation in his throat.

Lucien didn't react immediately, but his hand tightened around the glass.

"I'd like to hate her. I'd like to say that I hope she's not happy and that she regrets it..."

"But you don't have the strength for that." Eris finished, knowing exactly what he meant. Although in his case the bond had never snapped for Azriel, so the pain was not equal to that of a broken bond.

Every day that passed and Lucien was still alive and in control of his faculties was a day he thanked the Mother for. He himself had had times when his mind played tricks on him.

Sometimes he wondered if, in another life, he might have done something to make it work. If there had been an Azriel who could have loved him, accepted the bond and understood all the sacrifices he had made to keep his court and his family on their feet. An Azriel who didn't think he was a monster and a coward.

But maybe he was. A coward. A better male might have tried to fight. He knew it was a lost battle from the start.

"What are you going to do about the cooperation agreements with the Night Court?" Lucien asked after another long moment of silence.

"They still stand. Nothing has changed, life goes on."

Lucien let out a bitter laugh that reflected the same dark emotions that lurked in his brother's gut.

"Yes, life goes on despite everything."

When they finished the first bottle, another followed, and for a few hours the company of someone who understood the pain the other was going through was enough. Even in his misery, Eris was far more concerned about Lucien than he was about himself, he couldn't help it.

"You'll need their help with the Koschei problem."

Eris sighed. There was one way he wouldn't need their help, but he didn't want to tell Lucien.

"You are officially dismissed from your position as Autumn's emissary," the older male replied, understanding the implication. Lucien wanted to continue acting as the liaison between the two courts, the one who would meet with Azriel to discuss information and outline the plan for the future.

Eris couldn't bear to do that to him. Not to his little brother, the only good thing left in his rotten, broken soul. Flames grew violently in the fireplace in response to Lucien's anger, but the High Lord didn't even blink.

"You can take care of me, but I have to stay on the side, knowing that you'll have to see him regularly until we find a way to defeat a damned immortal being, a god of death?"

Silence was the answer. They both knew what the alternative was: Lucien having to attend those meetings instead, smelling Elain on Azriel's skin, seeing the ring on the Shadowsinger's finger and knowing that one just like it rested on the hand he had once believed would hold his heart.

"I've been dealing with this since you were barely a fireling. My decision is final."

Lucien held his hands to his face in frustration. By the Cauldron, what had they done to deserve to be so broken? Was this their punishment for being born into this cursed family, under the yoke of a cruel monster who had tried to mould them into his own image? Did they deserve this for doing what was necessary to survive?

Without daring to say more, the youngest Vanserra placed a hand on Eris's shoulder. A gesture of comfort that was probably like trying to put out a wildfire with a drop of water, but it said more than either of them could express.

Perhaps, in time, the pain would go away. Maybe eventually they would fade away, a flicker of light swallowed up by the immensity of life.

Divs by @olenvasynyt ❤️

Ps: If anyone wants me to tag them in the next Azris drabbles, let me know.

Part 1 | Part 3

Tags: @aleksandra25cracow , @talibunny30

[talibunny30]

@chunkypossum @the-darkestminds I feel like you would enjoy this level of angst

Fading

Pairing: Eris x Azriel

A/N: It's angst hours.

Summary: The light in him had died out, but he could not allow himself to break.

It was a different kind of grief that now gripped his chest. The flames licked at his insides as if they wanted to burst out of him, tearing him apart until they consumed him completely.

His eyes had once been the color of burning embers, but now they were dimmed. Whatever had fanned them before had died when the news reached his ears. What hurt him most, or angered him, he wasn't sure, was that he knew he could do nothing. He had *nothing* to offer.

So Eris stood there in his best suit, with the dark red jacket, the same shade of dried blood as he had on the palms of his hands from pressing his fingernails against them too hard. Probably no one else noticed, but he was standing out of sheer stubbornness.

Or maybe it was masochism, depending on the point of view. He should have accepted Lucien's offer to go to the Continent with him, at least for a few days. But he was Autumn's damned High Lord, he couldn't let anything break him.

Not even the fact that his mate was about to marry Elain Archeron. That human word tasted like poison in his mouth. Marriage. She had broken the mating bond with Lucien to be with Azriel. It had been a miracle that Lucien had not succumbed to madness.

So no, Eris couldn't afford to die, even though it was the only thing that weighed on his mind when Azriel said yes, that he would take Elain as his wife.

He stayed for the whole ceremony and when it was over, he went back to Autumn. Even though his heart had remained in the Night Court, with the Shadowsinger who would never be his.

Divs by @olenvasynyt ❤️

I have nothing to say, just...angst. Mwah, mwah.

Ps: If anyone wants me to tag them in the next Azris drabbles, let me know.

Part 2 |

[talibunny30]

To Burn A Home

He used to regard them as profoundly dissimilar. Different breeds, whose blood and powers sprung from incompatible wells, separated by a chasm of station, morality and culture.

Eris heard the murmur of the forest. He heard the song of the wind. And where Azriel was bred for war—meant to be a mindless soldier, nothing else—his mate was bred to rule with cruelty.

And yet…

As the years went by, the distance between them shortened, the wall of separation crumbling, stone by painstaking stone. Eris’s cruelty took on a different hue—that of stark necessity—and all the traits Azriel had found annoying became whimsical, even silly. Products of a peculiar wit, revealed only to a select few.

There’s none of that humour on Eris’s face now. No laughter etched in the lines around his mouth or twinkle in his honey-coloured eyes. Instead, he looks peaceful. Calm. Unburdened by the ineffable grief that tears at Azriel.

Even now, he continues to conceal his inner state in public.

The chasm that used to separate them is back. Only this time, there’s no bridging it. Nothing Azriel can do to reach across. It’s strange, he thinks, seeing Eris’s freckled flesh yield to the flames. Unnatural. Like some fundamental law of nature has been broken.

He recalls the sensation of burning. Thinks that it hurt way less than this.

The wind doesn’t sing to him as he looks towards the overcast sky, stripped of colour for the occasion. Someone’s hand is placed on his shoulder, but the warmth of their skin doesn’t penetrate his leathers.

He wishes he could follow the smoke.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

This tiny drabble was the result of a word prompt, to which both @the-darkestminds and I chose violence🥲 I thought I’d share it here just for fun. Or maybe not fun. But you know…

The words were “chasm”, “ineffable”, “select”, “whimsically” (which I sort of cheated) and “peaceful”.

Let me know if you want off this tag list: @chunkypossum @olenvasynyt @g00seg1rl @greenvelvetcouture @iftheshoef1tz @ysmtttty @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @mudandmire @neciebee @nus4y @shadowsandlint @talibunny30 @makinglongwordsslutty @thesourcabbage @fourteentrout @eatsbooks

[talibunny30]

Equinox of Us

or my Azris drabble for 5-words prompt game.

It was an unusually peaceful day in Autumn. Azriel couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t have a headache from the mountain of responsibilities that came with being the High Lord’s consort and Spymaster.

The time of the Autumnal Equinox was drawing near. Around this period, even the most insufferable ministers and advisors tended to shut their mouths—perhaps out of reverence for one of the court’s most important holidays.

Eris had long ago admitted how much he loved the Autumnal Equinox. During the day, there would be a grand ball, largely diplomatic in nature. Representatives from all the courts would be invited to exchange carefully worded blessings for a prosperous year, deliver rehearsed speeches, and then lose themselves in dancing.

But the real tradition began after sunset.

Everyone dressed in costumes and masks, and the streets came alive. Children went door to door asking for treats; adults ensured everything ran smoothly while taking a rare chance to slip back into childhood themselves—donning whatever costume they fancied. That deep chasm between ages and statuses seemed to vanish. Everyone wore select masks. No one looked beneath them.

Azriel had heard about it before, but he’d never seen it for himself until he moved to Autumn.

He knew how much Eris had loved that night as a child, even if he rarely got to take part in it. Azriel sometimes wished he had the magic to return those lost years to Eris—the ones he’d spent locked inside the Forest House instead of celebrating like a normal child.

But now they were here.

Azriel peeked into their chamber and spotted Eris dressed in a bat costume. He raised a brow from the doorway, his expression clearly saying, “Are you serious right now?”

Eris caught his look and grinned whimsically, flapping the wings a few times—and then burst into laughter.

So simple. So carefree. So warm.

His laugh was unrestrained, pure, and sweet as honey.

Azriel felt an ineffable warmth spread through his chest. Love, deep and wordless.

“This isn’t what I’m wearing tonight,” Eris confessed with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“You look ridiculous,” Azriel chuckled, stepping closer and pulling him in by the waist. “And cute.”

“Disgusting,” Eris scrunched his nose in mock offense. “Say that again.”

Azriel smiled and kissed him.

Azris tag list: @aurorasleeps-27 @jules-writes-stories @mistandmemories @g00seg1rl @chunkypossum @nightsandflamess @wrraccountant @olenvasynyt @astro-h0e-4azris @iftheshoef1tz @mudandmire @jolenes-library @nus4y @talibunny30 @shadowsandlint @neciebee @fourteentrout  @the-darkestminds @makinglongwordsslutty @thesourcabbage @nocasdatsgay @sizzlingstarlightsky

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist

[talibunny30]

The View

•°○●○°••°○●○°••°○●○°•

Azriel shadow-walked to his familiar roost in the shadow of a roofline at Forest House.

His boots rested on the gutter, worn shiny from the constant rubbing of his soles over the centuries. The night was unusually peaceful, clouds scudding across the nearly full moon as he waited. His shadows concealed him deeper into the pitched roof's protection from the moon's shine.

The target window was dark and empty… until it was not.

Light blossomed in the window, illuminating the bedroom of his secret infatuation. The Spymaster quickly checked his hiding spot to ensure no light illuminated him, from talon tip to boot. He knew firsthand how complacency could lead to mistakes; a moved lamp or a new mirror could change the lighting and make even the oldest observation post obsolete.

Azriel watched as Eris leaned against his bedroom door, sagging with exhaustion. The Spymaster knew the Autumn Prince spent the day in extensive negotiations with the Spring Court and his volatile Vanserra brothers. As Azriel watched, Eris ran a hand through his fiery locks and scrubbed at his face. Letting his hand fall, the fae Lord dropped his head back, releasing the political mask that only a select few saw underneath.

Azriel was one of those few, but not because Eris allowed it. He should feel guilty about taking this choice from the oblivious object of his admiration, but he did not.

Eris moved gracefully to the center of the room, back to the window, to look in a full-length mirror. Azriel held his breath as Eris's deep green jacket slipped off to the floor, the rich fabric pooling to an undignified puddle at the Prince's feet.

Eris slowly unbuttoned his cream silk shirt, the fabric wafting and tightening at his back in breezy waves with every fastener the elegant beringed fingers released. Azriel bit his lower lip as the silk fell away to the ground in a waterfall, revealing Eris's muscled, lean, and scarred back.

Azriel's eyes swept Eris's body to ensure no new wounds or scars appeared since his last visit. His heart squeezed with ineffable anguish at finding new marks across his back, unable to protect his unknowing lover, unable to touch and care for him as he should. He sat only a few feet away, but the object of his affection might as well be across a mountain chasm; the distance uncrossable physically or emotionally, as his potential mate seemed utterly unaware of their tenuous bond.

Eris turned his body sinuously to look over his shoulder at his back, frowning at the marred surface reflected. As he gazed behind him at the mirror, his fingers trailed up and down his chest and abdominal muscles, the jewels in his rings whimsically sparking red and amber in the lamplight. Azriel swallowed hard at the sight of Eris's beautiful frame, the planes of his lean muscles playing in the light and shadows of the warm lamplight. The Spymaster tried to ignore the tightening of his leather pants as Eris's fingers lazily unlaced his tailored trousers, stepping out of them irreverently and stretching languidly.

The Autumn Prince sat at his preparatory table, looking into an unseen mirror. Azriel watched the Prince's face as the Eris gazed in the mirror, removing gold rings from his fingers, gold studs and rings from his elegantly tapered ears. He watched Eris's fiery lashes raise to gaze at the mirror, then lower against his freckled cheek as he locked the jewelry in a drawer.

Azriel's breath caught as Eris stood again and looked out the window at the moonlit night; the Spymaster enjoyed the view of his nearly naked form.

Eris's amber eyes slid to Azriel's roost, looking as if the molten gaze of his secret beloved met hazel in the dark. The Spymaster froze, not daring to breathe, and his shadows stilled in their twining dance.

He had to have faith that Eris could not see him.

Eris's lips rose in a smirk, smug and arrogant. One eyelid dropped in a wink. The prince snapped his fingers, and the bedroom lamps extinguished.

Azriel shadow-walked away deep into the forests of Autumn, hyperventilating in panic. Eris hadn't spotted him, he rationalized. He couldn’t have…

…Had he?

*****************

This was part of a word prompt exercise that turned into something fun! Words were: Chasm, ineffable, select, whimsically, and peaceful.

*****************

Tags for interested parties (please don't hesitate to let me know if you want on or off the tag list): @chunkypossum @olenvasynyt @g00seg1rl @greenvelvetcouture @iftheshoef1tz @ysmtttty @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @mudandmire @mistandmemories @neciebee @nus4y @palomita-de-la-sangre @shadowsandlint @talibunny30 @makinglongwordsslutty @thesourcabbage @fourteentrout @eatsbooks

[talibunny30]

Soft

Pairing: Azriel x Eris

Azris Word Prompt Game response! The words were chasm, ineffable, select, whimsically, and peaceful

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Traditionally, Eris Vanserra was not a soft person. Sharp eyes, as solid as the amber that colored them. Brows that were often set into severe slashes upon his forehead, upturned in a cruel, mocking way. His lips, perhaps, were soft by nature. Nicely curved, perpetually pink. Azriel found himself looking at them a lot more nowadays. 

Now that he knew what they felt like against his own. 

But even the snakish Prince's mouth usually twisted into something so sinister and self-preserving that any softness could be hidden, overshadowed. Azriel had come to find that Eris was severely calculating and painstakingly select about how he shaped his features. Sharpening himself into a poison-tipped arrow, never letting the fire inside him give the impression of something so tender as warmth. That sort of flame would be choked out in the Autumn Court. The Vanserras had to sting and slice and burn in order to survive, and Eris was entirely okay with looking like he did exactly that, and nothing more. 

There lay a chasm between that Eris and this one. The one that only Azriel's shadows seemed to bring out. 

They danced whimsically around the fireling, dancing through his long hair, curling against his pale face, cooing little praises for the male that only Azriel could hear. They cooled down Eris where his skin was still flushed and beaded with sweat. 

Eris seemed to revel in it, eyes shut gently, lips slightly upturned at the corners in a way that suggested he couldn't help it, or wasn't aware of it. He didn't look peaceful, by any means—Azriel wasn't sure the spitfire was capable of such a thing—but it was certainly an Eris that wasn't exactly as hard-edged and cunningly brutal as usual. 

Azriel swallowed thickly as he watched Eris' lift up a hand, letting the shadows twine between his pale fingers. They chittered and laughed, singing about everything that welled up in Azriel's chest and stopped before his throat. Ineffable and strange, and not at all something that should have been sparked by Eris Vanserra. And yet. 

Azriel traced Eris’ warm skin with his scarred, ungloved fingers, following the paths that his shadows excitedly ran, creating rivers of darkness against Eris’ ivory landscape. 

The Prince’s eyes slid open just enough to glance at Azriel, lazy and sated.

To prevent himself from saying something that would turn Eris into his usual sharp, unforgiving self, Azriel curled harder against the Fire Prince, and pressed a harsh kiss to the side of his neck. He received a contented hum in return, and wondered if this new sort of creature, easygoing and close to vulnerable, was something that Eris let himself become with every faerie he bedded. 

Or if perhaps, it really was just Azriel’s shadows. Something impossible to tease out that which Eris never allowed himself to become. A rarity for a rarity. 

Azriel wasn’t sure if he was falling in love with the thought, or if it scared the shit out of him. 

He decided not to think about it as Eris sank his fingers into his dark hair, mirroring the shadows that threaded through his own.

Taglist (let me know if you want on/off or if I forgot you, which I'm sort of notorious for atp):

@molcat07 @g00seg1rl @greenvelvetcouture @baileybird71 @pippsmcgee @amalhe-kofee @secret-third-thing @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @iftheshoef1tz @talibunny30 @queercontrarian @buffy-vanserra @vanserraoxygen @ejkreader @wovendreamscapes @chunkypossum @brunetterebel010

[talibunny30]

Delicate

Azriel x Eris

900 words

A little Drabble for a word prompt game.

The words were: chasm, ineffable, select, whimsically, peaceful

__________

A visitor in the night. Desires filled but never sated. Secrets, shame and unworthy claims.

*italics are lines from this song:

_____________

There was a certain grace to it. An art in how I sank down to settle against his firm and warm hips, the way I covered his eyes so he didn’t have to know, to see. Only flashes of red hair allowed in the shining moonlight so he could pretend. My skin was smooth and washed in soft, sweet-smelling oils so the illusion would hold.

Breathy sounds rose and fell from me, no heavier than the weight of a feather, tickling across his brow. My pleasure rolled against my lips, and as bitter as it tasted, I relished in the feel of it—my ineffable plan, beyond even my comprehension.

I just wanted a taste of what the wind had all to herself.

It was the most beautiful prison I had ever selected for myself.

When I was full, I would be gone, his shape fitted to me in the way I craved. It was enough. I never let myself find a way to my release until I was alone again; he didn’t need the reminder or the shame that would come after. I kept that for myself.

+++

I would wake to the night's peaceful warmth with the gentle sensation of hips rocking against my own—a flash of red hair, then darkness once more. In a space where sound was discouraged, I didn’t know how to say that it wasn’t what I wanted.

The sweet fantasy of floral-scented dreams and the swell of curves that I wouldn’t find if I ever let my hands roam was what I was given, and it’s what I let exist.

When I’m alone again, I will reach out to the space that used to be so warm and let the barest hint of a secret scent curl around my fingertips.

Tears welled hot in the corners of my eyes as I wished for a different outcome, an honest one. The thoughts passed, whimsical and useless. When I smiled, it wasn’t playful.

If I deserved it, it would be mine.

+++

Centuries of trysts in the demon hours of the night had prepared my mind to wake before he fully seated himself on my waiting eagerness. A body I knew without exploring, and a soft heat I dreamt of earning, wrapping around the most honest piece of me.

The faint scent of lilacs, which I had grown to hate, hid the stronger scent underneath, the one I needed. Long fingers lay gently across my eyes, and I nestled into them, falling into the role.

The chasm in me grew as the frenetic pace of my heart made it difficult to breathe. No more hiding. Even though I hesitated, I wanted to touch, to see. It wasn’t that I was scared, this was just delicate.

There was movement and before I could make sense of what I did, I saw the bright amber eyes that stared up at me in disbelief.

He was under me, panting, eyes wild with fear. Exposed and vulnerable, Eris tried to look away but I took his chin between my fingers and held him there. As we stared into each other, something settled into place between us.

It was a heavy feeling, like falling. My limbs were weighted down by the sight of him and as I fell I smiled, burying the emotion into the side of his neck.

“There you are.” I whispered when the scent of him snuck in with my inhale. Strong and musky like the forest after a good rain, like him. A scent that had begun to invade my dreams. Now that he was there with me, stripped of all the ways he could possibly hide, I was afraid that I had never felt more at home.

***

My breath caught in my throat. Azriel was on top of me, inside of me and looking at me with such an honest expression that I felt myself try to run from it.

The freckles in his hazel eyes spelled my name and hope rattled where it was caged in my chest.

I flinched when he touched me, fingers soft but unyielding on my chin. It’s not that I was scared, it’s just that this was delicate.

I exhaled when he breathed in and swallowed down his words as he whispered nonsense that melted into my name.

His hands roamed over me, unsure at first but my body moved with him, encouraging the exploration. The kiss to the corner of my mouth was my undoing.

I exhaled my want and it was a needy sound, deep and masculine. He answered my call, the growl vibrating in all the places we were still connected. I tightened at the feel of it and he twitched, his hips canting forward to feed me what I needed.

+++

Moonlight spilled in as the night wore on and pooled in gentle puddles of silver across our sweat slicked bodies. Eris’ pale skin wore it like he was made of starlight, made for me to look at.

I traced each divot of muscle on his chest with the tip of my finger and didn’t hide my smile as he purred at the touch.

He kissed the top of my head and I felt his smile branded there, shameless and open. A silent acceptance that I drank in, feeling somehow more worthy of it than I had of anything else in my entire life.

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[talibunny30]

Another masterpiece by you, dearest.

Chapter One now up on AO3.

Summary: In the aftermath of the disastrously failed betrothal between his eldest son and the Hewn City heiress, Beron Vanserra claims recompense for his family’s treatment and humiliation. The High Lord of Night offers it — in the form of his court’s precious shadowsinger, collared and powerless, as the prince’s body-slave.

Inspired by The Captive Prince, C.S. Pacat.

Related art: Collared Azriel

Hi tag buddies :) Let me know if you want off. Or on.

@g00seg1rl @pippsmcgee @greenvelvetcouture @the-darkestminds @jules-writes-stories @fourteentrout @mistandmemories @nus4y @chunkypossum @buffy-vanserra @molcat07 @talibunny30 @neciebee @thesourcabbage @brunetterebel010 @irithiadourden @sonics-atelier @astro-h0e-4azris @wovendreamscapes @gravitysthrall @futurehunt

[talibunny30]

go now, quietly

pairing: azriel x eris

I wrote this as part of a 5-word prompt game. My first ever drabble!

Azriel steels himself and glances down.

There is a peaceful expression on Eris’s pallid face, one Azriel didn’t see often in their short time together. His eyes are closed, and there’s a stiff, white sheet framing his overly-pronounced collarbones. 

He could be sleeping, if not for the too-pale shade of his lips and the dulled sheen of his red hair. It’s as though a veil of gray has been drawn over the world, muting the vibrant colors Azriel has always associated with the male lying before him. 

Azriel blinks a few times, hoping to clear it. In a moment, that wicked mouth will split into a sly grin, and Eris will sit up and say something like, Really, Azriel, don’t be so dense. You of all people should know better than to believe everything you see.

Ordinarily, the taunting annoys Azriel, and he once might’ve snapped back, Do you always have to be such a prick? 

He wouldn’t now, though. Now, he holds his breath and hopes and hopes and hopes to the gods that Eris will open his amber eyes and say anything at all, no matter how cutting.

Azriel stares down at him, searching for a twitch of a muscle, the flutter of a pulse.

Eris remains still. His skin is fresh snow against the aged wood of the table upon which he rests. There is nothing on his body to suggest the cause of his death, and Azriel isn’t sure whether or not he should be grateful for it.

Carefully, he brings a single scarred finger to the edge of Eris’s jaw, traces it down the bone and ghosts it over his cold, unsmiling lips. 

Azriel can count on one hand the number of times he’s heard Eris laugh, and even those had been tempered by the cruel reality of life with Beron as a father. He will never hear his laugh again.

The jarring realization opens a chasm in Azriel’s chest. The grief that hits him then is immense, ineffable, and he thinks he might truly die from it. 

Azriel closes his eyes, breathes deeply.

Birds twitter whimsically in the nearby trees just outside. Their song filters in through the open window. It might as well be a portal to a different world, another life, where this unthinkably awful thing has not happened and he does not feel the crushing weight of loss. In a moment, he will wake up and discover it was all a bad dream. Eris will be lying beside him, sleeping soundly. 

A chilled breeze kisses his skin. The rough paper sheet shifts, crinkling softly.

Azriel inhales and opens his eyes.

In the end, he selects the cobalt-accented suit for the Burning, because Eris always joked about how lovely it looked with his hair, and Azriel knows exactly where it hangs in their closet. Mostly, though, it’s because it’s Azriel’s favorite. 

He wants to see Eris in his color one last time before the pyres are lit.

special shoutout to @mistandmemories who shared the same brain as me for this piece 🤣

Azris tag list: @jules-writes-stories @mistandmemories @g00seg1rl @chunkypossum @nightsandflamess @wrraccountant @olenvasynyt @astro-h0e-4azris @iftheshoef1tz @greenvelvetcouture @ysmtttty @mudandmire @jolenes-library @nus4y @palomita-de-la-sangre @makinglongwordsslutty @thesourcabbage @talibunny30 @shadowsandlint @neciebee @aurorasleeps-27 @fourteentrout @eatsbooks @buffy-vanserra

Let me know if you want on or off!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics