Art created by: @hornysadfrog who really went above and beyond for this. It took me a long time to take my jaw off the floor!! Her Eris is one of my most favorites. He’s so regal and lovely I could cry. Little frog you are a light in this fandom and I appreciate you so much!
A gift commissioned by me for @pippsmcgee and her word vomit in my DMs over the years about the wonderful stories in her brain. Even if you never write them I will cherish your talent for speaking them into existence anyway.
If it wasn't for you and your tenacious comments on my fics, I would have never gotten back on Tumblr, and I would have never met any of the wonderful people in this tiny corner of the fandom. I will forever be thankful for that and you. Your handle is all over ao3 in all the Azris comment sections passing out love and thoughtfulness that make it worthwhile for writers to post! Your amazing imagination is on my mind all of the time so I hope this gift is a reflection of that. 🖤🖤
Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train:
My angel, my literary icon, I'm back! I couldn't resist reaching out again after you turned my past Azriel request, "mine to hate, mine to love," into an absolute masterpiece! Honestly, I would love to see how they accept the bond and everything else. You would write an amazing "Where Are They Now?" post!
My new request is an azris (already mated) x curvy female reader… smutty angsty feral masterpiece. Our reader is a fiery sarcastic spitfire, a true force of nature who has been trapped in the Court of Nightmares for several years. She is Rhys's half-sister and possesses immense power. Her mother managed to escape the clutches of Rhys's father and fled to Autumn (where she had family) but was discovered many years later and brutally slaughtered in front of our reader's eyes by Beron. After learning of her existence, Beron struck a deal with Rhys's father, agreeing to keep her a secret in exchange for something significant.
For years, our reader has been held captive, believing that her half-brother and his family were aware of her predicament and chose to neglect her. Unknown to Rhys and his Inner Circle , they have no idea that she is his sister. She hates them all especially AZRIS (the devastatingly hot arrogant mated pair🫠😝🔥) With Eris being recently crowned high lord uncovers all his father’s debts and secrets, he discovers that locked away in the Court of Nightmares is the secret princess of the Night Court. When he and Azriel embark on a mission to rescue her, they find the missing piece to their mate bond…a third🤩. THATS RIGHT TRIAD BOND BABY WOOOOOO!!
Will Azriel and Eris be able to break down her walls and teach her how to love after a life filled with pain and peril, or will she push them away?. NOPE…She eventually accepts the bond and HOT HOT HOT THREESOME SMUT occurs and they WORSHIP HER LIKE THE GODDESS SHE IS🥵🥵🥰😝 but ya know some angst gotta occur before the smutty delicusness! It’d be so cute at the end after the smut for some sibling bonding between Rhys and our reader, being loved on by her mates and accepted by a new family….she deserves all the love and family she never really had😭🫶🏻 I think you’d absolutely turn this into a KILLER SERIES! or oneshot honestly ill take whatever crumbs you give me cause im that FERAL FOR YOUR MASTERPIECES🤪❤️ if you hate it you can scrap it but I know you'd make THIS GOLDEN whatever you decide🤩🤩!
A Heart Unchained- Azris x fem!reader (1/3)
Summary: A forgotten Night Court Heir is rescued by Azriel and Eris--only to discover she's the missing third to their mating bond.
Warnings: angst, violence, trauma, hurt.
A/N: thank you pookie for this wonderful recommendation! I loved planning it out and now putting it out one by one!! keep them recs coming <33
See masterlist
Darkness had weight.
It pressed. It smothered. It became a second skin when worn long enough.
Y/N had learned that in the court of Nightmares.
Down here, time didn't pass. It rotted. It curled in the corners with the dust and old blood, whispering that no one was coming. No one cared. No one even remembered she existed.
Rhysand certainly didn't.
Her dear half-brother--beloved High Lord of the Night Court--had never once come looking. Never once wondered why his father suddenly stopped mentioning the bastard he created. Never once sensed her magic crackling through the cracks of this place like lightning begging to break free.
And the others? The Inner Circle he loved so much? His mate?
Shadowsinger. General. High Lady. His Second in Command. His cousin. Archeron sisters.
A perfect little family. Conveniently missing the girl rotting in the basement.
Y/N wasn't sure when hate became easier to hold than hope. Probably the day Beron murdered her mother in front of her. Probably the moment his guards chained her beneath this court and called it a "mercy."
She had survived anyway. Starved, beaten, caged--but not broken.
And today...the shadows felt different. They twitched against the walls like animals scenting blood. The air was wrong. Anticipating.
Someone was coming.
Not the guards. Not Beron's lackeys.
Someone powerful enough to shake the wards. Someone whose magic scraped against hers like flint striking steel. Two someones.
How was she feeling this? How did this feeling suddenly consume her?
One was fire. Controlled, arrogant, smug even from a distance. The other...shadows. Cold. Endless.
If Rhysand had finally remembered he had a sister, he was too late. She would not be saved. She would burn her way out. Even if she had to kill them first.
Eris leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming against the edge of his desk, the flicker of candlelight dancing across the scattered papers. He let out a long, slow breath, glancing at Azriel, who stood silently in the corner, shadows clinging to him like a second skin.
Rhysand's voice cut through the quiet, sharp and incredulous. "That's impossible. I am the High Lord. There isn't any place in the Court of Nightmares that I am not familiar with."
Eris huffed a short, dry, sound, and let his gaze wander between the two males. Azriel's expression was unreadable, lost in thought as always, but he could see the tension coiling in the shadows around him.
Earlier that day had been a storm of discovery. Beron's ledgers, ancient contracts, and the dust-choked files of the Court of Nightmares had revealed it all. A reference buried deep in a contract: Night Court Princess. Hidden Ward-protected. Powerful. His first instinct had been disbelief, followed almost immediately by fury--and a plan.
Azriel had been the first he'd called. "Inform Rhys. Tell him to winnow here. Now."
And now, here they were. Rhysand, the great High Lord himself, and Azriel, the master of Shadows, both staring at him like he'd just announced the sky was falling.
"Do you two not realize the great sensitivity of the issue?" Eris asked, disbelief threading his tone. The small chuckle that followed was almost decisive. "You're staring at me like I've grown a second head."
Rhysand's eyes narrowed, but he didn't answer. Azriel's shadows twitched, restless.
Eris slammed a finger on the words written clearly on the parchment before him: Night Court Princess.
"This," he said slowly, deliberately, letting the weight of the words hang in the air, "means that you, dear Rhysand, have a half sister."
Rhysand blinked. Twice. His jaw clenched.
"Because if the two of you were from the same mother," Eris continued, his voice sharp as a knife, "I doubt your father would've had her locked somewhere warded and hidden. And you know as well as I do, your dearest papa wasn't the benevolent god everyone thinks he was. You haven't felt her...because that was how it was meant to be. She's quite literally somewhere no one knows within your court. Hidden. Heavily guarded."
Azriel's voice broke the silence, soft, almost a whisper. "Strong powers."
Eris' eyes met his mate's, and he repeated the words, deliberate and measured. "Strong powers. So strong she needs to be completely erased from existence."
The room was silent, heavy. Rhysand's lips parted, then pressed into a thin line. Shock, disbelief, and guilt rippled through him.
"She's...my blood?" Rhysand's voice was low, tight with a mixture of fury and disbelief. Azriel stepped closer, voice firm but calm. "We will find her, Rhys. We will."
Eris leaned back again, expression hard. "I take this mission upon myself. I will go in first. I will locate her, assess the threat."
Azriel's eyes snapped to him, sharp, fierce.
"No. I won't allow you to do this alone, Eris."
Rhysand's gaze flicked between them, his mind racing, high lord instincts snapping back into place. He inhaled slowly, the fire of determination creeping back into his chest. "Then we do this together. I will not leave her. She is my sister. She is my blood. And no one--no one--keeps her from me again."
The tension in the room shifted slightly, softened by a quiet moment. Azriel's hand brushed against Eris' as he moved closer to the desk, a subtle, intimate reassurance. Eris' shoulders loosened fractionally, the tension between them unspoken but understood.
Then Azriel's shadows shimmered along the floor, ready. Rhysand squared his shoulders, letting the cold, calculating High Lord return. "Let's go, Az. But we do this the right way. Call Cassian and Mor, I will need their help. We can't let anyone else know about this or else we risk my sister's life even more. Eris, I will be expecting you to gather more information from all of this by tomorrow. We will be heading to the Court of Nightmares in two days."
And with that, both males vanished from Eris' view. Leaving him to glance around his office, the weight of what lay ahead finally settling in.
The mission had begun.
The dungeon long ago stopped feeling like a place, it was a condition.
A living, breathing thing that gnawed at her sanity one slow, patient bite at a time. The stone was always cold, the air always damp, the silence always pressing--as if the darkness itself were waiting for her to finally give in.
Y/N lay curled on her side, knees tucked to her chest, the thin shift she wore clinging to skin mapped with faded scars. Scars that told stories she no longer bothered to remember. Stories she survived out of spite, not hope.
Hope had been the first thing to die.
She could still recall the moment it snapped--cleanly, brutally--like bone under pressure.
It wasn't the first beating. It wasn't the chains. It was her mother.
Her mother's blood.
Her mother's last breath, spent whispering her name. Her mother's fingers trembling against her cheek before going still.
She had screamed then--a raw, desperate sound she didn't recognize. But when the cell door slammed shut on her first night in the darkness...she stopped screaming.
Days became weeks. Weeks became months. Months bled into years. She lost track somewhere between the tenth and the hundredth time she tried to count.
She learned to mark time by other things: the rhythm of dripping water, the scrape of a guard's boot passing by, the faint hum of wards vibrating against her skin like a cage made of magic instead of iron.
And throughout all of it, she never once felt a tug in her chest. A thread. A bond. Maybe her so called father would take mercy upon her. Maybe her half-brother would come find her. But...that was just bullshit and Y/N understood that after her fifth year.
Blood never called to blood. She was well and truly forgotten.
Her breathing hitched when she thought that--forgotten--because there was a time, long ago, that she would have cried at the idea.
Now?
She only felt numb.
Her magic simmered somewhere deep inside her, coiled and forced to stay there. Y/N didn't know how or when they did it but she just couldn't use her powers. She remembers the first time she tried to attack the guards with her mind and froze in shock when absolutely nothing happened.
They took that from her too.
It pressed at her ribs when she was angry, hummed beneath her skin when she dreamed. But the wards made sure it never rose. Never broke free.
Some days she wondered what it would feel like if she stopped resisting, let the power turn inward, burn her out from the inside.
A clean ending.
Quieter than this slow decay.
She didn't think that was tragic anymore--just...logical.
Y/N shifted, wincing as dried blood cracked along her knuckles. She had smashed her fist into the wall last night. She couldn't remember why. Anger had become a habit. Something to prove that she was still alive.
Her gaze drifted to the ceiling--a slab of stone far above her reach. She used to imagine stars beyond it. A sky. Fresh air. Open space.
Now she only saw weight.
The crushing reminder that she was buried.
Her voice, when she finally spoke for no one but the walls to hear, sounded like someone else's.
"...How much longer?" she whispered.
The darkness, as always, answered with absolute silence.
Y/N closed her eyes.
And somewhere deep inside her chest, something flickered--not hope, not fear, but the faintest tremor of change.
A warning. A promise.
Something was shifting. Not outside. Within her.
The kind of shift that happened when magic tested its cage one last time.
The kind that made the wards hum a little sharper. The kind that meant the girl in the dungeon wasn't as dead inside as everyone hoped.
Not yet.
"...I've traced every known passage beneath the Hewn City."
Azriel's voice cut through the room, low and steady, even as a restless chill crawled beneath his skin. Shadows curled along the floor around his boots, agitated.
The entire Inner Circle was gathered in the River House: Rhys at the head, Feyre beside him, Cassian lounging with forced ease, Nesta razor-straight, Amren perched like a predator, Mor leaning forward, and Eris standing against the far wall--hands clasped behind his back, expression carved from amber.
Azriel continued.
"I've cross-referenced old war maps, compared power signatures across every restricted section of the court of Nightmares, and gathered all intelligence from spies stationed there over the last decade."
Cassian nodded. "So nothing slips in or out without us knowing. It has always been like this. I don't understand how this situation can even happen...We always knew of everything that happened within our borders."
Az shook his head. "At least...that's what we think we know."
A ripple moved through the room--confusion, curiosity. Rhys' violet eyes sharpened. Mor straightened. Azriel drew in a breath and began:
"There's a blind spot. A small one. About the size of a single chamber. Wards so old they don't match any high lord's signature. They're scavenged--layered, altered, buried beneath spells meant to erase their presence entirely."
Feyre frowned. "Erase? As in--hide something?"
Azriel nodded once. "Or someone."
A heavy silence fell.
Eris didn't move, but Azriel felt his mate's attention like a hand on his spine.
Rhys leaned forward slowly. "Explain."
Azriel forced his voice to stay calm. "Earlier, when Eris showed the inscribed document from Beron's vault--mentioning a 'Night Court princess' with unassessed power levels. The dates do not match any known lineage. The wards I found date back roughly the same number of years."
Nesta inhaled sharply. "So the hidden chamber...could be- "
"A cell," Mor finished quietly.
Azriel kept going. "Someone with significant raw power. Someone warded so thoroughly we would never sense her presence. Not even you, Rhys."
Rhysand's jaw locked. A muscle twitched beneath his eye. Az took out the old sheet of parchment Eris had delivered hours ago. "These symbols--Beron kept them hidden. He didn't want to risk someone tracing their meaning."
Rhys' gaze dropped to the page. And then his pupils blew wide.
Azriel felt the moment everything snapped together in Rhysand's mind--like the explosion of a star collapsing inward.
"My father," Rhys said softly. "He tampered with bloodlines. If we shared the same mother, she would've been raised beside me. So she didn't."
His head lifted, and fury--cold, ancient, lethal--filled his eyes.
"She's his bastard. Beron found out. He would've seen her as a threat. A political weapon. So he locked her away before her power matured. And because we carry the same blood, our courts both had reason to hide her."
Feyre whispered, "Mother above..."
Cassian swore. Mor's hand flew to her chest. Nesta's eyes flared with something like horror. Azriel swallowed.
Because the truth had a taste. It tasted like inevitability. Like destiny tightening around him like a fist.
Rhys stood abruptly. "I don't care about the protocols. We find her. We go in, we break every ward, we level the fucking mountain if we have to." His dropped to a razor whisper. "No more hidden anything or anyone in my court."
Voices erupted--plans, questions, strategies.
Azriel didn't speak. Couldn't.
Because while they debated, while Cassian suggested scouting some of Helion's peregrines and Feyre offered winnowing in and out quickly as a solution and Amren muttered about ancient ward-break methods...
Azriel felt something wrong inside his chest. A pull. A need.
A fierce, inexplicable urgency that had nothing to do with duty. He tried to smother it--but shadows surged up his throat like smoke.
She's part of us, he told himself. She's Rhysand's sister. That's why.
But the excuse rang hollow. It felt like more. More than family. More than obligation. More than anything he had words for.
A soft brush touched his mind. Eris.
Az didn't flinch, didn't turn. Didn't give a single sign they were speaking mind-to-mind in a room full of observant predators. Also, it was the fact that Rhys would be pissed as hell to know that he taught Eris how to speak mentally.
You felt it too, Eris murmured through the bond.
A statement, not a question.
Azriel swallowed. I don't know what I feel.
Eris' mental laugh was quiet, strained. Liar.
Az's jaw tightened.
We need caution, Eris continued, tone sharpening. Whatever this is--whatever she is--we approach carefully. We cannot compromise ourselves or her safety.
"I know," Azriel murmured aloud, disguised as a comment to Nesta's suggestion.
Across the room, Eris' amber eyes flicked to him--warm, just for a heartbeat.
I love you, Azriel, Eris whispered.
The words tightened Az's chest painfully. He sent them back before he could stop himself. I love you.
A tiny smile ghosted Eris' lips. Gone an instant later as Rhys' voice snapped the room back into focus. "We leave in one day. Enough time to gather intel, prepare, break every barrier between her and freedom."
Azriel nodded stiffly, shadows curling around him like a vow. He didn't know why this mattered so much. But he knew one thing: He would find her. Or he would burn the mountain trying.
Night pressed heavily against the windows of the guest suite, thick and violet-soft, the hum of the Sidra barely audible. Velaris slept.
Eris did not.
He sat on the edge of the bed-bare torso bowed forward, elbows braced on his knees--staring at nothing. His thoughts kept looping, weaving, tightening.
The mission is set.
Rhysand had made the plan painfully clear: He and Feyre would enter the Court of Nightmares at dawn, flanked by Cassian, Nesta, and Mor--nothing unusual, nothing suspicious. A High Lord visiting his sub court was common enough that even the warded fools of the Hewn City wouldn't question it.
Meanwhile, Eris and Azriel would slip in unseen, moving through tunnels and shadow-paths Azriel had never explained in detail. Eris had long stopped trying to understand how the Shadowsinger knew half the things he knew.
Their task: Find the hidden warded chamber. Break into it using the decoding Amren had provided. Extract the girl.
Rhysand's half-sister.
The lost Night Court princess.
Eris exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair.
Hours ago--when Rhys had first read the document, fury shaking every breath--Eris had felt it. The High Lord's devastation. His disbelief. His guilt. A silent storm that filled the entire war room.
I am the High Lord, Rhys had said. There isn't a place in the Court of Nightmares and Dreams I don't know. How could this be under my nose?
Eris' own heart had tinged at the rawness in his voice. Because Eris understood. He understood the betrayal of discovering that the evil you thought you knew was so much worse. That the cruelty of a father could run deeper than you had ever imagined.
He remembered standing in his father's sealed vault after his passing (or murder), the parchment trembling in his hands.
He had known Beron was a monster. He had not known he was this kind.
Why would Beron agree to this? Why help another high lord hide a bastard child--only to imprison her himself? What did he gain? What was exchanged between those two?
The questions had gnawed at Eris all day.
He stared down at his hands when a soft shift beside him pulled him from the spiral.
"Eris?"
Azriel's voice. Low. Rough with sleep, warm with something gentler.
Eris turned.
Azriel lay half-propped on one elbow, shadows drifting lazily around him like they hadn't been hissing at him all day. His hair was mussed, bare chest rising and falling slowly beneath the thin sheet.
He was beautiful. And concerned.
Eris forced a breath. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't," Az murmured, studying him with that piercing depth only he possessed. "You're thinking too loudly."
Eris huffed a humorless laugh and looked away. "Hard not to."
Azriel shifted closer, sheet slipping down his torso. "Talk to me."
Eris swallowed. "My father," he said quietly. "I knew he was cruel. But this..." His jaw tightened. "Why involve himself in a plot this sick? Why hide a faeling that wasn't even his?"
Azriel didn't answer immediately.
He sat up fully, reaching out. His hand brushed Eris' thigh--not in any sexual way, just grounding warmth.
"We may never know what Beron gained from this," Az said gently. "But we know what she lost."
The words sank deep.
Eris nodded once. "And yet...why now? Why are we only feeling this...pull now? She's been locked away for years."
Azriel's throat bobbed. "I don't know."
But his shadows shivered--like they disagreed. Eris watched him carefully. "Az."
Azriel met his gaze, eyes dark and troubled. "It feels wrong," he admitted softly. "This urgency. This...need to get to her." His brows furrowed. "She's Rhys' sister--that should be enough. Especially after the fact that he had already lost one sister. The mere knowledge that another sister of his is alive and suffering is eating him alive. But it isn't. It isn't enough for me, Eris."
Eris' breath caught. Yes. Yes, he felt it too. Like a thread pulled tight inside him, humming with something ancient and insistent. "I don't understand it," Azriel whispered. "But it's there."
Eris lifted a hand, cupping Azriel's jaw. "We'll figure it out. After we get her out."
Azriel closed his eyes for a heartbeat, leaning into the touch like a male starved. Then his mind brushed Eris', warm and familiar. We need to be careful tomorrow.
I know, Eris responded silently.
Az's eyes opened--soft, vulnerable. Something unspoken moved between them. A small, fleeting smile tugged at Eris' lips before fading, replaced by the grim resolve they both shared.
Tomorrow, they would enter the darkness. Tomorrow, they would find the lost sister.
Azriel leaned his forehead to Eris', voice barely a whisper. "Get some sleep, Eris. We go at dawn."
Eris nodded but he didn't move away. Neither did Azriel. Because both of them felt it-
Somewhere deep beneath Hewn City...the girl was waiting. And something inside them was already reaching back.
The obsidian pillars of the Court of Nightmares rose like teeth, catching the torchlight in jagged, cruel gleams. Azriel stood in the far shadows of the throne room's entrance as Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, Nesta and Mor strode inward--an illusion of calm domination masking the violence coiled beneath their skin.
Eris lingered at Azriel's side, a half-step behind, his posture deceptively relaxed, hidden in his shadows. Only Azriel noticed the tension in his hands. Only Azriel heard the sharp double-beat of his heart.
The distraction had begun.
Rhys's voice echoed through the chamber, smooth and cold, commanding attention. The crowd parted for him like a shoreline bowing to the tide.
Azriel exhaled once. The promise Rhys had extracted from him pressed like a brand on his spine. "Don't fail me. Don't fail her."
Rhys rarely asked. He never begged. Azriel had no intention of returning empty-handed.
Eris unrolled the tightly folded map Amren had given them--layered with wards, tunnels, pressure points beneath the mountain. It was old. Incomplete. And Amren's parting words were hardly reassuring: "You'll have to rely on your instincts. And...on him."
Azriel tried not to let his jaw tighten.
Shadows fluttered all around him now, whispering routes, warning of heat signatures beneath stone. The underground maze sprawled into dozens of paths. Too many dead ends. Too many traps.
Too much time wasted...if they chose wrong. But he wouldn't leave without her. Even if it meant tearing the mountain down with his bare hands. He turned to Eris. "Ready?"
Eris's smirk was quick, sharp, masking the storm Azriel could sense beneath. "Let's just hope luck is on our side today."
Azriel's siphons flared once, shadows gathering at his feet like an eager tide. "Luck," he murmured, "has nothing to do with it."
He gripped Eris's arm, shadows swallowing them both whole--dragging them down into the cold, narrow dark.
The descent felt endless.
Azriel's shadows moved like smoke over his skin, brushing against Eris's magic with cool, inquisitive touches. He pretended it didn't unsettle him. He'd seen many horrors back in his court, survived worse than most ever would. But this--this--felt different.
Because she was down there. Because she had been down there for Cauldron knows how long.
And because Eris still remembered the moment he read the rest of the document in his father's handwriting: "The girl is contained. Do not speak of her."
He'd felt sick. Frozen. And now, walking in suffocating tunnels carved of black stone with only his fire and Azriel's siphons casting light, he felt that sickness again. A pulse of magic throbbed underfoot. Azriel stiffened beside him. "That ward's fresh," the shadowsinger muttered. "She's close."
She.
The stranger none of them had met. The one who felt inexplicably tied to the world twisting around them. He swallowed hard.
Hours ago, lying in his and Azriel's bed at the House of Wind, he hadn't been able to sleep. His thoughts had circled her--her unknown face, the cruelty she must've endured. Now, as the tunnel split into three yawning paths, Azriel halted.
Shadows swirled violently around his boots, tugging at him, frantic.
"Left," he whispered.
Eris nodded, fire licking at his fingertips as he prepared for whatever awaited them. "Then go," he said. "Before Rhys's distraction becomes a war."
Azriel shot forward, silent and lethal.
Eris followed. Both of them running toward the same goal. Both refusing--adamantly refusing--to fail.
The torches outside her cells cracked low, barely cutting through the stale, metallic air. Y/N sat with her back against the cold wall, knees tucked up, staring at nothing. Staring at everything.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor--slow, bored, familiar.
The guards. Their voices drifted towards her cells' bars, smug and unhurried.
"Did you hear?" one snorted. "The almighty high lord decided to grace us peasants with his presence today."
"Surprise visit," another replied, filled with mocking awe. "Probably wants to remind everyone how powerful he is." A laugh. "Or maybe he's checking on his precious pets upstairs."
Her jaw clenched. Rhysand.
Of course he would be here. The perfect high lord with his perfect façade. Her fingers curled against stone.
She'd convinced herself long ago that she wasn't worth saving. That he already knew she was down here. That he allowed it.
And yet-
When the guards kept talking, something ugly and hot twisted in her chest. "High Lord of the Night Court," the first guard sneered. "More like High Lord of Cowards. Dragging his little family around like ornaments."
"His mate, his cousin, all of them," another scoffed. "Parading around like they're better than the rest of us- "
"Shut up," Y/N muttered under her breath before she could stop herself, irritation flaring sharp and sudden. She wasn't even sure why it bothered her. Why the insult tugged at something deep, something buried.
She didn't owe Rhysand anything. She hated him. She hated all of them.
But hearing these pieces of shit mock him--mock the others--felt wrong. Like stones scraping against bone.
She turned her face away, exhaling shakily. The guards kept bickering, unaware or uncaring of her darkening expression. But then-
A distant boom reverberated through the stone. Soft. Faint.
The torches flickered. Silence swallowed the corridor for a heartbeat.
"What was that?" one guard muttered. Another scoffed but his voice trembled. "Probably the tunnels shifting. Happens all the- "
A second crack vibrated through the floor.
Then a scream. Then two more.
Heavy boots thundered through the hallway as newer guards sprinted in, faces pale, eyes wild.
"BREAKTHROUGH!" one shouted. "Someone's in the lower tunnels--wards are failing!"
Her pulse slammed against her ribs.
Another guard stumbled into view, panting. "They're moving fast--shadows--fire--someone's down there- "
Y/N pushed up onto her feet, heart racing so violently it hurt. Shadows and Fire. Breaking wards. Now is her chance.
She could already feel her restrained power slowly begin simmering to the top as more wards got broken.
Please...please...
The corridor trembled again, dust shaking loose from the ceiling. Her hands pressed flat against the iron door, breath ragged.
"This is it," she whispered. "This is my chance. Please--just break the door. Break the gods damned door- "
And the sounds kept getting closer. Louder. Hungrier. Her heart was pounding so hard it rattled her bones. Break the door. Please, just break the door so I can escape.
Darkness pulsed in the hallway. and something--someone--was coming.
Another ward snapped.
Not quietly--not subtly--but like a bone cracking inside the mountain.
Y/N gasped as something hot and familiar rippled under her skin. Magic.
Her magic.
Weak and fractured… but waking.
She staggered back from the bars, clutching the wall as a second wave hit her bloodstream, burning through the numbness that had been her whole existence.
Outside, chaos broke loose.
“GET THE BITCH AND RUN!” a guard shouted, voice cracking with terror.
Her heart lurched.
Now. Now.
This was her only chance.
The nearest guard fumbled for the keys, hands shaking so badly the iron clinked against the lock. He didn’t even realize--none of them did--that the final ward had just fallen.
The moment the door swung open--
Y/N unleashed everything she had left.
Power--raw, wild, starving--burst from her palms.
It slammed into the guard’s chest with a violent crack, launching him backward so hard he crashed into the opposite wall. Stone shattered. The ceiling groaned. Half the damn corridor collapsed onto him.
The entire cell block shook as her magic tore free, ripping the old rusted bars apart like they were paper.
She didn’t wait.
She ran.
Her legs trembled violently beneath her, unused to actual movement, but adrenaline shoved her forward. Her lungs burned, her bare feet stung on cold stone, but she kept going--she had to.
Shouts echoed behind her.
More guards up ahead.
“No--no no no-” she choked out, trying to summon another blast, but her power fizzled, unstable, still fractured.
Two guards lunged.
She dodged one--barely--kicked another, but she was too weak. Too drained. Too slow.
A rough hand grabbed her arm.
Another grabbed her hair.
A third pinned her against the wall.
She thrashed, desperate, terrified-
but she couldn’t overpower all of them.
Not like this.
Not after years locked away.
“Hold her- ”
“She’s awake--how?”
“Just knock her- ”
Then one guard went still.
His eyes rolled back.
His mouth opened.
And shadows--thick, cold, endless shadows--poured into it.
Not just his mouth.
His nose.
His ears.
He collapsed instantly.
Dead.
Another guard screamed--too late--before shadows slipped under his skin, suffocating him from the inside. Y/N froze.
She hit the floor hard, scrambling back, hands shaking violently.
No, no, please-
Not magic like that, not something she couldn’t see or stop-
She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the same darkness to crawl into her.
Instead-
A voice, rough and breathless, said:
“Hey--hey, we’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Her eyes snapped open.
Two males stood over her, panting, covered in dirt and blood and sweat.
One with ember-red hair, golden-brown eyes burning with worry, his armor cracked and smoking.
And beside him--a male carved from night.
Dark hair, shadows curling around him like living smoke, face smeared with blood, chest heaving. Beautiful. Terrifying.
The second male crouched and extended a hand toward her.
“Come on,” he said, voice urgent but surprisingly gentle. “We don’t have much time--we need to get out- ”
She stared at his hand.
At the shadows.
At his eyes.
And something inside her snapped. Her palm cracked across his face before she even realized she was moving.
Both males froze.
The ember-haired one blinked, stunned. The shadowed one slowly straightened, shock flickering across his features.
Y/N pushed past them, stumbling, running blindly-
But she felt them coming after her. Heard their footsteps. Panic flared so violently her magic surged again, wild and instinctive.
“NO!” she screamed--raw, terrified. “NO--STAY AWAY!”
Power exploded out of her like a tidal wave. The blast slammed into them both, hurling them backward. The shadows vanished. Flames sputtered. Stone cracked.
She sagged to her knees, vision trembling. That was all she had for now. The world blurred.
And the last thing she saw before darkness swallowed her-
were their faces again, hovering above her.
Two males she didn’t know.
Two males who shouldn’t have been able to find her.
Two males looking at her as if they’d been searching for her their whole lives.
Hear me out. Azriel and Eris being lovers since before Mor and Eris got engaged but once the engagement happened and Azriel and Eris broke things off because everything was "too complicated" despite them both knowing of the mating bond and not telling the other about it. Beron was also getting suspicious of Eris and so, to make sure Azriel would be safe, Eris made himself out to be the villain with everything that happened to Mor just to get Azriel to hate him and stay away. Meanwhile Azriel's 'hatred' for Eris that everyone assumes is because he hurt Mor, the woman Az loves, is actually because Azriel felt betrayed that his mate went against his family. In reality Azriel kind of blames Mor because she is what drove the initial wedge between them, intentionally or not, but he also feels guilty because he knows Mor suffered at the hands of the person he can't help but love most and he feels like a monster and a horrible friend because of it but at the same time loving Eris is so deeply ingrained into Azriel that there's nothing he can do but keep on loving him. Both of them yearning while Eris fights with his fear for Az's safety and Az fights with his heartbreak and betrayal. The inner circle starts suspecting that there's something more between them after seeing them interact at a few meetings and they want the full story but the real question is whether or not they can pry the truth from either of the two.
Someone please recommend Azris fics where they get together before or during the engagement with Mor!!!
Pretty pretty please can you write some azris x fem reader smutty angst forced proximity goodness! Azris can be established pair and then they meet reader who initially they all don’t get along buttttt they are obsesssed with her then BOOM TRIAD BOND ANGSTY PERFECTIONNNNN 🥵🥵🥵
A Missing Piece
Pairing: Azris x Reader
Summary: Eris, in a secret relationship with Azriel, seeks you out and marries you in order not to raise suspicions from his father. What happens when Autumn's High Lord discovers the truth?
WC: 2.2k words
Warnings: Angst, injuries, mention of blood, jealousy (kinda?), Eris being married but having a lover on the side (it's not cheating, not really. It's known. It's more like an arrangement), hurt/comfort
Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears 💕
“Eris!”
You could remember as if it was yesterday, the day a winged figured male had burst through the doors of the forest house, carrying Eris—bruised and bloodied—into his arms.
“He's my mate,” Eris rasped, before going uncouncious in the Illyrian's arms.
That was the day Beron had set a trap to Eris, having discovered his son's trickery and deciding to take matters into his own hands. He hadn't planned that Azriel and Eris would be seeing each other in Dún Èideann—Autumn's capital state—that night, despite the storm raging. Eris had only been ordered to scout for rebels, and Beron had been waiting for him instead, plotting his son's murder.
Later, you had found out that some servants had overheard you and Eris one night, talking about the reason you had gotten married in the first place.
You and Eris had been friends since your youth. You had always known the pressure Beron was putting on his son to find a wife, and one day, when you had questioned Eris on his hesitancy, he had confessed that he was seeing someone already, someone whom he couldn't be with, not publicly. So you had offered him your hand, making an oath to keep his secret, in exchange of being saved from getting married to some random horrible male.
You had never expected Eris to be so kind to you throughout the years following the wedding. He had been nothing but honest about his whereabouts, though never quite entering the details about this mysterious person he was seeing. A bond forged on trust and respect had grown between the two of you, holding you together like strong and wild vines. You had found a friend in him, a partner, and he in you as well.
Your first meeting with Azriel had been frantic, hurried, trying to save Eris from dying in his arms. You had led him to the healing quarters, and coaxed him into dropping Eris down to a cot to let the healers work on him.
Through it all, their hands had remained joined. Azriel barely blinked, even as the healers were done tending to Eris' wounds, assuring them that he would live. He had stayed by Eris' side, some strange sort of shadows seeming to seep out of his body.
You had stayed awkwardly, caring for Eris' well being, and curious about this mysterious winged male—quite handsome male, you must admit—sitting by his side.
“Eris told me about you,” you said, finally breaking the silence. Azriel shot you a menacing glare, his eyes as sharp as the dagger tied to his hip. “I'm glad he has you.”
Something shifted in his demeanor then, as if you had managed to slip through a crack in the thick armor he was wearing to protect himself.
“What's your name?”
The male sitting beside Eris bed tensed, his wings twitching discreetly as he seemed to ponder whether he should answer your question or not.
“Azriel,” He answered, his voice deep and smooth like silk. He broke eye contact with you then, looking back down at Eris’ unconscious form.
Sensing that this discussion wouldn't go further tonight, you had risen from where you sat, Eris’ mattress regaining his form. “Tell the healers to come and warn me when he'll wake up, please.” You smiled politely, watching him offer you a curt nod as an answer, then you left the two of them alone, offering some much earned privacy.
Eris woke up days later. His face was pale—paler than usual—and his cheeks were hollowed, his bones showing up more from the carence in nutrients his body had gone through.
Azriel had told the healers to come and get you, as per your request. Relief flooded over you at seeing Eris awake. You were glad he had made it through.
You had stayed in the shadows, lingering by the infirmary door. You had observed the two males, watching how they interacted with each other. Eris and Azriel were like stars and planets, orbiting around the other, meant to be.
Something had stirred in your chest at the sight of it. It wasn't jealousy, no. Not exactly. More like resiliation, and the itching desire to belong there, too. The thought of being a part of it, of them, startled you at first. You had never thought possible for you to desire something like that before, of wanting two males all at once.
Before you could make sense of the turmoil of emotions brewing in your chest, Eris' voice called your name.
“Y/N…”
Soft, almost weak. Still raspy from not using his voice in days. It made your heart jump slightly, but you quickly tucked it away. Eris had never chosen you, he had made it clear from the start, and you had both agreed. But they did. And you knew you had to make your mind with it, because you respected Eris, and wanted his happiness more than anything in this world.
“I'm glad you're awake,” You fidgeted with your sleeves, the lacework feeling nice and grounding between your fingers tips.
You turned your face to Azriel, “I wanted to thank you, Azriel. For saving my… husband. For saving Eris.” You felt his gaze fall on your hands. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you stopped your fidgeting, trying to look more confident. “Please, feel free to stay at the Forest House for as long as you need. I'll make sure not to interfere between you two.”
You saw Eris' face drop, and guilt twisting his features. Before he could open his mouth and try to make you feel better, you raised your hand and shook your head.
“It's… It's okay, Eris. Well… I guess. You had made it clear from the very beginning that someone else—Azriel had your heart. I just… I need time, please.”
He tried to sit up in bed, Azriel quickly assisted him as Eris’ face contorted in pain. “Y/N, please. Let me explain-”
“There's nothing to explain, Eris.” You smiled softly at him, taking a step back, moving toward the corridor. “Rest. Give me time. You don't have to feel bad about anything. It's okay,” You turned around, took a deep shaky sigh. “We may talk about it later, if you wish. But not now, please.”
Eris didn't answer, didn't call you back, only watched you leave. Your footsteps echoed in the House as you walked away, leaving the two lovers together, as it should.
Azriel, surprisingly, had stayed. You weren’t sure where Eris slept at night, since you had spent the past nights alone, in your bed. Your guess was that he had been sleeping in the Illyrian’s bed. But knowing Eris and his self-sabotaging tendencies, perhaps he had resolved to sleeping alone in the infirmary.
Weeks went by, and you found Azriel’s presence in the forest house not as uncomfortable as you would have thought. You didn’t hate him for being Eris’ lover, nor did he seem to resent you for taking an important place for such a long time in Eris’ life while he had to stay in the shadows.
Eventually, once the tension had seemed to fade and you had stopped avoiding Eris like the plague, you three had fallen into some kind of routine.
The three of you would share breakfast together. The table was quiet at first, none of you dared to speak. The atmosphere in the room was frigid, but it warmed up, eventually.
You had been the first to break the ice, asking Azriel about his life, passions, occupation. You had learned that he worked for the Night Court’ High Lord. His brother, he called him, but not by blood, by choice.
You hadn’t managed to inquire about his blood family. It seemed to be a sensitive cord for him, much like it was for Eris. So you respected that, and moved on to something lighter.
Eris had to go through physical therapy in the afternoon. The blow his father had thrown his way before Azriel could interfere had left damages, even on his Fae body. Now, he needed to walk with a crutch. Eris used it with grace, though, not showing one ounce of weakness. You had witnessed Azriel needing to discreetly make him slow down and rest a few times.
One time, when Eris had been out with the healer for his therapy, you had offered Azriel to have tea with you.
That, too, soon became part of your daily routine.
Throughout the passing weeks, which then stretched into a whole month, the three of you had sort of settled into a domestic tranquility.
The flicker of guilt and unsaid things between you and Eris was still palpable, though. Until one night, he decided that things needed to change.
After one quick exchange with Azriel, the shadowsinger was on his feet.
“I feel like I have overstayed my welcome, Lady Y/N. My High Lord needs me around, so. I shall thank you, really, for your hospitality.”
“Oh! Well, you’re welcome to come back and stay for as long as you wish, Azriel, really. This house is probably more yours than mine anyway, as you are technically Eris’ partner while I’m just, well… me.”
The silence fell upon the room, only the sound of your utensils scraping your plate as you moved the food around echoing.
“Y/N…”
“Eris,” You cut him quickly while your shoulders curved inward. “It’s fine, really.”
“I… I will leave, now,” Azriel quickly said, then walked out of the room. He stopped by Eris momentarily, though, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze and placing a silent kiss to the top of his head.
The moment Azriel had walked out of the room, Eris tried again.
“Y/N, darling, we need to talk-”
“No, Eris. We really don’t.” You snorted, shaking your head as you tried to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “You need to let me go, Eris. It’s fine, really. I was planning to move out soon, anyway.”
“I can’t,” his voice shook, “Y/N, darling, I can't. I need you by my side.”
“What you ask is not fair, Eris. Not for me, nor you, and definitely not for Azriel.” You snapped, staring straight into his copper eyes as you spoke.
“He needs you too, Y/N.” He was snarling now, fist clenched tight underneath the table. “Have we not made it obvious enough for you? We both need you, we want you here, in our life,” his breaths were coming in quick and rasped.
“Don’t leave,” he whispered, eyes wet and pleading. “We want you to be part of our life, if you’ll have us.”
He sucked in a breath, then exhaled it shakily. “Both of us,” he added, his face hard, showing no compromise would be possible.
The massive oak clock on your left, behind Eris, ticked as the seconds passed by.
You both looked—truly looked—at each other for the first time in over a month. A silent conversation flittered between the two of you, all the emotions resulting from weeks of repression sparkling like flashes of lightning in a storm.
“Azriel,” you called, finally breaking the silence. “Get back here.”
Azriel, looking all sheepish, reappeared from behind one of the dining room’ alcoves. “I… I didn’t mean to snoop.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms on your chest. You didn’t believe him for one second, and you had known he hadn’t left the room since the very beginning of this conversation.
“Right…” Azriel bit the inside of his cheek, the action making him appear more adorable than it was fair. “What Eris told you… It’s true, all of it.”
“We talked,” he continued. “It’s not a decision we took hastily. We have talked about it. A lot.”
“I… I’m not sure when I decided that this, making you a part of us, would be something I’d want. We just fell into this routine, and everything just seemed to… fit. Like you had always been a part of our life. In some ways, you have, I think. We just didn’t… know it yet.” Azriel smiled softly, then sat on your other side.
His next step shocked you. His hands scooped yours, his skin, scarred and imperfect, held yours. It was the first time Azriel touched you with purpose, and yet, it felt as if he had done this all his life. “I'd like us to try,” he said, his voice talking low and his face open, honest. “I think what’s going on between us three is good. It feels… comfortable. Natural.”
You looked back at Eris with teary eyes, then back at Azriel. There was no trace of hesitation to be found on their face. They were asking you, out of everyone, to be a part of their life. They have bared themself to you, left their heart open and raw, waiting for you to do as you wished with it.
At last, you nodded. “Okay.” You sniffled, squeezing Azriel hands tighter as you turned toward Eris. He was shaking, tears spilling on his freckled cheeks. “I’d like us to try, too.”
Azriel pulled you off your chair and took you in his arms, and you melted. He felt strong, steady, and smelled like night-chilled mist and cedar.
But something was missing.
You extended your hand toward Eris, a soft smile on your lips. “Both of you, Eris,” you reminded him, pulling the guilt off his skin as you reused his words.
Eris broke down, and he started to cry. All the relief washed away from him and escaped his body all at once.
You and Azriel moved, making your way toward Eris, and enveloped him in your warmth.
And just like that—in this mess of emotions and rawness—something beautiful started to bloom between the three of you.
A/N: Thank you for the request! I really enjoyed writing it... smut will be in part two 👀 stay tuned!
ALSO! MASSIVE THANK YOU TO @nocasdatsgay !! Love you lots, thanks for reading through this and giving me your professional throuple advices! Honestly, if you want to read more Azris x Reader fanfictions, go take a look at her page and give her work some well-deserved appreciation. 💕
ACOTAR general taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @paige0103 @princesssunderworld
Azriel visits Eris after the High Lords meeting. He’s not there to apologise and he’s certainly not there to explore why Eris was rock hard as he choked him.
Pairing: Azriel x Eris
Word count: 3k
Rating: explicit
Warnings: pwp, anal sex, mild angst, top!Eris, bottom!Azriel
A/N: yes yes I’m clearly having a time of it. More pwp absolutely spewed out in a short time frame. Trust me, my Neris and Eris week wips are staring daggers at me. I’m not tagging my usual taglist as I’m pretty sure none of you are Azris fans!
Eris hissed as he rubbed the burn ointment over his arms, the scalding was his fathers punishment for daring to challenge him at the High Lord meeting. He’d already nearly healed, but the ointment prevented scars. The air in his room moved ever so slightly and Eris smelt Azriel before he stepped out of the shadows.
“Come to finish me off have you?” Eris asked without looking behind him, pouring himself a glass of wine. He finally turned and Azriel glared at him, shadows swirling around his shoulders.
“You know I can’t kill you.” He grit out and Eris smirked as he took slow steps towards him.
“And you know I wasn’t talking about killing me.” He watched the storm of emotions swirl in Azriel’s eyes, and the way they seemed to struggle to stay on his face. Eris flexed his bare arms as he stepped closer still, trying not to get too excited by the prospect that maybe he liked what he saw.
“I didn’t take you for a masochist.” Azriel finally said, which made Eris laugh. He took a sip of wine and shook his head.
“Oh I’m not. Being strangled was horrible actually and for a moment I did genuinely fear for my life. But having you sat on my hips like I’ve always dreamt of was glorious. Cauldron, I think if you’d bounced a little I would have cum right then and there-” Azriel cut Eris off with a shove and a snarl. Wine spilt over Eris’s hand and he tsked as he swapped hands and burnt away the liquid dripping from his fingers with a flash of fire.
“Why so angry, Shadowsinger?” He taunted “are you that frustrated you can’t kill me? Or are you just angry at yourself because the thought of bouncing on my cock has you hard as a rock.” He winnowed directly in front of Azriel and grabbed his crotch, where indeed, his cock was straining against his Illyrian leathers. He grinned down at him smugly before he was shoved again.
“Why me?” Azriel asked, his voice barely more than a growl. Eris huffed a bitter laugh before walking past Azriel.
“Why you indeed. I think I’m just the one the Mother likes to torment the most.” He said with a mock dramatic sigh. At Azriel’s snort Eris turned sharply to fix him with a blazing stare.
“You don’t agree? Born to a father who hates me because I’m everything he isn’t and will never be and who makes my life hell because of it. To a mother who can scarcely look at me because I remind her so much of the man who makes her life hell. Surrounded by brothers who actively plot to kill me and take the power that I never asked for. And cursed with a…” he stopped his ranting and seethed before he drank deeply from his glass. Azriel watched in that silent, still way that drove Eris mad.
“If you’re not here to be fucked, Shadowsinger, what is it you want?” He asked, finishing the rest of the glass and dropping it on the side table nearest him. Azriel just stared, he didn’t know really why he had come here. Eris stared back evenly. He could play this game too.
“Would you?” Azriel asked quietly. Eris held a finger up behind his ear and frowned.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that?” He teased as he started walking back towards Azriel, whose fists and jaw clenched in irritation. He heard perfectly well and knew perfectly well what he meant, and Azriel didn’t know if he’d find the courage to say it again. Eris stopped within arms reach and Azriel’s cock throbbed at the scent of him. Desire took over.
“Would you…if that’s what I wanted?” He asked again, the shame washing over him as he saw the delight in Eris’s amber eyes.
“Would I, what?” Eris asked with that infuriating smirk. He reached out a pale, freckled hand slowly, giving Azriel the chance to bat him away. He didn’t. Eris slid his hand over his hips and round to the small of his back. He stepped closer and Azriel could feel the heat radiating from him even through the thick leathers, and smell the shift in his scent. Their bodies weren’t touching and Azriel found himself leaning forward on his feet to try and close the distance. Eris was looking down at him with a disbelieving smile. There wasn’t much between them in height, Eris had perhaps an inch or two on him, but he always had a way of making it feel like a foot.
“Ask nicely, Shadowsinger, and I’ll give you everything you want.” Eris leant to murmur in his ear, his hot breath sending a shiver through Azriel which delighted the prince, who chuckled. The embarrassment and the frustration this caused was too much for Azriel, who launched himself at Eris and kissed him. An undignified sound of surprise caught in Eris’s throat before he laughed into the kiss, his hands coming together at the base of Azriel’s spine and pulling him closer.
Azriel’s scarred hands had grabbed Eris’s face, but now they smoothed into his hair, which felt like the softest silk slipping over his fingers. He moaned as Eris slid his tongue into his mouth, gently exploring. It wasn’t enough. He pulled his head toward him as he pushed his hips forward, pressing his hard length against Eris’s thigh. Eris gasped and shifted them so when he pushed his hips back in turn, their cocks rubbed against each other. The pleasure caused them both to moan, foreheads pressed together. Eris looked down and leaned back enough that they could watch them grind against each other, and admire the wet patch starting to form on Eris’s red sleep pants.
“What is it you want?” He asked again, his voice low and thick with lust, gripping Azriel’s waist tighter.
“I…I want you to fuck me.” Azriel conceded, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment. Eris grabbed his chin and shook it so he opened his eyes. Azriel’s mouth hung open slightly as he saw the flames blazing in Eris’s eyes, the hunger and relief etched onto his face, in the set of his brow.
“Gods, Azriel, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that.” He breathed before kissing him, and like a dam had broken they became frenzied. Hands were everywhere, clothes being pawed at and discarded, kisses were all teeth and tongue and desperation.
Finally naked and on the bed, Eris gently pushed Azriel against the pillows, not breaking the kiss and reached his hand down between them. Azriel wasn’t sure when Eris hand oiled his hand but he was grateful as it wrapped around both of them, holding them together as they moved. The heir broke the kiss to study the spy’s face. Every gasp, every twitch of his brow, the way his entire face contorted in pleasure, and he’d barely started.
“How do you want me to take you?” Eris asked, looking down his nose at the panting mess below him. Azriel met his hooded gaze and his mind went simultaneously empty and overloaded with images of all the ways he wanted Eris to fuck him. He must have been lost for a moment too long as the red head sneered.
“As much as I wish I did, I don’t have all night.” He bent and licked a line up Azriel’s neck and nibbled on his ear lobe, simultaneously running his large hands over his chest and thumbing his nipples. The huge Illyrian gasped, wings twitching where he’d spread them on the bed. Eris sat up, rolling his hips as he let his fingers trail over the swirling tattoos across Azriel’s chest.
“You’re perfect.” Eris breathed, forgetting momentarily that just a few hours ago he’d tried to kill him, forgetting that he claimed to hate him. Azriel didn’t say anything, or give any reaction except, but the twitch of his length gave away how much he enjoyed the compliment.
Azriel almost found it funny, how someone as perfectly perfect as Eris could look at him and think he was anything other than a mess. And not just in this exact moment, but in every moment of his life. The scars, the shadows, how quiet he was, all the horrible things he’d done. Some of them he’d day dreamed about doing to Eris, and yet here he was, seeing it all and calling him perfect. He ran his eyes over Eris’s large frame. He was leaner than Azriel, most males were, but he was surprisingly built. He remembered it shouldn’t actually be too surprising, he is a general. He hungrily tracked the freckles that absolutely covered Eris’s body, down his arms, across his chest and stomach, down his legs. His eyes snapped back to his large cock which he hoped would soon be buried inside him.
“Is this the first time you’ve-” Eris started to ask, eyes not leaving the tattoos, wondering if the unfamiliarity of sleeping with a male was the reason for his silence.
“No,” Azriel interrupted hurriedly with a shake of his head. Eris flicked his eyes up to meet the hazel ones staring at him. A smile played at his lips as he raised his eyebrows.
“I make you nervous?” Eris asked in disbelief and Azriel huffed.
“You overwhelm me.” He answered truthfully, his face flushing at the admission, waiting for the barrage of jokes and teasing. It didn’t come as amber eyes assessed him, red eyebrows knotted together.
“If this is too much…” Eris frowned, pulling his hands away from their exploration and placing them on his knees. Azriel felt the weight of him start to ease and quickly grabbed his hips, pulling him back down.
“It’s not enough.” Azriel’s voice was gruff, and a groan broke from his throat as he bucked up against Eris. The prince wrapped his hand back around both of them and moved again.
“I need you…gods, I need you to…I want you…” Azriel couldn’t get the words out, as he watched Eris’s pre cum drip down onto his own flushed tip and mix with his. With a deep groan Eris threw his head back.
“It’s okay, Shadowsinger, you’ll have me,” he reached a hand behind him and gently parted Azriel’s cheeks and caressed the tight ring of muscle.
“Right where you need me.” He said with a smirk as a ragged moan ripped from Azriel’s throat. Eris removed his hands, delighting in the whine Azriel let out at the loss of contact, to pour a generous amount of oil over his fingers. He shifted back and bent Azriel’s legs out of his way. He had to take a moment to appreciate the sight of the warrior spread before him; his huge cock leaking so prettily, the sweat glistening on his dark skin, the muscles tensing in his stomach and the heaving of his chiseled chest with every deep inhale.
Eris smiled and slid an oiled finger to Azriel’s entrance, lazily tracing around the edge before pushing in slowly.
“Fuck,” Eris grunted as he watched the shadow singers eyes roll back before he squeezed them shut with a gasp. He moved his finger slowly, while his other hand steadied them both on Azriel’s hip. With gentle precision, another finger joined the first and Azriel’s entire being focused solely on the feel. He’d been with males before, had taken and given in equal measure, but nothing had ever felt this good. With a whimper that made him blush, he opened his eyes and gasped at the intense look on Eris’s face. He was watching him with such hunger it sent a shock of arousal down his spine, making him buck up. Eris smirked, scissoring his fingers slowly before adding a third.
“Greedy bat,” he murmured, finally breaking eye contact to watch his fingers disappear with a groan. Azriel didn’t think he could take it any longer.
“Please.” He whispered, making Eris snap his head up in delight. He gave him a feral grin and sighed.
“Such a good boy, I didn’t even have to ask you to beg.” Eris tried to sound mocking, but his voice was so strained it took all sting out of it. He removed his fingers and poured more oil on his hand before he wrapped his fist around himself, smothering the oil down before focusing on his tip. His hips jerked at the sensation, he didn’t think he was going to last long inside Azriel’s tight heat but didn’t think Azriel was going to last much longer than he. Eris notched himself at Azriel’s entrance, rubbing himself teasing around the hole before locking eyes. Azriel gave a slight nod and Eris pushed forward. They both moaned as Eris pushed deeper, Azriel putting a foot on Eris’s hip to stop him.
“Fuck…wait…” Azriel moaned, eyes screwed shut as he felt himself clench and relax and Eris, who was starting to shake with restraint, but kept his eyes firmly on Azriel’s face waiting for the okay. When he finally nodded, Eris moved again, pulling himself out before pushing back in further. The sounds he received for this effort had him repeating the move until he was finally fully sheathed inside Azriel, their foreheads pressed together.
“You feel so good, shit, I’m not…this won’t take long,” Eris panted, quickly kissing Azriel who shifted his hips and pulled Eris against him.
“Me-” his breath hitched as his cock brushed Eris’s stomach “me neither, fuck.” He dragged him back in for another kiss as Eris began to move with slow and deep thrusts. Azriel had never felt such peace, like his entire being was relaxed, his shadows gracefully slipping over Eris’s skin, just relishing the feel of him. This was right, so very right, he’d made a good choice in coming here, why did he ever think it was a bad idea? He moaned into the kiss, which seemed to snap something in Eris.
He sat up and started to move faster, putting more power behind each thrust, watching with pure lust as his cock pounded into Azriel. He grabbed Azriel’s sorely neglected length and moved his hand up and down it. Azriel threw his head back and arched his back, and Eris wanted the image burned into his memory forever. He’d envisioned this so many times, but none of his fantasies lived up to the reality of fucking the male who had wanted him dead. With a snarl he started to move even faster, Azriel’s body jerking with the force of his thrusts.
“So-so good. Oh fuck!” Eris moaned, a string of curses and compliments falling freely from his mouth, he wasn’t even sure what he was actually saying anymore.
“I’m going to- I’m-” Azriel panted, thrashing his head side to side as if he could stop himself. Eris hissed and doubled his efforts, hand twisting and tightening on Azriel’s cock, pulling a leg up to plant his foot in the bed to allow him to put even more power into pounding him.
“Fuck, Eris!” Azriel gasped as he came so hard his vision blacked out, cum splattering Eris’s chest and his own. At the sound of his name coming from the Shadowsinger Eris came hard, hips jerking with every spurt. When he was finally spent, he collapsed on top of Azriel, careful to move his hands behind his head and not on his wings. Azriel lazily put his hands on Eris’s back, a satisfied shudder rolling over him as he felt his cock slip out of him, followed by the gush of his cum.
For a while, they lay in the post-orgasm haze, reality not yet returning to them. Right now, they weren’t Eris the Autumn Prince and Azriel the Shadowsinger, they just…were. They stared at each other, Eris running a finger absentmindedly over Azriel’s jaw. After a while Azriel sat up, to move his wings out the way so they could lay on their sides facing each other. Eris laid back down with a contented sigh as he looked over Azriel’s wings, reaching out and tapping the taloned tip before resting his hand on Azriel’s hip, splaying his hand out over the dark skin.
“Do you still want to kill me?” Eris asked softly, twisting his lips in an attempt not to smile. Azriel smiled before the crushing weight of the real world, and what had just happened and who it happened with, slammed into him. He jerked back and sat up suddenly.
“I didn’t-” Eris started as he watched Azriel launch out of the bed and search for his discarded clothes, not attempting to keep the devastation off his face.
“Azriel, please, stay a bit-” he started again, moving up onto his knees to make his way to the end of the bed.
“If anything, I want to kill you more.” Azriel turned and snarled before he could stop himself. It wasn’t true. He felt oily guilt slide through his stomach as he watched his words land like a physical blow, Eris flinching slightly, hurt glistening in his beautiful eyes before the cold mask of the heir slipped back over his face.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone how hard you came for me.” He sneered, settling himself back propped up against the pillows. With a wave of his hand a cigarette appeared between his fingers, and an ashtray on the bed next to him. He stretched his long legs out casually, not hiding an inch of his freckled body, still covered in both their release.
“If you could do me a favour though, do inform Nesta Archeron of my prowess and send her my way. I’m certain she can keep a secret.” He drawled, lighting his cigarette with his own flame, resting one arm along the headboard. Azriel froze for a moment and stared at Eris confused. The prince scoffed and tapped his ash.
“Oh, I like females just as much as males. I’ll enjoying fucking her tight little cunt just as much as I enjoyed fucking you.” He glared at the Illyrian, eyes flicking to his wings again.
“Probably even more, I don’t usually stoop so low as to fuck lesser fae.” Eris couldn’t stop, he wanted Azriel to feel as hurt as he did, and knew all the places to plant the low blows he was hurling.
“Get out, Shadowsinger.” He snapped finally, snarling when Azriel didn’t leave and just stared at him with that unreadable face. He took a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out irritatedly.
“Get out!” He bellowed, launching to his knees, eyes blazing. Azriel’s eyes widened for a moment before his shadows enveloped him and he disappeared. Eris collapsed back to the bed and pressed his palms to his eyes. What was it going to take for Azriel’s side of the bond to snap?
The night is young and beautiful, but Azriel has a mission. A cruel threat looms large over the city, and he must team up with an unlikely ally to defeat it.
Also, they are um…both cats in this…
I worked so hard on this fic.
Cute photos of cats as my fancast for this fic from pintrest.
🐈🐈⬛ Enjoy the nonsense below at the A03 link, or read a snippit to catch the vibe. I'm 100% serious about this. I wrote 4,500 words of cat Azris. No warnings apply, though there's a bit where it gets really hairy for our sweet kittens . Even with the stress, this is pure fluff (because they are fluffly little cats )🐈🐈⬛
Catriz - NinaTheCowgirl - A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas [Archive of Our Own]
It was a beautiful, hot summer’s night, and Azriel was stuck inside, again. Outside, the stars across Velaris glittered, like little pinpricks in the sky. Streetlamps were glowing, and wind carried the late night chatter between friends. The possibilities of the night were endless.
The window on the top floor of the Night household was slightly ajar, and for the last ten minutes Azriel had been trying to figure out a way he could use this opportunity for his advantage. He was on the carpet floor, poised, looking for the ideal opening – a jump to the boxes on the left, then a climbing of the dresser, then a scrambling at the wall, and then – window. He took a deep breath, wiggled a little for the perfect position, and then - jumped. Excellent. He landed with grace, elegance, a faultless leap. Second jump – onto the dresser. He slipped a little, his paw catching on the shiny wood. A little tetter on the edge, but he made it, he recovered. He looked around - quick.
Ok. No one saw it. He was fine. It was ok. All good. Recovered.
Final phase of the operation. He scrambled up the wall, paws outstretched, managed to hook himself onto the windowsill. He pulled himself up, so perfect, so elegant, absolutely impeccable. The window was in front of him, the little crack between the townhouse and the beautiful outside. Azriel slotted his paw into the gap and started to push. He only needed to get his little head through, the rest of him would move like liquid. Just a bit more, a little push, just a little -
“Azzy!” A shout came. Azriel looked behind him. If cats could swear, you’d best believe every single obscenity would have been coming out his mouth at that very moment.
“Naughty little shadow!” Feyre walked over, and scooped Azriel up, and pulling him close to her chest “What are you doing my sweet boy?”
He struggled, pushing at her, but she held on tight, saying how beautiful and sweet he was. Azril did not care– it was a trap. She would take him downstairs, take away his freedom, and then call him a cutie-pie all while stripping him of his only chance at the outside world. And Azriel would not stand for this treatment any longer, no sir he would not. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He swiped at Feyre, claws out. She shrieked, and her grip loosened. He scrambled again, and she was holding on, and he swiped and then – he was out of her grip. He was on the floor again, and she was reaching down to grab him, but Azriel was too fast. Jump to the box, then the dresser, no time to worry about the little slip, scramble up the wall, and then forcing his way through the gap in the window.
“Azriel!” Feyre shouted, but it was no use – he was out. Out in the hot sticky night. And Caldron, if the air didn’t smell good. He slipped onto the roof tiles, and glanced behind himself. Feyre was scowling. She had opened the window and was trying to coax him back inside. Azriel sat, just out of reach, tail flicking. She fished around in her pockets and her hand extended again, something resting on her palm. The wind carried the scent. Oh. What a clever woman she was. His favourite, the little chicken treats, the ones that came in the yellow packet. Crispy on the outside, pillow soft on the inside – no, he must concentrate, he could not be dissuaded from his mission. Even if they did smell so delicious, surely one couldn’t hurt… Feyre shook her outstretched hand, and Azriel found himself leaning forward, then a bit more, gods just a little bite -
“Come on azzy-cat, come here. It’s ok, sweet baby.” She said in a sing-song voice. “Come back inside”
It was this last statement that shook him out of his stupidity. He couldn't. He couldn't have the treats. His freedom. His mission. That was more important. Feyre’s sweet face turned into a scowl, and she tried for a sterner approach.
“Azriel. Az. Get back inside. Now.”
Azriel meowed a soft goodbye, and then turned on his paws, jumping off their rooftop and onto the next, into the night. Feyre yelled behind him. He wished he could tell her not to worry – he didn't like seeing her upset. But this was necessary.
He would be back by sunrise. As long as the mission was successful.
Welcome to the home of the Azriel Shadowsinger and Eris Vanserra ship (Azris) fic milestone celebrations!
On March 24th, 2026, the 1,000th work was posted to the Azriel/Eris Vanserra relationship tag on AO3!
Over the next couple of days, we will be rolling out Tumblr activities and games to celebrate the milestone and spread the love!
In fanfic tradition, enjoy a short fic about our favorite pair celebrating!
Have an idea for an Azris fic to celebrate the milestone? We'd love to see it - tag us here at @azrisversary!
Thank you to @mistandmemories for the amazing art celebrating the milestone!
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Teen and Up | 1.6k words | Complete | Absolute Fluff
The Milestone
Prologue
It started quietly and spontaneously. A small group of ladies in the Day Court, after witnessing Azriel save Eris from an assassination attempt at a formal event, started sharing theories about potential feelings between the Shadowsinger and the Autumn Court noble.
The theories turned into stories—written down and shared amongst the ladies. Once there were enough, one of the Ladies published the stories in a compendium to share amongst themselves… and a few friends.
From there, it didn't take long before the volume of stories was borrowed and shared amongst the ladies of other Courts. More clubs sprang up in various Noble houses , where the ladies—and perhaps even a few gentlemales—formed their own theories. Debates around the Autumn's Court heir's relationship sprang up, and other popular eligible fae found themselves the center of new speculation.
More stories were authored. A second and third volume went to the printers, and new books made the rounds. Staff began to secretly read the books as the ladies left them on bedside tables and in their libraries. Societies for the newly coined craft, "faefiction" emerged in assembly halls and local tavern event rooms. Common fae wrote stories and pinned them up on community message boards, which soon had its own section for shareable fiction, separate from public notices and job postings.
Even merchants took an interest in faefiction. Some of them hired local scribes to make copies of the stories at each village stop, and stories traveled the merchant routes from village to village. Over time, certain popular stories developed sequels and related story arcs, and faefiction reading societies grew large enough that groups broke off to focus on specific hopeful relationships. Some societies that supported potential alliances, or "Liances", grew in influence and wrote treatises explaining why their Liance would be more likely than others. Over time, fashions, like pins and colored ribbons on jackets and bodices, indicated a fae's preferred Liance pairing in public.
As one could expect, the Day Court librarians and archivists took notice of this new cultural phenomenon. As did their High Lord, Helion, an avid collector of the noble ladies' yearly volumes. After reading the popular versions collected by local scribes, he decided to fund a wing of the Solaris Library to collect and catalogue all forms of faefiction, from the formal books to the scribbled notes tacked to the message boards and tavern walls.
Scribes in the Day Court began contributing their time and talent to categorizing the works, counting them, and tracking the progress and evolution of Liances, including their popularity and trends. Several archivists contributed to the collection, finding ways to use their creative energies without requiring academic reviews for publication. The faefiction wing earned a reputation amongst the scribes as an Archive of their Own…
Present Day
"Did Nesta say why we are expected in the Night Court unexpectedly tonight?" Eris asked, frowning, before he glanced over at Azriel dressing for a visit to the House of Wind. He walked over to collect the envelope, made from heavy cream paper, which sat on the bed next Azriel.
Lacing up shining knee-high black boots—a gift from Eris on their twentieth anniversary, where Azriel said "yes" to moving to Autumn —Azriel smiled wryly. "When does Nesta ever explain herself?" he asked.
Eris chuckled and opened the invitation, where Nesta's neat handwriting greeted him.
Again, he frowned and looked up. "What on earth is 'smart casual dress'?"
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After Eris winnowed them to the foot of the mountain where the House of Wind sat carved, Azriel grinned and gathered Eris into his arms. Snuggling into the emrace of his lover, Eris tightened his hold around Azriel's neck, and massive wings boomed as Azriel surged upwards in flight. The ground fell away beneath them, receding further and further away, until Velaris became a tapestry of twinkling lights in the dusk.
Eris smiled.
He never tired of the Shadowsinger taking him flying, and took advantage of any excuse to see the different Courts from the air.
They landed on the platform just outside the dining room, where Eris straightened his jacket and hair before taking Azriel's proffered hand. Together, they walked into the House of Wind—to find a small party of familiar fae.
Rhysand and Feyre, both impeccably dressed; Helion and Eris's mother, the new Lady of Day; Nesta and Cassian, who wore matching, greeting smiles; and Thesan and his lover, Cyrus. Azriel and Eris had formed close ties with the latter over the years.
Eris smirked and quipped as they approached, "This is an interesting attendee list, Nesta. Trying for a Solar Court High Lord's meeting?"
Nesta, in a tunic and loose pants in dusky lavender with silver embroidery accents, shrugged elegantly.
Eris marveled at how sophisticated the eldest Archeron looked in the simplest of outfits (unlike her mate, who somehow always seemed to have flight-hair). Her voice, a blend of husky and melodious, she greeted them, "Welcome to our intimate party, Eris, Azriel." She nodded to them each in turn. "We wanted to celebrate a milestone that has come to our attention from the illustrious Helion."
"Milestone?" Azriel folded his arms and raised a brow. "Odd. I can't think of any historical anniversaries today," he ventured, looking thoughtful.
Eris had to stifle a laugh, enjoying his lover's discomfiture; it wasn't often the former Night Court Spymaster found himself out of the loop of information.
"Oh, but it is an auspicious day," Helion's bass rumbled, echoing off the stone walls of the dining room. "My archivists tallied the number twice to be sure."
The number?
The Day Court High Lord rubbed his hands in glee as he surveyed the room, clad in a white linen tunic with the laces in the front completely undone, and matching loose linen pants. Eris supposed that even the Day Court noble had to set aside his chiton when visiting colder climes.
Interest piqued, as Eris loved hearing about literary trivia, he leaned forward with his hands braced on the polished ebony table. "Tell us more," he suggested with a genuine smile of delight.
Eris felt the power of the House of Wind wash over the room, and a cake appeared in the middle of the table. The icing, smooth and swirled, rose up the sides in a variegated pattern of colors; every color of the rainbow before ending in a rosy pink at the top. Placed prominently in the icing sat two sculpted unlit candles, shaped in the Prythian shorthand for 1,000.
The party looked at the cake. Then all eyes shifted to Helion, whose grin lit up the room in tandem with the leakage of his Day powers, his excitement all but palpable. Bouncing on the balls of his sandaled feet (Eris sighed mentally, you could take the High Lord out of the Day Court, but not the Day Court out of the High Lord), he began, "You all have heard of my specialized wing archiving the Prythian phenomenon known as faefiction, in the Prythian Athenaeum archives, yes?"
Nesta snorted with laughter. "Of course we have, Helion. Based on your enthusiasm, I expect a significant number of works have been written by your hand."
Helion winked. "An author never tells their pseudonym, or their favored Liances, Ness."
Cassian laughed and wrapped an arm around Nesta's waist. "Oh, I can relate to that," he said, tipping a grin to Helion. "I am sworn to secrecy as well."
Nesta blushed but did not waver her gaze from the Day Court leader.
Rhysand sniffed, "I don't know why there is so much fuss over the faefiction fad." He slipped his hands into his pockets, and Feyre patted his arm.
Eris couldn't resist poking at the Night Court High Lord. "That's because you are sore that the fad started after you and Feyre mated, which means you are not paired with as many potential Liances… as you are a sure thing and all that."
Rhysand leveled a flat look at Eris, who cocked his hip out and folded his arms . "And," Eris added, grinning, "I'm not sure you can call something that has been going on for decades a fad, Rhysand."
Violet-tinged blue eyes rolled at that remark, and Rhysand shifted his weight to begin ignoring the Autumn contingent.
Azriel's eyes softened as he looked over at Eris, before focusing back on Helion, who now seemed to be vibrating with excitement. "So what is this all about?"
Helion declared, "Well, Azriel, you and Eris are one of the most interesting Liances in Prythian." He turned to Eris with a wink. "And as such have just passed 1,000 unique stories about your relationship."
Eris blinked, then glanced at Azriel, who seemed equally stunned. "One… thousand stories that…"
Helion laughed, "Yes, one thousand stories, written by the fae of Prythian, speculating about you two as a couple, both starting your relationship, and your life as an established partnership."
Eris shook his head in disbelief. When the fad started, he and Azriel could not imagine a future together. How had so many amateur authors come up with a path to happiness that took Azriel and Eris centuries to figure out?
He felt Azriel's arm slide around his waist, and he grinned at the heavy-lashed hazel eyes looking at him with adoration. He supposed his expression looked just as besotted, but he just didn't care. Right on cue, the shadows wrapped around them so they could share a kiss while the fae in the room cried bawdy "oooo"s to disappointed "awwws" at being denied the view. When they broke apart, the shadows retreated back behind Azriel's wings, except one, which rushed out to tweak Cassian's ear before joining its brethren. Eris smirked, lifted a languid hand, and lit the candles on the cake.
When they later lifted the cake together to blow out the candles in celebration, he made a vow, to honor the authors of his true relationship, his Liance, by living and loving his partner Azriel for the centuries of life they had to come.
And perhaps celebrate many more milestones in their Liance in the future.
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This work is loosely inspired by the antics of the fae-followers in the fanfic, The Chairs, Chapters 51 - 53.
Thank you to @mistandmemories for workshopping this idea, and the amazing collaboration and beta-read!
A little short story written for a 5-word prompt game. Words at the bottom of the message.
1080 words | Mature (same level as ACOTAR books) | M/M Azris
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Azriel leaned back on the outside wall of the House of Wind, arms crossed and wings tight to conserve heat. Evening darkened the sky over Velaris, welcoming the stars as they appeared one by one, twinkling in benediction of the Night Court.
Unlike the sky above, Azriel's day had been less than stellar. He dropped his head back on the wall with a low thunk and blew out a long breath, the moon turning it silver in the chill.
Moans came to a crescendo in the dining room on the other side of the wall. He'd come home to relax and unwind to find Nesta spread out on the dining room table, naked except for a band of bunched clothing under her breasts and above her navel. Cassian was sitting at the table, hands supporting her lifted thighs and feasting as if it were his last meal. When Azriel stopped short just inside the doors, Cassian hadn't even lifted his head, just opened his eyes and winked, keeping up his ministrations.
Azriel had been outside for a quarter of an hour, trying to figure out what to do next. The wards kept fae from winnowing inside the House of Wind, and while his shadows could help him slip by unseen, they couldn't keep him from seeing.
Besides, Rhysand was right; the olfactory experience of the mountainside house was pervasive. Because Nesta and Cassian kept at each other day and night, the entire domicile reeked of sex.
Not that his High Lord should talk. Azriel's guest suite at the River House presented the same hazards. The last two times the Spymaster visited, Rhysand and Feyre started their mating rituals as soon as Nyx fell asleep. Azriel chuckled; Nyx could sleep through Prythian's destruction, which helped the child survive their parents' escapades.
He'd give his High Lord this; his stamina was impressive. Feyre's siren calls of pleasure reverberated in the hallways of the River House for hours each night.
He could go to Rita's, but he wasn't in the mood for the music, dancing, drinking, and hunting for short-term gratification that a night at the establishment promised. Going to Rita's and attempting to drink alone would be a trial of closed body posture and snubbing advances of pretty fae of all genders that would feel more exhausting than a night truly alone.
Azriel chewed his bottom lip, considering the last available haven on his list. He tried not to make it a habit; the more he visited, the more likely he'd get caught.
Was it worth it?
He gathered his shadows, walked to the edge of the balcony, and took flight. Clearing the wards, he shadow-walked away.
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After landing in the leaf litter in the forest behind the kennels, Azriel slipped into the shadowed corner just inside the doors. Shadows wrapped him tightly, muffling the sounds of his breathing, careful steps, and muting his scent. Inside, a sea of burnished silver fur rose and fell with the breaths and movements of the smokehounds as they settled down for the night. Azriel took stock; the water and food bowls had been filled for the night, which relieved him; Eris would not be coming back that evening.
He entered the pen, still shadowed, and waited. Slowly, hounds got up and either lay back down with their noses facing away or sat with their backs to him. Only the younger hounds gave away the game with small thumps of tails, or wiggling backsides as they looked at everything except the hidden Spymaster.
After a few moments, Azriel chuckled and let the shadows fall away. The smokehounds responded to the signal by silently turning and surrounding him, tails wagging furiously. Azriel reached into his leathers and pulled out a pouch of treats, and began handing them out, giving each hound special attention.
"Hello, Shade, such a good girl showing the pups how to behave. Little Myst, you are no longer so little. Who is getting a little bit chonky? You are! Here's an extra treat. Hello Cinder. Yes, you tried so hard to stay still. We will work on that the next time I see you. Vesper, you are looking quite handsome this evening! Your coat is so soft, boy…" His quiet baritone didn't travel much further than the ears of each hound he scratched.
After each hound had their treat and praises, he stood, content. Every time he visited Eris's smokehounds, he felt more centered and relaxed. However, he courted danger of discovery every time he visited. "Thank you, dear puppers," he crooned, "I'll head to the roost. You behave now, and settle down to sleep, yes?"
With a final scritch around the matriarch hound's neck, he stepped quietly out and shadow-walked to his favorite sturdy tree overlooking the back of Forest House, where he could see into the bedrooms of the Vanserra family. All windows remained dark, however, so he settled onto a broad branch, leaned against the trunk, and dozed.
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The glamour slid down the fae's body like water, revealing the ember-colored hair and immaculate green waistcoat of Eris Vanserra. He sat across from the pen of his hounds, who greeted his reemergence with lolling tongues out of doggy grins and wagging tails. His expression warred between amusement and exasperation.
"Mother above," he muttered, smirk disbelieving, "he's trained the hounds to ignore him until he bribes them!" Amber eyes roved over the happy smokehounds with love and resignation. "How will I ever train you all to find him again?"
He stepped into the pen, and gave pets and attention, secretly pleased that Azriel liked his smokehounds and treated them well. It had nothing to do with the Spymaster's outwitting him with his trick.
He frowned at a female smokehound with charcoal fur with silver tips, and ran a hand down her flank. "You are getting a little fluffy, Myst. Perhaps it's time you became my partner on the daily rounds?" Myst licked his hand, then turned to curl up in her bed with a small huff.
Eris winnowed back to his bedroom, knowing that somewhere on the property was a meddling bat. He didn't want Azriel to know he'd discovered his dirty little secret.
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A/N: For those of you who are reading Project Codename: Metamorphosis, yes, this is inspired by a similar scene. After writing it and thinking about it, the specific reasons for Azriel bribing the hounds made a little more sense. ;)
Words for the game: snub, siren, burnish, olfactory, chonky
