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yearning-for-autumn · 3 months

Note

So, here is my humble request 👀:

Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.

When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.

Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.

So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.

I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻

Would That I -- Part 1

A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!

Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health

Word Count: 3,638

Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.

Part 2 Part 3

Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.

“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.

“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”

Rhysand cleared his throat.

“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.

“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”

His brow furrowed.

“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.

“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.

You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.

You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.

---

In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.

You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.

He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.

“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.

“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.

---

As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.

Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.

He loosed a breath.

“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.

“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Is Cass--?”

“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.

“Ok.”

Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.

“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”

You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.

“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”

You scoff.

“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”

Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.

“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”

Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.

“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.

Rhysand sighed.

“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”

---

It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.

You sat up worried.

“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”

“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”

You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.

“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.

You snuggled up to your eldest brother.

“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”

Azriel tucked you under his arm.

“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.

---

Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.

He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.

Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.

“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.

“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”

Eris rolled his eyes.

“Just show me your plans, Ash.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.

“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.

In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.

He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.

It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.

When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.

Asher sighed,

“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.

“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.

“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”

“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.

“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”

“She is my mate.” Eris growled.

“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.

“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.

“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”

Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.

He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.

---

The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.

Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.

Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.

Disgust.

What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.

Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.

Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.

Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.

“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”

You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.

“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”

You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.

“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.

A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.

Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.

Would that you could be half as lucky.

Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.

---

There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.

“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.

“Eris will be there.” You said.

“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.

“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”

And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.

Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.

In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.

Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—

“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the magic word.”

“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.

A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...

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pit-and-the-pen · 22 days

Text

Eris- Panic Attack

Eris x mate reader

Pre-established relationship, I’m going to say for the context of his, Eris has panic attacks from time to time.

Summary: Beron has recently died and Eris insisted on cleaning out the throne room himself. He didn’t think the memories of his father would still haunt the room.

Warnings: Panic attack explained pretty in-depth, mentions of cannon typical parental abuse, Beron mention

WC: ~1.5k

————————————————————————

The heavy mahogany doors swung open as Eris pushed on them. He stepped into the familiar space and steadied his breathing. Beron had been dead for a little over a month now. Eris fully stepping into the role of High Lord. Eventually, he would have to start holding court, but not before he wiped any trace of his father from the room. Not that there was much of him in this room. Despite being high lord of Autumn for centuries, the room held a certain degree of emptiness that had nothing to do with his father’s passing. It was as devoid of emotion as his own father.

After looking around Eris found something that made even his hot blood run cold.

He could feel the whip as it bit into his back. Scorching angry red lines into his back. He couldn’t even place the action that had angered his father this time. But one thing led to another and Beron had said something about disloyalty and disappointment. Eris wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying out. So he bit his tongue so hard it bled, repressing the screams he desperately needed to release.

Lucien was kneeling in front of the throne, white shirt torn open. Bright red blood seeped into the fabric. Clinging to his brother's skin and staining the stark fabric, a gut turning maron. Eris couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. Couldn’t form the pleas for his father to stop. He was just a boy, barley 16 years old. Even his other brothers had the decency to look horrified by their fathers actions. Lucien did cry out. The action had earned him more lashings that the servants had to hold him down for. He was going to pass out. His head slumping slightly as his father landed another blow. Just as Eris thought he found the right words, his father paused. He surveyed Lucien like he was nothing more than a piece of meat. A callous tone as he simply said “take him to his room” was all the acknowledgment Lucien was granted by the High Lord. The rest of the siblings stood in a line, silence filling the crowded room. Beron ran his hand along the whip, shaking Lucien’s blood off of his hand. He had the nerve to act disgusted by it. As if the blood would taint his hands simply by touching it. Eris had never felt fury like this before. At Beron. At himself. At his complaint mother who just stood by Berons side and didn’t so much as try to convince him to stop his cruel punishment. Eris declared right then and there that when the time came, he would make sure that Berons death would be at his hands.

Eris willed his eyes to pull into focus. He blinked against the dark that bit at the edge of his vision. His hands would not stop shaking as he held the whip. He couldn't let go of it for some reason, like the leather hilt had burned his flesh to it.

He had regretted his decision to enter the room at that very moment but some prideful part of him demanded he should be the one to do it. What he hadn’t considered was the memories this room held. Memories that couldn’t go away at just the mere passing of his father. One small object in the room and that’s all it took to reduce the recently crowned high lord to nothing more than a scared babe.

His breathing. He needed to control his breathing but it felt like sandpaper as he clutched for some semblance of rationality. He couldn’t suck in air fast enough and he knew that he was hyperventilating but couldn’t stop it. He felt his knees starting to buckle under him. A firm hand slamming against the nearest wall was all he could do to stop from falling to his knees right there. The whip finally falling from his hands as he felt a cold sweat break over his entire body.

The blood roaring in his ears drowned out the sound of the door swinging open again. He all but jumped out of his skin at the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. You rubbed gentle circles into the back of his neck and that was all it took for Eris to fall to his knees. Your soft touch was such a stark contrast to the phantom pain he felt rip across his body only moments before.

When he finally had the strength to open his eyes, he found you sitting on your knees in front of him. Your own eyes filled with sympathy and it was enough to break him. Years ago that look would have him storming off, terrified of how that one look seemed to stare into his very soul and rip him apart. But now, he used your eyes to ground him in the present. The fact that you were here in this room was enough to send his mind into overdrive the need to protect you from some long gone force took over his mind.

He must have sent that feeling down the body because he felt a calming wave of love in response. You didn’t move for a second, seeming to fully take in the situation that was unfolding in front of you.

As you had done so many times before, you slowly lifted Eris’ hands and gently put it on your own chest. You took deep breaths and Eris found himself struggling to time his with yours. It took a few tries but he felt his lungs open up. The scratch still there but manageable as he all but panted in time with your steady breathing.

Once he got his breathing to a more steady rhythm, you went to remove his hand from your chest and Eris simply laid his free hand on top of yous. Unwilling to let the comfort of your heartbeat disappear. You didn’t shake him off, instead you shuffled closer to him until your knees were pressed against his own. He watched you move in slow motion as you tenderly placed your forehead against his. He closed his eyes as he gulped down breaths of your smell. Caramel and cinnamon. His lips ghosted over yours, not truly kissing but enough that your breathing finally in sync and he could taste your sweet smell as you exhaled

The two of you sat like this until the trembling in his body stopped. The tension still clung into his shoulders and was already starting to give him a headache. You could pick up on that too. You were always so attentive and aware of his moods. It used to terrify him but the longer the bond held , the more he let you see his part of him. The part that wasn’t a high lord who killed his own father for a role he had been training his whole life for.

Pulling his hands free from your chest, Eris fumbled frantically to wrap his arms around you. His head going to the crook of your neck at the same time you carded your fingers into his precious red hair. He all but purred when you used your nails to scratch his scalp.

You didn’t ask what was wrong. It wasn’t necessary. All it took was that pure fear that traveled down the bond and you were sprinting through the large estate, one you were still unfamiliar with due to spending all of your time at the forest house. So all you did was offer him a small “I love you”. It didn't matter that his throat was too raw to say it back. None of that mattered. You would spend the rest of your life telling you t to him without a response if it meant he would believe those three words.

Much to your surprise, you felt the words mumble into your neck and you just held him tighter. You held him until he gave you three tight squeezes, the signal he gave you when he was back down to earth. You held his face in your hands and gave him a chaste kiss. Pulling him up to his feet, I led him out of the throne room. Letting him know that this wasn’t something he had to do today, at all or alone.

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris fluff #eris angst #acosf #acomaf #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acowar #eris x you #did I write this because I had a panic attack #yes. the answer is yes #Erie needs a hug #i love this man

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hakusins · 28 days

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T-The devil came and and she made me do terrible things and made me feel weird and and strange and maybe horny and she made me not focus on my work and gave me funny ideas and I want to draw them so bad and she’s bad right? And I had a little dooodle but I can’t attach it so uuuuuuuu

hang in there dollya !!! you can do it, you'll survive this !! i promise !!!

#also i didn't notice i had that disabled !! im so sorry #HEHEH you can send the doodle in now #BWUT UWEHHHH BHERBFHBJHERF #ITS OKAY THE DEVIL CANT HURT YOU HERE ANYMORE #THIS IS A SAFE SPACE #I HAVE MADE A RING OF SALT #WE'RE SAFE #dollya-robinprotector #dollya is so fun to draw...#shes so cute to draw crying too BHJERBFBJEF #dean answers #eri the orphan #fan art #art #mine #my fan art #my art #dol #dol related

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redbleedingrose · 3 months

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that baby girl Lucy thing could be a drabble or headcanon or whatever ur comfortable with btw 😁 or you don’t have to do anything at all with it if u don’t want! just wanted to mention it bc GIRL DAD ERIS

GIRL DAD!ERIS AND LUCIEN RECONCILLING PART 2

A/N: OKAY YES I AM SO SORRY I GOT BUSY WITH MED SCHOOL, HAD A SHELF EXAM TO TAKE AND THEN I GOT LAZY BUT IT IS HERE!

Edit: So I started writing and realized this is getting a bit long, like I am not done with this part and I am already 2.2k word in, so this will likely be a 3 or 4 part mini-series giving y'all girl dad!Eris lore! I hope you enjoy and I am sorry I had to split it up, but it seems like I had more to this story I wanted to share!

part 1

Your first letter remains unopened, buried beneath legal documents and trade deals in a locked drawer of Lucien's desk. Each week, another one of your letters is added to the ever growing pile that Lucien can't bring himself to open.

Part of him wants to rip all your attempts of communication to shreds, throw it into the fire place and forget that you and Eris exist.

The other part of him, the one that he tries to bury deep within himself, is curious, anxious really, to know what it is you have to say to him. What is it that you continue to reach out to him?

Is it a part your duty as high lady of autumn? Are you looking to start relations between Autumn and Day? Are you trying to keep your relationship to your brother in law as professional as possible? What if you are trying to get to know him? Would that be the worst thing in the world, to get to know his sister in law? He has always wanted a sister.

What if you are writing out of need? For help? What if you need asylum from his brother? Gods, he hopes not. What if Eris turned out to be the exactly like his father, cruel and abusive in his marriage to you? What if he, like Beron, was ruining Autumn court with outrageous regulations and taxes too high that most of the autumn population were left in poverty?

What if you were writing to him to brag about how well Eris has done without him, that this is the only way he will receive any updates on Eris, and to not expect anything more?

What if you are lovely and kind? What are you like? Are you good to Eris? Is he good to you? Do you make his oldest brother happy? Does he make you happy? What is Eris like now? Has he changed or is he the same paranoid male who plots conspiracies?

The lack of response from your brother in law does little to defer your efforts. You continue to write to Lucien, without skipping a beat, sending a letter to him every week, giving him updates on his brother, updates on your pregnancy, even updates on the pups Eris is raising to protect your babes in the coming months. You share with him your feelings about Eris, the story of how you met, how your mating bond had snapped abruptly and without notice, how he fought against your relationship for years until he couldn't hold back anymore, how when he finally gave in, he had made you the promise of a safer home, a safer land, a place in which his father could never lay a hand on you.

You confide in him your concerns over his brother, your fears that his duties as high lord will consume him, that Eris has anxieties about being a good father, and you are scared it will paralyze him. You tell him about the things you notice about Eris, things you think Eris doesn't know about himself. That, sometimes, Er will get a distant look in his eyes when he sees young children playing together, especially when one looks older than the other. That, sometimes, Er mumbles in his sleep, how often his name comes up while he is asleep, how Er wakes up from those same dreams gasping and clutching at his chest, how it takes hours for you to calm him after. How when Eris struggles to sleep, he stares at the family portrait, with his eyes fixated on Lucien before he comes back to bed with you at your urging.

You write to him as if he is your best friend, as if he is sitting across from you and you are just talking to him. You write to him as if you have known him for centuries.

With all of Eris' stories about his beloved brother, you feel as though you have known him for centuries.

It takes a long time for Lucien to muster the courage to open your letters. After weeks of receiving letters and storing them away without a second glance, after weeks of forcing any thoughts of the letters away, after weeks of catching himself thinking about Eris, thinking about you and Autumn court, does he finally force himself sit down to read the letters. To be done and over with it. To read the letters, and never think of you or his brother again. To give closure to that horrific chapter of his life. To have this as his final goodbye.

It takes him several minutes to unlock the drawer after he slumps into his chair by the desk. It takes him a couple of minutes to open the drawer before staring at all the papers on top of the letters. It takes him 20 minutes to pluck the letters out from beneath and toss them onto his desk. Another 30 minutes is spent of him grabbing the letters and setting it onto the side table near his hearth, pacing around his office, biting at his nails, wringing his hands, running his fingers through his long auburn hair to sit in his cozy leather chair with the letters at an arms-length. An hour is spent staring blankly into the near extinguished fire, the pops and crackles from the desperate surviving flames being the only times he blinks. Another 10 minutes of delay, spent with breathing exercises while pouring himself a two, maybe three, fingers of night court imported whiskey and taking several bated sips of the hard liquor.

After almost two hours of delay, does Lucien use the letter opener the night court general gifted him during a visiting trip, to slowly and carefully, with shaking hands, tear the seal open. Deep breathing does little to stop his pittering heart as he opens the first letter, glazed eyes racing over each sentence, each word multiple times, nearly seizing as you break the news of your pregnancy. Tears he didn’t even know were leaking down his cheeks, meeting at his chin to drip down his neck began to stream. Choked sobs with a hand clutched at his chest, your letter delicately being placed to the side as his emotions crash into him.

Weeks of pent up feelings become unrelenting waves that makes it near impossible for him to catch his breath. All of grief for the time he has missed with you and his brother, all of happiness at your pride and clear love and devotion for your mate, his brother, all of sorrow and concern for what Eris turned out to be after years of torment and unrelenting abuse, all of quiet hope for the future relationship he may have with you, with his future nieces or nephews, with his older brother, all of that is almost unbearably overwhelming. The only source of respite, coming from your gentle handwriting.

“Lucien, I implore you to take all the time you need. I will patiently be waiting for a response, whether it takes weeks or months, years or even centuries. I want a relationship with you. As does your brother. And I want our children to have a relationship with their uncle. So I will wait. And if you decide that having a relationship with us is just too impossibly painful for you, then with the deepest regret and with the most profound love, will we accept that fate as well.”

It is your own hope that pushes Lucien to read all of your other letters, whiskey set aside and forgotten. Letters that have his bereaved sobs turning into silent tears of joy. Letters that have him bubbling with laughter as you express your loving annoyance at Eris’ puttering about the nursery and his great insistence that your future babes will need 15 chicks, and at least 6 baby cows to grow up with.

Letters that have him smiling softly, reminiscing in the good memories of his childhood Eris whispered to you in the dark recesses of night. Letters that have him pondering if what you say is really the truth, because you give a convincing argument that his older brother may actually miss him, may have actually loved him… still loves him. Letters that give him insight into all the years he missed, that he now almost feels a part of, like he was actually there to witness all of the events surrounding your relationship and Eris’ ascension to the autumn throne. Lucien spends hours, even as the fire in the office gives way to death and the only remaining source of light becomes Lucien’s own magic pulsating through the room, reading your letters. Over and over, in the order it was sent in and in backwards order. And by the end of it, he is speechless.

No words come to mind that can describe how he feels. He cannot come up with what to say. The only thing he knows is that he is appreciative for the time and patience that you have given him, the grace that you have shown, the honesty of the hardships that you and Eris went through, of the relationship you have formed with his brother, and of all the changes Er has gone through and has brought to Autumn Court since his escape. So, Lucien folds your letters following the exact lines you used, making sure not even a slight crease is created, before carefully placing back into the envelopes you sent them in, holding them to his chest as he walks to his room and retires for the night. Sleep, however, the trickster it is, plays the most exhausting game and evades him most of the night. His usual tossing and turning is replaced with his ember eyes focused on the letters, hands clasped tightly together resting on his chest because his fingers kept twitching with want to reach back for your messages to reread them. Lucien’s thoughts are wildly free of the endless possibilities of what might come in the future… a happy future.

Days were spent rereading your letters. Days were spent stressing out over what to do, he never had a choice when it came to his family. All things were inevitably decided for him. He was brought up to be competitive with his brothers, it was decided that he would have to fight his brothers for the autumn throne, a throne he had no desire of having. It was decided what kind of training he got, despite his lack of interest in violence. He didn’t choose to leave Autumn, he barely escaped with his life. He didn’t choose this. Having a choice… it was a delicacy he hadn’t been offered before.

Lucien knew though. Deep down inside, he knew what he wanted to choose. Going back and forth with his options inevitably landed on one outcome. He wants to try. He wants to get to know you, a sister he always wanted and now, finally has. He wants to get to know his future nieces or nephews. He wants to be a part of their lives; he wants to be the best uncle he can be. And he so achingly wants to know his older brother, wants to know his side of the story, wants to know if he was wrong to blame him for everything. It is alarming. The prospect of it all. It’s… fully… wholly… thoroughly and completely terrifying.

What if he was wrong about it all? What if he spent decades… centuries hating his own brother… someone who should’ve been blameless? Would Eris forgive him for it? What if he comes to the conclusion Eris didn’t try hard enough? Could he forgive Eris, a crimeless, unwilling accomplice in the murder of Jes? What if Eris is uninterested after a near lifetime of rejection? How will they build their relationship, beyond what it ever was? What if, even after all of that, he ends up alone? Was it worth it?

Was the hurt, the fear, the hope… was it worth it?

It took another month of Lucien’s contemplation to come up with a response, not for lack of trying. He had so many thoughts, so many feelings and emotions regarding his brother, his past, his future, you as his new sister in law, the fact that he is going to be an uncle, to work through, that he is still working through. He is afraid, afraid of what he has missed with Eris, afraid of what or who Eris has become. But one thing about the Vanserra brothers is that they have a burning courage within them. So despite the fear, he wants more. He wants to try. Every time he sits down to muster an acknowledgement to your letters, though, he chokes up.

A ball of anxiety runs rampant through his stomach, a knot in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow, that he can't seem to clear even with a rough rub at his neck. His hands quake as he readjusts the pen in his hands, over and over, feeling pins and needles at the tips of his fingers as he tries to figure out the words to respond with. Your letters had so much thought, so much effort and sentiment and zest poured into them. And all of the thoughts and feelings he had during the time he took, it seemed… inadequate. A simple letter… it wouldn’t be enough. Not with all the things Lucien wants to say to you and eventually… to Eris as well. Finally, after staring at the blank sheet placed in front of him, sweaty hands rubbing furiously up and down his thighs, does he figure it out.

So… with a shaky inhale, he brings his pen to the page.

Hello dear sister,

I apologize for my delay in responding. If I am being honest, I spent a lot of time, quite a lot indeed, thinking of your letters. Thinking of you. Thinking of my brother Eris the Autumn High Lord. Thinking of the past. Thinking of the future. One letter to tell you all of my thoughts in response to your attempts of communication feel woefully insufficient.

If you are ever so inclined, would you be open to meeting with me? I understand that your pregnancy condition may make it difficult upon you to travel to Day. I’m happy to I am set to be in Spring Court for two weeks from now for a week. Would you be willing able to meet at the border in three weeks time?

with warm wishes,

regards,

Lucien Vanserra

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vigilante-izuku · 1 year

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imagining 5’2 sniper sitting on könig’s shoulders when there’s no vantage point around them. or during sparring, putting him into a head scissors choke (the leg headlock thing). either way, he forgets that he’s supposed to be hating them, and instead develops an addiction to being crushed between their thicc thighs.

tw: description of reader body.

sniper didn't even need to ask if könig could support your full weight on his shoulders considering the size of the man. but it only seem polite to ask.

he doesn't answer. just huffs. and you try to ignore the sting of it. he still doesn't like you. still angry. you understand, you'd be pissed too if you had to work with the person who took your dream job.

you're thinking about just finding some crates to stand on but then next thing you know there are big hands wrapping around your thighs and you're being lifted into the air.

scrambling for a moment, your hands grips at his helmet as he settles you on top of his shoulders. strong. broad. shoulders.

you're not petite. your thighs are plush and round and strong and you can't help but squeak out if he's okay. you don't want to smother the poor guy with your thighs (although you have daydreamed about sitting on his face before).

he stutters out, "i'm-i'm f-fine."

unbeknownst to you that under his hood, his face is burning. that he can barely focus on anything other then your thighs being wrapped around his head.

#eri's answers #konig x sniper au #könig x reader

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leave-her-a-tome · 12 days

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A character that once excited you might now come across as too perfect, a plot point too tragic, or the worldbuilding overblown. That's okay. Media is saturated with all of these things, and that's because op protagonists and unrealistic plotlines are rad as hell.

So, before swinging the metaphorical bat at your story's kneecaps to bring it down a peg, let's take a step back.

You can make an epic storyline out of paint drying or the most monotonous tale of the fall of an empire. That's because good writing is 1% ideas and 99% execution and landing.

Write what needs to be written without fear it will land too hard, because the readers are there to feel the hit. Reigning in aspects of your work that excite and interest you pose a real danger—when the hit lands, the reader may feel nothing at all.

tl;dr: Never pull your punches.

#eris talks #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #writing advice #writing tips #writing encouragement #violence is the answer

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nocasdatsgay · 14 days

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Wip Wednesday: proof I am working on Cazis

“Lord Eris,” Cassian let his voice boom in the nearly empty room. He hated having to use his title. Little Shit was what he wanted to call him. “I bring greetings from the Night Court.”

“I thought Rhys was sending the pretty one.” Eris made a face, crinkling his nose at Cassian.

“I am the pretty one, you just have poor taste.” Cassian grinned.

#cazis #anon when I get it posted I’ll answer you I swear #wip wednesday #cassian #cassian x eris #eris vanserra

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ladyloveandjustice · 4 months

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My Favorite New Manga and Graphic Novels I Read in 2023

It's time to take a look at the comics and manga I read this year! I read a whopping 78 manga and graphic novels in all. Here's a link to my Goodreads year in books (the manga is at the beginning, the novels start with Siren Queen) and my storygraph wrap up.

I also read 36 novels! If you want to see my favorites, check out my reviews here!

And finally, I've got the continuing manga series I've enjoyed this year here, so check that post out too!

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen

This is a tale about a first-generation Vietnamese-American boy struggling with coming out to his mother. He connects with his mother through fairytales-- she uses them to express her journey as an immigrant, and he uses them to explore his queerness and identity as a Vietnamese kid growing up in America. It's an absolutely gorgeous book full of Trung Le Nguyen's signature stunning art. The fantastical, ethereal fairy tales are weaved beautifully into the lives of the characters. The book explores how fairy tales can form connection, can express culture, can tap deeply into something real and true, and can offer tragedy and catharsis. The protagonist uses fairy tales to write his own story, and the ending is lovely and moving.

Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles by Mark Russell and Mike Feehan

You may know Mark Russell from his darker, socially aware re-imagining of the Flintstones, which made quite a splash on Tumblr with this post. Well, I had pleasure of meeting him at a local convention, and I finally got his comic re-imagining of Snagglepuss, also of Hanna-Barbera. He re-imagines the titular pink puma as a closeted gay playwright in the 50's dealing with McCarthyism. It's as wild as it sounds,but also really digs into the politics of the time, the struggle of standing against oppression and how art fights through suppression and censorship. It's tragic, hopeful, poignant and full of historical references. I enjoyed it ! Definitely be cautious if you're deeply disturbed by homophobia and suicide.

The Summer Hikaru Died by Mokumokuren

A story about a teenage boy, Yoshiki, who realizes that his best friend and crush Hikaru has died and been replaced by a strange eldritch being who is imitating him. But, missing his loved one and desperate to cling to any piece of him, Yoshiki decides to keep on having a relationship with this mysterious entity. This book's horror is visceral and sublime, especially the bizarre, creepy, beautiful body horror involving the being who replaced Hikaru. It's an exploration of anxieties involving grief, relationships, and sexuality that hits just right, and the atmosphere layered with dread is top notch. I love me some messed up relationships and unknowable queer monsters, and this book delivers.

Chainsaw Man, Look Back and Goodbye Eri by Tatsuki Fujimoto

Chainsaw Man needs no introduction, but I did end up really enjoying the story of the doggy-devil boy hunting other devils. It got so tragic and intense at the end, with lots of great surreal horror imagery and darkly funny moments. I'm impressed it went so hard, though the random powers that kept piling up made what was happening hard to follow at times, especially in fights. I'm also enjoying the current weird arc starring a class-A disaster girl and the demon sharing her body.

Look Back

I really do enjoy how Fuijimoto writes messy pre-teen/teenage girls. They ring so true. The manga follows the fraught friendship between two girls as they create manga, exploring the struggle of art mixing with real relationships, and how someone keeps creating after tragedy. It's a little hard to follow at times (especially since I have to differentiate the leads based on hairstyle), but it's a good read.

Goodbye Eri

Probably my least favorite of the three, but it's a fun read- a weird ride that examines the thin line between fiction and reality in art and makes good use of Fujimoto's cinephile background and signature gaslight gatekeep girlboss characters.

Is Love the Answer? by Uta Isaki

The story follows a teenage girl, Chika, who has always struggled with not being attracted to anyone. When Chika enters college, she meets queer people all across the spectrum of asexuality, and starts exploring her own identity. As an ace, this is the best story about asexuality that I've read. It was a nuanced look at asexuality and queerness and all the variations. Chika's journey and how she found her community was moving and poignant. It's a honest, moving look at relationships and identity, and how complicated and hard to define both of those things can be. I loved the moments of Chika imagining herself as an alien to explore and cope, and how she bonded with people through magical girl shows and other geekery. My favorite new manga of the year, it really connected with me!

The Girl that Can’t Get a Girlfriend by Mieri Hiranishi

Oh girl, I've been there. This is a fun autobiographical comic about a butch4butch lesbian's struggles finding a partner in a word that favors butch/femme, and it's just an honest look at the messiness of loneliness and relationships. I also appreciate that crushing on Haruka in Sailor Moon and becoming a HaruMichi stan was the beginning the author's queer awakening because uh...same! She has taste, and is truly relatable.

Qualia the Purple: The Complete Manga Collection by Hisamitsu Ueo and Shirou Tsunashima

See my review of the light novel here for my general thoughts on the story, since it's adapted pretty faithfully. I do think the manga is overall the best experience though, because the illustrations break up the detailed explanations of quantum mechanics a bit, and it includes a bit of extra content that fleshes things out, especially withthe ending.

The Single Life: 60 year old lesbian who is single and living alone by Akiko Morishima

Just like it says on the tin, this focuses on a 60-year-old single lesbian. And definitely the shortest thing on here, since only one 30 page chapter is out. It's a grounded story about a woman looking back on her journey to finding her identity, touching on sexism in the workplace and other challenges. It paints a portrait of a proudly gay elder who's still perfectly content being single and feels fulfilled by the life she had rather than regretting past relationships. I definitely want to see more.

Daemons of the Shadow Realm by Hiromu Arakawa

Arakawa's latest, the story is about a boy who lives in a small village with his little sister is imprisoned and has to carry out a mysterious duty...but then the village is attacked, supernatural daemons awaken, and everything he knows might be wrong. I'm enjoying this fun romp so far! It delivers an really nice plot twist right out the gate (and an excellent subversion of the usual shonen "must-protect-my-saintly-sister" narratives). It boasts Arakawa's usual fun cast and interesting world (and cool ladies). There's some slight tone and pacing issues in the first part- there's so much time spent explaining mechanics the lead doesn't really get to react to his life turning upside down. But it starts smoothing out by the second volume. I'm excited to see what's next!

Superman: Space Age by Mark Russell and Michael Allred

This is a retelling of Superman set throughout the late fifties to early eighties that has Superman interact with the political and social upheaval of the time and question his own role in things. It explored the Superman mythos through a lot of cool new angles, and has a good Lois (why yes she would break Watergate) which is how I always measure a Superman adaptation. My one complaint is, while I liked some of the things it did with Batman, the ending with the Joker was pretty weak. The ending of the overall comic will also be bizarre for anyone not uses to how weird comics can get, but I think I dug it.

#DRCL by Shin'ichi Sakamoto

A manga retelling of Dracula that focuses on Mina as the protagonist and imagines the characters at an English prep school. It adds a lot of diversity to the characters and has exquisite, evocative art. I'm curious where it will go and what it intends to do with all it's changes (especially Lucy), because right now it's mostly vibes and creepiness and the direction isn't clear.

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wind-goddess-eri · 4 months

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Can I request: Havik(mk1) x Fem s/o Orderrealmer who is a slave like him and that she has vast telepathy, telekinesis, and probability manipulation to which she uses these powers to help Havik and herself escape together only she that Havik will allow her to call him by his real name Dairou; for personality wise she is serene, meek, yet the dangerous and silent type she is his wife and both wanted Seido destroyed so they along with other villains join forces with Shang Tsung and Quan Chi into taking over the timeline in exchange that Orderrealm be brought down please!!!

Hi so, I took this idea and now have decided to make a full fic out of it. Might have chapters. Like I said before I'm new to this. but I will show you what I got for the prologue. Also sorry I'm saying a lot, just want you to know that this is a cool idea.

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In all the 7 realms, Seido, humans are a rare to come by. Any who survived Mortal Kombat are in hiding. Now, years after the tournament started, your little brother has gone missing. The elders forbid you from searching for him, claiming it is too dangerous, too volatile.

You leave anyway, only to run face first into a handsome person, with his armblade in hand and death in his eyes.

"I am so sorry." You apologized

"Watch where you're going…Oh.." The man stops mid sentence, "Are you alright?" He then asked, seeing tears in your eyes.

"No…I'm not." You start crying. After a few minutes, collecting yourself you then tell the cleric, "My brother…He went missing. He's not old enough to be out on his own. I'm worried."

He sees your desperation, your humanity,something he hasn't really seen in the past years. Not since everything that has happened after the tournament. He made the decision and promises you one thing: He will help you on your journey or die trying.

"You don't have to…I've only just met you. Why are you so willing to help me?"

"I have nothing else better to do, also I understand. I will help you. Would you be able to help me too?"

You look at the man, He is so different from all you have met. You start feeling something….it may be a sense of fear. why would he be willing to throw away his life to help you? What help did he need from you. Your mind wondered for a bit before you heared his voice again.

"Help me free my people and I'll help look for your brother. Do we have a deal?

You snapped out of it and registered what he just asked. "Yes but how. And what's your name?"

He smiled, "I go by Havik and I will show you how we can do both."

With your brother missing and Seidans being sold to the highest supernatural bidder, you don't have time to be wary.

-----------

please let me know if you want more........

#eri answers #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #havik #havik mk

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eriexplosion · 5 months

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12. Name a common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing.

And once more cut for length!

12. Name a common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing.

I also answered this one in a previous ask but I have plenty of complaints to go around! This was a big one through season 2 that I kept seeing around though it might not be common so much as just very annoying to me personally - the writers do not dislike Crosshair just because he's not in many episodes this past season. The sheer fact of him being the ONLY batch member to have two complete solo episodes where the entire major focus is on his character development and nothing else shows that he is the narrative's blorbo. He's clearly adored by the writers, we wouldn't get this kind of focus if he wasn't! Yeah he's going through it, but do we not all love to put our favorites through the Horrors in order to see them become better people?

Also:

IT WAS NOT THAT SUDDEN AND THE FORESHADOWING IS EXTREMELY BLATANT. Even on my first watch knowing nothing I knew something was different about him post Bracca, the ultimate reveal felt like a clicking into place but I've definitely seen complaints that it was an asspull that came out of nowhere. Shush.

#Eri Answers #the bad batch

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yearning-for-autumn · 3 months

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Would That I -- Part 11

A/N: God this took me aaages to get to a point where I liked it. But here we goooo, finally some interaction between reader and Eris! Thank you so much for your support on Part 1, there will be one more part after this. I hope you enjoy! Based on an amazing ask from @fandomsmultiverse who has the best ideas.

Pairing: Eris x Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, masturbation (male), oral sex

Word count: 5k

Part 1 Part 3

Were you jealous?

You could have thrown the letter into the fire. There was no need for a signature for you to know exactly who it was from, and you seethed. After he had kissed her neck, Eris had proposed to Nesta. Proposed. And yet here he was, writing letters, crawling back to you. Imagining him on his hands and knees, grovelling, soothed the hurt somewhat.

You re-read the letter again and again, losing yourself in ever worsening fantasies of Eris begging at your feet.

How dare he.

It stung all the more knowing your answer, deep down, was yes. Knowing that when you had locked eyes with your mate—your mate—all you could feel was the cold sting of envy. He was yours. You hated him. You needed him. You wanted him dead.

You crumpled the letter, then unfurled it and put it in a box, kicking it under your bed.

Cauldron damn and burn him.

The next week you received another letter.

Your silence tells me everything, little fox. And here I was thinking that you hated me. Send my regards to Lucien, I hear he has taken to sheltering in your dingy court.

You huffed an angry breath. But you read it over and over, searching for something. Something to be truly mad about. You came up short. Lucien was spending more and more time at the house of wind these days. Avoiding Elain. You had found a firm friendship trying to help him settle more in Velaris. Cauldron knows your brothers weren’t doing enough to help.

You found him in the living room, reading.

“Your brother sends his regards.” You said, watching intently for his reaction. His metal eye whirred as he looked up from his book.

“Hello to you too.” He said after a pause. “Which brother?”

“Eris.”

“Ah.”

You waited for him to say something more, but it never came. You sat down next to him biting your fingernail, debating whether to let him see the letter.

“Read this. Please.” You said, thrusting it into his hands. He read it, looked up at you, then back down at the letter. His lips curled into a grin.

“Oh, he’s practically begging for you.” He said, still grinning. You scoffed and grabbed the letter from his hands.

“He hates me. And I hate him.” You said decidedly. Lucien stifled a laugh with the back of his hand.

“Ok. So he’s writing you letters for you to...burn, I presume? Just to get you all riled up?” He bit his lip when he saw your murderous expression. “My brother wouldn’t be writing to you if he wasn’t interested in you. Rhysand told me about the ball, about how you were staring.”

“He proposed to Nesta that night, not me.” You said.

“Ah, so you are jealous.” Lucien teased. You growled.

“You are not helping.”

“Sorry.” He apologised, though he didn’t look remorseful, “I don’t know what you want me to say. My brother ruined my life, forced me to watch my love be killed and now he’s mated to someone who hates him. Seems like fair retribution. Send him my love of course.”

He was joking, but you saw through his mask of indifference. His unharmed eye revealed much more than you suspected he knew. He was pleading to speak to his brother. Despite your better judgement, you resolved to write Eris back, if only for Lucien’s sake. Excusing yourself to your room, you picked up your pen and paper.

Lucien sends his love in return. In future, if you wish to speak with your brother I suggest you contact him directly.

It disappeared into the ether and you stared at your desk. Another letter landed in front of you before you could get up. You blinked in surprise. You had spent so long hating this male that you had never spoken directly, reports of his cruelty coming second hand, and yet here he was, his handwriting so hurried you could have sworn he was excited you had written back.

Unlike you, Lucien would burn his letters. I will let myself believe Lucien sent his love sincerely, please let him know I wish to see him. I also wish to invite you to dine with me.

Why in all the realms would I dine with you?

You are my mate, are you not? It has snapped for you also. I saw how you stared at the ball. Nesta is a beautiful female, but you should know I am not the unfaithful type.

You have no one to be faithful to.

You wrote back, cruelty flowing onto the paper. It felt good for a moment, before the bond soured it. You stared at the letters piling up with increasing disdain. Who did he think he was, acting as if you were already his. His reply popped onto your desk moments later.

There you are, unfortunately, most correct, little fox.

---

Eris spent the next few days in agony. He had never expected you to write back, but after seeing the hunger in your eyes that night… If there was any chance you had changed your mind about him, he would be in the Night Court in a heartbeat. Rhysand had been keeping all diplomatic matters at arms length, not allowing any visitation into Velaris. Eris was no stranger to the territorial behaviour of a male with a pregnant wife.

On that note, he was supposed to be shopping to find a gift for his nephew today. He whistled for Cheddar, who brought along Lulu, his youngest. Eris rolled his eyes.

“Ok, Lulu can come too if she must. But both of you will have to be on a short lead.” He said, mostly to himself, but Cheddar cocked her head in an inquisitive gesture that made Eris grin, rubbing her head with both hands.

He was in a small toy shop, full of handmade stuffed bears and wooden doll houses, when the letter appeared unceremoniously in his hands. Excusing himself outside, he slunk into a nearby alleyway to read it.

Lucien has agreed to see you.

Was all it read. His heart leapt into his throat. He scribbled a response on a scrap of spare paper in his pocket and it vanished from his hands before he had time to regret it. The response was immediate.

Rhysand will allow you in Velaris for two hours under strict supervision from Lucien. Tomorrow at noon.

Eris tried to catch his breath, not wanting to admit to himself how overjoyed he was that his baby brother wanted to see him. Not only that, but he was granted permission to enter the Night Court, Velaris for that matter, where you would surely be. He pet Lulu gently, grounding himself. Now to think of an excuse as to why he would be absent from Court tomorrow. In the shop, he picked out a soft brown bear with a doe eyed expression, letting himself believe it was because his nephew loved bears, and not because its glossy eyes reminded him of you.

Beron took the lie surprisingly well; any dealings with the Night Court were beneficial to Autumn, which was dangerously close to having few allies in Prythian. Beron liked Kier, and whilst he looked down on them, appreciated the brutality of the Illyrian armies. Night would be a strong ally indeed. If only he knew exactly where their loyalties lay.

Eris laid in bed, the window ajar, unable to sleep, thinking of you. His mind straying to that night in the Hewn City, how you looked in your silken gown, back deliciously low to show off your magnificent wings. You had been downright sinful, and he had had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Nesta, who, whilst stunning, held no candle to you that night. Not to him. He ran a hand down his chest as his cock stirred.

Memories consumed him. The heat of the ballroom. Trailing his eyes all the way up the slit in your dress, dragging his gaze to the top of your thigh, no panty line visible. His hand grasped his cock through his slacks as he imagined peeling the fabric back to reveal your unclothed cunt, and he squeezed hard as he saw himself drop to his knees.

“No panties?” His voice was husky. You gave a coy smile,

“Wanted you to have me, Eris.” You breathed. “Wanted you to taste how much I need you.”

Unbuttoning his slacks and freeing his cock, Eris hissed as he pumped his already dripping length. Your pussy would make a delectable mess of your thighs, drooling just for him. He licked his lips and fucked his hand harder as he fantasised. Your moans would be music to his ears as he messily ate you out, tongue laving across your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling as your thighs shook with pleasure.

Debauched sounds filled the room, the wet shlick of his cock becoming the squelching wetness of your pussy as he finally sunk his fingers deep inside of you. He wanted your hands in his hair. He wanted to guide you down onto the floor so that he could feast on you properly, drink you down, consume you. You would cry out, just the thought of it had him squeezing the base of his cock to keep from cumming too soon. His hips bucked into his fist at a punishing pace, his eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in pleasure.

The bond was thrumming like drums in his chest, heightening every feeling as his thick member pulsed, spurting precum into his hand. It didn’t take long until he growled, his whole body tensing and his cock painting his stomach white with his seed. When he groaned out in pained pleasure, it was your name on his lips.

---

You stood by Lucien’s side, the redhead almost vibrating with nervousness.

“Remind me why I let you talk me into this?” He asked. You smiled gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Because you want to see him. I could tell the moment I gave you that letter. You’re happy he still thinks of you.”

“It’s complicated.” He groused, “We haven’t spoken properly in decades. What if—what if he’s not the male I remember?” You felt your heart break at Lucien’s words, cursing yourself for meddling in his relationships. You just wanted to see him. Once more. To confirm that your hatred was justified. But you pushed that aside, feeling terrible for dragging Lucien into your little game.

“Lucien, he’s your brother. I know you haven’t been feeling so settled here lately, I think seeing him will do you some good.” It was the best you could do, unable to tell him for certain that the Eris you knew was the same doting brother he had told you about. You squeezed his arm and were relieved to feel him relax.

“Will you stay with me, just for a bit?” He asked. You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t, not to Lucien. You smiled at him gently.

“Of course I will. Just don’t expect me to have anything nice to say.” He laughed, but his bright smile faded as he spotted Eris walking up the path, escorted by a deadly looking Azriel. Your breath caught in your chest when you saw your mate, impeccably dressed and ruggedly handsome. Your eyes lingered for a moment too long. Azriel shot you a warning glare, then winnowed away. Eris, finally free of his chaperone, looked at Lucien and you felt nervousness wash down the bond. He dug in his bag and pulled out two small boxes.

“Lucien.” He said.

“Eris.”

“Mother baked apple cinnamon biscuits. They are—were your favourite.” He handed one of the boxes to Lucien, who took it with so much care it could have contained something much more valuable.

Eris turned to you, “I also brought you something.”

Surprised, you were handed a little box of your own. You peeked inside and heat rushed to your cheeks. A small dagger, with jewel encrusted hilt lay on a bed of luxurious velvet. A courting gift. You looked at him incredulously. He was here to see his brother, he hated the very thought of you, why in all the realms was he bringing you courting gifts.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” You frowned, looking down at the dagger as if it had offended you.

“Usually they’re used for stabbing people.” Eris said, with a mask of cool calm betrayed by a tightness in your chest that didn’t belong to you, “But I suppose it would make a pretty kitchen accessory, should you wish.” He quipped. You rolled your eyes.

“I am not a housewife.” You sneered.

“No. That’s not what—” Lucien cleared his throat and saved you from whatever Eris was about to say next.

“Let me show you around Velaris.” He said, diffusing the tension. “It’s not often outsiders are allowed to just waltz in.”

“Of course,” Eris said, “Will you be joining us?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I will spare you the agony, Vanserra.” You turned to leave, but looked back at Lucien, “Do not let him out of your sight. Rhys will have my head if he does anything stupid.”

As soon as you were a few feet away you felt you could breathe easily again. The bond had been simmering, thrilled at your proximity to your mate. It was a constant buzzing and humming in your chest. You were relieved you could no longer feel it, and made sure to send that feeling loud and clear down the connection between you and your mate.

---

In the following three days you received: A small wheel of cheese, a bouquet of marigolds and a pair of amber earrings. Lucien couldn’t stop laughing when he presented you with the cheese, but it had been amazing with some salt and pepper crackers that evening.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt when Lucien came the next day with another box. He was grinning wildly, barely stifling his laughter.

“I think this might be the worst one yet.” He said, thrusting the box into your hands, “Please open it.”

Eris had been sending the gifts through Lucien, and, like the letters, you had been hiding them from the rest of your family. It felt bad, going behind your brothers backs. But they could never find out that Eris was attempting to court you, for his sake and theirs. Lucien and Eris had managed to start talking again, over the constant gifts and letters. As annoying as it was, you were glad some good had come of it. Though he hadn’t been allowed in the Night Court again.

Lucien was practically rocking on his heels. Inside the box was a knitted headband. It was poorly made, full of holes and oddly misshapen. You frowned.

“What is this?” You looked to Lucien for an explanation but he was doubled over. He took a ragged breath.

“I told him not to send it. I told him it was a shit gift.” He managed before he was wheezing with laughter again. You inspected the headband.

“Did...did Eris make this?” Lucien simply nodded through his tears. You blinked.

“I don’t want these gifts. Please tell him to stop wasting his time.” It felt cruel. But your mind flashed to his lips on Nesta’s neck, his emotionless eyes during the battle with Hybern, your cousin's agonising cries when she had returned in Azriel’s arms that fateful night. You balled the cursed thing in your hand and chucked it back in the box. Lucien bit his lip, not finding it quite as funny anymore.

“It’s tradition in the Autumn Court to send things that are useful, as well as just objects of beauty.” He explained. It was clear which one the headband was meant to be.

“I’m Illyrian. Does he really think a bit of cold is going to hurt me? I don’t want any courting gifts, Lucien, regardless of their use.”

“You ate the cheese.” He murmured.

“We all ate the cheese, Lucien.” Was your quick reply.

He had no retort, and you decided that it was for the best. When you returned to your room, you pushed the box under your bed with the rest of the letters and gifts. The marigolds were wilted and dead for lack of sunlight, the earrings never touched. You could feel the mating bond screaming, begging to be heard, but you pushed it back further. This male would not have any part of you. None at all. You would never be his. No matter how much the thought pained you.

---

You were not reciprocating. Eris had spent all night fumbling around with those stupid needles trying to make something you might actually care for, and your response was silence. He thought back to that night. He knew he had not imagined the hunger in your eyes that almost knocked him dead. Yet how had he repaid you? By kissing Nesta. By proposing to Nesta.

He had fucked up. As if, after everything you already thought about him, you might have given him a chance.

Yet the bond raged so fiercely, he could barely stand to ignore it for even a day before his chest burned so badly he thought he might drown. It would be a fitting way to go, he thought. To be hated so much it killed him. He had done enough to deserve such a fate.

Weeks passed, then months. Rhysand had been kind enough to let him visit Lucien twice more, once ending in a painfully awkward run in with Cassian that had him leaving earlier than intended. Those overgrown bats hovered around him as if he might try stealing you away the longer he spent in the Night Court. He never managed to catch even a glimpse of you. Not with Azriel or Rhys silently staring, or Cassian barging in every few minutes pretending to need something from the room. He was allowed nowhere without Lucien as his chaperone, he could say nothing without it being overheard. So much for bats, they were more like hawks.

He had stopped sending courting gifts. And he had stopped sending letters.

Cheddar lay her head on his lap, and he stroked her soft head gently.

“Am I just a fool, Cheddar?” He asked, knowing she could do nothing more than side-eye him as he spoke. “What good is it, pursuing your mate who hates you and whose brothers want you dead? Should I let this go?”

Cheddar whined, and thumped her tail. Checking the clock Eris found it was almost time for her walk. Eris glanced at the paper laid on his desk, gathering dust for weeks. He sighed. Once more. Once more he would grovel for your attention, to soothe the pain in his chest, the ache in his heart. Then he would let it go.

Let you go.

Forever.

Join me for a walk. I wish to talk. Eris.

He signed his name, the first time he had ever bothered to. Before he had time to overthink it, it vanished from his desk. His hands shook. Seconds passed, minutes turned to half an hour. Then it came. Popping onto the desk unceremoniously. Your response.

Fine. Where should I meet you?

He replied quickly, Cheddar beginning to get restless.

On the border, there is a doorway from Night to Autumn, I will walk you past the wards.

I will be there.

It was now well past when he would have usually taken the dogs out, but they would be walked, this time with his mate in tow. He stood with a shaky breath, and took the leads off the wall. Winnowing with his dogs to the edge of the Court, he steeled himself. He was ready to face you, to face his one chance to change your mind.

---

You stood at the edge of the Autumn Court. You had told no one where you were. Nor had you told anyone who you were with. Rhys would have a fit if he ever found out, Azriel would never speak to you again. Cassian might have allowed you to go, but not without following you and glaring holes through Eris the entire time.

It was safer for Eris on your own.

You heard his dogs first, then his voice calling after them to slow down. A brindle smokehound bounded up to you, its tongue lolling and tail wagging frantically. They were a beautiful breed, and rare, you couldn’t help the warm smile you gave it. It stopped just short of smacking into your legs and you giggled, holding your hand out for it to sniff. It was a few beats ahead of its owner, who was walking slowly with four more dogs waltzing around him, one calmly at his side. You watched as they ran circles around you and Eris as he came to a stop before you. He gave a short whistle and they stopped dead in their tracks, then retreated to his side. You couldn’t help the short burst of arousal you sent down the bond. Eris gave a cocky smile.

“You came.” He said, his smooth voice giving away no emotion, the bond closed off to you.

“I did.” You answered, unable to block your side of the bond quite as effectively.

“Did you receive my gifts?”

“I did.” You repeated. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.

“Well, the dogs will be off leash, I hope that’s alright. They’re usually good, but this one might try and go for the squirrels.” He said, pointing to a gorgeous black dog who pressed it’s long nose into Eris’ hand. You gave the pup a small smile.

You walked in silence for a while, both of you unsure of where to start, what to say to mend the fraying thread that connected you. Golden and ruby leaves crunched underfoot, the dogs panting breaths fogged little clouds in the crisp air. It was truly beautiful. You had always felt a sense of calm when Autumn fell over Velaris, but it could not compare to the serenity of the Autumn Court. It felt as though the whole Court was holding its breath, the season of change, never-changing, unending. Eris let you soak it in, watching as you beheld the forest in all its magnificence, not bothering you with conversation.

“You kissed her.” You said finally, breaking the peaceful silence. Eris fiddled with the leash in his hand.

“I had to.”

“Why?” You asked, the question sounding childish as soon as it escaped your lips.

“There were expectations on me that night I don’t expect you to understand.” The bond was still sealed tight from you, he spoke with the emotionless tone of a well-trained courtier.

“Try me.” You pressed.

“I don’t want to.” And perhaps it was the truth, but frustration built the further you walked, the silence dragging out between you uncomfortably. He had invited you here to talk. So talk he would.

You scoffed. The bond buzzing incessantly at your closeness to your mate, finally right where it wanted to be. But all you could focus on were his eyes, his heated gaze, as he had brushed his lips across Nesta’s bare neck.

“No.” You snapped. “You knew I was watching when you claimed my sister. When you proposed to marry her. You have given me no reason to believe you care for me. Never once apologised for what you did to my cousin. How could I ever trust you? That is what you want, is it not?”

He was staring at you now, no longer averting his gaze, amber eyes cold and calculating.

“I had a duty to my father to propose marriage to Nesta, I have no feelings for her, only for you.” Eris said, carefully ignoring any mention of Morrigan.

“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Only that we share this bond.” You argued. One of his dogs trotted up to your side and you pet her head to calm yourself. The action grounded you, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Eris, who felt it deep in his chest.

“I know that you seem to care an awful lot about what I did with your sister, yet claim to detest me” He said, dropping the walls he had carefully placed around the bond.

Nerves. Anger. Disappointment.

“I have waited centuries for a mating bond, and will not let your unfortunate Court affiliations bar me from trying, especially not when you show me so clearly your true desires.”

You rounded on him with anger glinting in your eyes.

“You could never be serious, professing my ‘true desires’, if you knew how much I loathed you, Eris Vanserra.”

Hurt. Pain. Despair.

“You are a power hungry brute who as far as I know has a secret thing for Illyrians.”

There was a pregnant pause. Eris stared straight at you with an expression you could not decipher. He was bathed in dappled golden light. He looked ethereal. You couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you, and you knew he felt it too.

Hope.

Something clicked, his expression shifted and he moved towards you with a darkness in his eyes that sent heat rushing to your core. You stepped back until you hit a tree, your back pressed up against it, and you were trapped. He crowded you, so close you could almost taste his spiced perfume.

“Is that what they have told you, little fox?” He asked, his deep voice low and sensual against your ear, “The only Illyrian I have a thing for is you. The moment I saw you swagger into that meeting as if you owned the place, I knew the Mother had made the right choice. She mocks me with your family, but I would risk their disapproval for just a taste of you.” You sucked in a breath, anger quickly replaced with lust as he pressed against you, and you cursed your body for reacting. You knew he could smell your arousal as his cruel grin widened.

“You feel it too, don’t you little fox.” His scent consumed you as he dropped every glamour, the heady rush of his arousal surrounded you like a drug. “That despite everything you think about me, you want me too. You want this.”

There was nowhere to run, with your back firmly pressed against the tree. There was no escape. That would be the lie you kept telling yourself afterwards as you surged up to kiss his lips, no longer able to resist. You took him by surprise, and used your advantage to spin him around, lips still on his, pushing him against the tree. He looked at you with lust blown eyes, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut as you squeezed him, hard.

“This is mine.” You growled, the jealousy and need you had felt at the ball rushing back full force, “You are mine. From now on if you so much as sniff around another female I will make sure to show you exactly who you belong to.”

He panted, nodding frantically.

“Yes. Please. Please y/n, I need you.”

You fished his cock from his pants, it was wet and throbbing, the length of it in your hand making your pussy clench in need. He hissed at the cold air. You needed him closer. You needed to taste him. Dropping to your knees, you enveloped him in your mouth, his hands flying to your hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk.” He groaned. He pulled your hair roughly, and you looked up at him with doe eyes. You wanted it hard, rough. Wanted him to fuck your mouth as if he hated you. He felt it all through the shimmering golden thread and whimpered.

“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He grit out. With a small smile you bobbed your head, experimentally. A burst of salty precum coated your tongue and you swallowed it with a moan. He was hot and pulsing in your mouth, you pushed your head further down until he was at the back of your throat, your nose bumping against his navel, wanting him to feel the contractions as you swallowed around him. Breathing through your nose, you tapped at the back of his legs. you wanted him thrusting into you.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he pulled his hips back, dragging his cock lavishly across your tongue. With a sharp breath he pushed in, and you met his thrust with a bob of your head, knees aching, eyes watering.

He growled, and picked up the pace until he was fucking your face with abandon. His moans and pants sending slick dripping into your panties. Salt was all you could taste as his dick leaked continuously onto your tongue. He was soaking wet, with your spit, with his slick. It was the messiest blowjob you had ever given, and you fucking loved it. The bond hummed in pleasure as you gagged and drooled around him.

“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m close.” He whined, his thrusts growing sloppy as he ground his hips against your face.

“Gods your mouth, your fucking mouth, you’re gonna make me cum.” You laved your tongue over him, his constant stream of words both amusing and arousing you. You pulled off his cock and held your tongue out, looking up at him, hand pumping him roughly.

“I’m, I’m cumming, shit, Sweetheart, fuck.” He came copiously, so much that you choked on it. You swallowed, watching his eyes darken as you licked your lips.

He leaned against the tree, panting, and you sat on your knees.

This was not what you had planned. Not in the slightest. You had come to tell him to fuck off, to let the bond grow cold and stale. And yet you were on your knees in front of him, the taste of him consuming your senses. What had you done? You knew he could feel the growing fear, spreading through your chest like a chill.

“I have to go.” You stood abruptly.

“Don’t—” You didn’t stay to hear what he said next. You ran to the doorway, and didn’t stop running until you had reached your bedroom in the Night Court.

You opened the door. Rhys stood, a murderous look on his face and letters gripped tight in his fist. The scent of Eris was all over you. You had no way to hide it. His eyes darkened, your desk cracked and splintered then misted into thin air.

“Rhys I—” You scrambled for the right words to say as your brother took a heavy step towards you.

“I can explain.”

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olenvasynyt · 1 month

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This is more of a rant than an actual question but I need Lucien to KNOW he is not Beron's son. I will never be able to reallistically believe he is as smart and clever as SJM has hinted at if he DOESN'T know! Plus, if Lucien is Helion's Heir he'd have to have SOME day court powers and he'd probably had to hide them in Autumn and how would he do that if he didn't know he was helion's son/not Beron's son?? I've never bought the theory that eris and his mother "binded" his powers, i truly think he's hiding them on purpose just like Aelin buried her fire magic so deep inside her when she was afraid of it

I feel like he knows he's a bastard, actually! I think there's a lot of hints to it. When we see this thoughts in ACOWAR we see him think about his mother and that he kept some things about her a secret because they were personal and irrelevant.

"I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court." And a whole lot of nothing. He'd told the shadowsinger all he knew--of his surviving brothers, of his father. His mother...he'd kept some details, irrelevant and utterly personal, to himself.

His might be that he knows LoA had an affair, but it could also just be about the abuse she recieves from Beron. But we later discover secrets his mother has been keeping. And I also think "a whole lot of nothing" is interesting to say too, because saying he's the seventh son to Beron is "a whole lot of nothing".

And we also understand how the High Fae magic develops in their youth because of Mor. He probably had his Day Court powers develop as his Autumn Court powered developed, but LoA and Eris might have told him to suppress it.

I don't think he has had the room to explore his Day Court powers. He keeps a lot of things suppressed. And when he breaks free from Hybern's spell at the end of ACOMAF to get to Elain, that was a sudden, in the moment thing fueled by his anger and the mating bond. We don't know his thoughts and feelings about that moment and how he was able to free himself, so it's hard to say.

And I think Lucien is smart enough to figure out that Beron mistreating him might be for a deeper reason. And he does have darker skin than his brothers. Yes, that's technically a retcon because there's signs that this wasn't what SJM intended in ACOTAR because he's decribed to look like Beron UTM, but anyways lmao.

I don't think he knows he's Helion's true son though, mostly because SJM will want the dramatic reveal! He could fully think that LoA had an affair with a random Day Court male. I do have theories that it could be possible Lucien knows Helion is his father based on how the High Lord's powers transfer to the next person and how the heir has to hide their powers--we see this with Rhys and Tamlin.

I feel like there could be a lot of signs that he knows he's a bastard, but think SJM has retconned a lot of stuff surrounding Lucien and his true heritage so it's hard to come up with actual theories. She said that she didn't go into Lucien's full backstory until ACOMAF, so honestly, a lot of potential "hints" in ACOTAR are a bit irrelevant now. But I'm also pretty cynical of SJM tbh lmao and I enjoy coming up with headcanons to fix the holes she left.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #autumn court #lady of autumn #lady autumn #loa x helion #helion spell cleaver #fuck beron #eris vanserra #SJM please give us answers in the next book I'm begging you

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hakusins · 20 days

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(quickly cobbled together but I shove him in your direction)

HJEJHBFJBHEF MOOSEN YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THESE THINGS !!! SO SUDDENLY !!!!

LOOK! she's malfunctioning!!!

whitney the faithful swap au -> @just-dol-headshots

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redbleedingrose · 1 year

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I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION (bat boys + Lucien & Eris edition)

What are their sleeping habits? (What do they wear to sleep? what sleeping position do the prefer? Are they heavy or light sleepers etc.) Do they snore?

VERY SERIOUS INQUIRY DESERVES IMMEDIATE ANSWERS!!!!! <33

Rhysand

Okay Rhys prefers to fall asleep in his huge ass bed. Like frl think of like a california king size bed but 5x bigger than that.

A whole bunch of pillows and blankets everywhere, and he uses at least three

ugh... pampered high lord... hot pampered high lord

I think he could also fall asleep on the chaise in his office, especially with you on top of him you know?

I think the position he takes truly depends on the day. Sometimes all he wants to do is spoon you because you bring this warmth to him. Sometimes, he wants you to spoon him because he felt the pressure of being high lord all day and wants to feel protected in your arms.

Sometimes he falls asleep on his belly because he has his wings out, and those nights, he is tugging you to sleep pressed against him with one of his wings wrapped around you in a warm caccoon. The other wing is twitching off the side of the bed

Under the mountain, this male barely got any sleep and was the lightest sleeper. He would wake up with the crackle of the fire in the hearth.

I think now though, he is a heavy sleeper, especially when you come into the picture. And he kinda sleeps like a rock, unmoving and without snoring.

This male could spend hours in bed with his mate and be so fulfilled. He hates waking up and getting out of bed in the morning, it takes him some coaxing on your part

Some days, you try to roll out of bed to start your day but he won’t let you, tugging at your thigh so you are pulled flush against him, yanking your leg over his waist, mumbling, “As high lord, Im ordering you to come back to bed lady night”

And you just go with it because a day in bed with Rhys???

Unmatched

He likes to sleep a full 8 and 1/2 to 9 hours and you are perfectly happy with that because the whole time, you are cuddling with your mate.

Can I just say... our night court high lord sleeps naked

Butt naked

So of course, you also sleep butt naked because it would be weird if one person did and the other didn’t

And because...

Easy access I guess

No because when he finally finds the energy to wake up, he is slipping between your thighs to wake you up in a very fun way

Azriel

Okay I think Az is a light sleeper and sleeps the least, and I like to think that he does not snore. He also only sleeps in his bed or your bed.

I think it is just how he has trained himself as spymaster, and even something that he had embedded within childhood.

He goes to bed super late and is up super early, and his body is fully okay with that.

But I think when he meets you, he will wake up and stay in bed, cuddling up close to you and rubbing your back up and down as you sleep, sending strokes of love down the bond just to see a small smile quirk at your lips despite being asleep.

It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy to know that even in your sleep, he can make you smile and content

So he just stares at you for a couple hours, admiring your features and thinking about his life before you, with you now, and his future with you.

He thinks of how he used to dream so many nightmares of his past, haunting him despite being so successful as spymaster and a member of the inner circle. A close confidant and brother to the high lord of the night court. How he forced himself to get up early because he felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders... how crushing it felt.

Now, he cannot help but think of the mornings when you sometimes wake up early, and just groan a little, seeking him out by stretching out your arm and patting at the bed till you eventually find his chest, and you just unconciously snuggle right into his shoulder and fall back asleep. How it forces him to stay in bed for longer. How relieved he feels when you do that. How he feels like the weight that he used to carry has been lifted off his shoulders, sent into the ethers.

He thinks about the futures when your kids will sneak into bed because they had a nightmare or simply because they also don’t want to get up to start the day and they want to cuddle close with their mommy and daddy.

His shadows like to dance or hover around you two as you sleep, and the usual cuddle position you take at night is you snuggling into his bare chest with his arm wrapped around your waist. It makes you feel so utterly protected and safe, and Az loves that your scent just wafts up to him throughout the night, keeping him at ease.

He likes to sleep with just his sweatpants on. He loves not wearing shits or tanks to bed because you oogle his chest, nearly drooling, and he lives for it.

I think he likes when you wear your little silk colbat blue nighty that hugs at your hips and waist, and shows off your tits.

He do be fucking you to sleep most days

And he loves to wake you up with his head between your thighs because he got tired of waiting

Cassian

Cassian is a fucking heavy sleeper and he also fucking snores

But it is the most amazing thing because you used to hate the snoring, and you would silently adjust his pillows so he wouldn’t be

But when the general is off on a mission or is visiting Windhaven under Rhys’ order, you genuinely cannot fall asleep without his snores, nor can you stay asleep without his snores.

Like you truly are up until you pass out from exhaustion, but then you wake up in the middle of the night because you don’t hear your mates snores.

Eventually, they become this white noise for you that is absolutely necessary for you to fall asleep and stay asleep.

He also is impossible to wake up in the morning. He luckily wakes up because of his natural sleep clock, but if you are trying to wake him up, he just lifts up his head and mumbles a little, “I’m awake dove,” and then lays his head back down and is back to snoring 10 seconds later

It is so fucking cute I cant

I think Cass likes to fall asleep on his back with you literally on top of him, laying down on his chest. He just loves the weight of your body on top of him, it feels like a compression blanket and he struggles to sleep without it.

Sometimes, he likes to fall asleep with his head on your chest because your tits do be acting as soft pillows for him, your heart beat a fucking lullaby.

You know that you struggle to fall asleep without him. He also struggles to fall asleep without you.

He is also only sleeping in his boxers because this male runs so fucking hot at night, and so you are basically only wearing your panties to bed because you also wake up practically sweating from his heat that radiates off him.

Let’s be so for real, Cass could fall asleep where ever he wanted. As long as you are next to him, he is ready to fall asleep.

Lucien

I think Lucien is a light sleeper, and he snores pretty softly. Like you can barely hear it but you know its there. I think it is just in his nature to be a light sleeper, he wakes up to whatever little sound he hears, but he is also the kind of male to be able to fall back asleep really quickly after pulling you back close to him

I do think that he likes to sleep facing you with an arm tucked around your waist or hip. You both like your general space because it tends to get hot during the night, but at least one part of you is touching throughout the night in a constant reminder of each others presence.

I think Luc likes to sleep on his side, with his head wedged against a pillow and his muscled arm. I think at some point during the night, you get close enough that your head is resting on the same pillow.

You both also choose to use pretty light blankets, opting for the day court breeze against your skin

And I think that you both love to sleep naked because first off...

easy access right?

But second off... it is just easier and more comfortable that way.

I also think that Lucien sometimes, when he is a couple hours into his sleep, sleep talks.

Like full on conversations with the male can occur that he will not remember when he wakes up

usually its about how much he loves you.

Even in his sleep, he is thinking of you and loving on you

Little mumbles of, “I love my mate” and “She is so pretty you don’t even know” and “Gods I cant live without her” and “Honey you better not eat my pumpkin pie”

Very protective over his pumpkin pie I guess

He also absolutely loves to take naps with you. He loves pulling you towards your bedroom and tossing you onto the day bed on the balcony so he can take a nap with you. It is just so nice and relaxing and you always wake up feeling so fucking refreshed

Also can I just say...

his favorite way of waking up is...

Gods this is fucking dirty... eeeeeeee

When you are practically sucking him dry

Eris

Okay I think I am gonna do a pre-Girl dad!Eris with you and a post girl dad!Eris with you because y’all already know that girl dad!Eris owns my heart and soul and I would die for him

Pre-Girl Dad!Eris

Eris is such a light sleeper due to his father. I think the male was always forced to wake up early and he never fully trusted himself to fall asleep fully because he didn’t want his father or brothers doing anything to him.

Even after his fathers death, and just being with his mate, his habit of being a light sleeper and waking up early stuck with him. And I think that habit will stay with him for the rest of his life.

But lets be honest, before you, this male was so tired. I think he was hovering through life on the brink of exhaustion and the only times he truly felt alert were around his father or brothers or people from other courts. He has a mask to uphold.

But everything changed with you...

He was able to fall asleep quicker. He wasn’t afraid to actually fall asleep and shut off his mind into a dreamless sleep. He would allow for your pulses of love down the bond and strokes of his hair to lull him into sleep. And he would stay asleep until sunrise. And he would wake up so fucking rested and relieved.

He would wake up, ready to start his day and motivated to make Autumn Court a better place for you, his perfect wife and mate. His favorite person in the entire universe. His reason of living. The sole creator of his happiness and peace.

He would practically be jumping out of bed, quietly of course as to not wake up, to start his day and make some changes

His favorite moments are when you also wake up and you beg him to come back to bed and snuggle with you. You won’t even go back to sleep, you will just climb on top of him and rest your arms against his chest, and peak up at him through your lashes and whisper about your plans for the day as you count the freckles over his nose and cheeks.

Sometimes you just stare at him with the most adoration he has ever seen anyone look at someone and it has him flushing under you.

I think he likes to fall asleep with you pressed as close to him as possible. He wants your legs to be intertwined, he wants to be holding hands with you, he wants his head to be resting on your head, he wants your chest pressed against his.

I don’t think he snores, I think he kinda sighs in his sleep, very content with the feeling of you so close to him

Also, before you have your babes, you are absolutely sleeping naked.

And you both love to wake each other up by fucking.

Sometimes he is waking you up with his head between your thighs or when he is slipping into you to slowly rock you awake

Sometimes its you sucking his cock like you want his cum for breakfast

Or your personal favorite, when you wake up before him and ride him awake

Ugh literal perfection

Girl Dad!Eris

Okay some things never change.

Eris would still be a light sleeper, he would still love to fall asleep basically melting into you. He still is an early riser

But he fucking loves mornings as a father

Because his little babes love to sneak into your bed in the early morning hours, waking up early just like their papa, and snuggling into you and him.

Twila loves to snuggle into her papa’s arms and Marwa is clinging to your back

And they both are sleeping in between you, perfectly content with the warm that you radiate off

Safe to say... y’all don’t sleep naked anymore. You wear a silk purple nightgown and he likes to wear matching purple silk pajama bottoms. He does still sleep bare chested, and he loves to feel you and babes snuggle into him in the morning.

Eris used to be so ready to get out of bed and start his days before his little girls...

But now...

Now he spends hours in bed, watching your babes cuddle with you. Seeing them reach out for him and cuddle into him.

And gods, does he love waking up to the tangled mess that is his family. With Marwa’s tiny foot pressed into his face and Twila’s arm punching into his side.

He wouldn’t have it any other way!!!!!

He also finds it so fucking hilarous whenever his babes are practically on top of you, begging their mama to wake up, practically pealing her eyes open with their tiny fingers. Thats when he yanks them out of bed, much to their giggling, screaming delight, and gets them ready for the day

He loves to take his girls out on early morning wakes while it is still foggy out with his hounds. 12 of his hounds will go on the morning walk, and only one will stay, the youngest, which sneaks into your bed to snuggle with his masters mate.

He loves kissing you goodbye in the morning while you are half asleep. He loves your tired smile and he loves your messy hair that he gets to stroke as he kisses every part of your exposed beautiful face.

And he loves coming back from his walk with the girls, often shushing them as they walk into the home because their mama is still asleep, only to find you at the kitchen counter, ready for the day, smiling bright at your mate and perfect babes, making everyone breakfast that you can eat outside on the porch.

#azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #lucien x reader #eris x reader #rose rambles #rose answers #eris vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar headcanons #bat boys #bat boy headcanons

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