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fieldofdaisiies · 3 hours

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azriel x eris | 2,9k words | warnings: mentions of domestic violence | masterlist

His senses are numb. The past minutes have become a blur. Beron dismissed them, denied them a healer, and, under the threat of using more of his power against them, chased them away from the Forest House.

Eris feels broken on the inside, even more than he was before this day. And he feels remorse. Cenka, his loyal spy, is somewhere in the dungeons, wounded, in pain, dying and he brought this upon her. He let her get hurt. He let his little brother get hurt.

Eris moans when Kallax urges him to go faster. The two brothers have been holding each other up while stumbling outside, almost like they were young boys again and their father had punished them for something silly and they ran away from the Forest House, seeking shelter from his rage somewhere within the forest.

They are heading into the forest, trying to get as far away from Beron as possible with both of them wounded and broken. They couldn’t stay there, or anywhere close to the Forest House, it could have ended terribly...

A trail of agony is left behind on Eris’ skin in the form of open wounds. He loses track of time, of space, of everything except the relentless onslaught of suffering. It hurts so much, every small part of his chest and arm, and his soul. It bleeds.

He can’t believe his father still uses his firepowers on him – the lashes, the faebane, he took it all, but the firepowers? The powers of a High Lord…this was too much even for Eris to take.

Kallax helps his brother lower himself to the ground, his wounded knees touching the dewey moss first. He braces his hands in front of them, Kallax’s hand resting atop his back. “This fucking asshole,” Kallax growls, swallowing a sob.

Eris is bent over, his back bowing from all the pain he is feeling, all the wounds still fresh and open whereas on Kallax’ body some already start to heal and seal. “He deserves to die, painfully and slowly. Eris, do you hear me?” Kallax pats his older brother on the back. “You need to end this.”

“I…” The oldest Vanserra brother’s voice is a bit muffled, due to saliva and blood mingling in his mouth. Before he continues, he spits onto the ground, then stiffens his spine so he can look at his younger brother. “I will end it. I will make him bleed.”

Eris shoves his hands harsher into the ground, knuckles turning white, crunching dirt and pine needles between his fingers. “For what he has done to all of us, I will make him suffer.”

Kallax growls in approval, patting Eris on the back one last time (obviously careful of the wounded skin) before climbing to his feet. “I’m not sure…but I can leave you?” he rasps, voice full of uncertainty and remorse.

“Where are you going?” Eris asks in an equally husky voice, turning his head so far that it doesn’t hurt, but he can see his brother.

“To her. I need to see if he...if he did anything to her.”

Eris understands without Kallax offering any more explanation – he knows where his brother is going. To his forest-Nymph.

His expression softens with gratitude when he takes in his brother’s face. Kallax all of a sudden looks so much younger, so much more breakable but nevertheless strong, and fierce.

"Thank you," Eris murmurs to his younger brother, acknowledging the unspoken understanding between them.

A cool breeze rustles through the branches, making goosebumps appear on Eris’ skin when he repeats his words. “Thank you, Kallax.”

His brother only nods. “Will you be fine, Eris?” He straightens up and brushes his hands down his thighs. “Can I leave you alone?”

Eris assures him that he will be fine. He won’t keep his younger brother here, not when out there there is someone who will take care of him and tend to his wounds. He should go see her, and be safe with her. As far away from their father and his wrath as possible. No longer within his reach and his fury.

“I will take care of myself,” Eris assures his younger brother, his voice soft but determined, despite the pain he feels. Like I have done my whole life, he leaves unsaid.

Eris notices the uncertainty in Kallax's expression and looks at him steadily, showing both strength and honesty in his gaze. “I will be fine, you can believe me.”

His younger brother inclines his head, then rolls back his shoulders. He pins Eris with a look. “I just want you to know that you can count on me.” Kallax drags in a deep breath, the lift of his chest visible causing him pain. “I said it before, Eris, you are my brother. Whatever happened between us… we share the same blood and you…can always count on me.” He gives him one more glance over his shoulder and then he is gone. Winnowed away, hopefully to his nymph who will take care of him.

Eris sends a silent prayer to the Mother to keep his little brother safe and then he lets the pain reach the surface. He allows the hurt to show, knowing that his little brother no longer has to witness it. A cry of agony parts his lips and his arms give in, the whole extent of the pain that Beron caused him hitting him with full force then.

He cries out and pain pulses through him when he slumps to the ground.

Eris lies on the damp grass, bloodied and battered, his chest marked by burns and scars. The thoughts of his brother and their father's cruel actions weigh heavy on his mind, filling him with a mixture of anger and agony. Beron hurt Kallax and he wasn’t there to stop it. Beron hurt Cenka, and will continue to hurt her unless gets to save her. He has to heal. He has to fight for her.

He can't shake the overwhelming guilt that gnaws on him. Each wound marring his skin is a painful reminder of his failure to protect the people who mean everything to him. His brothers. His mother. His loyal spy.

Anger simmers beneath the surface, a flame fueled by fury and pain. He clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms and he grinds his teeth. He won’t ever let anyone suffer again. This has to end. It has to end now.

This evening Beron won, but it was the very last time.

With each laboured breath he sucks in, he gains strength to fight for redemption, for justice and freedom within this court. For himself, for his brothers and for his mother.

Eris finds himself drifting between consciousness and oblivion, but his goal has never been clearer before. Once he is healed, he will make him pay. He will end Beron’s reign. He will end his father!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“Tamlin may have caused a lot of damage but he won’t support Beron.” Nesta places her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side.

“You don’t know that, girl,” Amren cuts in, narrowing her brows. “He is unpredictable. We can’t trust anyone from another court – safe for Varian.”

“We can’t trust anyone else?” Nesta throws back. “We can trust Eris.”

Azriel shifts a little at the mention of Eris’ name. He has been standing at the door for a while, not moving an inch or saying a single word, just observing. He watches Amren’s expression closely, hoping to see what she truly thinks there. And if she truly mistrusts Eris. Azriel tightly tucks in his wings when he approaches Rhysand’s desk around which the others are crowded. His scarred hands are folded behind his back, his demeanour unreadable despite the rising curiosity within him.

“No.” Amren’s answer is so matter-of-factly, so cold, Azriel’s mouth almost falls open. Why would Amren think they can’t trust Eris?

Azriel internally thanks Nesta because she says, “Eris might be cruel and mean, but we can count on him. We can trust him. We are in this together with him, we have the same goal, we want the same for Prythian.”

“What if he wants to become High King of Prythian?”

“He doesn’t entertain this thought,” Rhysand finally says and rises from his chair, his broad hands now braced on the table beneath him. He slowly inclines his head to look on a stack of papers on the right side of the table, then languidly taps his finger against the dark wooden surface. “There was no thought of this in his mind.”

“He probably wouldn’t let you see it if he thought about claiming this position, boy.” Amren throws Rhysand a look, almost in a reprimanding way, but he gives his head a shake.

“His goal is Autumn and courts that are united, that work together and support each other.” His spine straightens and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants.

Azriel wants to inform them about Beron’s plans with Koschei, which Eris shared with him, but Nesta beats him to it. She reaches for Cassian’s arm, curls it around her middle and says, “Eris is not Beron and I think it is finally time for all of us to understand this.”

She looks at Rhys first, then at Azriel who offers her no answer. Also no reaction. He only looks at her, and then his features soften the slightest bit. Especially when Cassian speaks up as well.

“You all know how much I hate Eris, probably even more than Az does,” the general chuckles, “but my mate is right. We only know one version of Eris, the version he wants us to and everyone else to see. And I agree that we should and can trust him.” His arm tightens around Nesta, but this time Azriel doesn’t look away. He looks at them, and sees their love and doesn’t feel envious. He allows himself to happy for them…

And with this realisation, that he is not bad and doesn’t grant his brothers their happiness, he fixes his posture, now standing tall, his shadows calm around him and then opens his mouth.

“Beron is planning on a meeting with him. Eris informed me that his goal is to destroy Day and Night first, and then march all over Prythian; all of that with the help of Koschei. And Keir,” Azriel says in a loud and steady voice.

Silence blankets the room.

“Keir…” Rhysand breathes, but seems once again speechless afterwards.

Azriel wants to confirm Keir’s name, but he can’t. He suddenly feels a sharp pain pierce through the left side of his body. He doesn’t let it show, only shifts so his hand is holding onto the elbow of the other. Maybe it is heart, reacting to his lack of sleep, or he hasn’t drunk enough today, or his training was too hard the past days…

Once the silence is interrupted by Cassian’s loud “Fuck!”, chatter and discussions begin about what Azriel has just revealed. But the shadowsinger is no longer able to really listen or pay attention. He bounces his foot when the pain increases. He is confused about where it comes from, what causes the pain. It is not directly in his heart it is…in his soul.

His breathing quickens and he untangles his arms, bringing one hand up to rub over the back of his neck.

“This is exactly what Eris told you?” he hears Rhys ask and can only nod in answer. The pain is so damn strong, he has to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. Sweat starts to break out on his forehead and Azriel stumbles backwards. Pain scrapes through his whole body making him wince internally.

Azriel drops his hands, clenching and unclenching them, his heart rapidly beating. A breath whooshes out of him. He folds a hand over his heart and takes another step back, slumping against the chair. “I need a moment,” he tells no one in particular but all eyes shoot to him.

“Az?” Cassian carefully asks, moving closer to his brother and placing his hand atop his shoulder.

Azriel? What is going on? Rhysand asks him mind-to-mind.

“I just need a moment,” the shadowsinger repeats when the pain within his chest only increases, it has spread out through his entire body and hurts so damn much; almost like flames burn through his veins, setting his whole body on fire.

But it can’t be…it can’t be fire that causes him this pain, unless–

A wail pierces through ear drums and he knows exactly who this voice belongs to. Azriel’s Illyrian leathers stick to his skin from how much he is sweating by now. His shoulders curl forward, caving in his chest.

Between quick shallow breaths, Azriel manages to say, “I’m sorry, I think I need to go home now. I’m not feeling well. I feel a little…dizzy.”

“We won’t let you leave like this, Az,” Nesta is quick to cut in, crouching down in front of Azriel, her hands resting on his left knee. “You really don’t look well. You think you caught something?”

He wants to tell them. He wants to tell them so badly, but he can’t. First and foremost, because he has no time. He has to go to the Autumn Court now. He can’t stay here a moment longer. He has to leave and check on Eris. He has to find out what is causing the Autumn Court male this pain, but he already guesses that he knows the answer. Beron.

Azriel has no doubts that this pain comes from Eris. They are connected through a fucking mating bond, and there is no more denying it. His want and need stems from this bond. He wants Eris because of this bond, and now he is going insane with panic and terror because someone hurt his mate. Not someone. Beron hurt his mate. And he has to find him now.

It could be a trap but he has to be reckless, he can’t sit here and pretend nothing is happening. He can’t shove the damn bond away.

“I think so. I must have caught something,” Azriel murmurs, and lifts his chin to look into Nesta’s eyes. She can see the lie in Azriel’s hazel ones, but only bows her head. “I guess you should lay down and rest then. Sleep always helps me,” she tells him and Azriel nods.

Azriel’s heart is racing when he pushes up onto his feet. “I’m really fine, I just need rest,” he assures Cassian who grimaces at him. “Lack of sleep and too little food today…nothing tragic,” he lies and bows into Rhysand’s direction, his mental shields tightly sealed. “Inform me tomorrow about what you discussed when I was absent.”

Rhys says nothing, only tips his head in answer. He also doesn’t believe his brother but he also doesn’t try to stop him. The cold between them hasn’t faded yet, there is still a lot to talk about.

The moment Azriel is outside, the cool air wraps around him like a snowstorm. He unfolds his wings and allows himself to roar with the ache all throughout his body. Then he takes off and shadow-winnows the rest of the way.

This is reckless and completely foolish, but this is what the bond makes you turn into. A reckless fool with only your mate in mind, and all kind of rationality having left you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

His booted feet touch the ground and a thump hollows through the empty and dark forest. Azriel’s heart shatters when he feels the whole extent of Eris’ pain. The shorter distance between them must have enhanced the feeling. It knocks the life out of his soul and in his mind there is nothing but fear and terror. And confusion.

He has never allowed himself to entertain the thought of them truly being mates, that the feeling within his chest is really the bond, but now there is no denying anymore.

He and Eris Kian Vanserra are fucking mates, and no one, not even the Mother and the Cauldron can change this.

Azriel drags in sharp breath. The shadows and mist are like a curtain around him, making it hard for him to see, but the goal is clear: he has to find Eris within the next few minutes.

tag list for ACOCD @hnyclover @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @queercontrarian @fandomsmultiverse @acourtofbatboydreams @chunkypossum @baileybird71 @beckkthewreck @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @owllover123 @acotarobsessed @goldenmagnolias @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @v3lv3tf0x @talibunny30 @allyhill @popjunkie42 @skyesayshi @going-through-shit @mybestfriendmademe @12334555666 @nickishadow139

general Azris tag list: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams

#acotar #acosf #azriel #azriel x eris #azris #eris vanserra

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fieldofdaisiies · 22 hours

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thank you so much for the tag love @mrs-illyrian-baby💛

🍓 how did you get into writing fanfiction?

I would say I was exactly bored during lockdown, but I just needed something to other than uni work to do in my free time. I discovered that I loved reading and reading fantasy and then irl friend started writing fanfic but stopped a while ago and i was like "wait I could try that too" and yep, that's it.

🍇How many fandoms have you written in?

I started in the Harry Potter/Marauders fandom because in the lockdown I watched all the films again; then I quickly moved on to ACOTAR and have stayed here (but I have also written 2 stories for the last kingdom; hopefully some more in the future)

🍈 How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

technically I wrote a really bad Jacob Black fanfic when I was 14 without even knowing fanfic existed and without even liking Jacob lol. but I started to actively write fanfic in 2021 (so for 3 years now)

🍎Do you read or write more fanfiction?

last year I definitely wrote more, this year I am really trying to read more because there are soooo many incredibly good stories out there

🍌 What is one way you've improved as a writer?

I am not sure I if I have improved but I would say description and vocabulary wise. through writing and also reading, I have learned a lot new words that I now actively include in writing and I feel like maybe also my word order has improved (hopefully)

🍑 Do you have any bad habits as a writer?

I think sometimes my storylines are not that thrilling and rather boring or I ramble for too long which also makes stories not that exciting, but it is what it is.

🍋What is something you've been too nervous/ intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I am not really sure, but I guess big fighting/action scenes. I struggle a lot with vocabulary there and how to describe certain actions.

🍇what made you choose your username?

that I like daisies, that's it...

tagging: @moonlightazriel @thelov3lybookworm @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @acourtofladydeath @queercontrarian (no pressure)

Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!

Thank you @metalbvcky. NPT for @mrs-illyrian-baby @doasyoudesireandlive @km-ffluv @labella420

🍓 How did you get into writing fanfiction?

As a teen I was a voracious reader and tried to write my own stuff based on other books I'd read. I also loved ST:TNG and wanted dearly to be in an episode and had lots of the books. I wrote my own ST stories with OC's (gratuitous self inserts), but they never went anywhere. In my late teens I read some Xena fanfic on the internet. But that was it for a great number of years.

At the beginning of 2021 I sat and watched the entirety of the MCU films in chronological order (I'd seen most of them before and was mainly a Thor gal.) I fell down the Stucky rabbithole. Deep. I decided to look up fanfic. AO3 was now a thing! I wrote (a very poor) Stucky fic and here we are, almost 3 years later

🍇How many fandoms have you written in?

As my ST stuff never made it further than my parent's old PC in the days of dial-up, I won't count it.

I've written for MCU, various Chris Evans and Seb Stan Characters and one fic for RWRB. I've been toying with writing a one-off Criminal Minds fic as a gift for a friend.

🍈How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

Three in July since I first published anything on AO3.

🍎Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I try to balance it out. If I have a period of hyperfocus writing I try to then go through a period of reading. I read on both Tumblr and AO3, so try to keep that even as well.

🍌What is one way you've improved as a writer?

Getting betas to pick me up on tense changes, overuse of words and rogue commas. Reading more. Practising. Writing outlines for longer stories so I don't go off-piste.

🍑Do you have any bad habits as a writer?

Getting bored half-way through a long fic, especially if the first few parts haven't had a lot of interaction. Which is why I try to write the whole thing before I start posting.

🍍 What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Engineering courses at MIT and, for a separate fic, Violet wands, including the ways to use them and the differnt types of accessories you can use with them. I even watched a Youtube video.

🍉What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Any comment! Anything that gives me the validation I need!

🍐What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

I wrote a transformation into Tsum-tsum fic that was both cracky and smutty. That's pretty niche.

🥭What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Action scenes. I loathe them. I'm constantly wondering if they are long enough, and make sense.

🍏What is the easiest type?

Short things that are either PWP or fluffy slices of life.

🍑Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Mainly on my elderly laptop on G-Docs, and in every moment I can - normally afterwork before dinner and on Mondays when I don't have work.

🍋What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

There are a few characters and ships I haven't written that I'd like to. And I suppose I'd like to write a proper long, over 100k fic at some point.

🍇 what made you choose your username?

When I made my AO3 account I felt as though that at 40, and only really starting in Fandom in this way, I was late to the party, so that is who I became.

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fieldofdaisiies · 23 hours

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thank you for the tag @moonlightazriel and @brekkershadowsinger💛

praise the lord - asap rocky

fill the void - the weeknd

impossible - james arthur

lose control - teddy swims

the door - teddy swims

favourite - isabel larosa

wunder - ayliva

nfwmb - hozier

one - u2

same old love - selena gomez

tagging: @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @mrs-illyrian-baby @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot

10 Songs Tag Game

thank you for the tag, @sky-kiss 💋 here are ten from my recently played list

paging @atlabeth @rosewrites @onlycambions @cambion-companion @adevilyoudo @djmorn @muertawrites @hydropyro @tiefling-enjoyer @inaconstantstateofchange (sorry if you’ve already been tagged!)

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fieldofdaisiies · 23 hours

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thank you for the tag💛

f - favourite - isabel larosa

i - into it - chase atlantic

e - edge of seventeen - stevie nicks

l - lush life - zara larsson

d - doin' time - lana del ray

o - ophelia - the lumineers

f - formidable - stromae

d - disturbia - rihanna

a - another love - tom odell

i - into you - ariana grande

s - stay - rihanna

i - i know - travis scott

i - impossible - james arthur

e - egoist - falco

s - skyfall -adele

tagging: @brekkershadowsinger @berryzxx @sirenpearldust @mrs-illyrian-baby (no pressure)

Put a song for every letter in your url and tag the amount of people in your url !

Strawberry Blonde by Mitski

The Prettiest Star by David Bowie

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

Rue des trois frères by Fabrizio Paterlini

My Body’s Made of Crushed Little Stars by Mitski

Astronomy by Conan Gray

Nobody by Mitski

Baby Hotline by Jack Stauber’s Micropop

Ultraviolence by Lana Del Ray

Take Me to Church by Hozier

Inertia by AJR

Taking Whats Not Yours by TV Girl

Song About Me by TV Girl

Real Men by Mitski

Eleanor Rigby by Cody Fry

Gloom by Djo

Under Pressure by Queen, David Bowie

Last Words of a Shooting Star by Mitski

United in Grief by Kendrick Lamar

Snap Out of It by Arctic Monkeys

Bourgeoisieses by Conan Gray

Lonley Dancers by Conan Gray

Arabella by Arctic Monkeys

Cigarettes Out the Window by TV Girl

Knee Socks by Arctic Monkeys

this took so fucking long omg

@dandelionflowery @themortalityofundyingstars @pretentious-media @totalcharliespringsimp @absolutelyflabbergasted

@marylily-my-beloved @maeve-occasionally-reads @aestheic-writer18 @nonbinary-wyvern @justafrogghost

@moonyrab @chaserofstars11 @musicoftheheart @icarus-last-fall @saturnsconstellation

@hizzi3spotter @myfavcharacterdidntdrown @lionmythflower @silverameco @my-castles-crumbling

@whyistarchaser @jamespotterbbg @capay9267 @unaesthetic-writer @biblically-accurate-chaos

(i didnt think i knew 25 people but here we are🤷)

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fieldofdaisiies · 23 hours

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thank you for the tag💛

yellow, cats, banana or green apple

tagging (no pressure) @brekkershadowsinger @secret-third-thing @thelov3lybookworm @fell-in-luvs

A person's favorite color, favorite animal, and favorite flavor of ice cream can say a lot about them when considering the answers as a whole. Some prime examples I've heard are:

~ Silver, Artic Wolf, and Mint Chocolate Chip.

~ Pink/Yellow, Putu Bird, and Cotton Candy.

~ Light Brown, Tree Kangaroo, and Rum Raisin.

~ Green, Pig, and Cookie Dough.

Mine are:

~ Burgundy, Fox, and Moose Tracks.

Tag some friends and get a sense of who they are! :)

@notable-bumblr @persistentchaos @enterfandomreference @valerietompson @paper-crowns-and-tiaras @ironxprince @acecuddle @angst-dealer @hey-you-i-just

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 days

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It‘s all colourful and organised now heheheheh

#made me feel so productive doing this

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 days

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I had to reblog this because I just saw that you nearly brought my beloved betrothed Lucien to 1k notes 😭😭 he deserves all the love he can get!!!!

Lucien…

Lucien curling his arm around your shoulders, his eyes closing, drawing in a deep inhale, humming, "This is where you belong. Right here. In my arms."

Lucien, leaning against the doorframe, eyebrows raised teasingly, drawling, "Needy?"

Lucien grinning, "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss too."

Lucien, guiding you by your hips while you are on top, panting, "Fuck, just like that, little fox. Making me feel so good."

Lucien, kissing your hair, saying, "You smell like a breath of fresh air."

Lucien, titing your chin up with his index and middle finger while you kneels on the ground in front in him, drawling, "That’s my good girl."

Lucien growling, "You’re mine and now let everyone hear it," while he pushes into the hilt.

Lucien, his thumb stroking over your chin, the tip of his length positioned at your entrance, saying in a sensual voice, "Open up my little fox, let me make you feel good."

Lucien whimpering and groaning when you give him head.

Lucien yelping when you flick his hear after he teased you.

Lucien laughing from the bottom of his heart, the sound rich and pure, when you say something funny.

Lucien crying when talks about his past or when you share something emotional about your past.

Lucien whispering, "You are my mate," begore kissing you gently but nevertheless deeply.

Lucien, his hand holding your above your head, thrusting into you, growling, "Don’t hold back, let them hear you. Let them hear how good I make you feel."

Lucien, holding the door open for you, politely offering, "After you, my lady."

Lucien pulling out a chair for you, smiling and saying, "My lady."

Lucien, sitting on the bed in a sprawl, letting his gaze roam over you, commanding, "Strip!"

Lucien raising a brow when he scents your arousal, purring, "Is it my cock or my tongue that you want?"

Lucien smiling, "This flower field reminds me of you - never-ending beauty."

Lucien holding you in his arms, squeezing you tightly, mumbling "I love you. I love you so damn much."

Lucien, hoisting your legs over his shoulder, nose teasing your clit, tongue driving deep into you, groaning, "You taste absolutely divine, my mate."

Lucien holding out his hand out for you to grab, "Sunshine."

Lucien, brows arched in an almost cocky way when turning to you, sleeves rolled up, standing in a lake, a fish in his hand, smirking, "Impressed?"

Lucien dragging his thumb over your lower lip, pushing inside, smirking, "Such a pretty little mouth."

Lucien breathing hard and fighting the tears when you trace your index finger over his scar, telling him how beautiful he is.

Lucien kneeling between your thighs, gaze heated and trained on your centre, purring, "You’re always so wet for me."

Lucien thrusting into you from behind, fingers threaded into your hair, tilting your head back, growling, "Grab the headboard, little minx."

Lucien kissing your knuckles, saying, "You’re re perfect the way you are - I love everything about you, every small detail about you. I love you."

Lucien, admiring you and whispering to himself, "Truly the luckiest male alive."

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 days

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I swear, if someone offered that, it would be my last day on this planet. I would literally faint and never wake up again lol

“Is it okay if I draw fanart of your fanfic?👉🏼👈🏼”

My brother in Christ we shall have a spring wedding

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 days

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thank you to @b-astora for creating this beautiful commission for me💗 I wish I had the words to express how in love I am with this art. I hope we all love soft sweet tender Azris as much as I do🫶🏻

@erisweek2023

Please do not repost, reblogs welcome :)

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 days

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“𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭,” 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒍𝒚. “𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩,” 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒅, “𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞.” 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅, 𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓. “𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞?”

Fight me, but forehead kisses is their thing. Lucien loves it.

for @elucienweekofficial

find my art.

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 days

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genderswapping high lords: tarquin edition

he'll always be my favourite

#so impressive

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 days

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delivery

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ 💌🫧💛🍪💕🌈✨🌸

You are so swet, this made me so happy💛💛💛💛

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 days

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Chapter 14: Into the lion's den /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N enters Koschei's lair and finally confirms some suspicions

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Again mentions of trauma and grief.

Notes: I'm so glad that I have almost all the chapters written cuz my fingers are fucking useless now and I can't write 🙄

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

The dark living room was immediately illuminated by faelights, papers scattered around the table, potions and a liquid simmering in a cauldron near the fire. She scrunched her nose at the rotten smell. A screeching, like a trapped creature sounded somewhere behind the closed doors that led to the basement, she shivered thinking what could be suffering in his hands.

Drawings adorned the walls, receipts and terrifying creatures. Her breath hitched as she recognized the circle with wyrd marks used to summon the ridderak. This was even more scary than Baba Yellowleg’s tent, the Matron would send her there regularly to check on the older witch and her home always made her bones cold.

“So..” He cleared his throat, those golden eyes turned to her direction, pinning her in place. “Tell me what. What troubles your heart?” He once again extended his hand and she quietly placed it onto his.

Mantyx almost gasped with the swirling of emotions that hit him when he touched her skin. Anger, hatred, pain, grief, pain was what burned brighter in that array of feelings that clouded her mind. He tried to take a look but he was met with a wall made of pure steel, unbreakable, unbendable and impenetrable.

But another thing caught his attention, singing beautifully to no one hear, a mating bond stood, he had learned everything about it in the years he was trapped there. A bond shared by two people that was stronger than everything, once the bond was accepted nothing could break it. He tugged at the string lightly, watching closely as she startled, her free hand flying to her heart. She didn’t understand what this was.

Near that cabin, a worried shadowsinger yelped in surprise as he felt a tug in his chest, like someone was pulling a string tied to his soul. Lucien looked at him with a raised eyebrow, asking him if he was alright. Azriel just shook his head, hand rubbing circles in his chest, in a soothing manner. His eyes focused back on the cabin door, he wanted to go there and kick it down, rescuing her but he knew he couldn’t.

“I see that you lost someone very important to you.” He pointed it out, going for the easiest approach, usually wasn’t hard to know what troubled people, they were too simple to read, always thinking they were good at hiding their emotions and thinking of him as a god for being able to read them like a cooking book.

“I lost everything.” She quietly replied, Y/N never really opened up to anyone after the war, just brushing their concerns off and focusing on her work to suffocate those drowning feelings. “I lost my sister, the only person that truly loved me, I couldn't even say goodbye. I lost my way, I lost myself after she was gone, and I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to what I was.”

Mantyx looked at her, the despair pungent on the tip of his tongue. The shadows in her eyes darkened as she frowned, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He took a deep breath, feeling all of her negative emotions fill the void in his chest, he had to suppress a smirk at it, he fed from negative emotions, draining them and leaving the person numb.

“You can’t ever go back, all you can do is keep going and adapt to the change.” He offered and she scoffed.

“I would give anything, do anything to get her back.” Mantyx approached her. It was like the light couldn’t reach it, being sucked into a black hole, not reflecting. If it wasn’t for his proximity she wouldn't even have noticed.

But there it was, resting with an unsettling melody, the wyrd key that opened the gate atop Ramiel, what she needed to get home. She couldn't risk getting it just now, or else he would kill her and all of their efforts would be useless.

“What if I told you that I can bring her back?” He offered and her eyes lifted from the key to his gold orbs. She never knew about the extent of the other Kings powers, if Erawan was that powerful she imagined how powerful Mantyx and Orcus would be.

“You can do it?” She inquired, doubt started to coat her thoughts, she missed Asterin, what if she could see her one last time, or even better, get her back fully?

“You just need to do me a simple favor in return.” She closed her eyes, that was the only way. She shook her head in agreement.

“What do you need?” She opened her eyes, determination burning in that gaze. “I’ll do anything.”

“Bring me Nesta Archeron.” He said and she nodded, Mantyx smiled. His hand extended towards the door that slowly opened to reveal the green island he lived in. “I’ll be waiting for your return.”

Y/N bowed to him, her eyes tracing the key that moved up and down with each breath he gave. She turned around, slowly walking outside, she could still feel his eyes on her when she crossed the bridge, so she didn’t dare to look to where she knew they would be, she kept walking forward until her frame disappeared from his line of sight. Just then she let out the breath she was holding.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel and the others reached her halfway back to the Manor, she hadn't even noticed she had walked so much, her tensed muscles and shivering body were the only indications of the fear she had felt alone in that cabin. Azriel touched her arm, making her spin in her heels, collapsing against his chest. Shuddering breaths left her lips as she tried to calm herself.

“Did he hurt you?” She shook her head and Azriel breathed with relief, his shadows moved around her in a protecting way, ready to strike at anyone who dared get too close to her.

“We should go back, we don’t know what is lurking around in those woods.” Lucien advised, also worried about the fragile form that clung to Azriel for dear life.

They all started to head back, being surprised by the giant wyvern baring his teeth at them, poison dripping from his fangs, he looked anxious, like he felt all of her distress through the connection he shared with his rider, and by the way she pushed Azriel out of the way, stumbling until her chest and forehead were pressed against his nose, he probably felt.

Meraxes instantly relaxed with her touch, sniffing her scent and declaring she was alright. Y/N sobbed against him, her hands rubbing his leathery skin up and down, until she calmed herself down.

“I’m okay, I promise.” She breathed and the wyvern nodded, giving one last look to the males before stepping aside and allowing their access to the house. She let go of him, following the rest of them inside, plopping herself on the couch.

“Why did you go inside? You could be dead now.” Lucien slowly started, worry filled his voice, Y/N had become someone important to him and he couldn’t fathom the idea of her being killed by that damned monster.

“We needed answers.” She simply replied, shrugging.

“And did you get them?” Jurian asked, leaning against the wall that led to the kitchen.

“His name is Mantyx, the middle brother of Erawan and Orcus, a Valg King.” She started, all of the males looked at her. “He was the one who summoned the ridderak that attacked me, he was after Nesta and her powers.”

“Does he have a key?” Azriel asked, his eyebrows furrowed as the engines in his brain worked.

“He carries it around his neck.” Lucien cursed loudly, how would they get it?

“How did you get out?” Jurian once again asked all the right questions.

“I promised him that I would get Nesta.” Azriel's eyes widened. “I just needed to get out to tell you all this, chill.” She said to him, her blue eyes piercing him back in place and he didn’t dare to argue.

“What do we do now?” Lucien inquired, rubbing his temples.

“I don’t know about you, but i’ll have a bath, i’m feeling disgusting.” She said getting up, leaving the males behind her.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her chest ached as she sat in the scalding water, trying to rub all those feelings away from her, but it was useless. She then reached for the book Morrigan had found in the Hewn City, not having time to read it in the trip until now. She opened the book and focused on the fancy handwriting, allowing her brain to shut down from the real world and just pay attention to the words in those pages.

“It was during the night that he came, talking with a sweet voice, promises of a better world and absolution to those who bowed to him and allowed his angels a home. The god of conquest was how they called him.

He brought her, with dark hair and dark eyes, she feeded from life and used the remains to build weapons made of human bones. They called her The Weaver, and her twin, The Bone Carver, one more terrifying than the other. They weren’t angels, they were the gods of death, draining life from the earth and eating our souls.

They talked about how lucky we were, claiming to be princes and princesses from their homeworld. No one knew how they came or where they came from, but all we knew was that it was all related to that necklace, made of a dark stone and with an unknown shape. They had come from the north, many guessed they were a plague sent by the Night Court to terrorise us, but even the High Lord feared them, he couldn't control them, no one could, so they took what they pleased.

It was Celeste Vanserra, the Fireborn that brought us hope, the most powerful fire carrier the world has ever seen. She locked The Bone Carver with the help of the cauldron in the prison first. This made the fae wars easier, but their army was too big to be brought down, so they had to change their strategy.

Divide and conquest is what they called it. They managed to separate The Weaver, and once again, with the help of the cauldron, Celeste and her fire locked Stryga in the woods, in a cabin no one dared to get close to. Whenever a general fell, their army fell with them.

The High Lords followed Celeste to the battlefield, following her command and doing what she said. The final battle was in the lake, where Celeste used her powers to create a fire circle around Koschei and his monsters, trapping him inside, not knowing this was his biggest weakness, her fire was the only thing that could kill him. But before Celeste could, he killed her, piercing her heart with a sword.

The High Lords seeing their strongest fall, decided that they weren’t enough to kill Koschei, so they used the cauldron imbued by their powers to trap his soul to the island. As long as this world still exists, Koschei cannot be killed, his soul is bound to the Earth itself. Only the power of the cauldron or the fire of Celeste can free him from his prison and finally kill him.

With their failure to end the biggest threat our world has ever seen, they erased Celeste’s name from history. If no one remembered her, no one would remember how weak they were compared to Koschei. But her fire was still alive in the blood of her offspring, and the family Vanserra is the closest we have to a chance of killing him, unfortunately those who don’t learn their history tend to repeat it.”

Y/N gasped, the water already cold as she discarded the book and jumped out of the tub, opening the door to her and Azriel’s room. He sat on the bed, eyeing her up and down, following the droplets of water that ran down her curves, but her sombre expression brought his eyes back to her face, ignoring the temptation of looking down.

“What happened?” He asked and she took a deep breath.

“I know how to kill him.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @fieldofdaisiies @blackgirlmagicforever @a-frog-with-a-laptop @going-through-shit @asweetblueberry2

@roses-r-red54330 @mis-lil-red @sheblogs @hibye02 @impossibelle

@glitterypirateduck @zeroangelo13 @sekiro1310 @nelapeach14 @annamariereads16

@just-here-reading @celestialend @donttellthecats @scatteredstardustt @snoopyspace

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@a-cup-of-nightshade @faridathefairy @bubybubsters @krowiathemythologynerd @joey-hoey

#this story has me in a chokehold ever since you started writing it #i adore it #azriel #azriel x reader

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fieldofdaisiies · 3 days

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— . autumn heir

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fieldofdaisiies · 3 days

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azriel x eris | 3,2k words | warnings: domestic violence | masterlist

The chilling water laps against his skin, each splash sending a shockwave of icy cold through his body that slowly manages to cool down his overheated blood.

Tears mix with droplets of water on his face, tasting salty when they slip through his parted lips. His hair falls free from its restraint, the leather strap now somewhere discarded in the water.

In damp waves, his long auburn hair cascades down his back and toned chest. Eris dips his head under the water again, stays there for a moment, letting the cool liquid fully embrace him, hold him, until he appears above the surface and draws in a deep inhale, filling his lungs with the crisp air. He uses both hands to smooth back his hair, face turned skywards, eyes closed.

He is completely alone, nothing but silence surrounding him, but the shadowsinger’s voice is loud and clear within his mind when he is taken back in time. “Keep Morrigan‘s name out of your filthy mouth.”

That’s what Azriel told him after he had tackled him to the ground during the High Lord’s meeting before the war with Hybern. It had nothing to do with what Azriel said to him when he held him to the ground, the whole weight of the tall Illyrian pressing down on him, but the closeness of his body that made the bond snap in place for Eris.

Back then, Eris completed ignored the mention of Mor, his thoughts only swirled around the awareness that seeped into every fibre of his body, and the fear of anyone in the room finding out about it, scenting it — it would have been a catastrophe, and every day since the damn High Lord’s meeting he has been thanking the Mother that no one has figured out his biggest secret so far.

It happened the moment Azriel’s hands reached for him; the closeness of their bodies pulled a lever within him that made him see Azriel for what he truly was. His mate. For what he truly is. Nothing has changed. He hasn’t rejected the bond, and even if he did it wouldn’t change anything about the fact that Azriel is his—

Mate. How fucking twisted this all is, Eris thinks. No matter how hard he tries, he can't stop thinking about Azriel. The smell of the shadowsinger still lingers in his nose, and the skin where Azriel touched him still tingles from the soft caress of his callused hands. It feels like they're meant to be together, like two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together. Two sides of the same coin - equals, a match that has been made for one another.

“Because that’s what it’s like when you have a fucking mating bond!”

With his loud and frustrated groan, he startles the ducks swimming nearby. They squawk and flap away, disturbed by the sudden loud noise.

He tries again to push Azriel from his mind, finally wanting to get rid of those thoughts that plague him, but he doesn’t manage to do so. Azriel gets under his skin so easily and Eris knows that despite the hate, his soul begs him to claim the shadowsinger as his.

He can’t ignore it any longer. Azriel is his mate, and nothing will change that, not even their hate for each other. He can’t stop thinking about Azriel, and when the shadowsinger is close, or worse, kisses him, his brain circulates short and all worries are forgotten. He just gives himself to the spymaster without a care in the world, until the moment is over and all the complications and regrets and worries crash down on him like an avalanche, snowing him under a large pile of problems amd remorse.

Eris slowly glides through the water until more and more of his pale skin is exposed to the chilly air, gooseflesh appearing all over his skin. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, throbbing with need, but he wouldn’t dare touch himself to the thought of Azriel — never would he do so. It would only give way to fantasies he tries so hard to avoid. It would give him hope, and Eris is not one to dwell on hope.

The Autumn court heir turns his head, and cranes his neck. He rolls back his shoulder. His eyes try to focus on a place in the distance, lids swollen and heavy.

Suddenly, he sees it bright and clear, though, almost like it is exactly the fateful day again —520 years ago— and it sends a bolt of icy cold right through his chest, almost like the blade of a dagger cutting into his heart.

“One of your Illyrian brutes will pick you up.”

Disdain laces his features when he stares down at her, all exposed and wounded skin. He isn’t disgusted about what she had done, how she had ruined their union, only about the measures her family has taken, what they had done to her.

“Thank y—” Morrigan‘s pale, dry lips close when Eris cuts her off by holding up his hand.

“Don‘t thank me. I only need to get rid of my garbage before it grows roots.”

Hurt flashes in the female’s eyes. The emotion is so strong, so pure, it wrenches Eris‘ heart. Nevertheless he needs to keep his mask on, needs to pretend to be exactly how everyone pictures him. Cruel. Lethal. Mean.

“Let me thank you, Eris.” Morrigan whimpers when she tries to move and Eris fights the urge to reach for her, take care of each of her wounds and tell her she will be alright. But this is not like him, this is not who he should be.

He shakes his head. “I’m not doing this for you, you are a slut and brought shame upon me and my family. I need to get rid of you as quickly as possible before more people hear about it or worse, see you like this.”

Despite all the pain, the shame, the cold, her brown eyes meet his and she clenches her jaw. She pins him with a look, grinding her teeth hard, to bite down on the sob that threatens to escape her. “You are not as bad as you make everyone believe, Eris.”

Eris demeanour threatens to falter for a second, but he doesn’t allow it. “Shut your mouth!”

“And your secret…it is safe with me.”

How would she—? How could she—? A kernel of anxiousness blooms in his chest about other people knowing. Someone else finding out. It is his secret, only his, how could she possibly—

His distress must have been obvious in his eyes, and Morrigan can read it all there and says, “My power is truth. You are just like me. We are more similar than you think.”

Fear turns into anger, and Eris spits onto the ground, right next to her head. “I‘m nothing like you. Because you are scum and a slut, and someone like me could never fall so low and hit rock-bottom so hard.”

Everything after it turned into a blur. Eris doesn’t remember much about what happened next, only Morrigan’s tears that ran down her cheeks, and so much blood. There was so much blood. All around her.

He knows that he stayed there, not with her but close by to make sure she really gets picked up and doesn’t die before. Azriel picked her up.

He swallows against a knot in his throat, there’s a dull ache at the back of his mouth. His eyes burn when he forces them close to clamp down on the tears. He lets the wind dry him (he has no towel after all), then dons his clothes – undergarments, shirt, breeches, jacket, socks and boots. And lastly, he ties his still damp hair back into a low ponytail with a new leather strap.

A cold huff parts his lips. All these years, and only Morrigan knows his secret. Azriel does know too, but only because of his actions, never because he talked about it. And Azriel only knows about Eris’ desire, not what he truly feels in his heart.

Eris finds himself wondering why Morrigan hasn’t told anyone. Maybe because she is afraid he will reveal her secret as well which makes him wonder…

The Night Court is probably equally traditional about such beliefs, not accepting them, not deeming them right. For that reason, he doubts that Azriel told anyone – the brute is probably equally ashamed of their interactions as he is.

Eris arrives in the Spring Court a few minutes later. Ignoring his original idea to ride here, he simply decided to winnow.

He finds himself standing in calf-high grass that reaches almost up to the edge of his boots. Using his hand, he shields his face from the burning sunlight when he takes in the building in front of him, veiled in ivy and roses that have lost their bloom. Nevertheless, they stretch across the whole front of the building, and probably all around.

Eris isn’t the biggest fan of Spring – not because of its ruler, but rather because everything blossoms and blooms, and there are bugs and bees everywhere, buzzing and humming. He prefers Autumn, loves Autumn more than anything else.

Eris rolls back his shoulders when he sets out for the ginormous building. He knocks, rasping his knuckles against the large white door, knowing it is useless anyway. He could have winnowed right into the building, but he is male with manners, he wouldn’t just march into Tamlin’s home like that.

No answer comes and so Eris slowly opens the door, revealing the corridor, only illuminated by a few strays of sunlight creeping in through the thick curtains that frame the windows. Cobwebs grace the walls and ceiling and a grimace tugs on the corners of Eris’ mouth.

The building has come down, Tamlin no longer taking care of it – he is a broken male, and it also shows in his home.

Eris lifts his hand to brush away some of the spiderwebs, grinding his teeth hard – he just dislikes those…insects.

Clearing his throat from all the dust and maybe also mould clogging it, he lifts his eyes and spots the blonde male, whom he once used to call a friend, through a half-open door at the end of the corridor. His head rests atop his arm on a table, his shirt is unbuttoned from what Eris can make out, and dirty.

Eris scrunches his nose, an awful stench lying in the air, reeking of dead animal. Eris fights against his grimace, and hopes that his loud footsteps and the creaking floorboards announce his presence and he doesn’t startle Tamlin too much.

He pities the High Lord of Spring, wonders if he will ever find his way back into life. After everything that has happened to him, Eris doubts it though. He wishes to aid the High Lord, but at the same time doesn’t know how – it isn’t his problem to deal with, but maybe once he is High Lord himself, he will find a way to support the male who used to be his friend in a time when no one else was. A male who gave his little brother shelter and who became a friend to Lucien when no one else was…

“Tamlin.” No formal greeting is necessary, Eris thinks, as the High Lord of Spring would in his desolate state not appreciate it anyway.

Tamlin lifts his head and turns to Eris, no hint of surprise on his face that the male is suddenly standing in his home – he must have heard him. A stubble graces his jaw, his eyes swollen and empty when they lock on Eris.

“Is it done? Are you here to deliver the happy message?” Tamlin wipes a bandaged hand through his hair, no longer golden, now greyish, matted, and straightens up. His shirt is indeed unbuttoned, and a slash reaches from his left pectoral down to his abdomen.

Eris raises his brow, but before he gives the High Lord an answer, he unlinks his hands from behind his back and points at the wound, leaking blood and puss. “Who did this to you?”

“Don’t act like you care.” Tamlin shakes his head, but then realises there is no point in arguing and so he points at the animal, probably a deer, lying on the kitchen counter. This animal must be the reason for the awful stench within the manor.

“But since you are so nosy, it didn’t really want to be caught.”

Eris bows his head in answer, then folds his hands behind his back again. “It is not done yet.”

Tamlin snorts. “Time to grow some balls then?”

“Tamlin, there is no need for you to be rude to me. I’m not your enemy and I have never been. I’m not here for any quarrel.” Eris takes another step into the room, closer to the High Lord of Spring. “I am here to ask a favour of you.”

The blond male raises a brow. “That is?”

“In case my brothers need a place to go…if things don’t go as planned…”

“They can come here.”

“Thank you.” Eris dips his chin, trying to hold Tamlin’s gaze, but the Spring Court male lifts his hand. Slowly, he shakes his head and Eris is sure he can spot some wetness appearing in Tamlin’s green eyes.

“Don’t thank me,” the High Lord says in a hoarse voice. “I failed Lucien and lost the only person who really cared about me, it’s the least I can do.” He clears his throat. “You can leave now, Eris.”

Eris understands his dismissal and respects it, out of politeness and gratitude. He dips his chin once more and pivots away from the High Lord. Eris is almost out of the door when he turns to look back over his shoulder.

Tamlin is still looking at him and then a smile appears on his lips, one that doesn’t reach his eyes, but it is a smile – something no one has really seen on Tamlin’s face in the past years. “Long may you reign, Eris Vanserra, future High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Eris folds a hand over his heart and bows at the waist, gratitude visible within his amber eyes before mist starts to swirl around him.

He isn’t prepared for what awaits him at the forest house.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Only minutes later those same eyes that have formerly displayed gratitude now take in the cruelty of what has happened in the meantime in the Autumn Court, during his absence.

A shout splits his lips, one that he wanted to hold back but couldn’t, the sight too awful.

"That‘s your doing," Beron drawls, smirking when his eyes light up with venomous fire. "You brought this upon him."

Eris can only stare wide-eyed at his brother kneeling on the ground, the blood leaking from his mouth, the bruised eyes, the burned skin on his torso, his shirt ripped, burned.

Eris’ body feels like caving in, his entire being shaking so hard his head starts to feel dizzy. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears when he realises what has been done to his little brother. His jacket slips out of his hold, landing next to him on the ground.

"My second-oldest is a traitor just like my oldest." Beron tsks and before Eris can protect himself a flash of icy heat hits his arm and the side of his chest.

He falls to the ground, crying out from the pain erupting in his arm and in his kneecaps. It hurts so much, it hurts more than the lashes, the cuts, because Beron is now using his powers – the powers of a High Lord.

Despite the pain, Eris tips up his chin and clenches his jaw. He is stronger than this, and within him he already has the powers of the future High Lord. He won’t let his father win. Even if he can’t fight him right now, he won’t allow himself to show vulnerability.

“How–” he breathes, forcing his eyes to meet his father‘s, he allows him to see the disdain within them. The hate.

Beron stalks forward, not deigning his second oldest a look. Kallax has shifted a little, now leaning bloody and bruised against the wall, his gaze focused on Eris even across the distance. He keeps calm, his arm folded over his wounded chest and the sight of him shatters Eris’ soul. He has always tried to protect his brothers, has always taken the pain for him. This is upon him now. He brought Kallax into this situation.

Beron snorts, then tilts his head to the side. “How I found out about your secret little meeting?” the High Lord of Autumn tabs his index finger against his chin, then smiles wickedly.

Eris‘ chest heaves with a deep inhale, the gaping wound on his arm, aching fiercely. Beron only laughs when his eyes dip to his son‘s arm.

“I have spies in the war camps, and what a surprise that both my oldest and second oldest left at the same time and were nowhere to be found anymore.”

Panic sprouts to life within Eris’ chest, so strong his stomach coils, its content souring. Helpless. He feels helpless. Is helpless. It was all for nothing. Every damn thing he has done to bring him closer to ending Beron‘s life…it was all for nothing. It ends here. Nothing will ever change, not until Beron dies which now will probably never happen.

This is the end of the Autumn Court. This is the end of Prythian.

Bile crawls up his throat and before he can stop himself, he empties out his stomach onto the dark marble floor. Beron can only laugh at the sight of it, taking a step to the side, further away from the puddle of puke in front of his son.

He surrounds it, walking to Eris with fast steps. Another shock of icy heat hits him, this time in the from of Beron’s palm connecting with his cheek.

“Traitor,” Beron spits into his face, saliva flying from his mouth.

Eris hates himself more than anyone else in this moment. He has been too careless, too reckless in his endeavours. No fault falls upon Kallax, he must have broken under torture — he would never blame him for that. He brought his little brother into this, brought this upon him…

Beton crouches down when he is only mere inches away from his oldest. Lethal calm laces his features. He yanks back his head by grabbing a handful of his hair, then assess Eris, slowly but with a predatory gaze, eyes sharp and piercing.

“You thought you could go behind my back, huh?” Eris tightens the hold he has on Eris’ hair. “You thought I wouldn't notice that you are trying to remove the troops from the Summer Court border?” Beron clicks his tongue, his grasp tightening. “You thought they wouldn’t be necessary and that I am driven by fear and not in my right mind, is that right?”

Awareness fills his entire being and despite the pain a kernel of hope and thankfulness takes root in his heart.

Kallax lied for him.

Despite being punished and tortured, his brother lied for him.

“You are my brother, Eris,” he had told him. And meant it. Eris sucks in a sharp breath, but Beron isn’t done. The words that leave his mouth next make Eris throw up once more.

“Oh, and the pretty little spy of yours – what’s her name?” Beron tabs his index finger against his chin. “She can rot in the dungeons until she is ready to speak, which I won’t have to wait long for…faebane is a cruel thing, right my dear son?”

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#acotar #acosf #azriel #azriel x eris #azris #eris vanserra

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fieldofdaisiies · 5 days

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Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 7

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2k words | warnings: mentions of trauma | masterlist

Your neck is aching when you throw it back and release a loud groan. Your eyes are already burning from staring into books the whole day. Outside Velaris has already entered the night – many hours ago–, but you are still sitting here, your back sore from being bent over the books for hours.

The orange candle on the table, the only light source in the living room of the house of wind at this point, has almost burnt down to nothing, but you need it just a few more minutes.

You are so close, you know it. The solution is right there, you just need to grasp it.

Reaching forward, you place your hand on the onyx box, sharp nails piercing into it. With the index finger of your other hand you trail over some ancient spells written in lettering that is now longer used. The spells are most likely witches runes, you are not familiar with them, but with the help of Nesta and maybe also Amren, you will be able to open the box.

You can feel it. You can feel how the small casket reacts to your touch, to the idea of being opened. It is burning with emotion, so hot your palm heats.

You are so close – so close to opening this damn box. And so close to freedom. You will be allowed to roam freely when this is over, no one will ever lock you away again. Once the box is open you will demand your amulet back. With it your powers will return and then you are gone. To the continent or wherever the wind takes you.

Gone…involuntarily your thoughts wander to the shadowsinger. He is also gone. Has been gone for a few days now. Gone just like back then. When he left you behind, broken and bloody. He did not even check to see if you are alright. If your wounds are too deep. If you will survive.

Rhysand’s words hollow in your mind, loud, strong, and you force your eyes closed, fighting against the tears.

“My father…he threatened the other female in Azriel’s life. The only other female he would have given his life for. This was the only way to protect you both.”

All those years, you have wondered what Azriel’s reasons were. Why he betrayed you like this. Why he never came to see you. You don’t know if you will ever be able to forgive him, but what you know is that you want to give him another chance to talk. You want to hear it from him. Everything. Every little thing he has to say. You want him to talk about his mother, about how he locked you in the Prison, the moments after it, the moment when he found out what the Harp was capable of. He owes you all the explanations and you owe him your time to listen.

You shake your head, directing every thought that threatens to stray into Azriel’s direction at matter at hand again – Koschei’s onyx box. You need to open it and you are so close. You flip over to the next page, finding more cryptic lettering. Your eyes are closed when your fingers trail over the words, the runes, the pictures and you feel it. This is it.

Jumping up, the chair scratches over the ground with a loud noise. You need to find Nesta, and you need to find her now. You really hope she is not currently otherwise occupied with a certain general of the Illyrian armies because you really need to talk to her.

Blowing out the candle, you turn swiftly and head for the corridor, running as fast as your feet can take you, your thin, silken gown swishing around your legs. You head up the stairs, towards Nesta and Cassian’s main bedroom, but stop dead in your tracks when your eyes land on him. When his moan of agony pierces through your mind.

The door to his bathroom is open, his bloody chest exposed, large wings draped on the ground, his hands braced on the edges of the sink.

You can’t tear your eyes away and fully on your own accord your feet start to walk, no longer moving you towards Nesta’s room, but to him. You can’t stop yourself, it is like something is pulling you to him. And you know what it is – the tug on your chest. Before his betrayal you had loved the idea of it. Then everything came crashing down, and you hated it. You have been clamping down on the feeling of it for centuries, pushing it away, but now seeing him bloody and wounded –seeing your mate bloody and wounded– fire ignites deep within your soul, the bond once more coming alive inside of you.

“Azriel.” Your voice trembles, heart squeezing at the gaping wounds marring his entire torso, dripping with blood and puss. It looks awful and painful. Your fingers curl towards your palms.

He whips his head into your direction, and with a crooked smile, he says, “It isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“Bullshit,” you answer and step into the bathroom. “You look like you have been attacked by a beast, those wounds are deep. You need a healer to look over them.” When your eyes lifts, they clash with his.

“Don’t act like you care,” he mumbles, holding your gaze.

“You have no right to snap at me, Azriel,” you answer in a stern voice, “not after everything that has happened between us, not after everything you did to me.”

“I am sorry.”

“I know.” You close the door behind you and fully move into the room, reaching for the cloth on the sink that is no longer white, but has no a pinkish colour, stained from all the blood. You clasp it tightly in your hand, and without saying a word, attach the cloth to Azriel’s wounded skin. He sucks in a sharp intake of air, then holds his breath and lets you do your work. “I am ready to talk, Azriel.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his fingers curl around the edge of the sink, scarred knuckles turning white. “I needed time, I needed time to adapt, to understand, to progress, but I am ready to talk now.” You tip your head back and meet his hazel eyes, a flicker of hope within them now that you revealed that you are ready to talk to him.

“Rhysand told me about your mother.”

“His father threatened to execute her. I needed to protect her, but I need you to know that I didn’t choose her over you. I was…torn. I only had a few people in my life that I loved, and risking one’s life for that of another…I only tried to–”

“Keep us both safe. I know this now.” Your hand moves lower, brushing over a wound on his lower belly that disappears behind the pants of his Illyrian leathers.

“I was trying to get you out. I was looking for ways once all threats were gone, but…only when we found the Harp I had a solution on how to do it. I knew how I was going to get you.”

You nod slowly, and put the cloth aside. “Let’s patch you up and then we talk properly, yes?”

It is a big step you are taking, but you know you have to do it. You finally have to talk to him. Your heart is racing both with panic about being so close to the person that has hurt you most in your life, but also with relief that you can finally be near him without feeling like the air to breathe has been stolen from you. He still unnerves you, but now that you have learned more about why he acted like this, talking to him seems easier.

You have to talk to him. For yourself. You need to know everything. Find out what really were his reasons.

“In my room?” Azriel asks in a calm voice.

You nod again and set out to do exactly what you said – patching him up.

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

“He showed me what he would do to her. All the cruel things. And all the cruel things he would do to you. He invaded my mind and showed it to me.”

You find yourself nodding again, tears lining your eyes. You sit next to him on the bed, Azriel’s head resting on the pillow, close to your hips, his chest now bandaged, his body covered by the thin bed sheet. “I had no choice.”

You want to tell him that everyone always has a choice, but in this case, this was truly the only way to do it. You have been listening to him for the past hour or even longer, soft moonlight filtering in through the curtain-framed windows. It is the only lightsource, but you don’t need more. You close your eyes, your soul for the first time calm and at ease in his presence. Azriel has been talking the whole time, a rarity you think, because centuries ago when you were together he was always rather calm.

“Did it really hurt you to put me in the Prison?”

You feel the bed shift next to you, and a moment later his scarred digits brush your hand. “What a question…” You can hear how he draws in a deep inhale and his hand closes tightly around yours. “It tore me apart. It felt like someone ripped out my heart, and tore it into pieces. Like my soul lost its life, like it was diminished and I could never ever feel happiness again. All the years, the centuries that passed, where I couldn’t free you, destroyed more parts of my soul.”

You slide down on the pillow, not letting go of his hand, until you are on eye-level with him. His head is turned to you, and he is already looking at you when you open your lids.

“I knew the first moment I could find a way to free you, to get you out, I would do it. You were bound to the Prison by the High Lord’s magic, you couldn’t get out alone, not even if I had tried to. It was only possible through the Harp – the Dead Trove’s magic is stronger than any High Lord’s.”

You deep your chin, nodding slowly, the back of your mouth aching. “I thought you hated me, you loathed and feared me just like everyone else. That our whole relationship was a false-pretence.”

His throat bobs. “I didn’t fake a single thing – every I love you, every kiss, every hug, whenever we made love, I meant it all. And I meant when I said that I would protect you…I never meant to hurt you. To destroy you.”

You shift closer on the bed. “Do you know why your soul hurt after you put me into the Prison?”

“Because I lost the love of my life.” He pushes up on his elbows, groaning due to the wounds on his chest that have not yet healed. He shifts onto his side, now looking directly at you, but you shake your head.

“No, Azriel,” you say, “your soul hurt because we were mates and the bond broke the moment you closed the gates to my cell.”

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