L🖤

[elleybug]

“ I would hear you sing. ”

[bloomingdarkgarden]

A Breakfast Snippet Ft. Elain, Lucien, Azriel, and Eris.

In Fading Hush of Eden Lost // An Elucien Courtship on AO3

“I can still hardly believe she’s giving me a chance.” Lucien murmured over his coffee to Eris.

Elain entered the dining room a moment later, a plate of bacon in hand.

“Is it really so impossible?” she said softly, resting the plate on the table. “Feyre told me that you were good long before I considered giving you a chance, Lucien.”

Lucien raised an auburn eyebrow, caution lingering in his gaze as he reached for the bacon. “What else has Feyre told you?”

Elain was quiet for a long moment. She angled her head at Lucien curiously.

“That Autumn males have fire in their veins and they fuck like it too.”

Eris spit out his coffee all over the table as Lucien choked on a mouthful of food.

Elain merely looked between them, shrugging as she glanced to Azriel.

The shadowsinger sipped his mug, cool and collected as ever. His hazel eyes flickered to Eris for a brief moment. A trace of simmering affection lingered in his gaze as he slapped the male heartily on the back once before looking to Elain. “Not inaccurate,” he noted quietly over his coffee.

The Vanserra brothers began choking on their breakfast all over again.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Eris | See You Again

type: angst  warning(s): blood, wounds, near death experience word count: 2.1k words summary/request: Azriel cannot find Eris on the battlefield after the war. Have they just wanted to declare their love for each other when something happened and they lost each other out of sight.

– all rights reserved –

When he sees his distressed expression, no conversation is needed: the general knows exactly what is going on in Azriel’s mind. He can see the panic in his eyes.

“Not yet, or at least I haven’t see him yet.” Cassian’s lips a pressed in a thin line when he walks up to the shadowsinger, his hands clamping down on the shoulder’s of his brother. “He will be fine.” But Azriel knows otherwise. He knows that something is not alright – that his mate is not alright. 

So, the spymaster gives his head a little shake, looking past Cassian to the tent entrance. The High Lord of the Night Court’s main tent is crowded, happy chatter and relief are the prevailing emotions. War is over, Prythian has won. But Azriel, Azriel does not feel like celebrating.

Because what does all that matter, what does their win matter, if he might experience his greatest lost. The loss of his mate. 

Everyone is back, safe for the ones that did not make it, but Azriel does not allow himself to count Eris as one of them. He shudders when cold fills him from his toes to the tip of his head. He has to see him again, has to see his mate again. Has to tell him he loves him. Eris has to know. Eris has to know how much Azriel loves him, how unconditional his love for him his. A shudder courses through him when panic sinks its invisible claws into the shadowsinger’s skin.

Azriel looks back at his brother, hazel meeting hazel, and parts his lips. “I am going to find him.” “You should not go out there now. He will come back. Just wait—“ “For what? Until he bleeds out or until there is no more saving for him?” His voice has hardly ever been that loud, that stern and furious. Power radiates through the room, stretching out like a dark cloud when Azriel’s siphons start glowing. “I am going to find him –I am going to find my mate- and nothing can stop me from doing so!"

“Not alone.” “Watch me!” Azriel’s nostrils flare, fire blazing through his veins.

“Alright, but I am coming with you.” Cassian reaches for his brother’s arm, his face all sympathy and brotherly love. “I am not let you go out there alone. I will help you find him.”

“I am coming a long too,” a soft feminine voice says behind Cassian and when the general steps to the side, Nesta is revealed. She looks exhausted, her lip is split, a slash runs over her right cheek. But she still looks powerful, standing straight in a stance, ready to go out there with the two males. 

“You don’t have—“ “We do, Azzy. Come one,” —Cassian clasps his brother’s shoulder in his big hand— “let’s find your mate.”

Azriel can hardly contain the thankfulness that is bubbling inside of him. He wants to cry and thank them, but anguish and dread over the possible loss of his mate make the words die down in his throat. He cannot speak, cannot move for a long moment. Because thoughts flood his mind. What if—

What if he finds his dead mate out there?

The feeling of the bond gets less and less, is hardly there anymore. A void starts to open, slowly getting bigger, stretching out and filling his chest with cold. Azriel trembles when he takes one step in front of the other, following after Cassian who informs the High Lord of Night about their plan. Although Rhys seems hesitant he does not say no, but he tells them to return soon. Only because war has been won it does not mean that they are safe out there.

“Where do we start?” Nesta asks once they are outside the tent. 

There is a metallic smell in their air—blood, from all of them and the fallen warriors. It has gotten colder, frost spreading over the land and Azriel knows that every second counts. If Eris does not bleed to death he will most likely die of the cold if they don’t find him. It is a race against time and Azriel does not know if he can make it.

Is he strong enough? Hasn’t he failed at most things in his life? Would he also fail now? Would he lose his mate? Would he fail at saving his mate’s life?

“Do we split up?” Nesta asks, her voice raspy, tearful. She has not received an answer to her previous question as both Illyrian males are to occupied with scanning the landscape surrounding them. Everything around them lies in ashes, the former beautiful landscape reduced to rubble. And Eris…Eris he must be among the destruction, begging and pleading for help.

“Yes, we are faster if we split. I will go there, north, it is where I have seen him last. You can go together, go down to the shore, he wanted to head there,” Azriel orders, his voice not commanding but stern. His chest is aching, his soul breaking when his lower lip starts to tremble.

“Az, we will—“ Azriel lifts a hand to stop his brother. “I don’t know. Please, just let us look.” The shadowsinger can see the breath in front of his face, knowing the temperature drops with every second. They have to find him. It is urgent and it decides over life and death. 

“Good,” Cassian breaths, his shoulders hunched because he knows finding Eris will be hella difficult. He could be everywhere and… dead or alive. 

And so they spread out, hurdling over the destroyed landscape, heavy limbs carrying them. Azriel shouts his mate’s name from time to time, hoping to get an answer. But it is calm. Too calm. He does not get an answer. 

Azriel stumbles a lot, falling once and scratching his knee open. But he does not care. Does not even feel the pain, his heart and soul aching so much more. Cool air wheezes in and out of Azriel’s lungs, his feet feeling heavy, and ache while the carry him over the frozen ground that crunches under his bodyweight. The content of his stomach sours when he screams his mate’s name, “Eris,” once again and still silence is the answer.

“Please,” Azriel begs, smacking his hands over his face and halting in his tracks. The sun has fully set by then, the landscape now covered in endless, bitter darkness. It is so cold. So dark. There is this endless void, growing bigger by the minute.

The shadowsinger looks around him, inhaling one deep breath after the other to calm him.

But then all of this is for nothing. Ahock hits him like a todal wave. Azriel’s heart rips open, daggers piercing his skin. It feels like a viper snatching its fangs right into his soul, shredding it into small pieces without hope for repair.

His eyes land on the lifeless figure in front of him. Azriel wants to scream but his head feels like it is under water. A throaty, hoarse cry leaves him and he hurdles forward. His legs slowing when the narrow in on the body, a chest that seems like it is not heaving. 

Azriel’s movements lack energy when he drags his body over to where Eris is lying on the ground. A loud sob rips itself free when his eyes fall to the deep slash, splitting his mate’s torso open. The shadowsinger falls to his knees, crawling over to his mate, over the muddy, wet ground.

“Eris,” he pants, his scarred hand brushing wet —drenched with blood— strands of hair out of the High Lord’s face. “Eris, please.” His voice is pleading, begging, desperately wanting his mate to open his eyes.

And they do, they flicker open. Eris stares at his mate through heavy-lidded eyes, his dry lips parted, his chest heaving in an uneven rhythm. 

“Stay with me. There is so much I need to tell you. First and foremost, that I need you. You need to survive. I need you in my life.” Azriel cowers over his mate, trying to shield him from the cold. 

“Az,” Eris rasps, lifting one hand to grab his mate’s upper arm. But he lacks power, has no energy and so his hand falls back to his side. 

“I don’t hate you,” Azriel babbles when tears brim his eyes. “I never have.”

The High Lord’s lips part with a wet, gurgling sound. "And I have never hated you either." His eyes close, chest rumbling. And then a weak, barely-there smile blooms on his lips. 

Azriel cradles his face in his bloody hands—Eris blood now on his skin. 

"Not even when you handed me my ass." Eris' chest does another heavy heave, one breath leaves his mouth and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Stay with me. Please, just stay,” Azriel begs, pleading, his heart thrumming rapidly in his chest. His soul feels so hollow, tears streaming down his cheeks, tasting salty in his mouth.

“Say it then..." Eris rasps. “Say that you love me.”

Azriel does not have to be told twice. He has waited for too long. It is finally time to be honest. 

“I love you. I love you, Eris Vanserra. With my whole heart. From this day on until our very last day, my heart is yours. All yours. As am I.”

Azriel’s stomach cramps at the helplessness he is feeling and he leans down, brushing his dry lips over his mate’s forehead, his shadows swirling around him, stretching out and brushing over Eris’ body.

“And I love you. More than you can—“ Eris coughs, spitting blood. “Imagine.”

Azriel, his face wet with tears and Eris’ blood, holds tighter onto his mate, kissing his brow, his nose, his cheek. 

“And knowing this, I can now leave…in peace.” “NO!” Azriel shouts, bawling. “No, you stay with me. We will have a future.” “It is fine, Azriel.” His name on the High Lord's lips is probably the most beautiful sound in the entire world. Azriel squeezes his eyes shut, sobbing loudly and pressing his forehead against Eris. 

“Stay.”

“Azriel, it is fine…” His chest does another heave and then for a long moment none follows. 

~~~~~~~~~

“You are so beautiful.”

“You are….here…” Azriel expresses, warmth slowly filling his chest when his eyes snap open, his soul starting to glow. His eyes burn due to the sudden bright light, his throat dry, aching.

Azriel lifts his gaze to his mate’s, lunging forward to cradle the male’s face in his hands. Eris winces loudly when the whole bodyweight of the shadowsinger comes down on him.

“You are—“ “Alive and currently getting suffocated by my mate,” Eris chuckles, his voice weak but it is there. Eris talks to him and that is all that matters.

Where are they? Azriel questions himself. It is light, warm and smells like fresh linen. But actually he does not care, all he cares about is Eris.

Said male brushes his thumb over Azriel’s cheek, tipping his head upwards and leaning in. His lips brush over Azriel’s cheeks, some fresh tears running over the already dried ones. 

Azriel wants to pull back, realising that he is hurting his mate, but Eris holds onto him for dear life, pulling him to his bandaged chest. Azriel reluctantly crawls onto the field bed, wings hanging over the edges of it and he tries to fit next to his mate, the bed groaning under them.

“I am afraid the bed will break,” Azriel mumbles when he looks at his mate’s face with a grimace on his own.

“Would then be the first out of many after we accept the bond.” 

Even though he is still in a lot of pain, Eris seems to be happy, teases endlessly and winks at his mate. Azriel groans lowly and wants to swat at Eris shoulder, but he holds back, knowing severely injured he was and probably still is.

“Can you say it again,” the High Lord of Autumn says after a long moment of them just looking at each, eyes locked. 

“What?” the shadowsinger whispers and leans down, nipping at his mate’s bottom lip. He just can't stop himself. Eris’ lips curl against Azriel's and he says, “That you love me.”

“I love you!” His eyes aglow, the spymaster pulls back slightly and silently regards his mate. “How did we get here?”

“The Illyrian bru— Cassian.” Eris swallows, moving his hand up Azriel's arm. “Cassian saved us. He found us. You must have passed out from the cold or the pain or exhaustion. He found us both and with the help of Rhysand they brought us here where Thesan healed me and you slept a little.” Azriel shoots Eris an incredulous look. "I slept while you nearly died?”

“You practically fainted from exhaustion, my love.” My love. Azriel’s heart does happy leaps, a grin spreading over his whole face, from one ear to the other. 

"I am not blaming you, neither should you yourself. I love you, Azriel.”

“Until forever.” “Until the end of our immortal lives.”

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

tags: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Eris | Caught

type: fluff, drabble warning(s): no smut but suggestive word count: 1.6k words summary: Azriel and Eris share a rather heated moment which is unfortunately interrupted by an Illyrian general who has no idea what his brother has been up to lately

- all rights reserved - 

Hands tentatively roaming the other’s body, exploring, their lips meet in a hungry, passionate kiss, devouring the taste of the other, eliciting noises neither of them is used to.

Eris parts the shadowsinger’s legs, his knee sliding upwards which makes a groan erupt from somewhere deep in Azriel’s throat. It is like music in Eris ears, he revels in it.

His lips curl against his mate’s when he stops the kiss momentarily. "Such noises, huh?" the High Lord drawls, and nips at his lover’s lower lip. Desire sparks in the Autumn Court male’s eyes, burning flames aglow in the dim room.

Azriel hisses, his scarred hand curling around the High Lords that is braced on his hips, his gaze focused on Eris eyes.

"This is so damn wrong," the shadowsinger breathes, but is the one to re-connect his lips with the High Lords once again.

"So wrong," Eris purrs, the vibrations tingling Azriel’s lips.

"I hate you."

"I hate you more, you Illyrian brute."

His nostrils flaring, Azriel pulls back from the kiss. "Fucker," he brings out, the power of their desire too strong to stay apart for too long. Their lips touch again, feeling numb and swollen already. Eris’ hand slides over Azriel’s thigh, accompanying his knee, palm smoothing over Azriel’s groin, over the noticeable bulge straining against his tight leathers.

"Need me to take care of that?" Eris whispers and squeezes softly.

Azriel feels his eyes roll back, his stomach flexing. He hisses once again, pulling back sharply. His onyx hair shift with the movement and for a moment the breath gets knocked from Eris lungs. Gods, his mate is truly the most handsome male in the entire world.

Eris smoothes his palm up, fingers curling around the waistband of the spymaster’s pants. "Say please," Eris coos, his breathy chuckle tickling Azriel’s face. Eris pecks the corner of his mate’s mouth, the tips of his fingers slipping inside the trousers.

Azriel groans, the throbbing need between his thighs nearly too overwhelming. He needs Eris in every possible way. "Plea—"

"What the hell?!"

A door hits the wall with a loud thump and something clatters on the ground—a sword. Cassian’s sword.

He stands in the threshold, his eyeballs nearly falling out of their sockets, mouth parted, one hand hanging in the air, the other now empty of a sword.

"I…I thought…I though you were… I honestly have no idea. But that…that I did not think about." Cassian is too stunned to form one coherent thought nor sentence. He just stares, eyes jumping between the red haired mail and his brother.

Being too startled neither Azriel, whose hand is still entangled in Eris hair, nor the High Lord, his hand was halfway down the spymaster’s pants, move. 

Finally snapping back to reality, Azriel lets his hand drop, sitting up straighter on the couch which is difficult with the tall High Lord half hovering above him.

Cold sweat breaks out on the back of his neck, shadows creating a fuzzy nest of swirls around their owner. Azriel calms them with the clearing of his throat.

Azriel’s lips part, a weak attempt to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

Eris keeps silent, knowing how much pressure there was on his mate in that moment. Knows what this here meant. He still cannot not fully hold back. He needs to comfort his mate somehow. He lets his hand travel to Azriel’s, softly squeezing when his fingers curl around Azriel’s scarred one. He wants to signal him that he is there, that Azriel is not alone in this, that he does not have to face it alone if tough comes to shove.

A small shudder courses through Azriel. Not because he does not want the High Lord’s touch. No, it is because of his gesture. The thoughtfulness and kindness behind it. He tries to comfort him and it works. Azriel’s heart swells in his chest – Eris truly cares about him and that…no one has cared about him in that way.

"I can explain," Azriel finally manages to say.

Cassian blinks his eyes rapidly, his normally tanned cheeks turning a paler shade. “Yeah…yeah, I guess some explaining is quite a good idea,” Cassian mumbles, still standing frozen in the doorframe. He looks like he has seen a ghost. Eris squeezes Azriel’s hand once again, warmth and love reaching him through the bond. “I guess I should leave you two alone to talk. I can stay, of course, but I don’t…I don’t want to impose myself,” the High Lord states politely and has Azriel’s heart skip a beat. Eris truly seems to care about him and this feeling…this feeling is beautiful.

A small, sheepish smile blooms on Azriel’s face and he dips his chin at the High Lord. “I think we should talk alone first, but...thank you.” 

Eris carefully pushes off Azriel and consequently of the couch, straightening up to his full height. And although he did not want to look, Azriel does. Once again he is fully and completely enamoured by the beautiful male standing in front of him. 

Eris smoothes his palms down his shirt, and then his pants, strolling towards the Illyrian general and the door.

“It is not his fault. If you want to hate someone, hate me even more than you already do, but don’t hate him. There is no blame on him. I approached him. I was the one to address the bond first. Azriel…he is not to blame,” Eris mumbles, his gaze stern when it meets Cassian’s. 

His jaw is clenched and Cassian has to admit that he is quite taken by surprise about the High Lord's sincerity, his soft tone, his…kindness towards his brother. It pulls a lever in his mind and slowly awareness fills his brain. If Eris was truly Azriel’s mate he would…he would find a way to accept it. Azriel was the first to accept Nesta, without a second thought. Cassian would to the same for his brother even though it would be odd and agonising at the beginning, imagining his brother with…Eris Vanserra.

Said male closes the door behind him when Cassian steps fully into the room, heading to sit next to Azriel on the couch. He clears his throat and draws in a deep breath. “So?” 

“So…” Azriel lowers his gaze to the ground, elbows braced on his thighs when he lets his head hang low. 

“So it is really true then?” Cassian carefully asks. Gone is the shocked Illyrian warrior, he is all understanding, gentle. “He is your mate?”

“You assumed it already?” Azriel tilts his head to the side, gazing up at his brother. 

Lips pressed in a thin line, Cassian bows his head. 

“Yes, he is. And as much as I hate it…I cannot just fight it. I want him. And I think…I think I love him. Have loved him since such a long time.” Cassian clasps his brother’s shoulder in his big hand, squeezing tightly. “I know this is a problem, but I have longed for a mate so long. I cannot just—“ “And you should not. You should love him. Be with him. It is fucking hard to understand that one could love him, someone like him, but if you do…I will be alright with it, Az.”

The corner of the shadowsinger’s mouth tips up when he straightens up. He does not quite comprehend how Cassian understands so easily. The Illyrian general truly has a heart of gold, Azriel thinks. 

“It is fucking messed up, don’t you think?” A whole-hearted laugh leaves the Lord of Bloodshed and he tips his head back. “It is completely messed up.”

Azriel grins and punches the pillow next to him. “Eris Fucking Vanserra. Out of all people, it had to be him…” “Well, the Cauldron chooses wisely and for a reason,” Cassian states, all humor gone, nothing but sincerity left. 

The two of them talk for a while longer, Eris patiently waiting outside until he is called in, hesitantly waiting by the door. His one leg is crossed behind the ankle of the other, hands folded behind his back. He meets Azriel’s gaze only shortly, but still has to smile.

“I assume I will have to deal with you now more often?” Cassian grumbles, a predatory expression on his face when he asses the High Lord of Autumn.

“I will try to not cross your path too often, Lord General,” Eris says in a low voice. A muscle in his jaw flexes when he sees how close his mate is sitting to Cassian, their knees touching.

“I will rip you to shreds if you hurt him. If you put one toe out of place, alright?” Cassian cautions, his hand squeezing Azriel’s shoulder again. He slowly gets up, his eyes never leaving Eris’.

Eris bows his head, pushing off the wall. “I would never hurt him,” he says, gaze jumping to his mate. 

Cassian nods, bumping his shoulder against Eris when he passes him—on accident or not, no one knows. 

“I will leave you alone now. But do me a favour,” Cassian says, “before you continue with what you have started, make a plan first how you are going to explain this to the others.”

Eris and Azriel both nod in understanding.

A loud exhale leaves Cassian when he leaves the room. He throws his hands up, releasing another breath, “Good lords!”

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

tags: @azrielsbitxh @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger  @ladyelain

[mournersandfunerals]

wouldn't it be really funny if sjm pulled the rug out from under the feuding elriel and gwynriel shippers and just put az with eris instead?

[profound-imagination]

What We Do in The Shadows - Azris

A/N - Written for my server girlies! I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Eris Vanserra never thought in his entire existence his mate would've turned out to be Azriel Shadowsinger, the Spymaster of the Night Court. Male or Female he didn't care, he just longed for that bond with someone and it snapped into place for him when the Shadowsinger nearly killed him at that very first High Lord meeting when he'd called Morrigan a whore. He'll never forget that snap deep in his chest while Azriel was on him, delivering blow after blow to his face, as soon he felt it, he dropped his arms, stopped defending himself, refusing to lift a hand agaisnt his mate.

It took a little while for Azriel to feel it. It took even longer for him to accept it. Both males had a lot of issues they needed to work out, work through but somehow they did and they were very much in the beginning stages of accepting the mating bond. No one knew, at least not anyone in Eris' life. Azriel's family knew, of course they did, meddling assholes, all of them, but Eris would deal with them for his little bat. Azriel hated it when he called him that, he didn't like Eris was the taller of the two, even if Azriel could hand his ass to him in seconds.

Eris was smiling gently to himself as he wandered through the halls of the Forest House, his hands casually in his trouser pockets when his blood ran cold. There, out of the corner of his eye, the shadows moved. He was sure of it. Panic filled his entire being. Azriel couldn't be here, it wasn't safe. His father was in a particularly foul mood lately. There was a reason they only ever met in the Night Court and very carefully.

The air was smothering him in the house, he needed to be outside, in the fresh air. He couldn't breathe. He ran, his long legs carrying him down a familiar path, to his favourite secluded place in the forest surrounding his families estate. He didn't know what he was sending down the bond to his mate, too far gone in the panic for his safety and trying to lure him out of the manor.

Azriel was already there when he burst out of the brush into the clearing and was in front of Eris in seconds. "What's wrong?" Eris continued to gulp in deep breaths. "Eris, talk to me, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" Shadows danced across his eyes at the last part of his own question. "Your shadows, Azriel! You were here already! It's not safe!" Azriel shot his mate a confused look. "I just got here? I winnowed in when I felt your panic?" Eris shook his head. "Don't lie to me! I saw the shadows move! You're going to get hurt sneaking around here Az!" Azriel almost looked amused and tried his best to hide the smirk that overtook his face. "I'm fine, love, see, in once piece." Both males stiffened at the pet name. It was the first time one had been used between the two of them. Azriel carried on speaking, deciding he didn't want to dwell on his slipup. "Besides, if your father knows I'm here, it's because I want him to know. I haven't been caught yet when I check up on you." Eris went silent, his eyes met Azriel's and his body stilled. "You…you check up on me?" Azriel did look amused now. "Of course I do, there's always a shadow or two around you and you always look so peaceful when you sleep." Eris blinked, once, twice, three times before he said anything. "You're going to get caught." Azriel shrugged. "As long as I know you're safe and okay I don't care. There's no one better at what I do than me, Eris." It wasn't enough, Eris knew the constant danger his mate put himself in on behalf of Rhysand, without being asked too. Eris had hoped one day Azriel would call Autumn home and he'd never be used as a spy or a torturer again, but the more he'd gotten to know the male, the icy rage contained in him, he knew that there would be no breaking that loyalty to Rhysand, no melting that ice no matter how hot the heir to Autumn burned.

Eris was still roaming his eyes over his mate, checking for any damage or injuries. "Eris…do you want me to stay, so you know I'm safe." Eris let out a breath and said quietly. "I need to know you're real." Azriel growled, a scarred hand came up and wrapped around Eris' neck as he was shoved backwards into the apple tree behind him, Azriel's lips were on his before he could breathe. It was a bruising, dizzying kiss, the type that made Eris' head spin and his world alter. His hands didn't hesitate as one found a home around the Shadowsinger's neck, the other in his midnight hair. The hold Azriel had on his throat was delicious and addicting and he could feel his mate smirking into the kiss. Az pulled away, only slightly and a playful look over took his face. "Real enough for you?" Eris let out a shuddering breath, trying desperately to get his mind to stop spinning. He nodded. "Please stop coming here Az. I can't let him find you, I need to know you're nowhere near here, near my father. I can't lose you." He hated being this vulnerable but Azriel brought it out of him without even trying. The Shadowsinger kissed him once more. "Shut up and take me to your room before I change my mind and go home." Eris smirked now. "But Shadowsinger, I'm your home."

[ofduskanddreams]

✨Azris✨

reposting not allowed on any platforms, reblogs welcome

Thank you to @ creating_dark_art for bringing my soft!Azris dreams to life with this commission!

[sfw] Drabble of the scene portrayed above, below:

“Gods, I’ve needed this all day.” Azriel’s voice is low, leaden with desire. His fingers tug at the infuriating number of buttons concealing Eris’s creamy freckled skin.

“You had me this morning.” Eris grins, tossing his crown onto an armchair and relishing the light feeling of its absence. “Still so insatiable, Shadowsinger? Even after all these years?”

With a fist full of Eris’s shirt Azriel tugs his mate closer. “You’re just as bad as I am, High Lord.” He says the title mockingly, but he’s smiling too much for it to be anything other than an endearment.

“Can you really blame me? After everything we went through it’s still hard to believe that we made it here sometimes.” Eris drags a ringed finger across the tattoos on Azriel’s bare chest.

“But we did.” Azriel’s shadows twine around them both, half-shrouding them from the glow of the fire.

Smiling, Eris slides his hand up Azriel’s neck and into his hair, holding him, reminding himself that his mate is truly here, in spite of all the odds. “We did, didn’t we.” It’s a statement, not a question.

Their half discarded clothing and plans beyond that are momentarily forgotten as Eris lets his mate pull him in for a hungry kiss. It's a firm reassurance that they made it. It’s a passionate promise that they’ll face whatever’s next together. It’s everything.

[sydneymack]

Azriel and Eris - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Artist: @pandyals_art

[thesistersarcheron]

We need to stop pretending Lucien and Azriel are going to fight a Blood Duel when it's clearly going to be Helion and Beron.

[naariel]

hey

hey tumblr

psst

I got a treat for ya

Azriel x Eris

because we love an angry fuck and a smug asshole. commissioned by Acourtofari and the Council of Azris bless 🙏

[azrielvanserra]

This is amazing omg

[sabrinasam]

🖤 Gwynriel 🖤

Some much needed rest for our two insomniacs. 🥰 Huge shoutout to @kolumnist-art for this lovely and wholesome commission piece! Karina did such an amazing job capturing my vision. Please head on over to her IG here and show her some love. Her work is exquisite! 🤍🤍🤍

[yazthebookish]

Here's to Gwyn getting Azriel into Sellyn Drake's smutty novels 🤍 my latest *surprise* commission!

Artist credit: lucielart (link to art post here)

[trashforazriel]

My newest #gwynriel commission from @talitasami on instagram. Please reblog, do not repost on tumblr. Support the artist through their Commisson work 🎨.

[rivernymphsblog]

How cute and heartbreaking.

art: lucienart.

[passiveaggressivepisces]

“Azriel laughed”

GUYS WE HAVE ANOTHER COMMISIONED GWYNRIEL FANART

AND AZ IS LAUGHING IN IT.

My heart has imploded. I am not okay. Just seeing him HAPPY?! Omg I really need to sit down. Maybe lie down…dream of Azriel…yeah that sounds good.

Yeah, I’ll do that.

Anyway, enjoy this gift bestowed to the fandom :)

[separatist-apologist]

Could you do one where Lucien finds out about what happened on solstice but he and Elian isn’t speaking to him yet? I’m curious to see your take!

Look. I absolutely CANNOT help myself. If I had written that scene (and I am free, SJM), it would have gone down a little like this.

--

--

She doesn’t want him.

Azriel’s words rang through Lucien’s head, over and over on a constant loop, one he didn’t think he’d ever get out. He hadn’t wantedto overhear that whole conversation and, in doing so, was reminded why he never came to this fucking city to start with. He scrubbed a hand down his face, slung his bag over his shoulder, and slipped from his room. Feyre would be disappointed he left without saying goodbye but no one else would miss him. He could always make his excuses in a letter when he was far from Velaris.

I’d defeat him easily.

Lucien flinched beneath the weight of such casual violence. Azriel would love Autumn Court, if that was his first thought when it came to a blood duel. Lucien had no intention of calling one, not for Elain. He barely knew her and yet Lucien didn’t think she’d find the whole, bloody mess endearing.

He certainly had no intention of dying over a female that seemed to loathe his existence. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing Azriel’s voice to remove itself.

He doesn’t deserve her.

What would Lucien know about that, he thought miserably, his feet touching the first-floor landing. It wasn’t like he’d asked for her. If he’d it his way, the cauldron would given Elain to Azriel and the spymaster could spend eternity bound to a female that wanted nothing to do with their kind. He might have found it funny, the notion that Azriel thought she’d fall into his arms when Elain had made it abundantly clear she hated the mating bond.

Maybe he’d have a shot, then. Lucien stepped past the drawing room they’d exchanged gifts in when he caught a flash of that honey-colored hair all the Archeron’s shared. Feyre was up. Well fuck. He’d never be forgiven if he snuck right past her. He sighed and turned.

“Knock, knock,” he said before looking in. “Feyre, I thought I’d…” His words died in his throat when Elain looked back, her hands wrapped around her throat. “Never mind.” He wasn’t touching the red eyes and blotchy skin of the softly crying Elain with a ten-foot pole. He turned on his heel when something physically stopped him.

The fucking mating bond snarled in his chest, a physical beast that demanded he care for his mate. Fuck me, he thought furiously, keeping himself exactly where he was. He turned again, wary of the female that had caused so much drama. He wondered if she knew. Elain’s hands were still wrapped around her neck as a set of fresh tears slid down her cheeks.

“Are you alright?” He asked, every inch of him rebelling at the thought of comforting her through the rejection of another male.

Elain’s whole body seemed to tremble while Lucien warred with the bond, demanding it let him leave.

She doesn’t want him.

Lucien sighed and offered her a mocking bow while even the mating bond conceded. He turned for the third time, reshouldering his bag, and stepped out of the drawing room. Ten steps and he’d be at the door.

“Wait!” She called. Lucien’s whole body went taut as he closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the sky.

Have I displeased you? He silently asked the mother, walking back to the drawing room. He knew she could tell he did not want to be there, that he’d been trying to make his escape judging by the expression on her face. Was she planning to torture him a little, on her way out?

“Can you help me?” She asked, removing her hands from her throat. A red rosebud hung from her pale throat on a silver chain, and it was clear she’d been trying to remove it when he walked in on her.

Lucien dropped his bag to the floor and walked to her, her scent a punch to the gut. Honey and jasmine and something warm, like a breeze over a sunlit sky. All of that was mingled with fear and the better part of him wanted to tell her no and demand she tell him why she was so scared. He didn’t. What good was upsetting an already crying female?

She swept thick, honey-colored curls over one shoulder and it was Lucien’s turn to tremble, his stomach bottoming out. Had he ever touched her? He couldn’t remember a time. He reached for the tiny clasp, his fingers brushing over the nape of her neck. He swallowed hard as the chain was freed, sliding away into her waiting hands.

“Thank you,” she murmured as Lucien immediately put distance between them. His entire body was too aware of her and though he was angry, he didn’t know that he could stop himself from touching her again if he remained close. He wanted to guard her, to put his body in front of hers and snap and snarl until every male in Prythian was aware that she was his mate.

He reached for his bag. “Are you leaving?” She asked again and it occurred to Lucien she had asked him two questions and he had said nothing in response. He flexed his jaw, his back turned to her, and slid the strap of the bag back over his shoulder.

“I am,” he replied carefully. Elain wiped her cheeks with the palm of her hand and Lucien thought she was still so heartbreakingly beautiful, despite her hurt. Elain nodded, looking down at her feet and he wondered if he ought to just say goodbye.

“Will you be back?” She asked, her words nearly a whisper.

“Would you like me to return?” He asked, emphasizing her part heavily. Their eyes met again and Elain hesitated.

No.

He turned then, his anger cascading over him, intending to leave her in the drawing room. She didn’t owe him anything but neither did he. At least he was trying. If she didn’t want him around, he didn’t need to come any more than was necessary and he certainly didn’t need to see her.

“Lucien!” Elain breathed from behind him. He stopped again, cursing himself and the tether that bound them. “Lucien I didn’t…I uh…”

“I get it,” he said, his words clipped, turning to face her again. He shoved down his instincts demanding he treat her with care. Maybe someone should tell her to get fucked, even once instead of the constant handholding she was subjected to. “I’m the wrong male. That’s fine, Elain. I don’t want to be in your way.”

His hand reached for the doorknob when she surged forward, her brown eyes still sparkling with tears. “What does that mean?” She demanded.

He laughed dryly. “I guess you didn’t hear the little reprimand the High Lord gave Azriel regarding you?”

Her face paled.

“Don’t let me get in the way of true love,” he commented sarcastically. “I wish you and the bat nothing but the best.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not in love with him,” she half-whispers.

“You understand that’s worse, right?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. She looked him up and down.

“I don’t belong to you,” she began but Lucien rolled his eyes.

“When did I ever say you did?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve made a lot of assumptions about someone you don’t even know.”

“Would you even be here if it weren’t for this?” Elain asked in return, one finger gesturing between their bodies.

“Would Feyre?” He snapped back. Elain hesitated and Lucien could see she hadn’t considered that. Something sparked in her gaze and Lucien waited to see if she was going to soften.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“Great,” Lucien replied, yanking on the door handle. “I don’t owe you shit, either.”

He stepped into the cold, strangely pleased when she followed him out.

“What does that mean?” She asked, the door snapping behind her. She immediately wrapped her arms around her body and, cursing himself, Lucien began unbuttoning his jacket.

“Why do you think I ought to stand here trying when you don’t believe you owe me anything?” He demanded even as he handed her the emerald-colored jacket. She snatched it out of his hands and threw it to the ground like a petulant child.

“You wanted this—”

“The hell I did!” He interrupted. “Do you imagine I am having a good time, watching you desperately try to avoid me? Because let me assure you, this is not my idea of fun.”

“Then why do you keep coming around?!”

“Because you haven’t rejected the bond!” He replied, letting some of his desperation leech into his words. “And until you do, I’ll keep coming to Solstice and waiting, my entire life hinging on a choice you seem duty bound to ignore. Have you ever considered, for even a moment of your now immortal life, that you do owe me something?”

“I don’t owe you shit,” she whispered in response, all rebellion. Lucien couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his throat, causing her to jump. Of all the things he might have imagined, her repeating his own words back to him was not one of them. He shook his head, meaning to turn and winnow away but Elain was watching him and he thought her lips curved upwards just enough to seem as though she were suppressing a smile.

Lucien offered her the same mocking bow he’d once given her sister, bending deeply at the waist, arms thrown out, so she knew it was not courtly in the slightest.

“Enjoy your night, Elain.”

“Lucien!” She snapped, very clearly exasperated. He shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold, which he barely felt. He took a step between them, hooking the lip of his jacket on his boot and tossing it into the air where he caught it and draped it over his arm.

“What?”

Her eyes glanced back at his jacket, arms tightening around her body and for the second time that night, Lucien handed her the jacket. She didn’t budge and he sighed.

“Take the damn jacket, Elain.” “You’re rude,” she accused, snatching it out of his grip. And though Lucien was irritated with her, some of his anger washed away at the sight of her buttoning herself into his jacket.

“Yeah? Well you’re spoiled.”

Real mature.

She paused and then she smiled, as if he’d told her she was beautiful. “No one has ever said that to me before.”

“You’ll forgive me if I’m all out of sonnets.”

She laughed that time. “You’re so mean.”

Lucien hesitated. Did she like it? He took a step towards her and Elain, to her credit, held her ground. All traces of tears were gone, replaced by the open rebellion staring him in the face.

“You like it,” he accused. Elain didn’t deny it. Instead she took the tiniest step towards him, so close Lucien could touch her face. He reached between them, taking a fat curl between his fingers, knuckles brushing over her cheek.

“I’m not a doll,” she murmured, eyes wide as she held her ground. “I can handle it.”

Of that, Lucien didn’t doubt. He knew she felt his agreement, shimmering down their shared connection.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted me to stick around.” “Good thing you know better,” she shot back, all teasing. Lucien, unable to resist testing his luck, dropped his hand and made to turn.

She grabbed his hand and his blood sang at the contact, the instinct to grab her and take her away from this place nearly overwhelming.

“Stay,” she breathed. “Get some sleep…you look terrible.”

He smiled, looking down at her hand clasping his own. “At least we share that commonality.”

Her mouth dropped open, eyes sparkling. “How very cruel of you. Will I see you in the morning?”

“If you’re lucky,” he replied, smirking. All his confidence died the moment she brought his hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“If you’re lucky, you mean,” she replied, letting go. Elain turned, flouncing back into the house without so much as a glance backwards while Lucien stood beneath the fae lights flickering on Feyre’s porch, hand burning. He tried to figure out what had happened and how they’d gone from crying and yelling to…insults and a kiss.

Still, he did as she asked and came back into the house and walked back to his room…where Feyre waited, a smile playing on her lips.

“Good night?” She asked him, making it plain she’d heard at least part of what went down between him and Elain.

“Shut up,” he replied.

[azrielvanserra]

I just came back to tumblr and got obsessed with acotar again lmao. So since ACOTAR5 won’t be out in a long time and I’m bored feel free to ask me my opinion on whatever and since none of my friends have read acotar I need new friends to to talk about ships and theories :) also give me some fic recs