#Azris drabble

[g00seg1rl]

Remain

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra

Summary: Haven’t we all wanted someone to just.. yanno.. sleep with It inside? Eris relates. Az and his large wingspan provide.

A/N: hi loveys, below the divider is 750 words and they are all horny (okay some of them are just bratty and it’s all Eris’s fault 😇)

Biceps strained as Azriel caged Eris’s head with his forearms, his fists dipping the mattress as he rammed his cock forward, hips pistoning powerfully. The angle tormented Eris’s prostate relentlessly. Eris’s unnaturally hot, clenching channel was milking Az for all he was worth, each stroke more pleasurable than the last.

Only a few more thrusts and they’d be wrecked. Four rounds would overwhelm the functions of even the most ethereal fae. He was currently having Eris in a somewhat lazy position, laying his damp ginger hair against silk pillowcase and doing all the work after his beloved had nearly done ballet on his dick for at least two of those undoings.

“Haa- fuck, Eris, coming,” he bit out against Eris’s glistening temple.

“Yes, yesss, come for me Az, give me, harder, more, so good,” Eris goaded Az’s orgasm as if his ass wasn’t heavenly enough to elicit it on its own. A bit overkill really. But eris had always been extraordinarily sensual.

“With me, come with me Eris- fuck, please,” he groaned, trying to prevent post-nut guilt of coming first– or fifth?

“Well, how can I say no? You sound so pretty begging, baby,” Eris praised far too coherently for the position he was in.

Azriel buried himself deep inside Eris’s fluttering hole, his balls slapping almost painfully against Eris’s. An anatomical inconvenience. Worth it.

He spilled, letting go and releasing with Eris’s name on his lips. Eris came with him, painting Azriel’s lower abs in sweltering cum, rarely following an order.

“Fuck- that was…” Az lost his vocabularic reach and began pulling back. The heavenly sight of watching his come drip from Eris’s ruined rim was robbed from him as Eris’s hands pulled on Az’s lower back, grounding him further inside.

“Don’t– don’t leave, not yet, please?” Eris asked, a bit shy.

He stopped his retreating hips, brows raising. “Why would I leave? I’m tired.”

“No you dunce, don’t pull out, I want you to stay inside,” Eris dumbed it down a bit.

Look, it wasn’t Az’s fault his brain was no more than a marsh.

Azriel felt his jaw go slack, huffed through his nose. They’d been doing the debaucherous tango for centuries, why the fuck was this the first time Eris had asked?

“What?” Eris complained, forcing an uncomfortable awareness of how long Azriel had been looking at him like he was crazy for not asking previously. How long had he wanted this?

“What happened to me feeling perfect? You were screaming that earlier–” Ah fuck, he should really say something already, but how could one phrase I want immortal lifetimes marinating inside you without sounding like a freak?

“Of fucking course.” He settled his weight down, melting contently and calling upon the shadows to soften his landing and provide a small cushion, even as he taunted, “But when you wake up to me fucking you, I want a thank you, no whining about being crushed all night.”

Shadows snickered at his posturing as they helped heft him slightly up, still sleek and thin enough for Azriel to feel Eris’s heart thump in time with his, their chests giving and taking space as they breathed each other’s air. Dizzyingly close, or maybe it was the sharing breath thing–

POV switch teehee

Eris woke to soft grunts and shallow thrusts, pleased that Az had stayed and also because he was being fucked. This was hardly the time for differentiating thoughts.

“I know you’re awake, can see you smiling,” the spy astutely observed. Eris beamed brighter as he opened his eyes to a pretty, haughtily grinning Shadowsinger.

“You caught me, spare me the handcuffs please, m’still rather tired.”

“I’ll have to save that for later then, but I was very much looking forward to a thank you after all those pleases last night.”

“You can have your thank you when you make me come again,” Eris reasoned, closing his eyes and giving in to the smile betraying his brattiness. It was quite difficult to seem nonchalant when he could practically hear Az’s eyes rolling. His hips rescinded before slamming back in, and Eris gasped, hands clinging around Az’s neck, bracing for more.

“Conditional politeness, how very you of you,” Az husked, setting a pace competing with a sexually frustrated sprinter.

“Hnmn, fuck fuck fuck, hng, earn it.”

And he did, fucking Eris into the headboard until they were both moaning hoarsely and Eris may or may not have screamed THANK YOU like a banshee.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed !! Thank you @the-darkestminds, I am so so grateful for you, love u mami 😘 and thank you @astro-h0e-4azris for sucking off my ego 😏

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💗

My Azris babes, @nus4y @jules-writes-stories @fourteentrout @mudandmire @queercontrarian @mistandmemories @iftheshoef1tz @nightsandflamess @chunkypossum @brunetterebel010 @icey--stars @irithiadourden @3xolara @sunstar-drabbles @missblackstar @wovendreamscapes @neciebee @fingerpoppingood @wrraccountant @talibunny30 💗💗💗

[fourteentrout]

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

[ysmtttty]

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

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[the-darkestminds]

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 @pippsmcgee @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

[born-to-riot]

Idk if this counts as a Drabble but basically it starts as me theorizing an event in Prythian and then turns into ‘what if Azris’

WC: 3,325

(TW: A/B/O, loosely nsfw, talks of breeding, male omegas have cocklets and boypussies).

Okay but hear me out.

I want a Prythian mating run

Make it A/B/O (along with their regular magic powers) (however maybe there’s some traditional powder that participants are required to take so that it dampens their powers and awakens the alpha/beta/omega inside of them)

It’s primal, the lopers start first. Battling each other to find and make the best den and claim territory for them to bring their runner back to once they catch them.

After a while, they catch the scents of the runners filtering throughout the forest. That’s when the game truly begins.

the runners don’t make it easy (usually betas and omegas)

(What’s point of making it easy when you’re strong and want to make the alpha/beta prove they are worthy and can breed you full of strong pups)

(Any second gender is allowed to sign up in any position: runner or loper)

(For example, just last season the alpha prince of Adriata, Varian, shocked Prythian when rumors spread that he signed up to be a runner. The shock multiplied when it was rumored that he was caught by the scariest and tiniest alpha of Prythian, Amren of the Night Court. Legend has it the two came out four days after the mating run covered in blood and scratches but are now inseparable).

It’s all about scent.

Only unmated faes can participate. Think of the occasion like an annual festival to see if two halves of a whole can find one another.

Not every pair who comes together will be mates as an actual mating bond is rare to find (also sometimes the pairs aren’t even the most compatible scent-wise be it alpha athleticism, an omega caught in a trap, or just the luck of the catch) but usually by the time an loper catches an runner, both of their pheromones have their instincts roaring.

But if you are mates or just are the most compatible for one another… oh the mother will let you know. There will be some other force pushing the runner to go faster, there is something that pushes the loper to be more violent about ridding the runner’s trail of other lopers running after the same scent. The closer they get to one another the wetter the omegas cunt gets the heavier an alphas cock, even betas will adjust accordingly depending on whether they are a runner or a loper.

Azris below the cut

Now let’s say Eris enters the race this year as a runner. Years prior he’s been forced by his father to sign up as a loper despite the fact that he’s technecially an omega, which is fine (but dangerous- some fellow lopers would get distracted by his scent and try to go after him. While he always fought them off he can’t deny the inner thrill of the chase) and Some years he’s caught good scents and has even followed some of them, hunted them. Usually though, his interest would fade and he would just return to his den and hang out in his nest until the event was over.

Not this year, this year, instead of just going to the Autumn run, Eris heard a rumor that a certain Shadowsinger would finally be participating in an intercourt run. He hated himself for being weak to the temptation but ever since he felt the other’s scarred hands around his neck Eris’ inner omega can’t fight the fantasy of being knotted by the Illyrian.

Eris doesn’t tell his father that he’s signing up as a runner, of course. He just lets the man know that he is going to try his luck with a wider pool of runners to choose from- which Beron accepted.

There is a gathering before the run, this is where runners and lopers can mingle and familiarize each other with scents that intrigue them. Legend has it that it is at one of these minglings where Thesan and his lover first made contact. Eris goes to this meeting and tries to mingle. He talks to many handsome and beautiful lopers, but he doesn’t feel his cocklet twitch until he makes eye contact with Azriel, who is staring at him from across the room, over the head of the third archeron sister. Elain.

Shit. Eris can’t believe he let himself forget about the newest object of Azriel’s affections. He can’t believe he even allowed himself to hope for just a minute that the Shadowsinger might return his interest. He can’t believe he let himself think that he smelt the other’s cedar infused arousal back when he whispered in his ear at the High Lord’s meeting.

Eris quickly sidesteps so that he’s out of view of the Shadowsinger but he can’t rid himself of the memory of his hazel eyes. Maybe his father was right, he should never be a runner because omegas let their thoughts get clouded by their cunts.

Eris knows he should leave the gathering before Azriel could have the opportunity to spread the word to whatever other members of the Inner Circle that are present. But his inner omega is waging war against him. Give him your scent. We are the most worthy omega in here. Eris isn’t so sure if he agrees with that, but he’s come this far and defied his father by opening up the possibility for a son of Autumn to be caught and bred. He supposes it won’t hurt to give the alpha a reminder of the scent he should be hunting.

So Eris moves, head held high. He walks around the edges of the room, dodging wanting alphas who approach him. He stops once he’s two meters away from the present members of the Night Court Inner Circle, facing the back of Azriel’s wings that separate him from the two ladies in front of him—Mor and Elain. The two female fae are chatting with one another and Azriel is clearly focused on analyzing the room around him— at least Eris assumes so based on the slight movements of the black haired man’s head.

Shining gold twinkles at the corner of Eris’ eye and grabs his attention. He spies a tall spring court alpha adorned in gold jewelry. The male is not Tamlin but he sure is beautiful, Eris can’t help but think. He sees the golden male approaching his direction at the same time Eris recognizes a semi-familiar shadow flitting by him. He has an idea.

Eris waits as the golden alpha comes closer and closer and he makes note that the shadow that was passing by has stilled and attempted to blend in with the natural darkness of the wall nearest to him. Eris feels a smirk form on his face as he thinks about the fact that the Shadowsinger has no idea that Eris knows each and every time the male is watching him.

Finally, the golden alpha gets close enough and Eris purposefully angles himself so that the other will ‘accidentally’ knock into him. The plan goes accordingly and soon Eris is letting out a pointed gasp as the Spring Court Alpha catches him by the waist with an apology. Eris laughs then, purposefully emitting his toasted maple and almond scent as if he was truly embarrassed. Eris waves the golden alpha away, smiling as if he wasn’t disgusted by his musk of freshly cut grass, and calmly readjusts his blazer before walking towards the exit of the gathering. It’s not until after he takes two steps out of the door that he hears footsteps behind him and sees a shadow in front of him that mimics the lines of the familiar pair of wings that never seem to escape his mind.

“Why hello Azriel,” Eris says, pausing his movements, listening as the footsteps get louder as the Shadowsinger approaches him from behind. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I think I should be saying that to you,” Eris can’t help but bite back a keen as he smells the other’s cedar aura. Azriel grabs him by the waist—his hand covering the exact same spot where the Spring Court alpha had held Eris earlier— and turns him around to face him. Eris is proud of himself for maintaining an unimpressed expression on his face as he feels his cunt clench around nothing.

Eris tries not to show how much Azriel affects him, he tries not to cry as the Shadowsinger releases him and puts his hands back in his pockets. He tries to convince himself that he isn’t desperate for this alpha to chase him tomorrow, to accept his challenge, to want him.

“Are you a runner or a loper?” Azriel asks, surprising Eris as the Autumn Court male was expecting some sort of snarky comment that is typical of a member of the Night Court when it comes to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Eris smirks in a manner that he knows irritates the other, hoping for Azriel to let out more of his scent.

“I’ve heard you usually spend your mating run in Autumn as a loper… that you haven’t…” Azriel trails off, his scent growing stronger as he completes the sentence internally. Eris takes a step closer to Azriel.

“That I haven’t taken anyone back to my nest? That I haven’t been bred yet?” He asks, “What is it Azriel, what have you heard?”

What do you want, alpha? Eris shushes his inner omega.

“I’ve heard you’ve chased hundreds of runners but none of them have satisfied you enough to finish the chase.”

Eris spies Azriel gulp and his wings twitch as he says so.

“What you’ve heard is true,” Eris admits and shivers as he senses Azriel’s cedar musk grow stronger. He feels his own inner omega screaming inside of him, begging him to let out his own maple and almond in response. He feels heat pooling in his stomach and he knows he needs to exit this conversation soon before his inner omega takes over completely.

“Are you running?” Azriel asks, stepping even closer to Eris. Eris glares at him, hating that Azriel’s curiosity is feeding into his inner hope that the male might be interested in him.

“Maybe, not that it should matter to you with the remaining Archeron sister in the mix,” Eris crosses his arms over his chest.

“It doesn’t matter to me, I just want to know,” Azriel insists. Eris rolls his eyes. Liar.

“Okay Shadowsinger, whatever you say,” Eris nods at the other and starts to walk off towards his tent, trying not to get his hopes up.

“Eris, wait!” Azriel calls out to him, causing Eris to pause.

“Yes?” He asks, turning around to face the other who hasn’t moved from has spot.

“I…” Eris feels more heat pool into his core at the growl of frustration that Azriel lets out.

“I fucking hate you, but I need to know,” Azriel sounds a mix of conflicted and determined. That is more than what Eris was expecting so he’ll take a win where he can.

“The only thing I will tell you is…,” Eris starts as he approaches Azriel, figuring this is his best chance to let the other know his intentions. Almost as if the Shadowsinger is in a trance he takes a couple steps forward to meet Eris, bringing the two chest to chest. Eris is taller but Azriel is wider with muscles and his wings.

“Hmm” Azriel hums, prompting him. Eris watches as Azriel removes his hands from his pockets and starts to clench and unclench them.

Tell him, his inner omega encourages. Eris knows this is his only chance to get what he wants. If he were to get caught by another loper, not mate him, and his father finds out Eris knows he will never be allowed to participate in another mating run again unless it’s in Autumn and he is loping.

“I’m tired of being empty, Azriel. I want pups, I want a partner, I’m tired of pretending I’m not interested in you,” Eris ignores how Azriel widens his eyes in surprise and continues before he loses his courage, knowing he would be executed by his father if the man ever found out Eris was so weak to his instincts.

“I know what I smelled in that High Lord’s meeting, your hands were around my throat but your alpha was in your eyes and he was daring me not to disobey. I could smell that you wanted me and I can tell that every time you’ve looked at me since you’ve been thinking about it,” Eris sniffs as he feels a tear coming to his eyes, he knows his dream is impossible but he also owes himself one last chance to see it through.

“Remember my scent, Azriel,” Eris shakily reaches out for one of Azriel’s scared hands and takes it into his own, ignoring how his inner omega screams in delight at the contact. Azriel doesn’t resist as Eris brings the shadowsinger’s wrist up to his neck and rubs it against his scent gland before releasing it. He briefly eyes how Azriel’s wings seem to spread wider around the two of them, almost like he’s trying to block Eris from the sight of anyone who may walk by. Eris refuses to get his hopes up, even as he notes how carefully Azriel brings his now-scented hand back to his side.

“Do know, Azriel, if you decide to try and catch me, I won’t make it easy for you. If you successfully catch me, I’ll try to break loose and force you to catch me again. If you give me no other options but to submit to you, I will never let you go. I don’t give second chances, I can’t afford to,” Eris’ amber eyes stay locked on Azriel’s returning hazel gaze, “I refuse to settle for anything less than what I deserve and do not think I will wait for you if some other alpha proves to be stronger.”

Azriel alpha lets out a growl at that statement. Eris ignores the surprise that blinks into Azriel’s eyes at his own reaction and he takes a step back so he can communicate his thoughts clearly—he also begs his inner omega to shut the fuck up about how badly Azriel’s alpha clearly wants them, Eris knows that hope only leads to disappointment. However, Eris also knows that he can’t afford to have any regrets here, so he must finish his piece.

“Think about what you want, Azriel. Don’t let your guilt or loyalty influence your decision. I will say this only once: I refuse to be your back-up option, if you come after me, you better want me.”

With that Eris turns around before Azriel can say anything or shift his expression in response to Eris pouring out his soul for the other to see. He quickly walks away, trying to ignore the eyes he can feel boring into his back as he does so.

That night in his tent Eris weighs the merits of following through with running. The mating run is about lopers chasing the most compatible scent. It’s a bloody affair, lopers often fight each other if they sense another alpha on the path to their runner of desire and even once the loper catches a runner any respectful runner will fight back and make them work for it.

The pre gathering is often a time for lopers and runners to first get familiarized with some scents so they can maybe find one they want to chase the next morning. If he is being honest with himself, Eris is a little embarrassed at how much weakness he showed Azriel in admitting he wants the other to consider him. But Eris also is someone who isn’t afraid to go after what he wants and he knows that realistically this is his only chance. Also he knows that Azriel’s family has probably planted doubts in Azriel’s head so Eris needed to make sure the other saw him as a possible mate.

As Eris lays down to sleep that night, he imagines how tomorrow could go if Azriel decides to choose him. The lopers would get up earlier and paint themselves in their chosen ritualistic symbols from their courts and that represent themselves. The runners would all gather behind the lopers as they line up to race into the forest, ready to compete to find and make the best den before the runners begin. Maybe if Eris is lucky, Azriel will give him a sign that he’s made his decision, that he is going to be coming after him. If that’s the case then Eris knows he won’t be able to stop his cunt from releasing juices as he bathes himself in preparation during the dedicated time while the lopers are in the forest and building dens. Eris would wait with the other runners once he was done, strategizing and planning against possible traps and obstacles that will be in his way. He knows he has an advantage as the heir of Autumn, even if the special powder they take dampen his powers, he grew up jumping from tree to tree along with all his siblings. Eris knows his inner omega will be singing and he will happily take a backseat once it’s finally time to run. He trusts his omega to guide him where to go and he trust in his own strength to keep him safe.

Eris knows he smells good, maple and almonds make a lovely mix and he knows his inner omega won’t be able to stop radiating his scent like a beacon. Eris is only interested in one alpha, and the powder doesn’t affect his wings as they are additional limbs. So he knows if Azriel comes for him, he would come from above. Eris imagines hopping from tree to tree staying under the cover of leaves. He imagines being stuck at one point, up high, the next tree too far for him to make the leap and a crowd of drooling alphas waiting for him to fall. He imagines Azriel finally swooping in and growling at them all, taking care of them viscously. Eris knows his cunt would be dripping at the sight but he also knows that he couldn’t watch he’d have to keep moving.

Eris doesn’t know how Azriel would finally catch him but Eris knows that he’d fight with every fiber of his being, he’d want Azriel to prove that he wants him, that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to claim him, that he’s strong enough to father their pups. He knows that his cunt will be throbbing once he finally submits and he hopes Azriel will take a moment to taste him before he flies them to his den.

Eris imagines that Azriel would probably set up his den in a cave on a mountain, higher than other alphas, easy to defend and probably close to a water and food source. He imagines that Azriel would be thoughtful and supply the cave with nesting materials for Eris to use once he brings him there.

Eris doesn’t even want to imagine what comes next as he knows the idea of Azriel breeding him over and over and claiming him will give him too much hope.

Eris falls asleep, oblivious to the shadows that occupy his tent, their master not planning on letting his dream omega slip away from him when he finally has a chance to make him his.

____________

OKAY so I wasn’t planning to write all of this, it’s kind of just a story I want to happen but I am too lazy to fully write myself.

But any thoughts?

Also lopers don’t have to kill rival lopers but there’s nothing against it if they do… azriel most definitely will eliminate threats.

(Also this is just an idea, if someone were to write something like this I would spread my legs for them especially if they added smut and gore WOOT)

NVM IM GONNA WRITE IT MYSELF MUAHAHHAHAAHA

[chairofchaos]

With This Ring

Brought to you by Corner Productions: @ninthcircleofprythian and I are back at it again! For @erisweekofficial Day 7: Free Day.

In special recognition and honor of Ninth's 10th wedding anniversary. Pure domestic Azris fluff. Pinky promise.

Eris Vanserra had always been known for his immaculate fashion sense with his perfectly tailored suits and bold choices of color. But it is of the belief of these authors that it was his choice of jewelry that really stood out the most. What follows are the headcanons of Chaos and Ninth in regards to Eris’ hands (yum (extra yum! Love, Chaos)) and their ever changing adornments, especially after the appearance of a certain Shadowsinger in his life. 

Eris cares about his jewelry, especially his rings

He’s meticulous with which pieces he chooses to buy

Mostly he sticks to dainty stackable pieces so that he can have many rings on at once

There is the occasional statement piece– usually for special occasions

He is very intentional, even ritualistic, with setting the vibe of the day every morning with what he chooses

Azriel expects this to carry over into his treatment of the rings when they aren’t being worn, and finds himself amazed at the lack of care Eris seems to have at the end of the day

However, Az can always tell how Eris’ day has gone based on where he finds the discarded rings in the house

By the front door? Terrible, awful, no-good day. Eris is likely in the bath cooling off his temper and his body

In the kitchen? Decent day. Eris probably decided to make a cup of tea and wanted to hold his cup without his rings in the way

In the library? Eris still has work on the brain, and is probably working somewhere in the house

If Azriel comes home and he can’t find rings anywhere, one of two things is likely:

Either Eris isn’t home (boooo) or Eris is home, and he’s still wearing them, and they’ll end up piled on Eris’ bedside table at the end of the night

No matter where he leaves them, Eris always seems to know where they are

This drives Azriel bonkers because there is no pattern or reason behind it besides Eris’ whims

Azriel has bought him numerous ring holders and dishes in the attempt to condense them into little areas so they won’t be lost

Eris uses them for a few days, but even if the ring holders are in the places with the most frequent use, Eris still doesn’t use them consistently

When brainstorming for an anniversary early on in their relationship Azriel decides they need a more permanent solution and scours Prythian for some option that will work. He doesn’t like any of the options and decides to come up with his own

He describes the design to a carpenter, who creates the holder. It is a series of dowels laid horizontally in a wall-mounted holder, carved with notches to hold each dowel. It’s easy to add spaces for new dowels, and Eris can see his whole collection instead of storing them in jewelry boxes all over his dresser top or scattered around the whole house like little dragon hoards 

Eris loves the rack. It’s easier to see them all, and he can display his rings like trophies (ooo shiny) (crow behavior)

Azriel loves buying Eris jewelry as well

Azriel is especially attentive to how the rings sound

Azriel has noticed Eris tapping his fingers on tables, chairs and cups - so he purposely chooses rings that have good pitch

When he gifted rings, he used to give them directly to Eris, but when Eris starts using the display, Azriel starts sneaking the jewelry he brings home onto the display instead

Eris is so attentive to it that he always notices within a day

They still have to add dowels frequently. After all, over 500 years of life gives you the chance to collect a lot of jewelry

Now, Eris and Azriel find themselves the owners of an incredible collection of jewelry, a beautiful display rack for them, and many, many empty boxes and dishes. Eris is disappointed at their lack of use but can’t bring himself to just get rid of them, especially since some of them are family antiques and many of the dishes were gifts from Azriel

Azriel takes it upon himself to give the boxes and dishes new uses

He begins bringing home trinkets and souvenirs to fill them, usually with some sensory gain: the items are shiny, or they make nice sounds when you fidget with them

Eris teasingly calls Azriel a “more of a crow than a bat”, and a new name for the collection is born

The ‘crow boxes’ slowly accumulate enjoyable objects to the point where there are tiny collections everywhere around the house

A few years later, Azriel proposed

He slipped the jeweled engagement ring onto a dowel - thinking Eris would acknowledge it once he saw it

Eris just placed it on his hand and carried on with his day, not saying a word

Azriel spotted it at breakfast - “Do you understand what that means?”

Eris - “I wouldn’t be wearing it if I didn’t.” 

Eris doesn’t wear any other rings on that finger with his engagement ring

It is the only finger that he doesn’t add stacks to because his love for Az forsakes all others

In acknowledgement of their mating ceremony, Azriel gives Eris a new addition to the ring display: a new bracket with a shorter dowel, engraved with the date of their mating ceremony

They both keep their mating rings there, and that is the only jewelry Azriel keeps on the display

It is also the only bar on the display that is ever completely empty. It becomes a new ritual at the end of their days for Eris to put away all his rings, and last, for them to both slide their mating rings on the dowel and return it to its place

As they have children, Azriel gives Eris a ring for each child, and those rings join their mating rings on the dowel

Eris wears those rings amidst all the others, in stacks which remind him of each of the children

When their oldest children are still young, Eris decides to start a tradition of giving away the filled boxes of treasures to them at Solstice

It becomes the most anticipated part of the holiday - the kids sifting through the objects and exclaiming their excitement over their “crow presents"

They begin to trade things, each child keeping their designated box filled with its objects but trading with the others for things that better suit their interests

In the end, Azriel jokes that he might be a crow, but with the fire powers and as protective as the children are of their crow boxes and Eris is of his rings, they might just be dragons after all

Taglists: xx @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @pit-and-the-pen @prythianpages @chunkypossum xx @dusk-muse @unanswered-stars @c-starstuff-man0

P.S. If you're seeing this you need to go read the title and header of Ninth's blog bc if nobody notices before I go on hiatus I'm gonna be sad. That is all. Thank you. Love, Chaos

[futurehunt]

hii requesting azris drabble 20 or 46 :) tyy

46- Azris kiss out of jealousy 🤭

me: send me drabbles

also me: writes way more than a drabble

18+! mature more than explicit but still slightly smutty, minors dni 😝

ended up posting onto AO3 for funsies if you'd rather read there

Azriel does not fidget.

He was a battle-hardened warrior with centuries of training in stoicism– he knew better than to fidget.

But, by the fourth time the Raskian dignitary left a lingering hand squeezing Eris's shoulder, Azriel found his legs jittering with frantic energy, hands squeezing rhythmically– imagining crushing that olive-skinned hand until bones crunched.

The collective murmur of the crowd echoed around the Great Hall, bouncing off the soaring arched ceiling and blanketing Azriel in its inescapable din.

"This is my spymaster, Azriel." He could hear his brother's garbled voice through the racket to his right, drawing Azriel's attention away from the sight of Eris and the dignitary leaning in close to one another.

Azriel couldn't erase the scowl from his face as Rhysand introduced him to a Monteseren nobleman, if the emerald and silver embellished robes were any indication.

"Wow." The male gawked at Azriel as if he were a roadside attraction, leaning in to Rhysand to ask, "Where did you get him from?"

His brothers eyes shot wide as the moon. Not giving the conversation a chance, Azriel stalked away with a growl– doing his reputation of being an animal no favors.

Shadows thrashing around him, the crowd parted for Azriel in fear.

He had been a staunch advocate for this– a grand soirée between Prythian and empires on the Continent, a joining of peoples to put the past behind them. With Koschei destroyed and power wrestled, at last, from Briyallan's clutches, tenuous peace had settled between the humans and the fae. Under Queen Vassa's guidance, this gathering had been organized at her castle with every court of Prythian and the Continent invited to attend.

Azriel regretted it now, fully intend to go hide within his chambers until the event had finished for the night.

He chanced one last glance back, searching for Eris's vibrant red hair among the sea of muted browns and blondes. The Raskian official that'd been drooling over the Autumn High Lord now stood alone, looking forlorn. Eris? Gone.

With a huff, Azriel resumed the trek back to his room.

It had made his skin crawl to see the greasy human draping himself across Eris. Eris Vanserra was a High Lord– a title that deserved respect no matter how much Azriel despised the male that held it, and that human had been acting as if Eris were no more than a for-hire courtesan sent there to please.

Shortly after exiting the Great Hall, the hallway forked and Azriel veered left towards the Night Court's collection of rooms.

Back, his shadows whispered. The other way.

"What?" Azriel whispered.

The other way, they repeated.

Azriel backtracked, curious, and followed the hallway to the right.

His footsteps bounded off the carved limestone walls, sound bouncing ahead and leading the way. This must be the private wing, Azriel presumed, its walls less laden with ostentatious memorabilia. Thick clouds outside hid the moon from sight, leaving wall-mounted braziers providing the only pockets of dancing firelight to guide Azriel down the hallway.

Behind the tapestry, his shadows said.

As if on cue, a tapestry, as tall as him twice over, emerged from the darkness. It had a lush, hilly landscape sewed onto its surface. In the center, a murky black lake with a red winged bird gliding across its surface.

Azriel ripped back the side of the tapestry and found, hiding within an alcove, Eris.

Eris, who'd been leaning casually back against the stone-stacked wall, jolted up, brows shot high at the sight of Azriel. A lone ball of fire, like produced by Eris, hung in the air above him, gently illuminating the small space.

"How did you find me?" Eris spluttered.

"Waiting for someone?" Azriel growled. That's all this could be– a clandestine rendezvous with Raskian dignitary. Why else would Eris be sequestered away within the private wing of Vassa's palace.

"Not that I'm aware of?" Eris said rising to his full height, only an inch shy of Azriel.

Azriel scoffed in disbelief.

"Oh," Eris drawled, a coy smile spreading across his face. "Don't think I didn't see you watching me all night, shadowsinger. I could practically smell your jealousy from across the ballroom."

"Jealousy?" Azriel gaped in shock.

Eris continued, "You won't act on your desire for me but no one else can have me, is that it?"

"Desire?!" Azriel repeated in disbelief. "I desire you as much as I would a toad."

With a chuckle, Eris said, "You must be really attracted to toads."

Azriel growled and turned to leave.

"I am waiting for someone, actually." Eris's words stopped him in his tracks. "You know, I figured– what better way to strengthen relations with the human of the Continent than to... partake in relations with humans of the Continent."

Whipping around, aghast, Azriel searched Eris for any signs of deceit. "You're joking."

"I don't joke," Eris said haughtily. "You should leave. He'll be here soon and I don't need your presence ruining anything."

Azriel's gaze flickered down the hallway, he saw no one and heard no footsteps. Letting the tapestry drape closed behind him, Azriel stepped into the alcove.

Even with the tapestry down, he could still hear the echo of the crowd in the Great Hall.

All it took was two steps for Azriel to have Eris backed flat against the wall. A heartbeat later, his arm wrapped around the Autumn High Lord and pulled the male flush against him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

The first joining of their lips was slow, sucking, and exploratory. Eris tasted of cinnamon spiced liquor and sweet walnuts.

Soon, their manic longing caught up with the pace of the mouths.

Azriel's mind melted.

The only sensation he registered was the soft glide of Eris's lush lips against his own, dancing together in desperate desire. He swallowed the choked groan Eris released into his mouth as the male pressed every inch of their bodies together.

Why hadn't Azriel done this sooner?

His skin burned everywhere they touched, his heart galloped painfully in his chest.

Azriel needed more. Now.

Tilting his head to deepen the kiss, Azriel slid his tongue into Eris's mouth, memorizing his intoxicating taste.

Pulling back to catch his breath, Azriel asked between pants, "You said he's meeting you here?"

"Yes." Eris's pale skin was flushed a rosy pink.

"That's too bad for him." Azriel crept his hands under Eris's shirt to glide along his taut abdomen. "Because he's going to be very disappointed to find me fucking you up against this wall, instead."

Eris's voice was breathless, yet more composed than Azriel wished, as he said, "Against the wall? You're overconfident."

"No, I'm not." With a sturdy grip on the back of Eris's thighs, Azriel hiked the male up, thanking the Mother for centuries of training that made the lift feel effortless.

Wrapping Eris's legs securely around his waist, Azriel leaned in to the male's ear and said, "Tell me you want this."

Eris huffed but said nothing, mouth hinged slightly open and eyes glazed.

Azriel pressed tight into the crux of Eris's thighs and ground against the hardness he found there, managing to suppress a moan at the friction. Unlike him, Eris failed at holding back a whimper.

"Eris, I'm not doing anything until you beg." Azriel whispered before recapturing the male's mouth. They made out in silence, hips rocking against one another, original intention evaporated from Azriel's mind– his sole focus drawing more broken moans from Eris.

Pulling free tightly knotted laces, Azriel slid his hands inside Eris's waistband to grab two hand-fulls of the male's ass. As Azriel massaged the butter-soft skin, squeezing it to its limit, he'd occasionally slide an exploratory finger down to tease Eris's tightness. Every time his finger glided over, Eris's long legs would squeeze around Azriel's waist, using the force to pull their bodies closer.

On the fifth passover, Eris broke free from Azriel's lips, heaving, and begged, "Fuck me, Azriel. Please, fuck me."

"Yes," Azriel moaned eagerly in affirmation.

Shucking Eris's pants up his thighs so that it exposed enough of the male's ass, Azriel trailed his lips down the pillar of his pale neck, sucking deep bruises into the skin.

Fingers twisted in his hair as Eris rasped, "I said, fuck me."

In a haze, Azriel fumbled with a vial of oil his shadows deposited into his palm and made quick work of slicking up his fingers. He circled Eris's heat, egged on by the male's muttered encouragements. They kissed with manically, barely repressed smiles making it hard to maintain a rhythm. Just as he was about to dip a finger into Eris, Azriel paused.

Too late, with no forewarning from his shadows, Azriel registered the clack of footsteps in the hallway outside the tapestry. And, before he could do more than rip his mouth away and gape at Eris in shock, the tapestry was yanked back, flooding light from the hallway braziers into the alcove.

Shadows burst forth, surrounding Eris and blocking him from view.

Azriel dropped Eris from his arms, guiding his legs down so he didn't fall, and double checking that shadows shrouded him entirely, before turning to face the bewildered face of the Raskian dignitary.

The male stared at them, dumbstruck.

"Get out," Azriel growled, cobalt siphons flaring in warning.

That was all it took to send the Raskian scampering away, tapestry dropping to cloak them once more.

Azriel whipped to face Eris, shadows dissipating. "You were serious? You were actually meeting him here?"

"I told you, I don't joke," Eris replied.

Snarling, Azriel pressed Eris back into the wall, plundering his lips with white-hot kisses, set on erasing every thought of the Raskian male until all the existed in Eris's mind was Azriel.

[azrielbrainrot]

The Sweetest Dream

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Warnings: pure fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 0,9K

Notes: Writing little drabbles to help with writer's block. This is prompt #15 on this list.

Everyone in the house is asleep as you sit by the fireplace, sipping your tea, lost in visions of hazel eyes and gentle smiles, the same ones that wouldn't let sleep find you tonight.

“Can't sleep either?”

The sound makes you jump on the sofa, too distracted to realize someone had walked into the sitting room. Your heart calms as soon as you turn to find Azriel standing close to the doorway, cringing softly when you notice the guilty look in his eyes. You shouldn't have expected anything else from the Spymaster, walking around silently out of habit.

“I didn't mean to scare you,” he murmurs, hiding his hands behind his back and bringing his wings close to his body. Trying to make himself look smaller perhaps? As if that was possible.

“You didn't, Az,” you rush to assure him, “I just didn't expect anyone else to still be awake at this hour.”

Azriel hums and walks closer to you, the faint light coming from the fireplace making him look even more ethereal than usual as it hits his carved body so beautifully. Warmth spreads to your cheeks as his shadows give way and you notice he was only wearing loose pajama pants, it seems he really had been trying to sleep before coming downstairs. The thought makes you tug at the hem of your nightgown, remembering you were in the same position as him.

“You didn't answer me,” he speaks up again as he takes a seat next to you on the sofa.

“Right,” you clear your throat, pushing away any impertinent thoughts. “I can't seem to fall asleep, no.”

“Did something happen?”

His concern for you is exceedingly sweet, truly heartwarming, and even though it's something any of your friends would show, you can't help the murmur in your chest as it comes from him. The fact that his hushed voice sounds like warm honey in the quiet room not helping your situation at all.

You shake your head, turning your body to face him, leg propped on the sofa as the empty teacup in your hands disappears at the house's command. He looked impossibly handsome with his dark messy hair and his half-lidded eyes trained on you.

“Just have too much on my mind, that's all.”

“Alright,” he whispers, blinking slowly down at you, “but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Of course, Az. I promise it's nothing bad.” He nods, eyes never straying from yours as silence falls between you once again. “Why can't you sleep?”

“I guess I'm just not tired,” he shrugs.

You know better than to pry, but you also know of the nightmares that often plague his dreams, and of the insomnia that won't allow him to get a good rest. Your fingers twitch, wanting to reach out to hold his hand, settling on biting your lip instead, your eyes darting back to the fireplace.

Ever since realizing your feelings for Azriel weren't exactly platonic anymore, you didn't really know how to act around him, entirely too aware of every movement and word, and what they could mean. It also didn't help that he seemed different with you as well, it made your heart get too many ideas.

“The sun is almost rising in the sky. We should probably give up on getting enough sleep,” he says, getting up from the sofa and coming to stand in front of you, holding out a hand towards you, one you don't hesitate in taking, letting him pull you up to your feet. “I know a good place to see the sunrise. Why don't I take us there instead?”

A smile spreads across your face as you accept his invitation with a nod, a smile of his own mirroring yours. Cauldron, how could you not fall in love with him? It seems more impossible to you that no one else was madly in love with the shadowsinger.

His hands fall on your waist unexpectedly, your eyes widening in surprise. “I'll fly us there,” he explains quickly, easily lifting you up into his arms, making you wrap yours around his neck. You've flown with him countless times, but now you could feel his body moving towards the window far too well, considering the lack of clothes between you.

“Azriel,” you call out his name just as he reaches the window, the way his eyes fall on your face taking your breath away for a moment. “Maybe we should get our robes or something before leaving.”

“No one will see us,” he assures, his shadows climbing up your bodies as if confirming their singer's words. “Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“If you don't feel comfortable with me-”

“I do, Azriel,” you murmur, tightening your hold on him, “Of course I do.”

“Alright,” he whispers, pulling you closer to him as the smile returns to his lips.

“Alright.”

Your lips were only a breath away from each other, and it seems he also realized this as his hazel eyes travel down to watch your mouth, the desire that briefly flashes through his eyes taking your breath away before he recovers, opening the window and letting the chilly early morning air kiss your exposed skin instead.

“We should hurry,” he says with a smile, watching the way you blink up at him. “We don't want to miss the sunrise.”

It seems your silly crush isn't as silly or one sided as you thought.

[potatoplace]

Game Night

💖 Valentine's Collection 2025: Monopoly 💖

Nessian x Reader | Azris x Reader | Cazriel x Reader

Summary: Game night with your partners means three things: chaos, anger, and sexual tension.

Warnings: daddy kink oops, don't think there's anything else tho

Words: 1,224

Author's Note: this was soooo soo sOoo much fun omg. I loved Nessian's the most, cause they're the ones I had in mind when I made the poll 😂 and uhhh the Azris one... got uh. More daddy-y than I'd planned but I'm not mad. I hope you guys like it!! Read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🤍🩶🤍❤️🤍

“No, no, NO!” Cassian yelled as the dice stopped on doubles sixes, moving him from your hotel on Marvin’s Garden to Nesta’s hotel on Boardwalk.

“Yes!” Nesta cheered, a fist pumping into the air. “You’re going down, pretty boy!”

Cassian rifled through his stack of money that had already been cut into heftily from his last turn, leaving him with just ones and fives, his cheeks red. “I swear, Nes, you’re going to land on Illinois and then Pennsylvania Avenue and give me everything back.”

“Fat chance, Cassie, I’m going to bleed. You. Dry,” Nesta hissed, her hands clawing at the edges of the table.

“Okay, let’s cool it a little bit, guys,” you interjected, hoping to alleviate some of the tension that was quickly building to an unstoppable point.

As usual.

“Yeah, Nes, take you turn,” Cassian sneered at her, and you shot him a dirty look. He at least had the decency to look ashamed for five seconds, that’s more than he normally would.

Nesta rolled the dice, Cassian chanting for her to get a seven under his breath, only to yell when she rolled an eight, skipping right past his hotel on Illinois in favor of one of her railroads. “Would you look at that, Cassian, I seem to owe no money to anyone at this table.”

You sighed and scooped up the dice, hoping that your turn would help distract them from each other. Your hands shook the dice and loosed them, landing on a solid four - leaving you on free parking, which currently held over $1000 in Nesta’s income tax landings.

“Oh, you bitch!” Nesta yelled at you, though her hand landed on your arm gently, reassuring you that she may be loud, but she’s not truly angry with you.

You giggled at her as you raked in your new stack of bills, your wealth nearly equal with hers now.

“Oh, fuck me,” Cassian groaned. He never liked when the two of you were on top, as you rarely made someone go bankrupt, and Nesta would loan you money if you needed some - you are her princess are all. Meaning Cassian would have mercy from you, but all of Nesta’s mercy had been given to you.

“I can certainly arrange that, if you can’t pay for Boardwalk the next time you land on it,” Nesta said with a smirk, her eyes promising that she would offer such a trade.

“Over my dead body,” Cassian said, grabbing the dice again and rolling a ten, landing him at Nesta’s hotel on Connecticut Avenue. “FUCK!”

🤍��🤍🧡🤍

“That will be $1000, Y/N,” Eris said from across the table, his amber eyes glinting as he watched you fidget in your seat.

You bit your lip as you looked from him to your stack of money, knowing that you had less than half of what you needed, and you’d already traded away most of your properties. “Can I owe you one?” You asked, knowing the limited likelihood that he would agree.

“No, that isn’t the rule of the game, bunny. You either pay up or go bankrupt, I’m sorry to say,” he said, though his smirk told you he wouldn’t be sorry. After all, whenever you went bankrupt you chose one of them to cuddle with until they finished battling it out.

You turned your gaze to Azriel, his hazel eyes already trained on you.

“How much do you need, bunny?”

You smiled and bit your lip before counting the money that you had left. “Uhm… $637?” Azriel counted out $700 for you and held his hand out, taking it back before you could take it. You rolled your eyes and stood up, going over by him to give him a long kiss, your mouths only separating when Eris coughed, annoyed. “Thank you, Azzie,” you said, giving him another kiss, on his cheek this time. “Here you go, Eris,” You said brightly, handing him the money.

“You know, it’s against the spiritual rules of the game to bail someone out, Azriel,” Eris said as he grabbed the dice.

“But she’s so adorable Eris, especially after you’ve rejected her offer of paying you back later. I mean,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your head so you were facing him. “Could you say no to that face?”

Eris opened his mouth, but you slid your lip into a pout and squinted your eyes like you were going to cry.

He sighed. “No, I can’t. Come on, Y/N, just give up and come sit on daddy’s lap, hmm?” The request sent heat straight to your core, and your cheeks that Azriel was still holding onto.

“Or you could come sit on my lap, babygirl,” Azriel said, turning your face back to him. “I did just save you from bankruptcy.”

Your eyes flicked between the two of them.

“No, I think I’m fine for now, after all, I’m not bankrupt thanks to you, daddy,” you said softly, relishing in the light blush that dusted Azriel’s cheeks.

“See, Az? She does it every time!” Eris insisted, finally shaking the dice in his hands. “Just wait, you’ll be in my lap in no time, bunny.”

🤍❤️🤍💙🤍

“Ah, shit,” Cassian groaned as you landed on Pennsylvania Avenue, where Azriel had just put up a hotel. “Do you have enough money to pay for that, baby?”

You rolled your eyes at him. You were doing far better than he was this game, having slightly tricked him and Azriel into giving you all of their pieces of lower-priced property, leaving you owning two sides of the board, utilities and railroads included.

“I think I do, Cassie, thank you though,” you smiled at him, pulling out the money that you owed Azriel.

“Thank you,” Azriel said quietly as he put the money away in the proper order, both of you sharing the vast majority of the money. “Time for you to go, Cassian. And you should be asking if you have enough money,” he pointed out, waving at the part of the board he was on: your territory.

“Oh, I’ll be just fine, I’m going to skate by on chance and community chest, brother,” Cassian boasted as he picked up the dice and rolled them.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him landing on one of your hotels a moment later, biting your lip to keep your joy from being too obvious. You’d always found it funny how confident Cassian was, even when he sucked at the game like he did with monopoly.

“Pay up, big guy,” you said, extending a hand.

“I don’t-“ he sighed loudly. “Fuck you, Azriel!”

“What did I do?” Azriel asked with a brow raised.

“Well, I can’t say that to Y/N, now can I?! So fuck you!”

Az rolled his eyes at him. “Can you pay her, or not?”

“Yeah, Cassie, it’s only right to pay your debts,” you teased as he began counting out money, coming up a couple hundred short. He grumbled as he picked off a few houses from his monopoly, and pushed the money into your hands.

“Thank you, Cass,” you said, catching his eyes. “You know I love you, no matter how poor you are in monopoly, right?”

He let out an amused huff, and grinned. “If you love me so much, will you give me one of your monopolies?”

“Not a chance.”

🧡💙🤍❤️🩶

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Lovers' Day

A/N: This is a collection of short drabbles of how I imagine ACOTAR men would celebrate Valentine's Day with their S/O. Enjoy!

Azriel

Azriel didn’t need words to show love. He never had. 

He let his actions speak for him, the way he always seemed to be there, anticipating your needs before you voiced them.

So when you woke up on Lovers’ morning, you didn;t think much of it. It was just another day. Azriel never made a fuss about things like this, and honestly, you had completely forgotten.

But Azriel, well, he never forgot anything when it came to you. And this time, he had planned ahead, with a little help from Rhys.

A week prior, Rhysand had informed you about an incoming mission. A simple infiltration, something requiring subtlety and mingling. The only strange thing was that Rhys had specifically told you to wear something nice, to blend in. It had seemed odd at the time, but you had dismissed it and agreed without question. 

Now, standing on the roof of the House of Wind, you found Azriel waiting for you, arms crossed, face unreadable. But instead of his usual Illyrian leathers, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit.

You blinked. “Oh, you’re also going to blend in tonight? Not staying in the Shadows as always?” 

His lips twitched slightly, amusement dancing in his hazel eyes. “Something like that.” 

There was a subtle smile tugging at his lips, but he said nothing more as he extended a hand to you. You took it gladly, intertwining your fingers with his scared ones.

The familiar pull of winnowing wrapped around you, and when the world settled again, you found yourself atop one of the highest rooftops in Velaris. The city stretched out below like a sea of stars, the Sidra reflecting the soft glow of faelights. 

And in front of you-

A single candlelit table, dinner spread out with  precision only he could manage. Your favorite cuisine, appetizers, carefully arranged, two glasses of Rhysand’s most expensive wine waiting to be poured.

But that wasn’t all. On the ground beside the table lay a large, thick blanket, with two more folded ones resting at the side. A woven basket sat nearby, promising more hidden surprises.

You turned to face him, and he was already watching you standing so close his hands easily found your waist. He still hadn’t spoken much, letting the weight of the moment settle between you.

“Az…” Your voice was soft, uncertain. “What’s this?”

His thumb brushed over your hip, his gaze never leaving yours. “Do you like it?” His voice was low, almost hesitant.

You looked at the table again, at the small details that spoke volumes, how much he had thought about this, how much he knew you. “Th- this is for me?” Your brows furrowed in confusion as your mind caught up. “I thought we were supposed to be- wait, what about the mission?”

He shook his head, a small secretive smile playing on his lips. “There’s no mission, baby.”

It took a second for the words to sink in. “Then what about Rhy- Oh. Oh!” You turned back to him, realization dawning. “You planned this with him, didn’t you?”

His lips parted slightly, watching the way your face lit up in understanding. He nodded, his smile growing when he saw yours. “I wanted to do something for you.”

Something warm bloomed in your chest. Without thinking, you closed the small space between you, stepping onto your toes as you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s perfect,” you whispered against him.

His shadows curled around your wrist, a silent response, as he intertwined his fingers with your and led you toward the table. 

You glanced toward the blankets, curiosity flickering in your gaze. “What’re those for?” 

Azriel pulled out your chair, waiting for you to sit before settling in across from you. “I thought we could watch the stars together after dinner,” he admitted, his voice softer now, more vulnerable. “The blankets are just in case it gets cold.”

You smiled, warmth radiating through you, not from the candlelight or the wine, but from the male sitting in front of you, the one who loved you in the quietest, most breathtaking ways.

Cassian

Cassian wasn’t very good at keeping secrets, or throwing surprises. He was too impatient for that. 

So on Lovers’ Day, he burst into your room at the crack of dawn, grinning like a fool. “I challenge you,” he announced.

You groaned, barely awake, propping yourself up on your elbows as you blinked blearily at him. “Cassian,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes, “What in the Mother’s name are you on about? A challenge to what?” 

He folded his arms over his broad chest, expression smug. “An arm-wrestling match.”

You snorted. “Oh?” You raised a brow, an amused smile curving your lips. “Or…you could just tell me what you want, since we both know that you’d win.”

His grin widened as he sank onto the edge of the bed, looming over you. “A kiss.”

You rolled your eyes. “You get kisses every day, Cass. Come on, tell me what you really want.”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a husky murmur. “I want to take you out for breakfast.” His fingers brushed along your arm, making your skin prickle. “And then, I have a little gift for you.” His grin turned downright wicked as he added, “As for my gift…I want you.” 

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, low, certain, possessive. But before you could respond, he continued, pausing just long enough to let the anticipation build. “Lying in bed tonight,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “with nothing on but a ribbon…while you wait for me.”

Your jaw dropped. Then, without hesitation, you grabbed the nearest pillow and  threw it at him. Cassian caught it with ease, laughing as he tackled you onto the mattress, pinning you beneath him. His hands pressed into the sheets beside your head. “Happy Lovers’ Day, sweetheart,” he whispered, lips brushing over the curve of your neck. 

And judging by the way his body pressed against yours, you knew he wasn’t going to let you leave this bed anytime soon.

Rhysand

Rhysand had been smirking all evening.

He had something planned. He always did, but you weren’t sure what, and that was what made you suspicious.

The two of you sat comfortably in the living room, a deck of cards between you, glasses of expensive wine half-full. Rhys dealt the next round, his violet eyes twinkling with mischief.

“If you win,” he mused, “I’ll grant you one wish. Anything you desire.”

You arched a brow. “And if you win?”

His smirk widened. “You’ll have to find out.”

You narrowed your eyes, determined to beat him at his own game. But always, Rhys played dirty. Lingering touches, whispered words in your mind, distractions that made your thoughts fog over.

When he laid down his winning hand, you groaned, glaring at him. “Fine. What do you want?”

Rhys leaned in, brushing his lips against your ear, his voice a slow, sinful purr. “You. Every second of tonight, in whatever way I please.”

Your heart skipped a beat, throat tightening. Not that you were complaining. Or that he didn’t already have you however he pleased often. You swallowed hard, shrugging in what you hoped was a nonchalant gesture. “Fine.”

Before you could blink, darkness surrounded you, and the next thing you knew, you were standing on a balcony overlooking Velaris, the city glowing beneath the moonlight. Rhys stood behind you, his hands sliding to your waist as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. “Open your eyes.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the anticipation. Rhys always found a way to surprise you, ways to keep you on your toes. And you never knew whether the night would be one of slow seduction or raw passion.

Your lips parted in surprise as you took in the sight before you. “Oh.”

The bastard smirked. “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

You turned to him, mock glaring. “In my defense, you were insinuating something else.”

“You have a dirty mind, darling,” he teased, his grin widening as your glare deepened. 

Before you could retort, he leaned down again, his voice brushing against your skin like silk. “Don’t worry, you weren’t wrong.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before lowering his lips to your ear once more, drawing out every word, slow and deliberate. “But first, dinner.” A pause, then, just as your breath caught- “I’m feeding you before I feast on you.”

Your eyes widened, heat flooding your cheeks as you smacked his chest. “Rhys!”

He chuckled, catching your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Come on, darling,” he murmured, tugging you inside.

Lucien

Lucien was a hopeless romantic. He spoiled you every day and every night. But today, he was determined to spoil you even more. 

You woke to the softest of touches, featherlight kisses pressed to your face, the warmth of his lips trailing along your jaw. A gentle hum rumbled in his chest, the only indication of his presence as he continued his slow, unhurried worship.

It was only when you stirred, a sleepy murmur escaping your lips, that he finally spoke, his voice low and affectionate. 

“Good morning, my love,” he murmured against your skin.

You groaned softly, your voice husky with sleep. “Mm, morning.”

Lucien chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before tilting your chin up. “Come on, wake up. I’ve planned a lot today, starting with breakfast.”

When you finally opened, you saw a beautifully arranged tray sitting on the bedside table. Your favorite fruits and pastries, along with a delicate teapot filled with your preferred brew Everything meticulously placed, because of course Lucien would make sure the presentation was just as perfect as the taste. 

“Lucien,” you whispered, your heart clenching at the effort he had put into this. “You shouldn’t have.”

He only smiled, brushing his lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. “Of course, I should. You deserve nothing less.”

After breakfast, he led you outside, winnowing the two of you to the Dawn Court.

Your breath hitched at the sight, the golden hues of the rising sun reflecting off the crystal clear lakes, soft melodies of birdsong filling the air. Everything about the Dawn Court was serene, ethereal, and today, he had planned the most romantic day imaginable.

The day unfolded like a dream. Horseback riding through rolling meadows, Lucien effortlessly guiding the reigns with one hand while keeping you steady with the other. Then, a private boat ride on the lake, where he reclined lazily, one arm draped around your shoulders, his other hand trailing absentmindedly through the water as you talked about everything and nothing at all.

As the day faded into twilight, Lucien winnowed you both to a quiet hilltop overlooking the sunset. The sky was a masterpiece of oranges and violets, the cool breeze tangling your hair as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding you close against his chest. His chin rested atop your head, his heartbeat steady against your back.

That night, after winnowing back home, he sat you down in front of the fireplace, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled a folded letter from his pocket. His amber eye flickered with emotion as he met your gaze. “I wrote this before we were together,” he admitted, handing it to you. “I never had the courage to send it.”

You carefully unfolded the paper, your breath catching as you read the words, his confession, his longing, the love he had harbored in silence for so long. The ink was slightly smudged, as if he had gone over the words countless times, his heart laid bare on the page.

When you finished, your eyes burned with unshed tears. “Lucien…”

But before you could say anything more, he reached for another paper,  his lips quirking into a shy smile. “That was then. But now…” He cleared his throat, straightening his posture. 

And then, he recited a poem. A poem he had written just for you. His voice was deep, smooth, steady, filled with adoration and reverence. Every line a promise, every syllable laced with love, By the time he finished, your heart was a mess of warmth and something else. You didn’t hesitate before launching yourself into his arms, kissing him deeply, hungrily, whispering his name like a vow.  Lucien chuckled against your lips, holding you tight, as if he never planned to let go.

“You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me,” he whispered, and you knew, he meant every word.

Eris

Eris did not do romance. 

He scoffed at the very idea of Lovers’ Day, calling it foolish, a ridiculous excuse for people to parade their affection like desperate fools. 

And yet- he still sent for you.

Later that evening, you arrive at your usual meeting point between your two courts. Eris was already there, leaning against a tree, arms crossed, his face carefully impassive.

He was fiddling with something- a small box, rolling it between his fingers.

 When he saw you approaching, he straightened forcing himself into stillness, his voice carefully nonchalant. “You came.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You said it was urgent. What’s wrong this time?” 

His smirk was slow, calculated. “It was urgent. I needed to see you.” He pushed off the tree, approaching you with lazy, confident steps, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed something deeper. He stopped just in front of you, holding out the small box. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

You raised a brow but took it anyway, fingers brushing over the carefully wrapped edges. “I thought you didn’t believe in this holiday?”

He scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t. I just…” His jaw ticked as he glanced away. “Wanted to get you something.”

A smirk curled on your lips. “Ah, and it just happens to be on this specific day?”

His eyes snapped back to you, sharp as embers. “Don’t push your luck.” 

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “You really called me all the way here for this? You’re starting to make a habit out of it. Next time, I might not-”

You didn’t get to finish the sentence. Because in a single, swift movement, Eris closed the distance, grasped your face, and crashed his lips against yours.

The heat of him was blistering, unbearable- yet you couldn’t pull away. Didn’t want to. 

The kiss was measured yet scorching, each calculated movement knocking the breath from your lungs. His mouth moved with slow precision, as if he were branding himself into you, as if he hated how much he wanted this but couldn’t stop himself.

When he finally pulled back, you smirked against his lips, murmuring, “Next time, lead with that.”

His grip tightened slightly on your chin, his thumb brushing over your jaw in warning. “Shut up,” he muttered, before tilting your head up and kissing you again, deeper this time, hungrier, as if he were making damn sure you’d never forget the way he tasted- like fire and temptation, like something dangerous you’d willingly burn for.

[g00seg1rl]

Change in Menu

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra

Summary: Eris had Rhysand go through lots of trouble to deliver Autumn Court freshly baked goods to the House of Wind to prepare for his visit. Too bad Rhysie had to go through all that work when Azriel’s ass ended up being so much more delectable.

A/N: Hello loves, this is a smutty drabble of Eris eating ass for the first time, and Azriel having his ass ate for the first time for @sjmprideweek Day Two: Firsts

All 1.2k slutty words are below the cut, I hope you enjoy 😘🫶

Forgotten flaky cheese pastries and deep mugs of oolong tea decorated the shellacked slate table in the center of the vast dining room. Azriel’s shadows delicately moved the meal to the side, complicit in Eris’s change of the breakfast menu.

Eris always appreciated those freaky fucks.

As Eris’s knees hit the ground with a soft thud, he pulled Azriel’s leather pants over the swell of his toned ass. He bit the fat of his left cheek, savoring the yelp the Shadowsinger couldn’t hold back.

He also just liked Azriel’s ass–always bouncing slightly as he walked, the small jiggling rebound after receiving an admonishing slap or appreciative spank and the glorious applaud he always got when Eris fucked him from behind. Just a wet clap, clap, clap that put a smile on his face and made his balls tighten with lust.

He let his cold rings bite into Azriel’s spread, fleshy cheeks, smirking at the pretty shiver he pulled from Azriel’s toned, arched body. He blew gently against Azriel’s fluttering hole, chuckling at the muffled whimper Azriel tried covering with his elbow.

“Oh don’t hide away, darling. Why allow me the honor of having such an intimate part of you if I can’t hear you scream when I take it?” Eris asked with an amused and rhetorical tone.

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I knew ass eating involved so much talking.”

“Liar.” Eris knew oh so entertainingly well that Azriel was enjoying his... oh what’s a demure way to put it? Verbal appetite… by the way his cock twitched when Eris called him darling and, more predictably, when Eris mentioned Azriel’s penchant for screaming. Or perhaps Azriel was aroused that Eris was making his intentions clearer than he typically did.

Azriel, the glorious brat that he was, shoved his ass back against Eris’s hands, bonking his hole sloppily against Eris’s nose.

Eris huffed and nipped the taut, sensitive skin between Azriel’s right thigh and cheek, licking the pain away softly before trailing his hot tongue towards Azriel’s clenching hole.

Eris had eaten out females before, many times for many hours– till the pretty, petite fae were writhing, shrieking and sopping as Eris had his unrelenting time boinking his tongue deep into their squelching cunts.

But he’d never tasted a male’s hole before, let alone someone as discreet and private as the Shadowsinger–now only an inch from Eris’s starved tongue. His mouth watered, and he let the spit pool on the edge of his tongue as he slowly, softly, deliberately pressed the tip of his wanton tongue to circle Azriel’s ever-so-unfurling hole.

Thankfully, Azriel had nothing to compare it to, having never let anyone’s mouth this close to his hole.

He didn’t dip into where he wanted to be- not yet. He repeated the roundabout path, adding more pressure each time, eliciting deeper moans from Azriel at each pass, each time he thought Eris was about to delve in.

They both moaned as Az relaxed enough to allow Eris to slip past the ring of muscle, vastly different to what he’d experienced on his tongue thus far. He may be centuries old but there had never been a partner that he’d ever been close enough with to, well… He curved his tongue slightly and drew a low whine from Azriel.

“Ooh-ahh!” Azriel’s sweet moan broke into a throaty groan as Eris’s tongue pushed its way in further, ignoring the moist clenching resistance from Azriel’s ass that was attempting to slow down his expedition.

Eris hummed and distracted Azriel with a tight hand on his hard dick, squeezing his wet fist around Azriel’s cock that was noticeably, amusingly, twitching whenever Eris passed over a certain areaaa… there; Azriel’s cock pulsed in his hand and Eris marked that spot in his head.

And then he bullied it, harshly, cruelly, lovingly.

Azriel’s thick thighs twitched around him, sharpening the edges of his lips that were still kissing Azriel’s hole. He pulled his tongue back to Azriel’s contracting rim to briefly collect his thoughts.

Firstly, it was far easier than eating pussy. Not as many folds or possibility of missing marks. And Azriel was so very responsive– his hips tilted in various directions, trying to control where the tip of Eris’s tongue would target.

There’d be none of that.

Eris released his grip on Azriel’s cheek and cock to hold his hips down, flush against the hard tabletop, trapping Azriel’s cock between his body and the cool surface. A needy yowl rushed out of Az.

“Ah fuck, Eris what? C’mon you were the one who wanted to do this,” Az whined.

“Oh do you not want to be doing this Azriel?” Eris pulled back to coo rhetorically.

“I do! Jus’ wanna come too,” Azriel explained between whimpers as Eris bobbed his head back and forth, pumping his tongue as deep as it could go before pulling back to swish his tongue over Azriel’s entrance filthily, creating a mess he wouldn’t allow Azriel to clean up.

He pooled some more saliva and pushed as many limits as he could, pushing down on Azriel’s lower back, placing pressure on his shaft as he swirled his tongue down to that spot he’d noted, slurping his curved tongue across the velvety anterior wall of Azriel’s begging hole.

“Wanna come, baby? Then go, not stopping you, am I?” Eris taunted, knowing his full body weight crushing his dick would cause some… orgasmic technical difficulties.

“Oh come on Eris, please just jerk me off- I- I think I hear someone.”

Oh, he did.

Cassian and Nesta should be returning from their private training session just about now. Now being three weeks after they found Nesta sat on this very table with her thighs spread out over Cassian’s plate. Eris had been taking his meals in Azriel’s room whenever he was simply too tired to winnow back to Autumn, or on the honest days, when he wanted to hold Azriel in his arms or tuck himself with a novel between his spanning wings.

Azriel, like the torture-device that he is- clamped down on his tongue painfully as the door to the upstairs arena clicked open.

Eris lifted his hands and allowed Azriel to jerk into his fist as he targeted his now bullied sweet spot with his tongue. Azriel came screaming Eris’s name as the startled and sweaty Nesta and Cassian strolled into the heady atmosphere of the room.

“I told you I heard something, Cassian,” Nesta said, exasperated. A hit and an abrupt expulsion of Cass’s breath painted an amusing picture of him getting punched.

Although he was painfully hard, Eris glamoured his length to his typical level of bulge and stood at his own, unhurried pace. He pulled Azriel’s trousers back over his perked ass, neglecting to clean up any of the mess before slapping his now leather-clad booty with a sharp hand.

“Should’ve listened to her, Cass,” Eris said with a grin. Moving to grab one of the chairs and place it behind Azriel who sat gratefully with a plonk, his eyes fluttered shut once he found stability. He rested his scarred palms flat on the table as if he was still dizzy from coming.

Thank you so much @the-darkestminds for beta reading, you are the best ily mami🫂💗

Taggin some sexy Azris babes: @nus4y @jules-writes-stories @astro-h0e-4azris @mistandmemories @mudandmire @chunkypossum @fourteentrout @molcat07 @ninthcircleofprythian @3xolara @irithiadourden @iftheshoef1tz @pippsmcgee @neciebee please lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future smutty drabbles/fics

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

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Love and Hate

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In which I write random Azris drabbles instead of working on my other WIPs.

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Eris/Azriel

Rating: Explicit

Triggers: Hate Sex

Chapters: Masterlist

Length: 218 words

Read on AO3 or below the cut

They grew up despising each other. Azriel, the moody outcast. Eris, the privileged son of a senator. Never were a pair of boys more diametrically opposed than those two. They went to different classes, had different friends, and might as well have existed in two entirely different worlds. The few times they interacted in public they went out of their way to advertise their disdain. 

But, as everyone knew, there was a fine line between love and hate. 

A very, very fine line. 

“I fucking hate you,” Azriel grunted, shoving Eris’s pretty, pretty face into the bed as he sank in deep. 

“Likewise,” Eris replied with a shivery gasp, fingers clutching at his sheets like a lifeline. 

He’d had sex. He liked sex. But never…like this. Like he was just a thing to be used. 

It felt…it felt…

His orgasm rushed through him so fast he barely had time to realize what was happening before he was coming all over his expensive sheets. 

Azriel laughed. 

“A little quick off the draw huh?” He panted in his ear. And then he was following suit, pumping Eris full of his cum and all the other boy could do was take it. 

“I still hate you.”

Azriel, hummed in response, nuzzling into the back of his neck. 

“I know.” 

Enjoy this fic? Looking for another like it? Try reading my other Azris fic: Be Thankful I Don't Take It All.

Or, alternatively, check out my ACOTAR Fic Masterlists.

Thanks for reading! 🧡

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Tag List: (If you would like to be added/removed to/from this or future tag lists for this fic please let me know 🙂)

@astro-h0e-4azris @brunetterebel010 @chunkypossum @irithiadourden @pippsmcgee @secret-third-thing @talibunny30

[thisblogisaboutabook]

When the Lightsinger Calls (I Hear a Symphony)

An Azriel Drabble

Azriel daydreams of his mate -Inspired by ‘I Hear a Symphony’ by Cody Fry

I used to hear a simple song.

The warm winds of summer blew through the Illyrian mountains as Azriel sat sprawled on a thick branch fifty feet in the air, one leather covered leg dangling as the other stretched across the branch, his back resting against the trunk of an old Oak tree.

Cassian had been butting heads with Devlon for hours. Same shit, different day as they heatedly negotiated new terms for the training of Illyrian females. Devlon, of course, remained as stubborn as an ass. Even after decades of his bullshit, it never failed to chafe Azriel’s nerves that they were under the regime of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history yet had to make nice with stuck-in-their-ways pricks like him. Today in particular had left Azriel feeling less than giving.

Cassian booted Azriel out of negotiations in record time, which admittedly, was likely for the best. Azriel’s dominant stance, deadly gaze, and violent whirling shadows were not best suited for these futile attempts of “sweet talking” Devlon out of his deeply rooted misogyny. If Azriel had his way Truth Teller would do all the talking, but diplomacy unfortunately took precedence.

He may have put up more of a fight when storming out of the Camp Lord’s office had Cassian’s weapon of choice today not had a unique way of toeing that line between diplomacy and force in a way that even Truth Teller could not. No blood spillage necessary, though, Azriel thought with a smirk, the weapon could do just that as well.

The warmth of the suns rays shining through the rustling leaves and the scratch of bark lightly grazing the sensitive membranes of his wings - hitting those spots he could never quite reach - had Azriel drifting off into a light dream state.

As he began to doze, shadows hummed around him, the whistling breeze mixing in with their whirring as they sensed for any incoming threats.

Blending in with their simple song, the creek nearby babbled with the sounds of trickling water, crickets chirped beneath rocks below.

His thoughts became more vivid as his conscience drifted deeper into sleep.

His jaw ticked, wings jerking slightly as he dreamed glimpses of deep red coating his marred skin from the countless souls he’d drawn blood from, lifeless bodies scattered across bloody battlefields, dark cells, the bright flare of roaring fire scalding a child’s hands, his shadows melody becoming broken as they attempted to soothe their master.

The melody became lighter as the flame in his dreams became flashes of light, blurred glimpses of a lovely face appearing in and out of his dreams. A soft laugh intertwined itself with his shadows, the solemn hymn becoming lighter, with vibrant bursts of energy leaving his heart fluttering. More images of the ethereal face flickered through his mind, soft blush dusted cheeks, a radiant white smile, supple fingers tracing the muscles of his chest, plush lips on bare skin, all appearing to the beat of the rising staccato. His lips quirked upward in his sleep as his guard dropped lower and lower and the melody continued growing louder, building into the crescendo of the loveliest symphony he’d heard yet, even in Prythian’s most renowned concert halls.

The music filled Azriel’s entire being, leaving him light as shadow, his flaws forging themselves from ugly into something beautiful, something worthy, as the melody carried his soul toward the light.

Just as his body began to slump out of the tree a sing-song voice brighter than day awoke him. “Careful, Shadowsinger. One might think you’re sleeping on the job.”

He looked down to his beautiful mate, the face his dream had called him to. “My little Lightsinger, did you give Devlon hell?”

She beamed. “Worked a little on him. The girls get seven more hours per week and Cass or I can do spot checks whenever we please. I’ll push for more when we meet again in a few months.”

“That’s my girl.” His eyes shone with the pride filling his chest as he launched out of the tree and swept her off her feet.

“Let’s go home.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his nose. Azriel only blushed and did just as his lady said, the two falling into companionable silence as her light and his shadow mingled in harmony the entire flight back to Velaris.

And now I hear a symphony.

———————————————-

[born-to-riot]

Messaging you... like this?

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

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

Request by: @hieragalbatorixdottir

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How is he supposed to accept that?

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

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

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

[chairofchaos]

The Power of Jewelry

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra (fluffy fluffy fluffy)

Summary: Eris has a little secret. Actually, it’s a few secrets. Stored in a box. Above the bed he shares with Azriel. (It’s fluff. I pinky promise!)

Rating: Teen/PG-13

Word Count: <1000

A/N: What can I say? My fingers slipped again. Oops. Based on this post. Fits in @azrisweek Day Four!

Azriel lurked in the doorway watching his mate rifle through a box he had pulled down from the shelf above the bed. He had thought the box was empty, but Eris seemed intent on finding whatever he was looking for.

Quickly, quickly, his shadows had urged him, guiding him to the bedroom. But instead of finding his mate in the state which usually got the shadows excited for him to enter the bedroom, he found his mate being sneaky. There was very little they hid from each other, usually presents or other surprises. But Azriel, attentive though he was, had never caught his mate red handed.

“Can I help you find something?”

Eris’ head snapped around to face him. He looked guilty, not disappointed. Interesting.

“I’m looking for a… piece of jewelry,” Eris said awkwardly.

“Well, let’s see,” Azriel nodded to the box. “I didn’t realize you kept jewelry in there. Is it earrings? You left a pair in the bathroom yesterday.”

Eris licked his bottom lip. Oh, he was hiding something.

“No, I knew those were there,” he said evenly.

Azriel only quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

Eris rolled his eyes and tucked his hands by his sides, straightening with a huff. “I’m looking for a ring.”

“A ring.”

“Yes.”

“You’re already wearing your usuals. And you’re wearing your wedding ring.”

“My most important ring,” Eris mused with a small smirk. Azriel smiled, but ignored his comment.

“Why is it so important?”

Eris couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “I have a meeting.”

“A meeting.”

“Az…” Eris started to protest, but Azriel only shook his head and motioned for him to continue. “Does it matter?”

“It does if you’re making this big of a deal out of it,” Azriel countered.

Eris muttered something so low that even Azriel couldn’t hear it. Whatever it was, it made Azriel’s shadows start to churn. Even his prompting them didn’t break their silent, furious spinning.

“Eris.”

“They’re engagement rings.” Eris’ eyes were wary, but not guilty.

Azriel was shocked enough that it took him more than a moment to respond.

“What?”

“I… this box, they’re the engagement rings from the proposals my father forced me to make. I started picking jewelry that I would like, things I could wear.”

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh at the sorry expression Eris made as he finished his little tale. Eris’ brows were furrowed with frustration even as the corner of his mouth twitched up. His eyes reflected only amusement and apology.

“So these are the rings, then? What, did you lose a favorite?”

Eris winced. “Um… not exactly.”

He does not want to admit what he is doing, his shadows whispered in his ears. Azriel ignored them. That was obvious enough, even though his shadows seemed to be seething at the idea Eris was hiding something.

“Eris. Please just spit it out.”

“I’m meeting with one of the females and her father today to discuss a trade deal and I usually wear the rings to the meetings to throw them off,” Eris groans, laughing a bit as he sits on the edge of the bed.

The box tips over from the movement- and suddenly, Azriel understands. A small mountain of rings topple and roll from the box, settling in a little pile of fine metals and gemstones, all unique.

“How many?” Azriel breathed, crossing the room to brush his fingers against them. They were rather lovely. And Azriel recognized a few of them, ones that had graced his mate’s long fingers and then disappeared after a day or two.

“Twenty three,” Eris groaned, flopping backwards onto the bed with such an uncanny resemblance to Azriel’s teenage nephew that he couldn’t help but snort, then school his features into something a little less… bewildered.

“Twenty three proposals?” It was a shocking number, even for a male who had been alive and unmarried as long as Eris.

“There were more before I started picking rings I knew I’d use once I convinced them to say no,” Eris grumbled.

“So, twenty three rings. That you picked for yourself, under the guise of engagement rings.”

Eris nodded. “I actually came to love it. A little bit of freedom.”

“And now, what, you wear them to taunt them?”

“You’d be surprised how often it turns the tide in my favor.”

“How so?”

“I once startled a courtier so much she agreed to an agreement which gave me the power to control half her land for a decade.”

“Cauldron,” Azriel shook his head, biting back a smirk. “And today’s ring?”

Eris blushed. “I’m meeting with the father of the sixteenth female I proposed to. He flew into such a rage when she broke off the engagement that I took her away to Day, where she claimed asylum. He hasn’t seen her since. His glower gets angrier each time I wear it, and I’ve done his daughter the favor of keeping her in the loop of all the stupid things his rage makes him do.”

“You, my devious, lovely trickster,” Azriel bent to kiss Eris, smiling. “I love you.”

Eris pulled him in for another kiss, and Azriel let his weight fall atop his mate. The rings clinked, a couple of them rolling off the bed with thuds betraying their various weights. “I love you too.”

The shadows swirled around them both, their fury gone as suddenly as it had come. After a moment, Eris pushed Azriel back a few inches. “D’you know my favorite ring of all?” He murmured against Azriel’s lips.

“No idea,” Azriel smiled, pressing a kiss to Eris’ jaw. He knew. He always knew.

Eris smirked at Azriel’s indulgence, pulling his mate’s left hand slowly to his mouth to press a gentle kiss along the gold wedding band circling his ring finger.

“This one, right here.”

[fourteentrout]

Azriel had waited. He had waited for five hundred years to find his mate. His equal.

That's the kicker, wasn't it? His equal. How could he find that, when he was Death itself. When he looked into the bloody mouths of his victims, Truth Teller in his grasp, and he could not see anything but his own reflection staring back at him. Built upon fingernails and severed toes, built upon a burst of blue that burnt like fire, built upon a blade that sang when it cut through flesh. Calculated death, something beyond rage, something beyond a quest for justice. Something not borne out of impulse or uncontrolled power, but out of a carefully constructed network of lacerations, each placed with more thought than the last.

What, out there, was equal to that?

Oh, how cruel, he thought.

Is this what it is? Is this what an equal is? Someone with fists wreathed in flame, who could wield what Azriel's hands hadn't been able to survive.

Fire itself mated to the burnt.

Someone tortured, mated to a torturer.

How cruel to him, he thought, flames dancing in his head.

Was it cruelty, though? Or simply justice? That fire lord with lashes across his back was no hero. He was the worst of the worst, and his pain didn't make him any better. It just made him both the victim and the tyrant. It allowed him to play both sides. He himself was cruel.

Eris was nothing like who Azriel had thrown himself at. Eris was unkind, unable to wield his flaming hands with the same delicate niceness of Elain. Eris was a sneaky, manipulative, slithering thing, a stranger to the blunt authenticity of Mor. Eris would never be able to turn to the sunlight the way she did. Eris would never be able to speak with words like honey the way Elain did.

Azriel had never earned those words, anyway.

This is what it is, then, he thought. Two people who got exactly what they deserved. Fated to share something so pure, so clean, with someone who was decidedly not. The thing he had slogged through five centuries of silent desperation for a female who would never love him back for, finally granted to him--only with someone just out of reach. Perhaps, if he wanted, he could reach out a hand.

But he didn't want to. It was easier to stay angry, easier to pretend that he didn't deserve something as honorable as a mating bond, like he had during those five hundred years of waiting.

He did, though. He was getting exactly what he paid for.

His hands were soaked with the blood of a thousand, a hundred thousand, too many for Azriel to feel bad for. Eris' hands burst with the same flame that had once bathed Azriel's own. They delivered each other's scars, Azriel supposed. His mottled skin would be familiar to Eris. How many people has he burned, Azriel wondered. The scars that littered Eris' perfect High Fae body were the same Azriel imparted dutifully upon anyone unlucky enough to find themselves in his chamber. How cruel, to look at the one tied to your soul and see an assignment. The same methodical job he imparted on the prisoners in the dungeons, blanketing the one he was supposed to be able to look at reverently. How could he?

Eris was always a slimy bastard, anyway. Azriel could never love him, just as he would never love Azriel. It was upon principle, more than anything.

And perhaps it was easier that way. Perhaps his hands would thank him, kept safe from the fire that they still shied away from, centuries later.

How cruel, he thought as his chest throbbed with that bond.

Azriel had waited his whole life for something he knew, in his soul, he would never deserve. But of course, the Mother found Her ways. To give him what he wanted more than anything in the world.

To give him something he would never be able to have.

Not when he was one who supplied torture, and his mate was one who received it. Not when he was scarred with burns, and his mate could light the fire with half a thought.

How cruel, he thought, that I could not have been better. That I could not have become someone able to earn something good.

That even the mating bond could be twisted into something to punish him, something to prove his unworthiness. It was right there, and yet he couldn't have it. Would never be able to face that. The fact that he and his mate were everything that had made the other suffer. Why, he wondered, had he wanted it so? Had he not realized that to be granted that, he would have to look into the eyes of another and see himself reflected back? The one person that could break him.

After a lifetime of waiting, he had finally gotten what he wanted. But he had also finally gotten what he deserved.