#soft azris makes me weak

[withmychainzon]

What if I promise you by Black Friday? What if I promise you by Black Friday and I give you a snippet of the chapter? Will you forgive me for my literal year long absence? 🥺🥺

Proof of life (both me and the doc)

[shadowsandlint]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @beesays ❤️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have seven works on ao3; four one shots and three with multiple chapters.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

85,777 words!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only ACOTAR so far, but I'm not opposed to dabbling in others.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Words We Use in the Shadows

Autumn Winds Across the Sea

Your Scars on My Pulse

O Holy Night! The Stars Are Brightly Shining

O Night Devine!

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I try to do it as quickly as possible, but sometimes it takes a while to think out what to answer, especially if the comments are long.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh, definitely A Court of Self-Destructive Coping Mechanisms! It's about Nesta before her "intervention", so the angst is high.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Eeeh, I don't feel like I have written any with explicitly happy endings? It's a lot more ambiguous, with happiness existing alongside more painful feelings. But maaaybe Autumn Winds Across the Sea?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Noo, but sometimes I get frustration because of what the characters do, ehe

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not a lot of smut, but some. I mostly write Azris, so M/M with soft dom vibes, though the one smut scene (so far) in WWUitS is kind of dark and angsty.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No crossovers per se, but my AU Words We Use in the Shadows has a modern university setting where Azriel and Eris study literature, and so other literary works are very important to the story. There's a selection of poems that make an appearance, as well as Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time. The latter is the story's founding father, so to say.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, luckily.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but that would be cool!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

AZRIS!!! But I do enjoy other ships too, both with and without those characters. :)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Hmm, maybe Mor's origin story for Your Scars on My Pulse? I'm not the biggest fan of her, which makes it hard to write her as the MC.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Writing feelings, especially angst. What can I say, I've got that Big Sad Energy.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm a slow writer. That perfectionism is really out to get me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'd love to if it fit in with the story! I am bilingual, so it's definitely doable.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

ACOTAR is the first fandom I've posted my works for, but I'm sure there are some embarrassing teenage texts on an old computer somewhere.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Words We Use in the Shadows is my favorite, even if it's not done yet. But I think that Autumn Winds Across the Sea is my best writing.

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 30 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter*

Masterlist with all previous chapters

*****

Feyre's face was ashen, the dark smudges under her eyes from stress more pronounced, her movements slower than usual, almost, she looked almost human. Still, her face brightened when Gwyn knocked gently on the door,

"How is he?"

"Alive." Feyre murmured, "And getting stronger by the minute, he was up for a couple of hours earlier, but he'll need a little more time to recover fully, much to his annoyance." Gwyn took the seat across from her High Lady, her friend, her sister, and squeezed both of her hands,

"Is there anything that Madja could do?"

"Not now, the pain medicine she left is working, and it's just because of the ash, two days isn't long, he'll be fighting fit in another two no doubt." Gwyn wished she had something, anything to offer, any kernel of magic that might help, although if Feyre's own was useless, Gwyn doubted that she would be able to do anything meaningful. "You have done enough," Feyre murmured, as if aware of the direction her thoughts had taken, and Gwyn looked up suddenly, checking automatically to find her mental shields intact, "I don't need to hear your thoughts to understand how you feel,"

"Is it worth speaking to the High Lord of Dawn?" Gwyn asked, and Feyre laughed, a soft, light chuckle, her immortal glow returning at the sound,

"No, it'd just make it look like we were weak, all he needs is time, for now, we can give him that, but I appreciate your concern," Gwyn still wasn't convinced, but Feyre was certain, "Did you think about my offer?" Yes, and no, she'd thought about it, and put if off,

"Yes, but I still haven't come to a conclusion, I love having wings, the potential to learn to fly, but it's not mine, it's such a big change to my body, I'm not ready for anything like that permanently, I've only just learned to make my body my own again."

"Then I'll vanish them, but you know, you can always ask, any time, and I'll summon them again should you want me to," Gwyn nodded her thanks as she stood so that Feyre could see to guide her magic, and braced herself, stumbling forwards as she re-balanced herself after the weight of the wings vanished from her back, she hadn't realized quite how differently she'd been standing with them there. Still, it was good to have returned to normal, even if a part of her sighed in resignation at the loss of her wings, a part of her still longed to fly with the wind, to answer the call in her blood, but not like this, this was not her, if she was destined to fly, she would do it through herself, not through a friend's magic.

The hour she had free passed in a blink, the clock chiming out the hour before Gwyn was ready to leave, reluctantly handing Nyx back to his mother from where he'd crawled into her lap a while ago. She shot one last look across at Rhys' sleeping form before bidding goodbye to Feyre and practically sprinting to make it to the training room on time.

Thankfully, she was only a few moments late, and no-one seemed to notice, no-one except Emerie, who nodded a greeting from where she was leaning against the wall, watching Nesta explaining the tests to the trainee medics.

"No wings?"

"It wasn't me, I couldn't change my body like that permanently," Emerie nodded her understanding and allowed them to fall into a comforting silence, her gaze running over the room, the series of tests that they'd spent the past week planning, much to Cassian's delight. Now, fully taking in the first test, Gwyn thought he may have been right in accusing them of being worse than him and Azriel, well, not Azriel. Cauldron knew that Gwyn had fully expected to collapse from exhaustion at almost every one of Azriel's tests, but she hadn't, she'd completed them all, had proved to him, but more to herself, that she could do it.

Unconsciously, Gwyn's gaze flicked around the room, seeking out the familiar swirl of shadows that betrayed where Azriel was hiding, but when Gwyn's gaze fell on Azriel, he wasn't hiding in the shadows anymore, not the true shadows anyway, his own were darting around, feeling out the area, but he was there, smiling. Gwyn glanced away before he could catch her staring, but she smiled to herself, the past couple of days' training had been a nightmare to say the least, Azriel had been loathe to step out of the darkness of the room's corners, seeming to blend into it, his way of hiding from Rhys' absence. Nothing Gwyn had said had made him change that habit, while he'd been better away from training, when he couldn't stare aimlessly at the neat row of spears lining the wall he'd seemed to relax. But today he wasn't hiding any more, wasn't brooding over his misplaced guilt. She didn't have time to wonder why.

Gwyn tore her gaze away, moving to supervise her test, quite possibly the hardest of them all, designed to test the trainees' fitness, balance and memory all at once, it was the closest that they could get to the rigors of an actual battlefield, and while Gwyn had thankfully never set foot on one, she'd based it on the skills she'd needed to survive the Blood Rite. She grinned at the wide eyes and nervous shuffling from her group when she asked for a volunteer to go first,

"It won't kill you, I promise, besides I've been watching you all train, every one of you can pass this." She didn't notice that the words mirrored those Azriel had said to her so many times, not as she promised that she wouldn't ask them to do it if she doubted their ability, or when she teased that at least one of them must be brave enough. She didn't notice Azriel's eyes fixed on her, didn't notice the smile, the way he relaxed, she didn't notice the pride practically radiating off him as he watched, utterly transfixed by her. No, all her attention was fixed on the female who stepped forwards, ebony skin already gleaming with sweat from the heat and their warm-up, but that grin, that cocky grin, Gwyn watched her closely, a strong sense of approval filling her at the way she bounced on her toes, keeping her weight light, ready to move, how she planted each foot carefully but quickly.

Gwyn made no attempt to halt the grin spreading across her face as the female hauled herself up, bypassing the worst obstacle, only to find herself faced with a daunting balance beam, one that Gwyn had fallen from on her first test run two days ago. Her hip still ached from where she'd fallen onto it, but it was no great injury, her pride having taken a greater beating than her body. But this female only hesitated a heartbeat before running across the beam, her arms tucked close to her body, feet moving so quickly that she could have been flying, until she leaped from the end, tucking into a roll as she landed, the course lying behind her, defeated at the first attempt.

Gwyn made no secret of her amazement at the female's ability, simply clapping her hands together and cheering. Still, her curiosity got the better of her,

"I don't recall teaching that kind of agility," she said as she handed the successful female a cup of water, listening to her breathing whilst watching the next female step up, "That was seriously impressive,"

"My mother," she panted, "She was from Dawn, a stunt performer, she taught me, taught me some tricks,"

"Deep breaths," Gwyn ordered, "Recover first," she recognized the panting breaths beside her, recognized but didn't worry, if the female's breathing sped up she'd coach her through it, but she seemed fine. "In a minute once you're feeling recovered go and have a chat to Cassian about that test." Gwyn looked across at the quiet snort of surprise, "We can teach the basics, but I'm sure you noticed he and Azriel taught you most of what you know, Cass'll be able to give some extra advice better than me," the female nodded, an Gwyn narrowed her eyes at the shout of surprise from the course, the second female having attempted the same trick, but her sweat-slick hands had slipped, leaving her panting on the floor.

Gwyn shouted encouragement, directing her to the alternative, longer route that she'd need to take, but to her credit, the female didn't complain, only grunted at the effort of the course, but she made it, as Gwyn had expected her to.

The next few females passed the course with varying degrees of difficulty, each had their own skills, their own strengths and weaknesses, but every one of them was able to use what she had learned to pass not only the physical test, but the treatment of 'casualties' they came across. They were just dummies, but enchanted to carry different 'injuries' requiring fairly simple treatment, the difficult treatment was another test, the one Emerie and Madja were supervising, Nesta was leading in assessing their basic combat skills.

There was no sound, no change in the breeze to alert her to a different scent, but somehow she knew, a presence, an instinct perhaps. Gwyn was running before she'd finished turning, was running at the first glimpse of another set of Illyrian wings. Rhys grunted as she threw her arms around him, careful to avoid the just-healed wound on his side. It wasn't as if she'd expected him not to recover, but seeing him up, it drew up all the emotion she had felt, and all that she hadn't,

"Thank you," she whispered, "Thank you," she hardly registered Cassian taking her place to supervise the test, absolutely missed the way Azriel's attention had snapped to her, and only her, "You saved him,"

"You have nothing to thank me for," the sound of his voice broke something, some dam that she'd put up to stop everything from hitting her at once, and before she'd had a chance to process his words, tears were already slipping down her face,

"I have everything to thank you for," she murmured, stepping back a pace to check that he wasn't in pain, wasn't more badly injured than they'd thought, "You saved him," she said again, "That is a debt I can never repay, but, should you ever need my help," she trailed off at the look in his eyes, something she hadn't expected, some sort of joy, but not at being recovered, or seeing the training, seeing his brothers, it was something that had sparked when she'd mentioned Azriel.

"I should be thanking you, you brought him to life,"

"I love him," she said simply, there was nothing more she could say, she loved him, and she couldn't possibly imagine her life without him, if she lost him, a part of her would go with him, to the next life, to wherever he moved on to, her heart, broken and healing belonged wholly to him, her was her always, her forever, there was, could be, no-one else, not now, not ever. Rhys must have read the thoughts in her eyes because he smiled,

"I know," he allowed Gwyn to wrap her arms around him again, no more words needed, he understood, he understood what he'd done not for Azriel, but for her. Understood, because he'd felt the same, that knee-buckling gratitude when someone saved the love of one's life, he'd nearly lost Feyre, and he'd saved Gwyn from that same grief. Rhys, of all people, Rhys understood. A part of her whispered another word, a reason that he understood, but she couldn't face it just yet, Azriel, he was it for her, but that kind of love, what might happen after, it still frightened her too much, but one day, perhaps she could say that word one day.

It could have been hours or seconds, but when Gwyn finally released Rhys from her embrace, she felt, not saw, felt the gaze of the room upon her. She'd never hugged a male that wasn't Azriel, not even Cassian, and she counted him among her closest friends. She must have said it out loud because Rhys chuckled, then winced as if the motion hurt, Gwyn narrowed her eyes and he held up his hands,

"I'm fine, I swear,"

"You better be,"

"I am!"

"I'll tell Feyre on you if you're not," she promised,

"You wouldn't,"

"I would." She squared her shoulders, "High Lord."

"Good job I'm fine then," he scanned the room, "Has Az been alright?"

"He's," she hesitated, "He blames himself, but he's been better today,"

"You think he'll be okay if I talk to him? I don't want to upset him more,"

"I think," Gwyn silently reached out for Azriel, a sense of clarity finding her, no longer soul-crushing guilt, just clarity, "I think you need to, and he's past the point that seeing you would make it worse," Rhys nodded, and offered her a thankful smile as he slipped past her, his steps slower than usual, and he was favoring his right side, not limping but, not right. She shook her head, wondering when exactly she'd come to recognize his tells, how she knew he wasn't quite right just yet.

She turned her back as shadows swirled darker around Rhys and Azriel, catching a glimpse of what she hoped was merely Azriel's relief at seeing his brother recovered. She couldn't bring herself to watch, glad that Cassian had had the good sense to call a break and usher the medics-in-training outside for some cooler air.

"You alright?" Gwyn almost leapt out of her skin at the sound of his voice beside her,

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay, I'm just, I hope Az is gonna be alright, he seemed different today, I don't want him to go back on that,"

"He won't, if the past is anything to go by, he'll be alright," Gwyn nodded, and moved to follow Nesta outside to where Emerie leaned against the wall by a window, but on an impulse she turned back and threw her arms around Cassian,

"I don't know what you heard,"

"I heard," he muttered, "And I'm slightly offended that Rhys got the first hug, just because he got himself injured, if I'd known that was all it took to get a hug," he teased,

"Shut up," Gwyn clipped, but smiled, "I don't know why I haven't hugged you this far, I should have,"

*****

Rhys was alive. Not dying, not injured, whole, and grinning as he crossed the room. Azriel's usually calm demeanor slipped away under that grin, that trust and love, Rhys was here. Azriel didn't say a word, not as Rhys reached him and pulled him into his arms, no words needed between them, just that reassurance that they were okay, both of them.

"You're limping,"

"I'm alright, Az, I promise, just a little stiff,"

"You sure?"

"Yes, don't worry, Gwyn already promised to tell on me to Feyre if I make it worse," Azriel glanced across the room, searching for her, she'd thanked Rhys for saving him, "She's outside, don't worry," Azriel nodded, still unable to find the right words, but Rhys smiled,

"What?"

"You smiled." Had he? Not that he'd realized, but perhaps he had, he should, that was for sure. Rhys. Rhys was here, chuckling to himself. Azriel smiled again, a small, barely-there smile, but it was enough for the tightness in his chest to release,

He was worried,

Why?

About you, he didn't want you to feel bad.

Rhys raised an eyebrow, noticing the slight difference in Azriel's quiet,

"Were you worried about me?"

"I know how your mind works." Rhys explained, "So yes, I was worried that you'd blame yourself for what someone else did, it wasn't your fault." Wasn't it? But Rhys' tone left no room for argument, and a weight lifted, one he hadn't even realized was there, Rhys didn't blame him, Feyre didn't blame him, Gwyn had insisted it wasn't his fault so perhaps they were right, perhaps it wasn't his fault. "Come on, do you lot never open a window? I'm already sweating and I haven't even done anything,"

"And you're not going to,"

"I know my limits,"

"You're not working out, Rhys,"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, I'll get Gwyn to tell Feyre, and then I'll leave my shadows to force you to stay in bed, you know, not re-injuring yourself," Rhys stepped back, feigning hurt,

"How could you? Ganging up on me! I'm offended,"

"Bullshit. But you are a stubborn prick, wait one day, then you can start some light exercise, but if you try now, it'll be longer, and I'm not having that,"

"Fine, fine, you're an ass, you know that?" Azriel raised an eyebrow, but just shook his head, chuckling softly at the jab, the sense of normalcy it brought.

True to his word, Rhys didn't try to work out, but he did huff in annoyance as he joined Cassian in offering advice and improvements. Still, Azriel kept a close eye on him, having to step in too many times to stop him from demonstrating something that would make his injury worse. He ignored Gwyn's chuckles of amusement at Rhys' annoyance,

"Mother hen," she whispered when he stepped away for the fifth time,

"Oh no, you don't get to talk, miss 'I'll tell your mate on you', you're just as bad,"

"It was the only threat that would work,"

"True, the males of this court seem to have a habit of picking the only females that can exert any control over them as partners," Gwyn rolled her eyes, but Azriel caught sight of her little smile before she smothered it,

"It's not our fault that you all need babysitting, pathetic for 500 year old Carynthian warriors,"

"I'm not the only Carynthian here," Azriel chuckled, "Perhaps we shouldn't bother with all these battle plans, perhaps you three alone would scare them into surrender," Gwyn huffed, but lost her straight face and snorted in laughter,

"Try just Nesta."

"Touché."

tags: @teagoddess99 @brenda5601 @azrielsdarling13 @1helena @shisingh @valkygwyn @soffiiione @toolazymyguy @awesomelena555 @trashforazriel @dealingdifferentdevils @ximena-inlovewithazwyn @almosttenaciousmoon @aightimmaheadoutsblog @alexoik @selfdestructionfetish @cozycomfyliving08

[withmychainzon]

A Burning Shadows Deleted Scene

@theatrequeen said Azris soft boi lap sitting in the server a few days ago and this is what happened.

This is in the Burning Shadows universe, so here’s a link to that if you want to know more about these idiots. 

***

It was just past 5 am and Azriel was sipping coffee at the dining room table, leisurely reading the Autumn Court’s newspaper from yesterday.

Cassian and Nesta sat across from him. Nesta was slowly peeling an orange and Cassian was murmuring  strategies and plans to her while drawing lines with a pencil over a map. Nesta would reply with an agreed hum, or a question every so often, even pointing at the map in certain places. Azriel could have been paying more attention, but he assumed if it was truly important Cassian would have gotten his attention.

They were all required to be up at the House of Wind in half an hour for the next round of Valkyrie training, but were currently enjoying the quiet morning. Azriel didn’t help as often as he once did, letting Gwyn and Emerie and Nesta take the lead. But there were still certain practices that Nesta called him in to teach, and he was always more than willing to help. 

He looked up at the two across from him, heads huddled together amicably. He felt the stirrings of something in his chest — fondness, probably. He had missed living with Cassian and Nesta since they had gotten their own home. They had only stayed the night at the Townhouse out of convenience after spending days in Illyria, bringing Emerie back for further assistance in Valkyrie training. 

As if his own thoughts had summoned her, Emerie stomped down the stairs, sitting herself at the end of the table in a huff. 

“Beds are too damn soft here. Fuckin’ over slept” she grumbled, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

Azriel nodded in agreement, remembering what it had been like to get used to luxury beds. Cassian chuckled heartily and Nesta slid the sugar towards Emerie with a silent smile. 

“How long do you think you’ll need my help this morning?” Azriel asked, turning another page of the newspaper. 

“Busy day today, Az?” Nesta asked with a sharp smile. “Lots of big plans with cute little redheads?” 

Emerie’s head shot up, her eyebrows high on her forehead. He flicked his eyes to Cassian who gave him an imperceptible shake of his head, eyes still focused on the map before him. 

“I have a job, you know.” He said, working not to sound annoyed. It was too early to start a fight with Nesta.

Nesta rolled her eyes in response. He felt a little bad for the trainees, if Nesta was already looking to argue it was going to be a brutal day of training for them. 

In reality, Azriel did have a busy day ahead of him. He had quite a bit to do and catch up on since returning from the continent. But he really just needed to make sure he was back at the Townhouse before ten. Eris liked to scry in the mornings, something to do with the position of the sun and the lack of life altering choices made before noon by the general public. Eris had been perfectly fine scrying at the townhouse since the first time, but Azriel didn’t ever want to chance it and he preferred to be around when Eris went poking around in the future. 

He looked up from the newspaper again to find Emerie still studying him, her eyes following a shadow tentacle that had managed to curl itself around the back of his chair. Azriel gave her a small nod. He was unsurprised to find her gaze stayed on his, as if she was trying to prove she wasn’t scared. The corner of his mouth lifted in the smallest of smiles. 

Azriel had just decided to give up on his reading when the sound of shuffling came from the stairs, his shadows immediately bouncing awake and shifting towards the sound. 

Eris padded into the room, the hood of his sweater — well, it was Azriel’s sweater. Eris had stolen it weeks ago and seemed to assume it belonged to him now — pulled up around his ears, his red hair coming out the bottom messily. Azriel watched as Eris moved towards him, his eyes still mostly closed and hands pressed firmly into the front pocket of the sweater. His shadows had reached Eris already, swirling around his bare ankles as though pulling him closer to Azriel. 

He sleepily made his way over to Azriel’s chair, shoving the chair and Azriel over until there was enough room for Eris to slip his body between the table and crawl into Azriel’s lap. He immediately curled his body into Azriel’s warmth, pulling his bare feet up and shoving them under one of Azriel’s thighs as he nuzzled into the Illyrian’s neck. 

Azriel had moved to accommodate him, wrapping one arm around his waist and pulling him in tight. The hood of Eris’s sweater hid his face as he pressed it against the skin of Azriel’s throat, wiggling a bit until he seemed satisfied with the position. 

“What are you doing awake?” Azriel asked, leaning his head down to rest on Eris’s. 

“Mmm” Eris hummed in response, eyes still closed. His forehead was lined, brows furrowed in his signature displeased expression. “Dream. Stupid. Bed empty. But you were still here.” 

“Haven’t left yet,” Azriel agreed, unable to stop the smile that was growing on his lips. 

Eris didn’t answer, just leaned further into Azriel. He reached up and pulled the hood back enough to put his nose to Eris’s hair and inhale. He smelled so good in the mornings. The apples and leaves and woodsmoke were apparent, but it was always tinged with a little bit of something Azriel knew was himself. It was intoxicating.

It wasn’t until Eris let out a contented sigh that Azriel looked up, remembering that he had a table of breakfast guests. 

Cassian sat with his chin propped on his palm, watching them with big, soft eyes and a shit eating grin. Nesta had both her hands covering her own mouth, eyes popping out as though she was trying to stop herself from saying something. Emerie stared, mouth open, an empty spoon held in her hand, action forgotten. 

After an age of silence Emerie pointed her spoon at Azriel and spoke. “That is not the redhead I thought she was talking about.”