this is THE dedicated blog for @g00seg1rl's acotar gift exchange 2025! 🪿
so far, we have:
~ Azris
~ Elucien
~ Amren/Nesta
all in one fic bundle, with a cute winter solstice crossover chapter right at the end.
@g00seg1rl has been kind enough to give all the birdies here at ASS HQ some free reign over what gets included, but has specific brownie points for smut, fluff and funnies, so we'll see what we can do ;)
keep your eyes peeled for any updates, and thank you to @acotargiftexchange and their wonderful mods for organising the event!
this is part one of the beautiful, wonderful, magical @g00seg1rl's acotar secret santa gift by yours truly, @theacotarsecretsantahq, or, as i have so lovingly dubbed myself, goosie's ASS 🪿! this was written for the @acotargiftexchange
i am so excited for you to read this, goosie! i decided on posting azris first, since that's what you requested first way back when, but the idea is that you'll be able to read any of the first three parts of this four parter fic in any order :) i don't write a lot of smut so flexing my horny muscles for this gift was so fun! it's also full of fluff, and i am incapable of not writing a bit of angst here and there, but it's hopefully light-hearted enough and par for the course for azris especially. i hope i've done the loverboys to your liking here <3
without further ado...
Azriel, dazed by too much firewhiskey from the night before and one of the best dreams of his life, is confused to find himself alone in Eris' bed this morning. He goes off to find him. They talk about the Solstice party tomorrow. Then Eris sucks his cock. He's had worse days. [3.3k words]
warnings: the horniest males in Prythian, SMUT, Eris is high lord of the autumn court and of sucking dick, sad Eris, tooth-aching fluff, one of Eris' horrible brothers, traumatising the hounds, swearing, if you think i've missed something, lmk!
Series Masterlist (under construction) | goosie's beautiful blog | the acotar gift exchange blog | this fic on ao3
⨯⨯⨯
Azriel woke up, perhaps not unusually, hard, and warm, and with the scent of Eris’ bedsheets clinging to his skin.
He’d been dreaming about fucking him very slowly, very deeply, after having already made him come so hard that he was delightfully brainless, grabbing blindly at the headboard, and drooling onto the pillow. Sometimes gasping out his name. Swearing. Making that little noise he did when he was about to climax again, right at the back of his throat. Something Az would call a whimper, if Eris wouldn’t get so sour about it.
His cock ached from being so unattended. As he came to, dazed and hazy in the head from the night before, his hand twitched to touch. He wished Eris would notice and roll over and give him his pretty mouth.
But he couldn’t, because Azriel also woke up alone.
He didn’t so much as bolt out of bed as fall. Splitting, mind-belting pain shot across his temples. Firewhiskey. Eris, pouring them glasses and glasses of it, comfortably drinking him under the table, then coaxing him to bed with promises of a slow morning together and hands trailing over his wings.
The perfect lie, Azriel had realised.
His shadows barely have time to settle about his shoulders before he grits out, Find him, and they scatter.
He ignores the errant want racketing over his skin in favour of pulling open the wardrobe. Two empty coathangers. Shirt and jacket. A pair of trousers is gone from the dresser. He glances at where Eris had left his boots, neatly paired by the door, to find them gone. Fuck. In an instant, his head clears.
He throws on a pair of trousers—his, hooked up from the floor where he’d left them beside the bed—and a shirt—Eris’, because it has those fiddly sleeves they adore in Autumn for the decorum of undressing as slowly as possible, and recently modified to fit someone with wings—before he pulls on shoes and has to tuck in his wings to fit through the doorframe of the room.
The servants he passes in the corridor skirt around him, eyeing the few shadows still simmering nervously around his shoulders, but he pays them no mind as he ducks his head into Eris’ study. Nothing. The library is empty. So too the music room, the solar and the training ring (bar the Captain of Eris’ guard, running through drills).
When he stalks into the dining room, he’s greeted only by the startled but smug, bemused face of one of Eris’ brothers. Cyrus. Fourth eldest. More interested in the financial aspects of his Court, and spends most of his time either reading and modifying reports, or torturing puppies for kicks. He recalls Mor once spilt a whole glass of wine on him from a balcony at an official gathering. Eris had hidden a laugh behind a well-timed sip of liquor.
He pauses his latest endeavour into bills or bloodletting to turn his attention to him. Scans him up and down. Arches a brow.
“Looking for someone?” he asks mildly, setting down his teacup delicately in his saucer, but not quite managing to meet his eye as he does. His gaze lingers on his wings, and Azriel fights the urge to snarl. “I haven’t seen him, before you ask…” A wry smirk. “...or threaten the dungeons. He’s probably getting cold feet…”
A shadow curls against his ear.
Found him.
They winnow him away before Az can tell Cyrus the maid spits in his tea, and it’s probably for the best. Good material to embarrass Eris’ brothers comes rarely these days, and he’d rather make him pale in front of a crowd, at least.
He lands on soft ground, leaves crunching beneath his feet, in one of the forests which dot the Court. Stilled, he listens. Waits. Then he hears it.
Running water and splashing.
A gentle murmur. “No shaking. I mean it. Oh, don’t look at me like that.”
He follows it, as though pulled by some invisible string, and clears the treeline.
By a brook, running through the middle of the copse of poplars, there he is. He’s sitting with his back turned to him, his hair loose down his back and glinting with bronzes in the late-morning sun, legs stretched out in front of him on the ground. In the water, two of the hounds—Astra and Clementine, if Az were to guess—are playing with each other. Tousling and chasing, flicking water around and leaving trails of smoke in their wake. One of his hands rests beside him, his fingers tapping a steady, thudding rhythm.
For a moment, Azriel just takes in the sight.
Out in the forests, he has always thought Eris is most at home. He can posture in a politician's study and tie a male in knots with only the words on his lips all he likes, and why wouldn’t he when he is so accomplished at it, but he is truly, quietly radiant here. A son of his Court, through and through. Some warm, but oddly hollow, feeling pangs through his chest at the idea.
The tapping of Eris’ fingers stops.
“I know you’re there, Azriel.”
He tilts his head just a fraction, so he can eye him over his shoulder.
“I thought you were supposed to be stealthy.”
Az huffs a laugh. It comes out shakier than he’d have liked. “It doesn’t seem to work on you,” he says.
Eris hums and turns away.
Az just goes to sit next to him, cross-legged on the dry leaves and comfortable enough with his wings splayed out, one curled tentatively around him, but not close enough to crowd. For a little while, they watch the dogs, and that’s all.
He can wait like this for a long time, letting Eris work through exactly how to word what he wants to say. When he has it straight in his head, he’ll start talking. There’s no need to fill the silence, nor any need to give anything they aren’t ready for. He knows he doesn’t have to prompt him into the conversation they should have.
The move closer is what lets him know Eris is going to open his mouth. How he catches the muscle in his jaw tick. How he takes a breath deeper than necessary.
He frowns.
“I’m sorry I let you wake up alone.”
He’s still watching the dogs.
“It wasn’t the nicest feeling,” Azriel says.
He hated it, actually. Always, he hates it when Eris does this. He is prone to disappearing before something important, before dinners and gatherings to clear his head. But Az will always come to find him.
Eris swallows thickly. Drops his head to Az’s shoulder.
“Forgive me,” he says quietly.
When Eris seeks out his hand, Az draws his wing tighter around him and lets his thumb brush over the uneven skin there without flinching. He skims over the ring on his finger. Golden and engraved, yes, but simple. A gift with no expectation, and one Az had worn around his neck before he could let himself have it on his hand. Sometimes he still does, on missions or dangerous exploits. He would be devastated to lose it.
Azriel squeezes Eris’ hand as he interlocks their fingers. “You’re forgiven,” he replies softly, then, slyly, “even though you left me hard without any way to satisfy myself.”
Ah, there it is. Eris scoffs, and Azriel relaxes a fraction when he finally looks up at him.
“And here I was thinking we were having a serious moment,” he drawls, “but you and your cock—”
“—which you can’t live without—”
His whole face flushes red. “We are not talking about this again.”
Az snickers. “You said it.” He presses a kiss to Eris’ temple, small smile still on his face.
Silence falls again, but it’s less heavy now. The dogs have tired each other out and are sitting at the bank, dripping wet and panting, tails wagging. One of them snaps her jaw at a shadow which had got too curious for its own good. It dissipates, then reappears at his shoulder, hissing at them. Then the others, content to hide beneath his wings, start to simmer.
Eris exhales.
“Tomorrow is bothering me more than I’d care to admit,” he says sharply, almost like he can’t believe he’s hearing himself speak the words.
Tomorrow is the Solstice party in Velaris with everyone. All of his family, including Elain and Lucien, back from their trip, even Nesta if she can stomach being in the same room as Amren, will be there. Eris, most importantly, too, but not if it’s going to be like this. Az would rather spend the Solstice here, sat at the bank of a brook, with Eris curled against him, than he would make him endure something he’ll hate for his sake. The gods know he’s had enough of that.
“We don’t have to go,” he tells him. “You know that.”
“Of course we do,” he fires back, “you love holidays. I’m not going to take that from you.”
Damn him, his heart stutters in his chest.
“Eris—”
“We’re going,” he says firmly, “as unfortunate as your brothers might find that.”
There is nothing in this world Azriel would like more for his two worlds to collide. For Cassian to be able to look Eris dead in the eye and treat him fairly, for Rhys to see him as something more than a political rival and something better than his father.
It’s… wishful thinking.
But instead of saying any of that, Az squeezes his hand again. “It doesn’t matter what they think.”
The brook batters the rocks at its bed.
A moment passes.
Two.
One of the hounds lies down, and the other joins her.
“No,” Eris says, “it doesn’t.”
Azriel has warned them, warned everyone, that he and Eris will leave as soon as someone comments anything, with no preamble and no pleading to have them stay. I won’t have it, he’d snapped in Rhys’ office, eyeing each of them and daring them to object. No one did. Not even Mor.
Azriel has made it very clear to them what Eris means to him.
They don’t understand; they’ve never seen Eris like this. Never known him tender or vulnerable or contemplative, and they most likely never will. Tomorrow, he’ll be what they expect. Arrogant, sneering, and tolerable only because he has to be. Only Az gets him as he is.
He shifts, pulls his legs in then stretches back out languidly, a hitched sound catching in his throat, shuffling so he can lie his head on Az’s thigh, almost in his lap, and tugs his hand to his chest. Happily, Azriel lets him.
Carefully, he casts his gaze back up at him.
“What were you dreaming about?” he asks, more aloof than he probably is. No doubt, Az had been hard and muttering dirty things under his breath in his sleep when Eris left him that morning, drenching them both in the scent of sweet arousal and a certain amount of desperation—that Eris happens to enjoy.
The question is a distraction of the most obvious kind. If it will get him to smile, Az will play along; talking can come as soon as Eris does.
“Lots of things,” Az replies, his tone light and non-committal. He leans back and—
“Like what?” Eris presses.
Predictable. He gets off on hearing about his fantasies. Puts a lot of effort into making them a reality. Azriel gets off on telling him.
“There was a headboard,” he says. “You were very, very loud, and you were begging me for it like a bitch in heat. So—” a shit-eating grin— “the usual.” With an incredulous kind of laugh, Eris rolls his eyes, but that delightful blush high on his cheekbones is back. Such a gorgeous face. His free hand comes to toy with the stray strands of his hair.
Az voice dips.
“You were so coy.” He watches attentively as Eris’ pupils blow out a little. “You teased me all night and I dragged you out of whatever party we were at to have you pressed in that little alcove by the orchards. You remember it?” That earns him a heated glare. They’ve defiled that poor alcove more than any other place in the House outside of Eris’ chambers. How could he ever forget? “Then, I carried you to bed because you couldn’t walk and had you again, and again, and again, until all you could think to do was scream my name.”
Eris tuts. “You do always last longer in your head.” Az wonders if he knows how breathy he sounds, or how horny that makes him.
“Is that a challenge?” he asks.
“Maybe.”
“Hm, maybe.” The finger he’d had twirling the loose strands of Eris’ hair by his cheek runs along his jawline. “You know what else I was dreaming about?” he asks lowly, catching that deliciously glazed look in Eris’ eye as he shifts again, perhaps to relieve himself of the growing tightness at his crotch. Az can scent it, that wonderfully subtle, burgeoning, burning arousal.
“Tell me,” Eris says, blinking up at him.
Az pulls Eris’ chin up just enough that it surely can’t quite be comfortable.
He smiles pleasantly.
Squeezes his hand.
“Your pretty, pretty mouth.”
It happens as though they’d planned it, how easily Eris lets go, turns and crawls towards him, knees rustling the leaves on the ground. He grips the top of his thigh to yank Az’s hips to his—fuck—! The sweetest contact of Eris nuzzling his face against the very thin fabric of these stupid, in-the-way trousers makes Azriel suck in a breath and card his hand through Eris’ hair, only to tug him away when he gets hard enough to itch for real friction.
“I should make you beg for it,” he hisses. On his knees for him, he’s already halfway there.
He shakes his head. “Don’t.” He pushes against Az’s hand and goes to fiddle with his waistband. His shadows creep down his forearms, ready to restrain, but Az stops them, waiting for what he knows is coming right… “Please, Az, don’t.”
“Maybe,” he purrs.
His name grinds out of Eris’ mouth, half-pleading and half-pissed off, exactly how it should be, and gods if it isn’t the best thing he’s ever heard. Truly, he’s powerless to stop his grip in his hair loosening, gentling to a caress that has him keening. He barely has time to think before Eris is fiddling with the ties at his crotch and pulling his waistband off his hips just enough to expose him.
The first kitten lick to the tip of his cock is a cruel tease and Eris bats his fucking eyelashes at him while he does it, knowing that’s all it takes to make him fully hard. That all he needs is to see his tongue swipe at the pearl of pre-cum at the head and for him to moan just like that only from the taste.
Wings splayed out behind him and twitching from the pleasure that shoots straight up his spine, Azriel has to lean back to give Eris more room. Greedily, he takes it, wrapping his lips around the head and—
“Fuck, Eris…”
He feels him smile into the bob of his head, his tongue curled along the underside of his cock which makes him fight rolling his hips into his mouth. Instead, Az guides him down, pushing him take more and more like he knows he can. He feels it when he swallows and tries to relax his throat until his nose is pressed against the trimmed hair at the base of his dick, when he groans and the vibrations make Azriel tighten his hand into a fist as his head falls back.
They work into a rhythm, Az picking up the slack where Eris falters, and he doesn’t falter much, with timed movement of hips. Enough to send shudders through his whole body, but not enough to hurt or bruise. Only when Eris start to grind his own hips does Az snap his calf against his backside, stopping him from giving himself any relief.
“None of that,” he grits out.
Az wants him to come untouched in his breeches, right here, on the autumn leaves by the brook.
Eris, it seems, wants Az to come in his mouth.
He can feel the tension coiling in his stomach with every pass of Eris’ mouth, but it twists when his hand leaves it white-knuckled grasp on the hem of his shirt to play with his balls and oh he’s so close…
“Keep going,” he pants, stroking at the back of Eris’ head wherever he can. He has to… fuck, no, he has… shit… he has to see. With everything he can spare, Az tips his chin down so he can watch.
He does it like he’s made for it, made for him and only him. Eris knows exactly how to tip him over the edge, but Az knows what’ll do it for him.
“You’re so good for me, Eris,” he coos, “so pretty, so perfect, aren’t you?”
And Eris fucking whines, keens, breaks. Az’s wings twitch and tighten. His shadows fizzle. He gasps. Comes so hard down Eris’ throat he might as well be in a different universe. Barely manages to catch the sight of him swallowing everything he gives him, but, by the gods, he does, doesn’t he? Takes it all and pulls off him with a heinously lewd smack, then rests his head against Az’s thigh, chest heaving.
Az reaches for him and tugs him up, settles him in his lap, and crashes his lips against his. Eris’ half-lidded eyes widen, then shut as his tongue sweeps into his mouth, the taste of his spend still lingering. They barely pull apart before Az latches onto Eris’ neck, sucking a bruise into the tender skin big enough that everyone will notice tomorrow and that’s just what he wants. For everyone to know he’s unashamedly his and his alone.
Eris laughs as Az pulls at his shirt. “We’re not doing this on the dirty ground in front of the hounds,” he breathes out, as Az pointedly ignores him. The hounds will find their own way back. “And,” he continues, “I might need a moment.”
Probably. Az can feel the wetness of where he came against his stomach as he grips him impossibly closer. “Want you so bad,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and full of post-climax roughness, against his skin. Gives him another bruise, this one at his collarbone.
The hand that swipes across the top of his wing makes him shake with overstimulation and stop his ministrations. Eris uses his opportunity.
“You can have me,” he says, his lips pressed against Az’s ear, “in bed. Where there’s a headboard for you to dream of again tonight. Sound acceptable for you, you silly bat?”
On anyone else’s tongue, bat would make him bristle, but the way Eris says it always makes him soft.
“Fine,” he relents, only because the headboard does sound appealing.
Az shifts his hold so he can stand and keep Eris wrapped around him. If his hand finds its way to his ass, that’s mere coincidence, just as he’s sure he didn’t mean to squeak at the contact.
To hide the blush on his cheeks, no doubt, Eris presses gentle kisses to his jawline. “We’ll see if you can last, hm?” he teases.
Az glowers. “Asshole.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
Eris purrs a contented chuckle, and Az’s shadows whisk them back to the House.
The Solstice tomorrow might end up being a shitshow, but Azriel couldn't care less right now.
No, right now, he's thinking about Eris' pretty mouth, and Eris' pretty ass, and Eris' pretty hands, grabbing blindly at the headboard.
this is part one of the beautiful, wonderful, magical @g00seg1rl's acotar secret santa gift by yours truly, @theacotarsecretsantahq, or, as i have so lovingly dubbed myself, goosie's ASS 🪿! this was written for the @acotargiftexchange
i am so excited for you to read this, goosie! i decided on posting azris first, since that's what you requested first way back when, but the idea is that you'll be able to read any of the first three parts of this four parter fic in any order :) i don't write a lot of smut so flexing my horny muscles for this gift was so fun! it's also full of fluff, and i am incapable of not writing a bit of angst here and there, but it's hopefully light-hearted enough and par for the course for azris especially. i hope i've done the loverboys to your liking here <3
without further ado...
Azriel, dazed by too much firewhiskey from the night before and one of the best dreams of his life, is confused to find himself alone in Eris' bed this morning. He goes off to find him. They talk about the Solstice party tomorrow. Then Eris sucks his cock. He's had worse days. [3.3k words]
warnings: the horniest males in Prythian, SMUT, Eris is high lord of the autumn court and of sucking dick, sad Eris, tooth-aching fluff, one of Eris' horrible brothers, traumatising the hounds, swearing, if you think i've missed something, lmk!
Series Masterlist (under construction) | goosie's beautiful blog | the acotar gift exchange blog | this fic on ao3
⨯⨯⨯
Azriel woke up, perhaps not unusually, hard, and warm, and with the scent of Eris’ bedsheets clinging to his skin.
He’d been dreaming about fucking him very slowly, very deeply, after having already made him come so hard that he was delightfully brainless, grabbing blindly at the headboard, and drooling onto the pillow. Sometimes gasping out his name. Swearing. Making that little noise he did when he was about to climax again, right at the back of his throat. Something Az would call a whimper, if Eris wouldn’t get so sour about it.
His cock ached from being so unattended. As he came to, dazed and hazy in the head from the night before, his hand twitched to touch. He wished Eris would notice and roll over and give him his pretty mouth.
But he couldn’t, because Azriel also woke up alone.
He didn’t so much as bolt out of bed as fall. Splitting, mind-belting pain shot across his temples. Firewhiskey. Eris, pouring them glasses and glasses of it, comfortably drinking him under the table, then coaxing him to bed with promises of a slow morning together and hands trailing over his wings.
The perfect lie, Azriel had realised.
His shadows barely have time to settle about his shoulders before he grits out, Find him, and they scatter.
He ignores the errant want racketing over his skin in favour of pulling open the wardrobe. Two empty coathangers. Shirt and jacket. A pair of trousers is gone from the dresser. He glances at where Eris had left his boots, neatly paired by the door, to find them gone. Fuck. In an instant, his head clears.
He throws on a pair of trousers—his, hooked up from the floor where he’d left them beside the bed—and a shirt—Eris’, because it has those fiddly sleeves they adore in Autumn for the decorum of undressing as slowly as possible, and recently modified to fit someone with wings—before he pulls on shoes and has to tuck in his wings to fit through the doorframe of the room.
The servants he passes in the corridor skirt around him, eyeing the few shadows still simmering nervously around his shoulders, but he pays them no mind as he ducks his head into Eris’ study. Nothing. The library is empty. So too the music room, the solar and the training ring (bar the Captain of Eris’ guard, running through drills).
When he stalks into the dining room, he’s greeted only by the startled but smug, bemused face of one of Eris’ brothers. Cyrus. Fourth eldest. More interested in the financial aspects of his Court, and spends most of his time either reading and modifying reports, or torturing puppies for kicks. He recalls Mor once spilt a whole glass of wine on him from a balcony at an official gathering. Eris had hidden a laugh behind a well-timed sip of liquor.
He pauses his latest endeavour into bills or bloodletting to turn his attention to him. Scans him up and down. Arches a brow.
“Looking for someone?” he asks mildly, setting down his teacup delicately in his saucer, but not quite managing to meet his eye as he does. His gaze lingers on his wings, and Azriel fights the urge to snarl. “I haven’t seen him, before you ask…” A wry smirk. “...or threaten the dungeons. He’s probably getting cold feet…”
A shadow curls against his ear.
Found him.
They winnow him away before Az can tell Cyrus the maid spits in his tea, and it’s probably for the best. Good material to embarrass Eris’ brothers comes rarely these days, and he’d rather make him pale in front of a crowd, at least.
He lands on soft ground, leaves crunching beneath his feet, in one of the forests which dot the Court. Stilled, he listens. Waits. Then he hears it.
Running water and splashing.
A gentle murmur. “No shaking. I mean it. Oh, don’t look at me like that.”
He follows it, as though pulled by some invisible string, and clears the treeline.
By a brook, running through the middle of the copse of poplars, there he is. He’s sitting with his back turned to him, his hair loose down his back and glinting with bronzes in the late-morning sun, legs stretched out in front of him on the ground. In the water, two of the hounds—Astra and Clementine, if Az were to guess—are playing with each other. Tousling and chasing, flicking water around and leaving trails of smoke in their wake. One of his hands rests beside him, his fingers tapping a steady, thudding rhythm.
For a moment, Azriel just takes in the sight.
Out in the forests, he has always thought Eris is most at home. He can posture in a politician's study and tie a male in knots with only the words on his lips all he likes, and why wouldn’t he when he is so accomplished at it, but he is truly, quietly radiant here. A son of his Court, through and through. Some warm, but oddly hollow, feeling pangs through his chest at the idea.
The tapping of Eris’ fingers stops.
“I know you’re there, Azriel.”
He tilts his head just a fraction, so he can eye him over his shoulder.
“I thought you were supposed to be stealthy.”
Az huffs a laugh. It comes out shakier than he’d have liked. “It doesn’t seem to work on you,” he says.
Eris hums and turns away.
Az just goes to sit next to him, cross-legged on the dry leaves and comfortable enough with his wings splayed out, one curled tentatively around him, but not close enough to crowd. For a little while, they watch the dogs, and that’s all.
He can wait like this for a long time, letting Eris work through exactly how to word what he wants to say. When he has it straight in his head, he’ll start talking. There’s no need to fill the silence, nor any need to give anything they aren’t ready for. He knows he doesn’t have to prompt him into the conversation they should have.
The move closer is what lets him know Eris is going to open his mouth. How he catches the muscle in his jaw tick. How he takes a breath deeper than necessary.
He frowns.
“I’m sorry I let you wake up alone.”
He’s still watching the dogs.
“It wasn’t the nicest feeling,” Azriel says.
He hated it, actually. Always, he hates it when Eris does this. He is prone to disappearing before something important, before dinners and gatherings to clear his head. But Az will always come to find him.
Eris swallows thickly. Drops his head to Az’s shoulder.
“Forgive me,” he says quietly.
When Eris seeks out his hand, Az draws his wing tighter around him and lets his thumb brush over the uneven skin there without flinching. He skims over the ring on his finger. Golden and engraved, yes, but simple. A gift with no expectation, and one Az had worn around his neck before he could let himself have it on his hand. Sometimes he still does, on missions or dangerous exploits. He would be devastated to lose it.
Azriel squeezes Eris’ hand as he interlocks their fingers. “You’re forgiven,” he replies softly, then, slyly, “even though you left me hard without any way to satisfy myself.”
Ah, there it is. Eris scoffs, and Azriel relaxes a fraction when he finally looks up at him.
“And here I was thinking we were having a serious moment,” he drawls, “but you and your cock—”
“—which you can’t live without—”
His whole face flushes red. “We are not talking about this again.”
Az snickers. “You said it.” He presses a kiss to Eris’ temple, small smile still on his face.
Silence falls again, but it’s less heavy now. The dogs have tired each other out and are sitting at the bank, dripping wet and panting, tails wagging. One of them snaps her jaw at a shadow which had got too curious for its own good. It dissipates, then reappears at his shoulder, hissing at them. Then the others, content to hide beneath his wings, start to simmer.
Eris exhales.
“Tomorrow is bothering me more than I’d care to admit,” he says sharply, almost like he can’t believe he’s hearing himself speak the words.
Tomorrow is the Solstice party in Velaris with everyone. All of his family, including Elain and Lucien, back from their trip, even Nesta if she can stomach being in the same room as Amren, will be there. Eris, most importantly, too, but not if it’s going to be like this. Az would rather spend the Solstice here, sat at the bank of a brook, with Eris curled against him, than he would make him endure something he’ll hate for his sake. The gods know he’s had enough of that.
“We don’t have to go,” he tells him. “You know that.”
“Of course we do,” he fires back, “you love holidays. I’m not going to take that from you.”
Damn him, his heart stutters in his chest.
“Eris—”
“We’re going,” he says firmly, “as unfortunate as your brothers might find that.”
There is nothing in this world Azriel would like more for his two worlds to collide. For Cassian to be able to look Eris dead in the eye and treat him fairly, for Rhys to see him as something more than a political rival and something better than his father.
It’s… wishful thinking.
But instead of saying any of that, Az squeezes his hand again. “It doesn’t matter what they think.”
The brook batters the rocks at its bed.
A moment passes.
Two.
One of the hounds lies down, and the other joins her.
“No,” Eris says, “it doesn’t.”
Azriel has warned them, warned everyone, that he and Eris will leave as soon as someone comments anything, with no preamble and no pleading to have them stay. I won’t have it, he’d snapped in Rhys’ office, eyeing each of them and daring them to object. No one did. Not even Mor.
Azriel has made it very clear to them what Eris means to him.
They don’t understand; they’ve never seen Eris like this. Never known him tender or vulnerable or contemplative, and they most likely never will. Tomorrow, he’ll be what they expect. Arrogant, sneering, and tolerable only because he has to be. Only Az gets him as he is.
He shifts, pulls his legs in then stretches back out languidly, a hitched sound catching in his throat, shuffling so he can lie his head on Az’s thigh, almost in his lap, and tugs his hand to his chest. Happily, Azriel lets him.
Carefully, he casts his gaze back up at him.
“What were you dreaming about?” he asks, more aloof than he probably is. No doubt, Az had been hard and muttering dirty things under his breath in his sleep when Eris left him that morning, drenching them both in the scent of sweet arousal and a certain amount of desperation—that Eris happens to enjoy.
The question is a distraction of the most obvious kind. If it will get him to smile, Az will play along; talking can come as soon as Eris does.
“Lots of things,” Az replies, his tone light and non-committal. He leans back and—
“Like what?” Eris presses.
Predictable. He gets off on hearing about his fantasies. Puts a lot of effort into making them a reality. Azriel gets off on telling him.
“There was a headboard,” he says. “You were very, very loud, and you were begging me for it like a bitch in heat. So—” a shit-eating grin— “the usual.” With an incredulous kind of laugh, Eris rolls his eyes, but that delightful blush high on his cheekbones is back. Such a gorgeous face. His free hand comes to toy with the stray strands of his hair.
Az voice dips.
“You were so coy.” He watches attentively as Eris’ pupils blow out a little. “You teased me all night and I dragged you out of whatever party we were at to have you pressed in that little alcove by the orchards. You remember it?” That earns him a heated glare. They’ve defiled that poor alcove more than any other place in the House outside of Eris’ chambers. How could he ever forget? “Then, I carried you to bed because you couldn’t walk and had you again, and again, and again, until all you could think to do was scream my name.”
Eris tuts. “You do always last longer in your head.” Az wonders if he knows how breathy he sounds, or how horny that makes him.
“Is that a challenge?” he asks.
“Maybe.”
“Hm, maybe.” The finger he’d had twirling the loose strands of Eris’ hair by his cheek runs along his jawline. “You know what else I was dreaming about?” he asks lowly, catching that deliciously glazed look in Eris’ eye as he shifts again, perhaps to relieve himself of the growing tightness at his crotch. Az can scent it, that wonderfully subtle, burgeoning, burning arousal.
“Tell me,” Eris says, blinking up at him.
Az pulls Eris’ chin up just enough that it surely can’t quite be comfortable.
He smiles pleasantly.
Squeezes his hand.
“Your pretty, pretty mouth.”
It happens as though they’d planned it, how easily Eris lets go, turns and crawls towards him, knees rustling the leaves on the ground. He grips the top of his thigh to yank Az’s hips to his—fuck—! The sweetest contact of Eris nuzzling his face against the very thin fabric of these stupid, in-the-way trousers makes Azriel suck in a breath and card his hand through Eris’ hair, only to tug him away when he gets hard enough to itch for real friction.
“I should make you beg for it,” he hisses. On his knees for him, he’s already halfway there.
He shakes his head. “Don’t.” He pushes against Az’s hand and goes to fiddle with his waistband. His shadows creep down his forearms, ready to restrain, but Az stops them, waiting for what he knows is coming right… “Please, Az, don’t.”
“Maybe,” he purrs.
His name grinds out of Eris’ mouth, half-pleading and half-pissed off, exactly how it should be, and gods if it isn’t the best thing he’s ever heard. Truly, he’s powerless to stop his grip in his hair loosening, gentling to a caress that has him keening. He barely has time to think before Eris is fiddling with the ties at his crotch and pulling his waistband off his hips just enough to expose him.
The first kitten lick to the tip of his cock is a cruel tease and Eris bats his fucking eyelashes at him while he does it, knowing that’s all it takes to make him fully hard. That all he needs is to see his tongue swipe at the pearl of pre-cum at the head and for him to moan just like that only from the taste.
Wings splayed out behind him and twitching from the pleasure that shoots straight up his spine, Azriel has to lean back to give Eris more room. Greedily, he takes it, wrapping his lips around the head and—
“Fuck, Eris…”
He feels him smile into the bob of his head, his tongue curled along the underside of his cock which makes him fight rolling his hips into his mouth. Instead, Az guides him down, pushing him take more and more like he knows he can. He feels it when he swallows and tries to relax his throat until his nose is pressed against the trimmed hair at the base of his dick, when he groans and the vibrations make Azriel tighten his hand into a fist as his head falls back.
They work into a rhythm, Az picking up the slack where Eris falters, and he doesn’t falter much, with timed movement of hips. Enough to send shudders through his whole body, but not enough to hurt or bruise. Only when Eris start to grind his own hips does Az snap his calf against his backside, stopping him from giving himself any relief.
“None of that,” he grits out.
Az wants him to come untouched in his breeches, right here, on the autumn leaves by the brook.
Eris, it seems, wants Az to come in his mouth.
He can feel the tension coiling in his stomach with every pass of Eris’ mouth, but it twists when his hand leaves it white-knuckled grasp on the hem of his shirt to play with his balls and oh he’s so close…
“Keep going,” he pants, stroking at the back of Eris’ head wherever he can. He has to… fuck, no, he has… shit… he has to see. With everything he can spare, Az tips his chin down so he can watch.
He does it like he’s made for it, made for him and only him. Eris knows exactly how to tip him over the edge, but Az knows what’ll do it for him.
“You’re so good for me, Eris,” he coos, “so pretty, so perfect, aren’t you?”
And Eris fucking whines, keens, breaks. Az’s wings twitch and tighten. His shadows fizzle. He gasps. Comes so hard down Eris’ throat he might as well be in a different universe. Barely manages to catch the sight of him swallowing everything he gives him, but, by the gods, he does, doesn’t he? Takes it all and pulls off him with a heinously lewd smack, then rests his head against Az’s thigh, chest heaving.
Az reaches for him and tugs him up, settles him in his lap, and crashes his lips against his. Eris’ half-lidded eyes widen, then shut as his tongue sweeps into his mouth, the taste of his spend still lingering. They barely pull apart before Az latches onto Eris’ neck, sucking a bruise into the tender skin big enough that everyone will notice tomorrow and that’s just what he wants. For everyone to know he’s unashamedly his and his alone.
Eris laughs as Az pulls at his shirt. “We’re not doing this on the dirty ground in front of the hounds,” he breathes out, as Az pointedly ignores him. The hounds will find their own way back. “And,” he continues, “I might need a moment.”
Probably. Az can feel the wetness of where he came against his stomach as he grips him impossibly closer. “Want you so bad,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and full of post-climax roughness, against his skin. Gives him another bruise, this one at his collarbone.
The hand that swipes across the top of his wing makes him shake with overstimulation and stop his ministrations. Eris uses his opportunity.
“You can have me,” he says, his lips pressed against Az’s ear, “in bed. Where there’s a headboard for you to dream of again tonight. Sound acceptable for you, you silly bat?”
On anyone else’s tongue, bat would make him bristle, but the way Eris says it always makes him soft.
“Fine,” he relents, only because the headboard does sound appealing.
Az shifts his hold so he can stand and keep Eris wrapped around him. If his hand finds its way to his ass, that’s mere coincidence, just as he’s sure he didn’t mean to squeak at the contact.
To hide the blush on his cheeks, no doubt, Eris presses gentle kisses to his jawline. “We’ll see if you can last, hm?” he teases.
Az glowers. “Asshole.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
Eris purrs a contented chuckle, and Az’s shadows whisk them back to the House.
The Solstice tomorrow might end up being a shitshow, but Azriel couldn't care less right now.
No, right now, he's thinking about Eris' pretty mouth, and Eris' pretty ass, and Eris' pretty hands, grabbing blindly at the headboard.
~ You return home after a full day of doing as you please.
~ You notice as you come in the door that some of your things have been moved. This is strange.
~ You enter your kitchen, only to find a goose rooting through your cupboards, searching for a tasty morsel!
~ You're about to run, eager not to become said-tasty morsel, when you notice that, as the goose moves, something attached to its leg tinkles. A bell. And with it, there seems to be a note, wrapped in festive ribbon.
~ Warily, you lean down and take it. The goose eyes you beadily.
~ You unfold the note, thinking that someone surely could have sent you a text or maybe a tumblr ask instead of a goose.
~ It reads simply:
"Tomorrow.
Lots of love, 🍑
P.S. Sorry about the goose. I promise, she doesn't bite, but she probably won't leave until you pet her."
~ This is not very reassuring.
~ Why did your Secret Santa not send one of those weird talking geese that helped with your gift exchange fic? At least then you could ask it what it wants.
~ You look down at the goose, attempting to guess. The goose looks up at you, expectant.
~ Hm.
Pet the goose?
[Y] / [N]
AWWWW THIS IS SO CUTEEEE
AND TMM OMFG YESSSS!!! This is amazing, thank you so much 🥰🥰🥰
Of course I pet the goose after an hour of staring at her omg ☺️☺️☺️☺️
it's day six of your acotar advent calendar, and I have a question for you
lovely elain loves to bake
clever lucien loves her cake...s
so, so much so that when he's in the kitchen with his lover
he's totally bending her over the counter to fuck her
right?
even, maybe, at the solstice celebrations? while everyone is in the other room? 👀
what do you think? are they little exhibitionists? or are they keeping it more low-key, at least for now?
hope you enjoyed my shitty poetry,
~ lots of love, your ASS 🪿
Lmaooo, I love it dearly thank you 😚💗
I fear Lucien doesn’t operate in lowkey when it comes to Elain, as soon as that male gets the green light he is rabid. Like fucking everywhere, claiming her in every room of the human land manor, the palace of Rhodes and a good portion of Rhysand’s properties as well as every picnic, hike, trip and dinner. Yes, dinner. They gettin it on daily until Elain literally cannot (atp girly is already pregnant and needs a break) and they slow down a little.. until she’s once again similarly craving.
sleepy ask because the head goose 🪿 is tucked up in bed rn
azriel and eris are, undoubtedly, starved for sleep (and each other 🤭). shadowsinging. heir-ing. high lord-ing. it's involved stuff.
so, when they get chance, how are they doing that Literal Sleeping Together™? who gets to be big spoon? who initiates the cuddles? how are they tangling with a certain spymaster's wings (if you catch my meaning 👀)? AND...
the age old question
how many dogs is eris letting up on bed?
as always, be as concise or long as you like (:
~ lots of love, your ASS 🪿
I’m matching ur freak and answering half asleep lol 💗🫶
Azriel’s hot breath tickled the hairs of his nap, the male’s nose bumped into the back of his head as often as his outrageously large bulge canted against his lower back. Yes, Azriel sleep-humped on frequent occasion, when morning comes he takes out his full fledged frustration from a night of humping against his husband because he has wet dreams like he was going through heats when REM hits and fucks them both stupid.
Thankfully, the hounds will usually patter off when the sun rises, and far before Azriel and his cock do. And by ‘the hounds,’ I do mean all of them, all twelve 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️
it's day four baby, and well, it has to be elucien's turn, right?
elain, poor girl is traumatised, quiet with a delightful mischievous streak, and just wants to get on with her own life in peace after being the BAMF to kill the king of hybern.
lucien, poor guy is more than a bit traumatised (i've heard when you look up "been through it" in the dictionary, it's just his gorgeous face), and takes the cake for being our resident rake-turned-yearning-loverboy.
they can get it. this is an established, canon fact. they fuck. there's no denying it.
the question is... how much do they fuck? who is the sweetest in the streets and the freakiest in the sheets? and, most importantly, who blushes the prettiest, and what about each other makes them go completely red in the face?
of course, no pressure (:
~ hugs and kisses, all the goosies at ASS HQ 🪿
p.s. look, i know i've been asking horny questions, but ASS HQ has had smut on the brain recently. we've got some fluffy ones coming soon 🤭
Naw I’m sorry I didn’t answer yesterday it was super busy😭😭😭
Ok I like writing modern Elucien versus canon so for them in that setting: DAILY. THEY WHORES. ACTIVE ONES.
For canon shenanigans: it’s rabid in the begining cuz mating bond but then probably like several times a week. I can’t imagine Lucien or Elain wanting to stay apart long yanno? (After establishment lmao I’m realizing that is exactly what’s happening with them rn lol)
Ok so just like the rest of us, I think Elain would thirst for Lucien’s thighs and ofc that Autumnal shlong; Lucien would be so down bad about her ass. He’s just an ass man to me idk
You can’t make me choose!! They both blush the prettiest 😤😤😤
Literally everything. In the begining they would blush at E V E R Y T H I N G. Like just being within Covid distance bro
Again I’m sorry for the lag pookie, have a nice day!
it's day three of your acotar advent calendar, and well, the big man upstairs (the head goose🪿 if you will) has asked me (humble goose #3 🪿) to ask you a question today !
i may have been using my downtime at ASS HQ to peruse your masterlist and - between you and me - the way Azriel's shadows make Eris beg in your fic Their Dark has me feeling many kinds of ways, none of which i should be thinking about at my desk 😳
so, Azriel's shadows are our topic of today. some people make them semi-sentient (or fully sentient), others opt for the "Azriel has full control approach". what do you think? are those pesky little fuckers enjoying teasing Eris as much as Az is, or is Az the mastermind behind it all? equally, if you have any other shadow-based thoughts, i'd love to know!
no pressure, as ever (:
~ all my love, humble goose #3 🪿
p.s. in the meantime, i suppose i might just have to go and read Their Dark again... for no reason in particular 👀
Naww thank you for reading, I love that one lol. I definitely tweek how much efficacy they can have as to not undermine a dynamic (like I don’t want Az to seem cucked by his own shadows lmao.. unless? 😏)
But in general I suppose, I think Az can have ultimate control when expressed and only negated if the shadows can sense his life is in danger (that could be an act of self preservation as well, shadowsinging hosts being rare and these shadows being yappy). Though Az can inquire and see for himself, it’s up to the shadows how much he knows about their shenanigans. They’d usually tell him about Eris jerking off while moaning his name or anything super lewd they know would please their masters but they have the sentience to omit that while Azriel needs to be focused yanno
They’re more aroused by pleasing Azriel than Eris, with him being their master and all, so they do enjoy the teasing in the sense that they’re obeying their owner versus because the ginger brat is hot
it's day two of the acotar advent calendar and i have another question for you :)
i wanted to ask about amnesta 😈
i have to admit, before the gift exchange, i had never even thought about amnesta (they're so delicious to write though tehehe)
i wondered if, when you think about them, you see their relationship as a "let's fuck out all of our problems and anger, you can take it, i know you can" type situation, or do you think there's opportunity for real tenderness between the two in the long-term?
as ever, no pressure to answer (:
~ all our love, your ASS 🪿
Ooooohhh good question, dear ass 🪿💗
Not to offer a cop out but I do think it’d be a combination lol. I think they would want to fuck their problems out, Nesta having shown promiscuity as a coping technique in her past would make that nearly certain, but Amren prefers knowing before taking and would push communication, though sometimes she would be sitting on Nesta’s face while doing so 🥰
i hope you've been well :) the birdies and i have been hard at work getting your gift all wrapped up and perfect 😈, and now we're on the countdown to the solstice...
welcome to the acotar advent calendar tehe 🤭
one little question, every day until your first gift drops, to get you in the mood for some acotar fun!
so without further ado: question 1, what made you get involved with acotar? a ship? a scene or several from the books? or maybe a fic you've read or some art you love!
be as concise or as detailed as you like :)
see you tomorrow!
~ lots of love, your ASS 🪿
AWWW THIS IS SO CUTE!! Thank you 😚😚🥰
I was looking for Cassian fluff/fix-it fics lol. It was that line of him calling Amren a fluffy marshmallow or something and that was the first time I chuckled reading acotar so I remember it lmao. I began with nessian fics, then ones that focused on Nesta, then I read a Neris fic which led me down a couple months of reading those before finding Azris which is where I fully devoted myself to the fandom, I mean:
And then of course it was @jules-writes-stories and her lovely AU that led me to make an account and starting writing my own azris fluff+pwp because I was parched (now thankfully (giddy whenever I see someone new) there are many more writing azris fluff but I’m addicted to writing them and many more dynamics so I’m pushing off retirement lmao)
I look forward to more questions, this was so cute!! Happy December first, Santa bby😚😚🥰
a quick logistics question for you as the birdies here start working on the drafts for your gift:
since this is a multi-chapter fic, i wanted to ask if you'd like it to be published all at once or if you'd prefer a staggered release?
~ much love from ASS hq 🫶🪿
Hey babes!! 🥰
I think I’d prefer staggered because I enjoy writing essays long comments on fics, especially those gifted to me hehe, and each comment deserves fresh brain cells yanno?
hey hey! it's me (again), i don't want to bombard you with questions but the birdies are brainstorming and fleshing out how we think your fic is going to go down.
this is a rather personal question, so it's totally chill if you don't want to answer (or if you do, just privately, feel free to dm me! <3)
when it comes to smut—and maybe that's where some of this fic is heading 👀—is there anything you really like to see? equally, is there anything that is an absolute no go for you?
~ sending all the love in the world, your ASS 🫶🪿
Omg not personal at all!! Babe u could ask what color I think the tip of Eris’s dick is two seconds before he comes and I’d lyk
I’ll keep it tamer since you sound eloquent and I’d hate to pervert you too much lol. I love rough words but soft movements—like Azriel shoving Eris’s face into a pillow before whispering in his ear 🤤 and I’m a super slut for fluffy after care 🧎♀️
Pls no incest, bestiality, scat, cutting/scarring, mutilation but I’m game for pretty much anything else
hey hey! it's me (again), i don't want to bombard you with questions but the birdies are brainstorming and fleshing out how we think your fic is going to go down.
this is a rather personal question, so it's totally chill if you don't want to answer (or if you do, just privately, feel free to dm me! <3)
when it comes to smut—and maybe that's where some of this fic is heading 👀—is there anything you really like to see? equally, is there anything that is an absolute no go for you?
~ sending all the love in the world, your ASS 🫶🪿
Omg not personal at all!! Babe u could ask what color I think the tip of Eris’s dick is two seconds before he comes and I’d lyk
I’ll keep it tamer since you sound eloquent and I’d hate to pervert you too much lol. I love rough words but soft movements—like Azriel shoving Eris’s face into a pillow before whispering in his ear 🤤 and I’m a super slut for fluffy after care 🧎♀️
Pls no incest, bestiality, scat, cutting/scarring, mutilation but I’m game for pretty much anything else
good morning/afternoon/evening/middle-of-the-night to you, goosie!!
i hope you like our new look over here at ASS HQ!
this is one of the birdies swooping down to squawk a few questions at you :)
firstly, i want you to cast your mind into some distant AU where we all get flung into Prythian. which court do you think you'd live in? and, if you feel like doing some more thinking, what kind of things would you do there? are you going off for adventures, or are you touring the cafes all along the sidra for the best magical matcha?
next, if there was one ACOTAR character you could keep and put in your pocket, which one would it be?
and lastly, if one of azriel's shadows decided to hang out with you for the day, what kind of secret would you want it to whisper in your ear?
of course, no pressure to answer, and if you have anything else that comes to mind that you think the birdies should know, do say (or drop us an ask anytime)!
ok, ok, that's it from this birdie for now.
~ lots of love, all of us at ASS HQ 🪿
Ahhh hi darling, lovely to see yall 😌💗
I love love loveee the cold and blonde women who may hurt me so Winter is where you’d find me. More specifically, I would probably spend my time volunteering to train the polar bears in the military.
Eris, 100%, it would be fun to have someone snarky to chit-chat with while irritated irl lol. I’d look absolutely crazy but what’s new yanno
Ooo great question (these all are lol). The reasons people are biting their tongues. Give me the tea.
Hmm I can’t think of anything, I shall lyk if that changes 🙂↕️🙂↕️ !!
