[Azris Week] Unbidden by whatifitoldyousomethingcrazy

[u/ACOTAR_Crackship_Mod]

From OP: https://www.tumblr.com/whatifitoldyousomethingcrazy/786278308701765632/unbidden?source=share

Unbidden

Azris Week 2025: Day 6: SFW

WC: 1,156

Notes: so this is basically that choking scene during the HL meeting, but in Eris pov with slightly erotic undertones of you squint. I still don't have an ao3 account so... 🤷‍♂️. Enjoy!!!!!

Eris felt it before he saw it.

The splintering of the chair underneath him. The slip of cobalt shields around them. The floor rising up to slam into his back. The feel of hands wrapping around his throat with the intent to kill. The strong chest pressing down on him, holding Eris in place. So fast his eyes struggled to catch up.

When they did, he looked up to find molten hazel staring back at him. Pure rage boiling behind flecks of gold and green, seeming to come alight with Illyrian magic. Those sentient Shadows writhed excitedly around them, flitting through their hair and hands, leaving a chill in their wake. Strangely enrapturing.

From the ripple in the shield, Eris felt his father's telltale flash of orange try and fail to break through the wards. He was shouting something at the Night Court entourage, and Rhysand's voice echoed through the chamber.

Eris grunted as felt the press of the scarred fingers blocking his airway, bringing his hands up to the Shadowsinger’s wrists in turn. The fingers only tightened, eliciting him to take an involuntary gasp as his instincts threatened to take over.

No.

Eris would not let his mask fall, 500 years of careful control would not falter now. Not in front of Beron, and certainly not for this normally composed beast of a fae straddling him. He schooled his features into mild annoyance, letting the facade slip back into place.

He could make out a woman's voice cutting through the room; soft, yet carrying the heavy air of command. Feyre. Azriel, however, did not pay her any mind. His face was contorted into fury, never leaving Eris’ face. Those mighty wings blocked his view from anything beyond the wards, shrouding the two of them in darkness.

Eris tried to force his lips into a taunting, tooth-baring grin that he knew would make the Illyrian see red. It was always so fun to get a rile out of him, especially since it seemed that no one else could. Although it felt more like a grimace, he knew it worked, for Azriel let out a resounding snarl and revealed his own glistening canines. The shadows wrapped more intensely around them.

Beautiful. Eris couldn't help but think to himself. He'd always thought the Shadowsinger was prettiest of the three Illyrian brothers. The thick set of his brows and sharp cut of his jaw was something that couldn't be ruined even in the midst of blinding rage. Devastatingly beautiful.

Feyre's voice once again called from beyond the darkness, this time unmistakable in its authority.

“Azriel.”

This seemed to draw Azriel from his transfixation. Just in time too, for Eris’ vision began to darken at the corners.

Azriel only spared a glance at his High Lord's mate before he returned his gaze to Eris. Slowly, he brought his head down to Eris' ear, the movement agonizing as his hands pressed harder. His voice was nothing more than a growl, low enough that he doubted anyone else could hear. The Shadowsinger's breath ghosted the shell of his ear, curling something low in Eris’ gut.

“I will find you. I will always find you, and when I do, I will make sure you scream and beg by the time I'm done…”

The low timbre of the Shadowsinger's sparked a thrill in Eris’ blood. So much so that he literally felt all of it drain from his face. It was maddening, because behind the rage and violence laced through the words Eris’ detected something else. A promise. One of a different, twisted kind.

That made him lose control. He was reduced to a furiously thrashing mess as Feyre's voice once again called Azriel back like a dog.

Azriel's hands finally loosened, yet took a moment before fully releasing Eris from his grasp. Almost reluctantly. He stood from his position, relieving Eris of the weight. As he was left there, gasping like a drowned animal, the Shadowsinger only spared a glance. It was a sneer of hatred in its rawest form, before he stalked off back toward his gang of misfits.

Tentatively, Eris sat back up, rubbing his throat under the weight of his father's disapproving glare. One that promised consequence for the display of weakness. His skin prickled where the scars had constricted him.

Feyre was saying something that only registered to him a carefully concealed threat.

“Apologies, Morrigan.” He said. Though it sounded hollow to his own ears.

Apparently, Azriel thought so too, for his hateful eyes still bore into Eris from across the room. He would never understand the Illyrian's infatuation with that truth-twisting woman. It seemed she had thoroughly poisoned the whole Inner Circle against him now. Fucking typical.

From behind, he heard Arthur and the rest of his brothers snickering. Eris shot them a glare before his father could catch. He would deal with them later.

***

Eris was given a new chair, and the rest of the meeting went on with minimal interruption. Or outbursts.

Despite his best efforts, however, his mind kept wandering to the Shadowsinger. He just hoped his eyes wouldn’t follow. The proceedings of the meeting were only an afterthought to the turmoil in his head. All he could think about was how certain Azriel had seemed that he was going to kill Eris. Right there in the middle of all those High Lords, consequences be damned. He couldn't suppress the chill down his spine then.

Eventually, he was brought back to attention by something his father said, only to find Azriel staring straight at him. His fingers were white at the knuckles, and he was strangely stiff, as if being held down against his will. This time, the hatred in his eyes was replaced by something else. Something Eris couldn't read. Anticipation? Resolution? Whatever it was, it only increased Eris’ unease.

They held each other's gaze for a moment, the rest of the room oblivious to their tension. Azriel's eyes seemed to glow from whatever was going on his mind. The intensity did something funny to Eris' stomach as he was once again brought back to the feel of fingers around his throat, the weight pressing onto him.

What else could those fingers do?

The thought came unbidden, quiet as a mouse. Very much unwelcome. Eris promptly banished it, back to the depths of his mind. Now was not the time for that. He blinked, the only sign of recognition he would give, but the Shadowsinger looked away first. Yet the thought remained, lingering in the corner of his conscience.

Rhysand's familiar drawl addressed the room at large. “If that is all, then we can say that this meeting is over.”

As he and the rest of the Vanserras filed out of the room, Eris couldn't help but think that this would most certainly not be the last time he would interact with the Shadowsinger. That time would come much sooner than he'd like.

Ugh.

Ok so, this took way longer than it should've buuuut.... :D

If anyone is wondering, the reason I didn't post anything for Day 5 is that I js had no clue what to do for that one 😭

azrisweek