#also no beron because fuck that guy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs | Tumgik

#also no beron because fuck that guy

queercontrarian · 2 years

Text

my favourite prythian headcanon is all the older high lords being fiercely protective of tarquin because in their eyes he's basically still a kid?

like tarquin is hanging out with helion, trying to figure something out at the libraries with the day court's scholars' help (and helion would definitely see a bit of himself in the younger lord, with how idealistic he is and how passionate about his people, like the son he never had - lucien in the distance doing,, nothing actually, because he doesn't know either rip) and he mentions off-hand how feysand stole the book and broke into his mind "but i guess that's normal when dealing with daemati" - cue ten minutes later helion on the front lawn of feysand's mansion (just because you don't want to call it a mansion doesn't mean it's not a mansion, feyre) ripping them a new one for taking advantage of tarquin's kindness like that

or tarquin being invited to brunch with thesan and his husband and they both try to give him advice on how to push the integration of "lesser" fae in government and society in general because they've been through it before

or kallias going easy on him for trade negotiations (before realizing that tarquin is actually a very competent and capable high lord and a skilled negotiator and does not need any help on his part and to think that is kinda ignorant and demeaning). viviane and him would invite tarquin for game nights.

or tarquin being the only high lord tamlin actually talks to - and even almost enjoys it - because 1. a lot of his people are still in the summer court so he kinda has to and 2. they bond over what a shitty neighbour beron is. also tarquin would always bring food, especially fruit and candy from the summer court. and when tarquin shows up at your door with peaches and sweet wine and dried fruit and nuts you just don't turn him away

and ig the closest thing to eris being nice would be turning beron's eye to the spring court instead of summer, which is almost as much in shambles as spring, and sending his most agreeable brother to treat with tarquin. plus he would sorta kinda be on board with tarquin's dream of a seasonal courts alliance

no note for the night court because we already know how they treated tarquin for his kindness. and idc that they "felt bad about it", they still did it. tarquin is way too nice in forgiving them, and i hope cressida is holding that grudge until the day she gets to take her revenge on them

469 notes · View notes

ladylokilaufeyson5 · 1 month

Text

Where The Shadows Dance - The Proposition (i)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

Tumblr media

CHAPTER I: The Proposition

SUMMARY: Beron has invited the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court to spend a week in the Autumn Court. Azriel and the rest of the Court of Dream believe he has ulterior motives, and they are correct - but these motives come as a surprise.

WARNINGS: Um. Misogyny. love that for us (i hate the autumn court). swearing (the f-word (as in fuck)), y/n has daddy issues (bc beron is a cunt) and uh... i haven't read acotar in ages so apologies for any OC characteristics and forgetting everything about the autumn court. but i did read HOFAS recently so hopefully az isn't too out of character. also tw: beron

NOTE: so obviously Y/n is the daughter of the autumn court. we know they have red hair BUT i want this to be as less oc as possible so y/n has your colour hair and u can make up ur own story about why but mine is that she's 'rebellious' (as you'll see later on) and just dyes her hair. also special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for proofreading my work! i love you guys<3

WORDS: 2.7K

Tumblr media

Azriel glowered at the male sat across from him. Eris either didn't notice or pretended he didn't care as he reclined in his chair, one arm over the back and looking for all the world he was in his own home, rather than the Court Of Nightmares.

"Eris," Rhys drawled, "if you have any information to help us with this meeting with your father, we would appreciate it immensely."

The High Lord of the Autumn Court had invited the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court to his castle for a week, as a gesture of good will, and an attempt to strengthen their bonds. Of course, the court was suspicious of the intent behind such actions. Although Azriel had sent his contacts in to find any sliver of information, his spies had come back empty-handed.

Eris rolled his shoulders, seemingly at ease despite being surrounded by the Night Court's most deadly warriors. "I am not entirely sure what he wants, but I assume it has something to do with my sister, Y/n."

Y/n, the only daughter of the High Lord of Autumn. She was quite young, by Fae standards – only seventy-nine. She had not fought in the war against Hybern, and had very little training according to Azriel's knowledge.

"Why her?" Feyre asked carefully.

Azriel heard the shift in her tone. She was wondering, as they all were, what Beron intended to do with her. The Autumn Court was just as backwards as the Court Of Nightmares, and females were considered little more than property.

Eris simply shrugged, either not hearing the implications in the High Lady's tone, or simply not caring. "That is all I know, I'm afraid."

Cassian grunted, his eyes still on the heir to the Autumn throne. No one was particularly happy about the bargain they had struck with him, but he seemed to be a willing ally. For now.

"What can you tell us about her?" Feyre inquired.

Eris watched her for a moment, before responding, "She is… wild. Untamed, and unpredictable."

Despite his words, Azriel sensed a flicker of admiration in his tone. Azriel stored that piece of information away. It could be a weakness of Eris's, his sister. They may need to exploit it one day.

"Sounds like my kind of lady," Mor grinned.

The fact that Mor bothered speak in Eris's presence was a gift that the heir did not appreciate enough. Azriel glanced sidelong at her, noticing the way her unbound golden hair cascaded down her back, and the amount of skin her low-cut red dress revealed. Once, looking at her like that would have sent Azriel mad with longing. But after she had confided in him, after she had revealed she could never love him back because she preferred females… some part of him had been relieved to let her go.

Eris scoffed at Mor's comment. "Yes, well, she irritates my father to no end."

There was a silence, and Azriel wondered whether Y/n annoyed Eris as well, before Rhys sighed, "Well, if that's all, Eris, I'm sure you have places to be."

The dismissal was clear in the High Lord's tone, and Eris rose from his chair with a nod before leaving the council room. Everyone was silent as the male left, all eyeing each other. Feyre and Rhys were looking at each other, a clear indication of their telepathic conversation, and Azriel watched the two with a hint of jealousy. Of course he was happy from them – finding one's mate was one of the most fulfilling things one could experience. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for his own. It seemed he was the last of the court to find his mate, and he had a fear that he would never find them.

"Has anyone heard much about this Princess?" Cassian asked, looking towards Azriel.

Azriel shook his head. "She is one of the most guarded individuals in Prythian. My sources struggle to even see her."

"Very guarded indeed," Rhysand murmured.

The Court of Dreams debated between themselves the possibilities of what the High Lord of Autumn could want regarding his daughter. Azriel had a few of his own suspicions – to have her taken away, or perhaps trained in combat – but none of them seemed accurate.

After a while of debating plausible explanations for Beron's offer, the court decided to head home to the City of Starlight in order to get a good night's rest before their meeting tomorrow. The High Lord and High Lady were going, as well as Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan was not permitted in the Autumn Court, so she would stay behind with Nesta to hold down the fort while they were gone. Amren would also be travelling to the Autumn Court, and although the monster she was no longer crawled beneath her skin, she made most people wary.

As he lay in his bed, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what awaited him tomorrow. He was curious about what the Autumn High Lord wanted, especially regarding his daughter, although he was also wary. Although Autumn had helped them in the war, they couldn't be trusted. Azriel fell into an uneasy sleep, cautious of the days to come.

Tumblr media

Azriel awoke at dawn the next day. They weren't due in the Autumn Court until the evening, so Azriel decided to go through his morning exercises. The Valkyries weren't up yet, so he went through his warm ups, taking his shirt off halfway through. The morning was uneventful, and Azriel ran over the information they had in his head. Eris had suggested that Beron may be seeking a favour of some sort, so perhaps it had something to do with that.

The day passed by quickly, and soon enough, those travelling to the Autumn Court had gathered in the living room of the River House, just as they had planned. Azriel and Cassian wore their scaled, black armour, while Rhys and Feyre wore their finery. Rhysand held his mate's arm, and Azriel grabbed onto Cassian, before winnowing to the entrance of the Autumn Court castle.

It was big, and made of stone. It was quite majestic, if Azriel was being honest – high towers and red and orange flags waving in the wind, large windows showcasing rich carpets and tapestries inside.

Rhys led the way, Feyre on his arm and Cassian and Azriel following closely, and Amren trailing behind. Guards monitored them as they passed through the halls, their armour heavier the closer they got to the throne room. Azriel marked each one as they passed, something he was sure Cassian and Rhysand were also doing.

The doors to the throne room opened, and revealed the High Lord of the Autumn Court sat atop a dais, the Lady of Autumn seated beside him. Beron's sons stood on his left, and his daughter was seated to her mother's right.

Azriel paused at the sight of her. She was beautiful, even by Fae standards. Her h/c hair shone in the Fae light liming the walls, piled neatly on her head in a braid crown. Y/n’s e/c eyes sparked with mischief and curiosity, skimming over the members of Azriel's Court, until they finally landed on him. Her gaze was mesmerising, and Azriel couldn't find it in himself to break it. A small smirk played at the corners of her mouth, as if she were aware of the effect she had on him, although Azriel's mask of icy cold had not budged even an inch. Azriel quickly tore his eyes away from the Daughter of Autumn, marking the guards posted by the doors and the dais, and counting the weapons each of Beron's sons carried.

"Beron," Rhysand purred, ever the arrogant High Lord, the mask back up despite the High Lords' meeting all those months ago. "So lovely to see you again. Thank you for inviting us to stay."

Beron rose from his dias and stalked towards the High Lord of the Night Court. Everyone tensed as he stepped closer and closer, and Azriel subtly reached for the dagger at his side. Beron's blood would spray across the marble floors the second Azriel suspected he would harm his High Lord or Lady. But Beron simply held his hand out, and Rhys gripped it tightly, his eyes holding a small amount of surprise.

"Rhysand. A pleasure to have you here," Beron replied. Azriel didn't miss the slight strain in his voice. "You must be hungry. Shall we?"

Beron inclined his head to the dining room and led the way with Rhysand and Feyre at his side. He hadn't even acknowledged the High Lady, something that made Azriel want to rip the male’s head off, but Rhys got there first.

“And what about my High Lady?” Rhys purred, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Beron’s smile faltered slightly, and he glanced at Feyre with a barely concealed look of distaste, as if he would rather rip off his own toenails than address a female with the same amount of respect that he would expect. Azriel felt a protective anger surge through him, and he watched carefully, curious as to what the High Lord’s next move would be.

“Of course,” Beron said, his voice dripping with fake courtesy. “My apologies, Lady Feyre. Of course it is wonderful to have you both visit.”

Cassian gave Azriel a look that said, And-what-about-us? Aren't-we-wonderful?

Azriel sent him a look back that said, Shut-the-fuck-up.

Beron led them all to the dining room, the Autumn colours present everywhere they looked. The chairs were all high-backed, and Azriel knew that Beron did not care if he and Cassian would be comfortable with their wings. Everyone took their seats — Beron at the head, Rhysand to his left, and Feyre beside him. Azriel sat next to his High Lady, Cassian taking his seat adjacent to the shadowsinger. The Lady of Autumn (still not a High Lady, despite the fact that Viviane was also now a High Lady) sat to Beron’s right, Eris beside her, and Y/n next to him, and across from Azriel. Azriel felt Y/n’s eyes on him, and he met her gaze. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look of anticipation mixed with mischief.

Dinner was served, an array of meats and vegetables placed on the table by servants, mostly lesser fairies. None of them looked Azriel in the eye, and he wondered if it was because they knew who and what he was, or if they’d been trained not to. Y/n, however, had no such qualms about this, and stared at the shadowsinger unabashedly.

Beron struck up a conversation with Rhys — small talk, something that Azriel internally cringed at, because it was definitely just to fill the silence. Ever the gracious guest, Rhysand responded in kind, although Azriel knew he was wondering what Beron’s ulterior motives were.

“How do your siphons work?”

The table went silent as Y/n spoke, her cunning eyes trained on Azriel. Beron looked at his daughter with a hint of irritation gleaming in his eyes, as if it was unacceptable for her to speak without permission. Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who was watching the daughter of Autumn with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

“How do you know that is what they are called?” Rhys asked, his eyes trained on the only daughter of Autumn.

She shrugged, and answered, “I read a lot in my spare time. I remember reading about the Illyrians, and their siphons. If I remember correctly, Illyrians tend to possess only one, yet the two of you hold several.”

“There is no need to question our guests, Y/n,” Beron scolded firmly.

Y/n frowned. “I was simply curious.”

“Do not speak back to me,” Beron reprimanded, a burning fury now evident in his eyes.

Y/n slumped back into her chair slightly and bowed her head. “My apologies, Father.”

Beron didn’t even acknowledge his daughter before he turned back to Rhys, as if her mere existence didn’t deserve another moment of his time. Azriel watched the female in front of him as she stared at her plate, and felt a sense of sympathy for her. Azriel owed her nothing — he did not know the female in front of him, did not know if she even deserved his sympathy — and yet he felt the need to protect, to wipe that blank expression off of her face.

“Our siphons act as a conduit for our raw power,” Azriel offered, causing Y/n to look up. Beron paused, glancing at the shadowsinger and the Autumn daughter, and Azriel continued, “It helps to control our magic, to make it precise and nimble, rather than a messy outburst of power.”

Cassian gaped at his brother, as if he had never heard that many words come out of Azriel’s mouth in one sitting. While that was an inaccurate statement, it was true that Azriel never tended to speak in front of new people. He wasn’t sure why he had done so anyway. But Y/n bowed her head in thanks at the information, perhaps still wary of answering and speaking without her father’s permission, but Azriel had observed a small, triumphant light in the female’s eyes at his reply.

Azriel watched as that gleam faded when Beron cleared his throat, gaining the attention from everyone in the room.

“There is a reason why I have asked you here,” Beron stated.

“Surprise, surprise,” Cassian muttered, and Azriel elbowed him.

Beron glanced at Cassian for all of a second before continuing, “There has been an attempt on my daughter’s life.” Stunned silence met Beron’s words, and Azriel caught Y/n rolling her eyes. That raised his suspicion — were Beron’s words false, or did she simply believe it was not an issue? “If it appeals to you,” Beron went on, “I seek to employ one of your Night Court warriors as her personal bodyguard.”

Rhys blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Beron looked at Rhys expectantly, and Azriel could have guessed the thoughts that flew around Rhys’s head.

“Why one of my warriors?” Rhys inquired carefully.

“I hoped it might help strengthen bonds between our courts,” Beron expressed.

Azriel watched the High Lord of the Autumn Court carefully. There seemed to be no ulterior motives hidden within his demeanour — he did not shift nervously, none of his facial features even so much as twitched.

“And say I agree to this,” Rhys said casually, “how long would you hold onto one of my warriors?”

“Until the threat against my daughter’s life is eliminated,” Beron answered.

There was silence for a few moments while everyone processed what was happening. Azriel looked at Eris to see the male’s eyes on his father. They were carefully guarded, a mask in place to ensure no one was able to discern what he was thinking. Azriel turned his gaze to Y/n, and a shadow slithered up by his ear.

She does not believe it to be such a serious matter, the shadow whispered. She wishes for this dinner to be over so she may go back to her quarters and finish her novel.

Azriel blinked in surprise at the information from his shadow. Usually, his shadows would tell him what others could not see and hear — but this felt almost like too much. Yes, his shadows had a tendency to recognise when someone was lying, or what weapons they were concealing, but to give him a person’s unvoiced opinion on a matter was something new.

But indeed, with her chin propped up on her delicate hand, and twirling her dessert fork in the other, she appeared to be completely disinterested. Azriel turned his gaze back to the male beside her, to see Eris already watching his sister. His eyes were cold and calculating as he regarded her, as if he was mentally playing out how this ‘bodyguard’ situation would go. With the slight frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards, Azriel assumed Eris did not believe it would end well.

“Please, do take time to come to a decision,” Beron offered. “I do understand this is a lot to ask.”

“We shall have an answer by the end of the week,” Rhys said with a nod.

Beron nodded back, and Azriel wondered what they were getting themselves into.

TAGLIST: @honeybee54321 @marigold-morelli @lucky7rosie @itsswritten @paankhaleyaar @bubybubsters @5onedirection5 @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @thelov3lybookworm @blushingfawnsposts @thisiskaylin

(users in bold could not be tagged)

665 notes · View notes

thehighladywrites · 3 months

Text

ACOTAR MEN X READER, BEING THEIR SNEAKY LINK

Tumblr media

Tumblr media

Tumblr media

☀︎ — summary: sneaking around with the acotar men👀 How long does this go on?

☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw themes, tw beron🤢 mentioned

☀︎ — amara’s note: had this idea for a while, let’s bring this to life😈oh to be sneaking around with them🙏🏽💔

Tumblr media

Rhysand

With him, no one finds out until you tell everyone

He is able to keep the links sneaky for sure, also he masks your scents so that no one can tell

No one really suspects that ur sleeping together because he isn’t paying any suspicios amount of attention to you.

He makes it up later though👀

At first, it was just a way for him to recover from Under the Mountain, so he sought you out for help in order to gain back some controll.

And he got better and began to carefully heal, yet here you both were, still sneaking around years later.

Yeah, years bc that is how good he’s able to keep secrets.

Oh, he gets jealous too and masks it as being a good friend and high lord when asked about it by the rest of the inner circle.

His favorite trick is telling the ic he’s sending you on a mission so they think ur gone, then he suggests them eating out while you’re gone then tells them he can’t make it so he stays at home and then you guys can stay at the house unbothered and alone

Since he gets jealous, he gives you hickies or make your legs so sore you can’t walk

Rhys looooves the attention you get during morning training for the others

“Are you okay, did you trip or something?”

“No, no Az,I’m fine. I was just doing some stretches and I think I overdid it.”

Rhysand just stands there happier than ever as you glare at him

Azriel

Guys, let’s be so real. Azriel ain’t getting caught, ever💀

He teaches you tricks on how to hide better when you’re coming over to his room

And it’s usually his room you hook up in bc he has trained himself to notice anything being off. Like if a book has been moved like a millimeter, he knows so it’s the safest and least risky place for you to be.

Because he is so attentive and sneaky, he is incredibly risky

He loves risky sex. Bro will fuck your brains out knowing people are close bc he knows he’s able to cover it up

Azriel also uses his shadows on you in broad daylight.

You’re out for dinner w the inner circle and his shadows teases and rub your clit under the table. You use your magic to suppress your arousal but it’s kind of hard to not squirm and all that

Az just sits there cocky as fuck knowing that he makes you react like that without even touching you

So so so soooo much jealousy on your side bc Azriel gets hit on all the time, males, females, youngsters, oldies, bro everyone wants him

People don’t hit on you tho because Azriel is always standing behind you, exuding that scary aura and energy that has people running the other way

Even after you two become official, you keep it under wraps. You don’t want anyone or anything ruining it for you so it’s all very hush hush

Only years after, when your friends ask why none of you date people, do you spill. You tell them you and Azriel are together already but it’s a private relationship

They were a little pissed but they let it go when they saw how happy you were and how good your dynamic is

Eris

He is sneaking around with you because of both your parents

You’re the daughter of one of B*ron’s🤢 close advisors so you and Eris spend a lot of time together

Eventually it develops into a secret relationship with a lot of sex

You both know your parents would hung you both if you ever got exposed but you still do it.

You both act like you’re somewhat of enemies or don’t like each other in public so that no one can even rise suspicions againt you.

Behind closes doors he sluts you out like crazyyyyy, i’m talking any type of sex, rough, soft, different positions, different places, new things added, toys, rope, cuffs this man is kinky I KNOW ITTT

like he has no controll over his life bc of b*ron 🤢 so he likes taking controll in the bedroom and dominate, yum👀

It all becomes more interesting and exciting when your parents decide it’s high time to get engaged and married.

Your suitors always wonder why you’re late and messy, what they don’t know is that you were busy getting bent over by eris

anyways when b*ron 🤢 dies and eris takes over, the sneaky link ain’t sneaky anymore. The man fully claims you, even making you his high lady.

Ugh i love him💔💔💔💔

Lucien

You’re Cassian’s sister and you’re hooking up with him on the down low

Lucien caught your eye when he and Feyre came back from Spring.

He seemed uncomfortable around everyone and kept to himself, until you started spending more time with him

Time turned your companionship to a secret relationship

Please, we all know how charming Lucien is, I mean, shit I’d fall for him too🫨🫨

Sorry @thelov3lybookworm but your man is so fuckable💗

Anyways, he is super charming and silver tounged and that makes you jump his bone immediately

This guy is amazing with his tounge, head game goes CRAZYYYYY

At first it’s just sex, but then instead of fucking then leaving, you begin to stay during the nights and talk for hours.

Eventually you realize the depth of your bond and how much you love one another.

You were quite nervous when telling Cassian bc Illyrian’s are super protective and possessive over their family but he is fine with it bc he knows that there aren’t better males than Lucien

Anyways, you keep sneaking around bc you don’t want to outright make out infront of the inner circle so you sneak away at parties, meetings and dinners.

This man is a risktaker just like Azriel. I know he sneaks up from behind, saying crazy and stomach flipping things, waiting for your reaction then fucks you in whatever place you are

Cassian

You’re Lord Devlon’s daughter and you sneak around with him.

No one knows about your magic from your mother’s side that you use to remove any trace of cassian

At first you hated him bc of your father and bc he manipulated you into thinking cassian and his friends were dangerous

There is banter and mean words exchanged between you that only makes the sexual tension between you even stronger

One night you both snap and have hate sex and that one night becomes the start of years of secret meetings and rendezvous.

Whenever he's in Windhaven, you two have a blast. To dodge curious eyes, you've got this genius plan: throw a party whenever Cassian conveniently has a meeting or mission there. With everyone a bit tipsy, it's the perfect cover for linking up

After a while you’re caught by Devlon himself and all hell breaks loose. Rhysand has to come down and solve everything before blood spills

Devlon disowns you and would have killed you had it not been for Cassian protecting you from your father

So he takes you to Velaris where you live with him and eventually become an advisor for Rhysand since he hasn’t lived there for years and would benefit from someone who was so close to Devlon

You have so much fun and yeah, that’s how you went from hate sex, fuck buddies, in love and eventually mates

Tumblr media

814 notes · View notes

azsazz · 1 year

Text

Sanctum

Azriel x Cassian x Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Okay so for the a/b/o. What if a bad guy (Illyrian camp lord, Beron, Hybern, etc) takes the reader/omega of one of the bat boys while the reader is in heat to bring the bat boys to them or something and they have to get them back but also fuck their brains out 😂

Warnings: SMUT, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, anal, fingering, breeding kink.

Word Count: 4,376

Notes: I think my mind just went "why have one when you can have three" cuz lately i've been down bad for all of them

_________________________________________

“Az,” you whimper, writhing in his hold. You’re sweating and shaking in his arms, and the cooler autumn breeze tells him that winter is coming. Your nails dig sharply into the muscles of his back because you’re so uncomfortable, even though he’s holding you so closely. “It hurts too much.”

His heart pounds in his chest as he angles his wings to keep you in the current. He hates that you’re feeling so poorly right now, but they have to get you away from Autumn, and fast. Azriel winces, tightening his grip around you as you squirm. Your nose buried into his neck does nothing to ease your heat, the close proximity only makes your cunt throb and you wish he were holding you differently so you can rut up against him.

“I know, my mate,” he murmurs, but it's strained. His own body wants to react to you, your mating bond calling to his, and he’s never held his body so taut while flying before. His pupils keep dilating as your scent swarms around you both, your slick intoxicating. He knows how needy you are, how painful this must be for you, but he’s incredibly thankful that he and his brothers had found you in time before Eris or one of the other alphas in Beron’s court came to your aid.

His jaw tightens as he thinks about what could’ve happened to you, his precious little omega stolen away from her home to use against them.

He’ll kill them all.

The brassy tone of Azriel’s voice soaks through your skin to settle in your bones. It only makes you cry harder, utterly helpless and knowing that there’s nothing that you can do to make the unbearable heat dim. Even though you’re desperate to be home, where you can be safe and really sink into your omegaspace while your big, bad alphas protect you, your body is craving a knot, now.

Azriel casts a hopeless look to his brothers, flanking the both of you as he carries you. The smell of your heat and the desperate gnashing of your bond is affecting them too. Cassian’s face is red, thick brows pulled tight in a furrow as he watches Azriel struggle to keep you still. Rhys frowns deeply, hardly able to take his eyes off of you to scout the areas ahead.

“We won’t make it.” Rhys swoops as close as he can while avoiding Azriel’s shifting wings. His voice carries over the wind. You’re still hours from the house and he and Azriel are both too drained to winnow, but Cauldron be damned they’ll get you to safety, no matter how much their wings ache. “We need to stop.”

Azriel cuts him a look, jaw set. “There’s nowhere to stop.”

“She’s clearly in pain, Az,” Cassin nearly growls at the sound of another mewl of agony. He tries to flush soothing feelings down the bond to you but it does nothing to lessen the spasms of your heat.

“I know,” he bites back, “Fuck—I know.”

But he’s not wrong. Night has settled, and while you’re still hours away from the House of Wind, there’s no lodging in the mountains nearby. The Hewn City hadn’t ever been an option.

“Az,” you cry out. Their bickering isn’t helping. If anything, it’s making everything ache even more, the throbbing between your legs incessant no matter how tightly you clench your thighs together.

Knock her out, Cassian sends to Rhys through their mind connection, and the High Lord opens the path for Azriel to communicate through as well. It’s better this way, for your safety.

Azriel’s grip around you tightens, his lips finding your forehead, a comforting motion for the shadowsinger. You’re burning hot, sweat beading your hairline, even though you’re vibrating in his arms. Your tight grip has slackened already as the pain of your heat consumes you, and the rattling of your breathing worries him more than he’d ever admit.

We can’t do that, he sends back, but the look Rhysand wears is the same one he does when he has to make a tough call involving his court. It’s the last thing he wants to do, and his own power drain is palpable, but to get you to safety, he’ll tap himself out. They all will.

We can’t leave her like this, Cassian bites back in his alpha voice. It makes the hair on his brother’s necks rise. He’s more frustrated than them, being the first one to bond with you will do that to a male. And with his own rut nearing, he’s been on edge as of late.

Azriel ignores the both of them, taking a deep breath before he flaps his wings harder, picking up more speed. He’s losing steam quickly, days without sleep while searching for you and fighting off anyone who dared get in their way was not easy. They could feel your fear and distress through the bond, the way that you hardly touched the food they’d given you and kept yourself awake, fighting your captors even as your heat began to sink in.

“I need you to touch yourself for me, love.” He sounds so gentle, like you’re some fragile thing in his arms that’ll break at the next bank of wind. “Can you do that for me?”

You shake your head no, afraid to even speak, knowing that your voice will break.

“Please, love,” he begs, “It’ll help.”

“It’ll hurt worse,” you croak, blinking tears from your eyes as your desperation rises, “I need it, Az. I need your knot.”

He groans, smothering his face in your scent glands to get a whiff of your drug-like aroma. He teeths over the bond mark on your neck, a brand of his own, set between by both of his brothers' indentions, proof that they are your alphas and you, their omega.

And the last thing your alphas want is for you to hurt.

He lets his instincts take over, drawing his wings into his back as he nosedives. He lets his spymaster mind take over, eyes scanning for the best area to stop and rest. The wind whips at his face and the fabric of your skirts slaps against his body as you freefall.

With a stroke of luck he spots a cave. It’s not nearly as hidden as he’d like, but there are no other options right now. It will have to do.

Azriel sends his plans to your other pack members, who immediately follow the spymaster’s silent instructions. Cassian stalks ahead when you land on the ground with a jolt, scoping out the area while Rhys moves closer to help settle the raging bond in your chest.

“Just a few more moments, darling, I promise you,” he speaks softly, brushing the hair from your wet cheeks before running a soothing hand across your soft skin. His power thrums through you but does nothing to stave away the gnawing, uncomfortable feeling gnashing in your gut.

“All clear,” Cassian calls, voice echoing loudly throughout the darkening night. It makes the other two wince, Azriel tucking you closer to his chest as he goes on high alert. Ater a brief pause where he scans the area, straining to hear for potential threats over the rushed sound of your heart in your chest, he makes their way deeper into the cave while Rhys sets off in search of firewood.

Cassian’s already stripped himself of his thick coat and shirt, laying it out on the cold, stony ground as a bed of sorts for you. His muscular, tanned chest on display has more slick dripping from your cunt, undergarments soaked through. The light dusting of hair across his large pectorals makes you flare up, and you so desperately want to reach out for him, to touch the soft hairs beckoning to you like a beacon, but you’re too weak to unclench your fist from Azriel’s shirt.

You whimper and the warlord scrambles, reaching out to relieve Azriel of his duties. He looks bone tired, dark circles around his eyes and mouth set in a permanent frown. He’d been hard as a rock the entire time he’d been carrying you, his body reacting to your heat, ready to give you everything that you could ever need, but your protection will always come first.

He presses in close, his bare body touching yours and you huff out a sigh as the thrumming in your chest becomes more bearable from his warm skin pressed up against you. Cassian is gentle with you, setting you down onto his jacket to help you with your own clothes.

You rake your nails across any skin you can find as he works, body writhing on top of the warm threads beneath you. The throbbing between your legs is driving you insane, and you need him, you need him like the sun needs the sky, like the moon needs darkness.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” he reassures, but there’s still too much clothing between the two of you. Azriel’s made himself scarce, off to help Rhysand prepare for the long night in the cave with their omega in heat. They’ll need all of the protection they can get. He only hopes they’ll be able to sate you enough before you’re needing to go for another round so they can finally transport you the rest of the way home in the morning.

You shiver as he drags the lace covering your needy cunt down, tossing them over his shoulder without care. His nostrils flare as the scent of your slick hits his nose and his cock strains against the leathers he’d only gotten so far as to untying. He bends to kiss and lick at your wet thighs but there’s no time for foreplay, you need his knot and you need it now.

But you don’t need to speak a word, the bond you share with Cassian lets him know exactly how much you’re in need of relief. He lets your hands slide up the hills and valleys of his back as he shifts away to rid himself of the confining leathers, but your fingers slip up into his hair and tug him to a stop.

The alpha growls and you keen in response, nipples tightening and thighs spreading as you submit to the noise. He huffs, shoving his pants down and kicking them away into the pile with his boots before he’s leaning over you and molding his body to yours, pressing a kiss of apology over the red indentations of the bite mark of his you wear proudly.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling his body even tighter to yours. His cock slides against your soaking cunt and you need to scream but his mouth is on yours, swallowing the noises trying to escape your throat as he shoves into you with a predatory groan.

Stars burst behind your closed eyelids, body vibrating at the sensation of finally being claimed by your alpha. You’d never staved off your heat like this before. Either your alphas were there to take care of you or you had your plethora of toys to help relieve some of the pain, but as you’d sat in one of the suites in the burrows of the Woodland House, the thought of getting off to help the pain subside was met with the fear that one of the men there would try something with you.

“Cassian,” you moan as he licks across your bond mark again. You swear that you can feel his soul tangling with yours at every thrust, feverish and rushed, your alpha wanting to help you through your prolonged heat. He doesn’t like seeing you in pain like this, and he’s proving it by fucking into you the way you crave, not loving and teasing like he normally is. No, this is hungry and raw, the need to take care of what’s his outweighing his own need to be gentle.

You’re already getting near. A single touch from them could get you off in the throes of your heat, but after having forced yourself back for so long, it’s taken him longer than he’d like to admit to get you to this point. Cassian licks his way down your neck and to your nipple, swirling his tongue before nipping at it with sharp teeth, and your body arches into his as you whine while your orgasm rips through you.

Some of the haze clears from your mind when you come back to, but you’re just as desperate for him to follow you. You can feel Cassian’s knot swelling already and you wait with a baited breath until he releases with possessive snarl, locking him into you as hot spurts of his seed fills your needy cunt.

You feel as though you can finally breathe again, even with the warm weight of your biggest alpha pinning you to the ground. You feel safe in his arms but the itch comes back quickly, consuming you as you catch the scent of your other alphas on the autumn breeze.

“More,” you cry desperately, swirling your hips but it does nothing to move the cock that’s locked deeply into you. “I need more.”

Hurry up, Cassian snaps through their mental shields as he drags his hands down your sides and across your hind. He scoops some of the slickness from between your legs, grunting as his cock throbs again, releasing even more cum into your tight cunt. It’ll go on like this for a long moment, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get you prepared.

You shudder through a moan as he circles a finger around your pucker, a gentle tease before he presses it inside. You sigh against his lips, giving him a thankful kiss as he helps fill your needs.

Azriel strides into the cave by the time Cassian’s worked you up to three fingers, his face set and mouth downturned as always. You know him better than that, understand that the hard look in his gold-flecked eyes isn’t because of you or even the alpha knotting you, it’s because he feels as if this isn’t a safe enough place to mount you and claim you as his.

Overprotective alpha.

Cassian is careful to shuffle you around, tucking you close to his body as he maneuvers himself under you so that your ass is on display for the scowling alpha. You mewl as his knot is jostled, but he stays tucked tightly into your cunt. They’re good about giving each other space at home, but with how long you’ve been needing them, your bond calls out to all of them like a siren song.

There’s a pile of wood in Azriel’s arms but Rhys hasn’t made his way back to the cave yet, scouting the surroundings and preparing himself for the night ahead. He’s still collecting firewood, and Azriel drops his own carelessly at his feet, his hands already dragging his shirt up the toned planes of his chest, responding to his omegas call.

He settles onto his knees behind you, letting his shadows drape themselves in lone lines down your back. You shiver, their cool claws brushing your heated skin in a way the makes your cunt flutter and you beg.

Azriel hushes you softly, admiring the sight of you stretched out on Cassian’s fingers, his cock. His lips part to taste the scent of your arousal in the air and he so desperately wants a taste of his delectable omega, but your wild cries for him to fuck you have him ripping Cassian’s fingers from you to replace with his rock hard length.

Your broken moan echoes throughout the cabin and into the autumn winds outside, calling Rhysand home to you with every sound. There’s nothing he can do except glamor the mouth of the cave. He has to concentrate harder than he’s had to since he was young and learning the skill, but the pleasurable sounds you’re making are very distracting. Sweat lines his brow as he forces his powers out, shoving away the weariness he feels from exuding too much of it in the search for you.

He drags himself inside and all but collapses into a heap next to you and the other alphas. He’d love nothing more but to shut his eyes and rest for a moment, but he can’t look away from you, mouth hanging open and eyes rolled into the back of your skull as Azriel fucks you frevorently from behind.

“Fuck, Az,” Cassian hisses, fingers digging into your hips. His chest is heaving under you, pressing you up and down, rubbing you between your alphas chests. Your hardened nipples brush over his tanned skin and they’re so sensitive that it makes you cum again. The feeling of Az’s cock through your walls is astounding, and everytime he shares you this way he’s just as surprised by the feeling, especially when he feels his own sensitive cock preen as the shadowsinger’s knot expands. “I’m going to cum again.”

“Do it,” you beg, clutching onto his arms. Azriel’s hands snake around your shoulders to tug you up, and the change of the angle he's pressing into you has you seeing stars. With a hand gripping your chin, he tilts your head so that he can finally kiss you.

Cassian cums again with a roar that shakes the mountain and makes the other two alphas growl in alert. He doesn’t care, baring his teeth at them as he tries to pry you out of Azriel’s arms, to no avail.

You meet the eyes of your third alpha, the High Lord who’s lounging like the playboy he is, beside you with a glare that melts into a tired smirk when he catches you staring.

You reach out to him, pleading him to join in because you need him, it still hurts even though two of your alphas are fulfilling your needs right now.

But you need them all.

“Please, please, please, please, please!” Your plea for him twists into chants for Azriel, his knot growing deeply inside of you as he cums, lapping at his mark on your neck. He wishes it were the one on the meat of your thigh, his other favorite place to pleasure you. For now, this will do.

Rhys scoots closer when you collapse on Cassian’s chest, soft noises of approval drifting from your mouth. Your eyes flutter from how incredible you feel, but you’re still hot all over and you know that you won’t be feeling like yourself until you’ve had all three of your alphas multiple times.

“You know I can’t help you right now, darling,” he drawls, tucking a strand of hair back behind your ear. Your fingers dart up to catch his wrist before he’s able to pull away, so he settles on brushing the smooth skin of your cheek instead.

“You can,” you whimper back, but he’s already shaking his head.

“I don’t like to do that, my sweet,” but there’s no High Lord demands in the tone of his voice, so you know that you can push him.

“Rhys,” you swallow harshly, trying to focus on him for a second instead of on the hot seed filling you to the brim from your other alphas. “I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t sure. I need you too.”

He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and you bite back a whimper because you think you’ve gone too far, that Rhys won’t help you at all.

“Alright,” he says softly and you breathe a sigh of relief.

His eyes glow brighter as he enters your mind.

Rhys doesn’t like meddling in your mind, but sometimes when your heat is too much, it’s all he can do. Your body thrives on having all three of your alphas inside of you, and he’d be willing to fuck your throat, but knowing just how bad this heat is for you, he doesn’t want to risk it.

Instead, he caresses your inner being. You can feel him in your head, the images he’s showing you, you bent over the counter in the kitchen, taking his cock like the good little omega you are for him. There’s one of him slurping the slick from between your thighs like a starved male, until your legs could no longer hold you up and his tongue was buzzing from the amount of times he’d gotten you off.

And there’s one of the future flooding your vision as you whine for more. One of his favorite thoughts, you chasing around after a little boy who howls with laughter and looks just like him.

That’s the one that makes you cum harder than you ever have before, your vision whiting out as your body slackens on top of Cassian, sliding into your omegaspace.

They hold you like that for a long time. Azriel draped over your back and Cassian under you, keeping you warm as the chill of the night sets in and even after their knots go down. Rhys runs his hand in a soothing pattern against any skin he can find, even as he shuts his eyes to rest.

You’re sated and happy, surrounded by your alphas, until you’re not.

You wake with a start, writhing in the space between Cassian and Rhys. Your hairline is damp with sweat and the ache between your legs is back. You whimper into the darkness of the cave, hoping to rouse one of your sleeping alphas, preferably the one you haven’t been filled with yet.

Azriel is nowhere to be seen, on patrol no doubt.

Rhys wakes to a stiff cock and you rutting against him, begging him for relief. He blinks away the sleep in his eyes only for his pupils to dilate as he zeroes in on the scent of your slick.

He’s quick to roll on top of you, caging you in with his forearms pressed to the pile of coats and clothes they’d set you upon to sleep. The undergarments that he’d been reluctant to put back on for this reason are gone with a snap, his hips tilting down to dip into your wetness. You both groan at the feeling and you cling to him like a bat.

You’ve been waiting for him, your alpha and High Lord alike. His touch is demanding, wanting all of your attention on him as he sheaths himself inside of you in one fell swoop. He doesn’t want to share, and right now, with Cassian snoring softly beside you and Azriel taking rounds in the woods, he doesn't have to.

Rhys doesn’t waste any time. He can feel how badly you’re craving him, squirming on his cock like the good girl you are. Your fingers leave crescent shaped marks on his shoulders and he leaves behind bruises where his fingertips hold your hips still to pound into you.

Even in the darkness, you can see that there’s no violet in his eyes. They’re a reflection of the night sky, looking at you like you’re the moon, heavenly in the way that you move, sound in response to him. He loves you, through and through.

The bond thrums in your chest as he ruts into you, swirling his hips as he lowers himself flush to you. He slips into your mind, letting you feel everything that you’re doing to him, and it’s nearly too much, to be able to feel his heart pounding in your chest against yours, the blistering arousal coursing through his veins.

“I’m going to put an heir in you to rule the court, darling, will you give me that?” Rhys’ voice is dark, more alpha than Illyrian right now but it’s exactly what you need. You need his roughened hands manhandling you into positions best for breeding, you need those dark eyes pinned to yours, knowing that his words are nothing but truth, you need his knot to fill you with his seed to give him exactly what he wants.

Your body arches into his on instinct and you bare your throat to him. He lets out a predatory growl and noses along your scent gland, devouring the familiar sweetness he’s been craving. The urge to mark you again is strong, his body vibrating as he tries to hold himself back. But then you answer.

“I’ll give you a whole litter, alpha,” you moan, and he bites.

The sensation explodes throughout your body. You cry out in pleasure as you cum on his cock, walls flexing around him in a motion that only makes his hips move faster and his teeth clamp tighter.

You’re pulling at his hair, clawing down his sides trying to drag him closer, as if somehow you’ll be able to manage to absorb your alpha into your very being. Your mating bond vibrates and you can feel the warm, golden tendrils as they meet his, twisting and twining around each other in tight knots that will never be able to become undone.

“I can’t wait to see it,” his voice sounds like he’s swallowed sand, rough like it hasn’t been used in ages. “Your belly swollen with my pups. I bet it will drive your other alphas wild.”

His voice holds a breathy falter, and the visions of you heavily pregnant flit through his mind. It makes him release a desperate sound and his ships stutter, knot swelling as he shares the images with you.

He cums with a sound that brings courts to their knees and sends shivers up your spine, knot locking into place deep in your cunt. He swears that this will be the time that his seed takes, Cauldron willing.

“Let’s find out,” you pant, brushing some of the hair from his face. Rhys stares down at you, noting how the cloudy look from your heat has subsided now that you’re being knotted, and he can see nothing but the truth glimmering in your soft gaze.

Rhys swallows roughly, leaning down to breathe in your scent deeply. It’s always calmed him, even in the worst scenarios. You are his rock, his home. “You’re ready for pups?” he asks like he’s afraid of your answer.

You can’t bite back the grin splitting your lips.

“Yes, Rhys, it’s time to grow the pack.”

#azsazz omegaverse #azriel x cassian x rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azsazz #a/b/o

1K notes · View notes

lorcandidlucienwill · 2 months

Text

I swear to god, I can’t believe someone has to make a post about this.

“Lucien is hanging out with Tamlin again!” is often used as a reason to vilify Lucien in this fandom and it’s the most ridiculous shit ever. “You will need Tamlin as an ally before the dust has settled. Tread carefully.”

It doesn't matter how much Rhysand and Feyre and the Inner Circle despise Tamlin; they need him because they need an alliance with Spring to prevent war from breaking out again. Don't believe Lucien? Eris and Rhys say it too. Eris’s fingers closed around the petals. “Who says he wants land on the continent?” He surveyed the orchard—as if to make a point. Silence fell. Rhys murmured, “Beron knows another war that pits Fae against Fae would be catastrophic. Many of us would be wiped out entirely. Especially …” Rhys tilted his head back to take in the apple blossoms. “Especially those of us who are weakened. And when the dust settles, there would be at least one court left vacant, its lands bare for the taking.” It's literally Lucien's fucking job to play emissary, to juggle Spring and the human lands and night. So if you want to blame anyone, blame Rhys for giving him that job. Also???? Of course Lucien will have lingering affection for Tamlin? We don't have an exact timeline for how long Lucien served Tamlin, but he served him for at least a century if not more. Of course he has lingering affection for him. He's not going to just ditch him because Tamlin has trauma from UTM and is lashing out. He's the most loyal guy there is. Lucien being vilified using Tamlin is just a desperate hope from IC stans and Elriels to make Lucien look bad.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #tamlin #hands off my man

171 notes · View notes

yearning-for-autumn · 3 months

Text

Lucien NSFW Alphabet

A/N: My baby Lucien means the world to me and I need him carnally in ways you wouldn't understand.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Lucien to me, is the subbiest sub to ever sub. He can switch, but he was born to sub. When he is subbing, he is in it 100% and needs a lottt of aftercare. He needs to be cuddled, praised, maybe a hot bath. Your baby boy just did so well for you, treat him gently.

When he’s your dom though, damn does he take aftercare seriously. He’ll do a full debrief, he needs to know what you did and what you didn’t like. This male loves you so hard, he’s going to take good care of you.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Lucien is quite self-conscious since Amarantha. He used to like his eyes, but he no longer finds his face very attractive. It takes a lot of convincing him that you think he is HOT STUFF.

His favourite part of his body are his forearms because when he rolls his sleeves up you are weakkkk.

His favourite part of your body are probably your eyes and your tits.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Lucien cums soooo prettily, he’ll be flushed and panting and begging ‘Mummy please, please let me cum, please let me cum. I can’t hold it I can’t’ When you finally let him, it’ll spurt all the way up to his chest, his cock is so pent up. He absolutely loves it when you scoop it up onto your finger and feed it to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This boy is absolutely starving for you at all times. When he’s in a more dom mood, his fantasy is to cockwarm you during a meeting. The idea of being buried within you with others watching, suspecting, gets him soooo hard. He would be so cocky about it, he would cum deep inside you and then smirk at the others like his girl was just sooo good for him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I firmly believe that Lucien was an absolute wildchild. Eris could not control him at all, and he was useless enough to Beron as a youth that he was kept on quite a long leash. He was fingering girls in the woods. He absolutely knows what he is doing.

You are the first person he’s ever been comfortable subbing for apart from Jesminda, but they didn’t get too far. He needs leading through it when you first start, but he’s a quick learner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Lucien loveesss having you in his lap, he wants to be as physically close to you as possible. That or he wants you on your hands and knees, back arched, hair down so he can pull you up to him.

When he’s subby he wants to be underneath you, there’s something so vulnerable about seeing you over him whilst he’s lying there, hands tied above him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If he’s subbing he is probably whining, moaning or crying. There’s no time for laughter. If he’s in control then yeah, he’s a cheerful guy, he likes to ease the tension a little sometimes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Lucien’s hair is the pride of his life, but he doesn’t really like having pubes. He doesn’t shave them all off, but he does keep himself very neatly trimmed. He’s just not a massive fan of them. He would prefer if you kept things neat too, but it’s not going to be a dealbreaker if you don’t.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Lucien is capable of incredibly mushy gushy romance that has you absolutely giggling, kicking your feet and blushing. He will cradle you against him, cock buried deep in your wet heat and say something like ‘Gods pretty girl you were just made for me. Taking me so well, I love you so much.’

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lucien needs you, all of the time. He’s a pillow humper, especially when he’s suuuper subby and absolutely craving you, he’ll fuck the pillow desperately like he’s in rut, his cock leaking all over the fabric and making a wet sticky mess. When he cums he’ll be drooling and whining and crying for you, he wishes it was you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Cockwarming - I’ve already written this but gods he just wants to be inside you all day. Imagine him sat at his desk writing letters and you are absolutely dripping down his legs.

Public sex - Lucien wants people to see how good he fucks you. He is Helion’s son through and through.

Mummy kink - Fuckk he has mummy issues and don’t you know it. He’ll suck on your tits and call you mummy. He’s all ‘mummy please, please, I need you so bad, mummy it hurts’.

Edging - Lucien really wants you to control when he can cum, and more than that he wants to be teased all day. You’ll have him fuck your hand, you’ll suck him off, but he can only cum at the end of the day. And he really struggles, he often cums before he’s allowed and needs a lot of comfort after.

Bratting - Lucien is a brat. Lucien is a little shit. Enough said.

Cumming in pants - Lucien is always wet, his cock drools 24/7. Adding to the mess with his cum because he just couldn’t help it. That’s good shit right there.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Lucien is not fussy. He will have you anywhere. You have fucked in every room of his house.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Lucien is wet in his pants all time time for you. His leaky dick is just drooling non stop because he loves you and he’s a horny baby. He wants you to come brush your fingers through his hair and ask him if he wants to sink into your pussy for a little while.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Lucien, whilst loving to push your buttons, needs a gentle hand when being punished. He loves being spanked. He hates being ignored. Be gentle with degradation. His absolutely hard no’s are: blood, anything that will scar, sounding (even though he’s subby he has limits), and tickling. He hates being tickled. He will kick you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Lucien wants to be in your mouth all day everyday. The wet heat surrounding his cock as you spit and choke on him. Fuckkkkk.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can do both because he is multi-faceted. He wants everyone to know that he has mastered every aspect of sex.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Mhm, quickies are good. Especially if he doesn’t get to cum and just gets left hard and needy. You get to cum though, of course, because you are his queen.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes of course Lucien wants to try literally anything with you. Want to try fucking him against a mirror so he can see the tears roll down his cheeks, sure. Want to hold him down and piss on him, I mean there’s a first time for everything. Want to spit in his mouth and slap him round the face, please do, please do.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can be edged for days, but once he finally gets his dick in you he’s cumming pretty quickly honestly. You keep him on edge too much. He cums prematurely in his pants because you kissed him a bit too heatedly. But he’s always ready to go again soon after, don’t you worry.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Most of the toys you own are for him. Buttplugs, vibrating cock rings, a collar, many different ropes in lots of lovely colours to compliment his hair and skin. He wants to be trussed up all pretty for you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will tease you sub or not. He’s a cheeky little brat. ‘Gonna spank me mummy? I was a bad boy, you gonna spank me? You don’t look like you’re ready.’

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The servants know to give you a wide berth when you’re fucking your boy. He’s whining, and he’s moaning and he’s screaming. You make him feel soooo good.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Lucien’s mother is 100% convinced that her angel, perfect, baby is still a virgin. She’s in complete denial about it. Eris has tried to let her down gently, but she was not having it at all. You two have a very healthy sex life and his mother is simply blind.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Lucien’s cock is soo pretty. It’s flushed at the tip and curves upwards slightly and it produces so much precum he has to change his underwear multiple times a day. He used to be embarrassed by it, but to be honest now it just proves how much he wants you. He soaks his pants like a girl and loves to be teased about it (only by you).

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high. But he has very good self control. He won’t bother you about it unless he is 100% sure that you are also in the mood.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sleepy baby needs to be tucked up in bed after an exhausting day of being fucked brainless by his mummy. Give him a little kiss and he’s out cold.

135 notes · View notes

icey--stars · 7 months

Text

Vanserra Brothers (Headcanons)

Headcanons for each of of the Vanserra brothers. All 7, including the ones who passed in the Spring Court incident.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Day 1 of @erisweek2023 (Brotherhood / Family)

a/n: welcome to Eris Week 2023 everyone! I have a couple headcanons coming toward you that will include the headcanons that Born for Tragedy is set in as well as other future stories about Eris or Lucien! So... if anyone starts wondering about my headcanons, bOOM. I had too much fun with this one.

So… let’s start with family/brother headcanons. (post-beron’s death because fuck that guy) also I added a bit of dad!Helion in this because in my hopeful heart, I want the Vanserra brothers to have a real dad.

WARNINGS: MENTIONS ABUSE/TORTURE, VERY ANGSTY, TRAUMA DISCUSSED AND BAD TRAUMA RESPONSES

I hope you enjoy it regardless though! This was actually quite fun to make because I can use it for my other stories when I talk about the Vanserra brothers :)

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

So, Eris has 4 brothers that are still alive. I’ve already named them in Born for Tragedy, but I plan to use the HC across many different stories, so let's talk about them.

Jax is the second eldest Vanserra. He’s probably the one who got abused the least because his personality and stoicness is exactly what Beron wanted for a son.

However, he is widely regarded as having snails for brains, so Eris still got the general position while Beron lived because Eris was more apt in strategy and getting people to do what he wants.

Jax likes to fight and while not too impulsive since his teen years, he tends to be always looking for a fight.

If anyone was going to get him a gift, he’d probably most appreciate armor/weapons. However, make it fancy because he likes to be well dressed and look the most wealthy compared to everyone else.

Jax is the brute warrior of the Vanserras with very little ability to do anything court-related.

Normally, he has quite the cold heart and Eris has struggled to have any sort of relationship with him.

Of course, Eris actually was jealous when Jax was born, as he got more attention than Eris during those times, and Eris wasn’t completely mature enough to realize that the fact he kept seeming to reject Jax, hurt the poor boy more.

So, Eris has the worst relationship with Jax of all and Jax is too standoffish and holds grudges so long that they just can’t find any sort of relationship with each other.

But Eris does keep in mind his brother’s preferences though because he eventually realized his mistake when the now dead, third-eldest Vanserra, Fynn came along.

Now, before we go on about Fynn and perhaps how he died while chasing Lucien to the Spring Court… Jax does know that Eris tries. He does, but he’s salty. That’s all. Salty motherfucker who’s virtually emotionless, but probably the least traumatized of all the brothers.

He was one of the 2 brothers to help Eris chase Feyre into the Winter Court.

Nothing much changes for him when Eris finally becomes High Lord. It’s just a change of seasons for him.

Now, Fynn was kinder than any of the previously born brothers. Beron resented him for it and often punished the boy when he was found being kind to a servant.

So Fynn hardened and by the time he was an adult, he was rageful and absolutely miserable to be around. Such a short fuse and a big boom to go along with it.

Fynn constantly was angry. At Beron, at Eris- not too much at Jax because they mostly ignored each other. Fynn was jealous of Eris.

Eris never did manage to apologize for the whippings that Beron forced him to give Fynn before the brother died.

But in all honesty, Fynn had been broken beyond repair. His kindness cost him and he was angry and rageful all the time. At everyone.

Some say it was a good thing that he died when he did.

The boy was smarter than Jax, but Beron still prized Eris for his manipulation tactics, so of course, Fynn was salty about that as well.

Eris and him often fought, but it was always Eris who cut it short and dismissed his brother. Yet another reason Fynn was so rageful.

He was ignored. A third born meant nothing to everyone. Eris was the prized first born Vanserra. Jax was close enough that they didn’t care. But Fynn meant nothing to them. And worst yet, he was weaker than most of his brothers and had less control over fire than any of them.

In the Spring Court incident, he was one of the two brothers besides Calix (6th born) to die. The third brother chasing Lucien under Beron’s order was Kuhn (5th born). Killed by Tamlin- his rage was at last quelled.

The next brother is Hue, 4th born in the Vanserra line.

By the time that Hue had been born, Eris had managed to get his head out of his ass and swore to protect his youngest brother, helping his mother to raise them in secret and helped his brother deal with Beron’s beatings.

Hue was as kind as Fynn, and he was intelligent as well. He was fascinated by everything. However, Beron called him his “failure.” The boy acted more like a scholar than anyone else in the Forest House.

At one point, Beron ordered Eris to take the boy during some constructive early teen years to a cabin and raise him. Eris had mastered seeming as cruel and manipulative as his father by this point. Eris kept his rage down and followed orders.

Eris fostered his brother’s scholarly heart, but trained him well to never show that weakness to his father. Hue was a more lanky brother, and while training was enjoyable, he preferred reading in his rooms.

But in any battle (which he has been in many, as he was the other brother helping to chase Feyre with Eris), he is very fast. The quickest reflexes.

He’s one of the more emotional brothers, but hides it well.

He enjoys the finer aspects of magic. The beautiful parts– not burning someone’s face off, but using it to make a piece of artwork.

Hue is fascinated by shiny little trinkets that he can collect and either hide or put on his bookshelves to decorate them. His bookshelves are a mess.

But he also enjoys art. Drawing, painting and other various options are some of his favorite pastimes as he tries to capture the beauty of a very simple scene in a canvas.

So, if you were getting him a gift, the best option is a bunch of little trinkets, a lifetime supply of books (which is exactly what Helion does as he gains Hue’s trust. He gives him little trinkets maybe with a little bit of magic from his libraries and then gives Hue free access to said libraries whenever he wishes for it) and maybe some art supplies, but Hue doesn’t need much. He just needs a canvas, pencil and then some paints to be happy.

When Eris becomes High Lord– Hue is very happy when he allows him to explore any and all interests he has. And Eris is very proud of him 🥹🥹🥹

The next Vanserra, the 5th born, is Kuhn. Kuhn is similar to Jax in ways, as they both have quite broad shoulders and enjoy training. Eris is more lanky than Kuhn, but no matter for either of them. Kuhn gives better hugs that way.

Now, seeing as Hue was such a “success” when being raised by Eris, as soon as Kuhn was able to be fed solid food, he was whisked away to the cabin.

Eris promised his mother to care for his brother. Kuhn grew up very similar to Hue– free from Beron’s wrath, but trained to avoid it, and not get either of them in trouble when they return to the Forest House years later. Beron was pleased with how Kuhn acted so warrior on the outside and actually rewarded Eris for his efforts.

Kuhn is like a mix of Jax and Hue at the same time. He enjoys training and is quite apt in his bow skills, but at the same time, he’s also fascinated by particular things– namely animals and the stars.

So… when Helion is giving out gifts, he gives Kuhn a little trinket that shows the view of the stars in the Night Court from the top of some mountains and makes sure to get an invitation for them both to the next Starfall in Velaris. (Kuhn was very happy)

Kuhn enjoys helping Eris with his hounds when he can, learning at least their names and offering advice when Eris off handedly mentions some issue, or that some hound got injured

When Eris is High Lord, Kuhn and Hue are some of the most useful when dealing with the lords and other annoying things.

Calix is the 6th born Vanserra, and according to canon, the last of Beron’s sons. One of the perished ones.

Beron did the same as he did with Kuhn and Hue– have Eris raise him. Calix didn’t seem scholarly at all though and was quite the violent child. But he was better than Fynn, and that was for sure. But they were similar, but Calix lacked the “loss of kindness” that Fynn had.

Calix was inherently violent, often killing frogs and other creatures just for fun and then throwing their bodies around for fun.

Eris did his best to “train” Calix, but the boy was unbothered and ignored him.

So, when it came time to go back to the Forest House, Calix was punished harshly, and with him, Eris. Calix didn’t understand, however, that it had been his fault that Eris was so cold toward him afterward.

Calix looks like almost an exact copy of Eris, so Beron had been hopeful, but quickly found that Eris was much more well trained and so Calix was resented, but not nearly as much as some of the other brothers.

Calix is the other brother that is killed by Tamlin. Beron basically taken the two sons most desperate to please him to chase Lucien to the Spring Court. Calix had been quite desperate, and Fynn, and Kuhn had simply been ordered to go along, as Beron considered him one of the more pleasing sons. Eris, since he refused to go along despite being ordered, was punished severely.

So, Calix and Fynn died, and Kuhn returned with gouges from huge claws in his back.

Hue was banned from helping either of the injured brothers and was barely even allowed to grieve his other two. (Hue had cared for them despite them mostly hating him for being more well-liked by their father)

Now, naturally, Lucien is the last brother we talk about. He was born before the Spring Court incident, and Beron was practically raging at the fact that Eris had failed at raising Calix as he did with Kuhn.

However, Eris managed to convince Beron to give him a chance with Lucien and his mother didn’t even wean Lucien off her milk, she just sent Eris to get him in a panic.

Eris found out why the panic soon after when Lucien was laughing with joy in a cradle in the cabin. The boy was glowing.

So yes, in my mind, Eris did know that Lucien was not Beron’s son, but treated him all the same.

Before Lucien could remember anything though, Eris found a spell to lock that Day Court magic inside the toddler before he burnt down the house with all the heat pouring off of him. After all, Day Court and Autumn Court abilities were similar in that way– heat. And Eris didn’t have a damn clue how to train Lucien to control his Day Court powers, so he locked them away and managed the fire instead.

Lucien was different from any other brother Eris had managed to raise. He was smart, could fight very well, but he was… different. Emotional and very quickly bonded with anything. Animals, most notably. When one of Eris’s hounds accidentally bit the boy in play, Lucien had acted so rejected.

Eris tried his best, and it paid off… mostly. They were ordered to return early from the canon and Lucien wasn’t vicious enough yet and Beron punished them both, finding the smallest excuse to do it to Eris.

Lucien resented Eris after that, and Eris never did try to mend that relationship, nor did he find the time when Lucien fell in love with a lesser fae female. However, he refused to hunt Lucien after he ran for the Spring Court. In the few minutes he had before Beron came after him, he made sure his littlest brother would be cared for and sent a letter to Tamlin.

Also, as an added note as to why Lucien believes Eris is so cruel: he thinks Eris was the one to report Jesminda to Beron- purely to make gain off of it (acceptance from Beron being the goal)

I’m not going to go too much farther into Lucien, as we know a lot about canon past that point and there are other times to talk about all my HCs for Lucien. This is about Eris and his brothers.

Now, if you notice, I’ve done all the Vanserras except the first born. Eris. Poor, tortured Eris.

In my mind, Eris is one of the most traumatized Vanserras, with Hue, Calix and Fynn coming close in second. He was the first to learn of Beron’s cruelty, the first to face it, and the one to face it the longest.

He messed up a lot too. Beron wanted cruel, wicked and manipulative. Eris was none of those things as a child. He was curious, loved cuddling with his momma and loved playing with the hunting hounds people brought around. He loved riding horses-

Basically, Eris wasn’t that way. But he quickly learned to be. Permanently changed by Fynn to be exactly who his father wanted because he was desperate to avoid the whip and the fire and the pain. However, he still managed to keep the pieces of his fractured heart, even if they were slipping between his fingers.

That is probably the only reason he was able to raise his brothers the way he did. Hue and Kuhn care for him deeply in that way, and he is the same way. But they never show it. However, the little fist bumps or secretive gifts were enough for Hue and Kuhn to know that Eris still cared even when he was forced to whip them by Beron’s command.

Oh yes… Eris wasn’t just the abused. He was also the abuser. Even if he didn’t want to be. But he always managed to show enough pleasure in the act to placate his father, because sometimes it was a good feeling. He felt in control, despite not being in control in the slightest.

But without Beron’s command, he always felt guilty for it and knew that in some way, his brothers did hold something against him for it. I mean, honestly, who wouldn’t though? Eris truly seemed like he enjoyed it. And he never came to check up on them afterwards. (He sometimes wanted to, but refused to risk his father’s rage again)

His brothers (especially Lucien because Beron knew he was different than the other pale red heads that were his sons and was punished more, and much more by Eris himself) think him cruel. Even if they saw a softer side when they grew up, he was still vicious with training. Sometimes heartless. And he can't help this because of how he grew up. He's sort of like Fynn in those ways.

Eris isn't completely kind though. Some (like his mother) like to paint him as damaged, but even while he is damaged, he is still not absent of cruelty. After all, Beron drilled it into him. The pleasure in whipping was surely evidence of such.

But he does truly hate Beron. He knows his father is a cruel male- crueler than he. Willing to kill lovers of his own sons and lords whenever. He hates Beron- for everything. For what he did to Eris, for what he did to the Autumn Court, for what he did to his mother, and what he did to his brothers. There are of course, many more reasons, but those are the main ones.

Even after becoming High Lord, he didn’t show much more emotion or care, but he did allow his brothers more freedom and they lived with less fear. It would take a millennia to repair the damage done to them all though.

So, to say the least, the Vanserra family is fucked up and there isn’t much repairs in sight. Even when Helion tries to get closer to them, it's hard. They are traumatized asf and often, lonely because lonely=safe in their mind because there is nobody to report them to their father.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

Btw, feel free to ask more questions about the headcanons <3

TAGLIST HERE! - see post for specifics <3

Tagged in all ACOTAR Stories: @bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @bubybubsters

(please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged in Eris Week or would like to!!)

#erisweek2023 #eris vanserra #eris acotar #vanserra brothers #lucien vanserrra #lucien #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #high lord eris #pro eris vanserra #headcanons #mywriting

103 notes · View notes

acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year

Text

Fireleaf (Part Fourteen)

Heyyyy! You guys, @greeneyedivy have discussed these upcoming parts and been so excited for so long!!!! Things are really taking off now 😏

Warnings: None for this part!

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

He was golden.

Buttery morning sunlight seeped through the cracks of the crumbling stone walls, the tiled roof. Every day seemed to weave a glowing path that reached out to the softly slumbering male on the floor, offsetting an ethereal gleam from his skin.

You…you couldn’t look away.

Hadn’t been able to since the first pinpricks of dappled daylight had begun to show.

Your eyes cracked open long before dawn broke. Your head pounded and your mouth was torturously dry, and yet…you were content. Content to just watch.

You wondered how few people got to witness Lucien in such an unguarded state. No frown furrowing his brow. No tightness in the sensuous curve of his lips. His hair lay about his face in fiery curls, and he…he was exquisite. It almost had you breathless.

You were still staring when his eyes fluttered open, the russet shade catching the light as they immediately landed on you. He studied you, quirking an eyebrow. You didn’t want to think about how awful you must look.

“G’morning.” He rasped, his voice thick from sleep. “How’s your head?”

You shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around you. “I’ve never received any complaints.”

He snorted, eyes rolling. “Are you capable of giving a serious response?”

You felt the way your expression sobered, memories of the day before pelting you. You were bruised and sore from Beron, of course — hadn’t quite mustered the bravery to move an inch yet — but it was Dion at the forefront of your mind. Dion that you’d disappointed with your…inability to give a serious response.

You cleared your throat, finally forcing yourself to shift — and flinched at the pain that splintered through you. Spreading through the small of your back like wildfire, you hated that you audibly gasped as you stood.

“What is it?” Lucien asked, sitting up quickly.

You schooled your features into blandness, turning on the spot and folding the blanket you’d slept beneath. With your back to him, you could at least allow yourself a grimace at the gnawing ache.

“Just slept awkwardly.” You eventually murmured. Even you knew you didn’t sound all that convincing.

There was a pause. And then Lucien was pushing to his feet, the floor creaking beneath him. “Why were you drunk last night?”

“Listening to your father talk for hours on end isn’t exactly exciting. I felt like having a drink after.”

“You drained most of the bottle. Alone. Seemed to me like you were drowning your sorrows.”

Gods, your head hurt too much for this. You turned, stepping forward and squinting at the sunlight that hit your face directly. “I just drank too much—”

“What the fuck is that?”

You barely had a chance to look up before Lucien was close enough to touch. Barely had a chance to think before his hand was cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing the skin there. You winced at the feeling — the tenderness of the area.

Your gaze met his — and his eyes were fierce, flaring as they seemed to study you intensely.

“Your cheek is bruised.” He said quietly.

Right — because Beron had slapped you. You’d somehow forgotten about that part of the assault. And it had been a hard slap; hard enough that even Fae healing would take a while to rid of the mark it left behind.

That would be annoying…covering it up. Waiting for it to disappear. Because you were far more shaken than you, perhaps, liked to admit. You didn’t want to think of Beron having the upper hand, but…

He’d stunned you. Made you realise that he was willing to make true on his threats. That perhaps it was time to start behaving yourself.

If not for your own sake, then…for Dion’s. Because he would no doubt bear the brunt of your decisions, also.

You pulled your face away from Lucien’s gentle hold. “It’s nothing. I tripped last night. Fell flat on my face.”

You turned away; didn’t want to look at him with the lie lingering in the air. And you could damn well feel that he didn’t believe you. There was a tinge of…of disappointment, maybe.

“I suppose the ground was wearing a ring, was it?”

You frowned. “What?”

“You have the damn imprint of a ring on your cheek, Y/N. Believe me, I’ve seen it before.”

Your body stiffened. So — clearly, Lucien knew exactly what he was looking at. And that, also, was inconvenient, but…well, he couldn’t force you to admit anything.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” you said. “I’m clumsy.”

“…we’re friends now, right?”

You swivelled back round to face him. Yes, you were, and you liked this tender, open side of him. You didn’t want it to change. Didn’t want him to think you didn’t trust him, but—

Telling the truth about Beron was more trouble than it was worth. Right now, at least. That day would come.

“We are friends.” You swore vehemently. “And I appreciate your kindness last night. But there’s nothing for you to worry about — I promise.”

“Y/N—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence. You reached out, wrapping your arms around him. Just a split second passed of Lucien stiffening — in surprise, you thought — before he relaxed into the hug. Slid his arms around you. Pressed your head to his chest.

And gods, it hurt when his hand slid over your back, yes. But it was also so, so comforting. To just be held. To be cared for.

You didn’t know how long you’d stood there like that when you eventually pulled away, smiling up at him. Lucien studied you, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re okay?” He asked quietly.

You dipped your chin. “I’m okay. I should…probably get out of here, though. Before everyone starts waking up.”

Russet eyes scanned your face for a moment. Searching. Wondering. And then he nodded.

You squeezed his hand as you brushed past him, trying not to give in to the urge to limp. You knew he watched your every move.

“Y/N?” He said, just as you reached the door. You turned. “I’m glad we’re friends. I mean—I’m here for you. For anything.”

You studied him, your hand lingering on the door handle. And it would be so tempting to march over there and kiss him, like you wanted to. So tempting to give yourself to him.

But it would also be unfair. On him. On Dion. Maybe on yourself.

You were friends. No more. You couldn’t be more.

You needed to start doing right by Dion.

So you plastered on a soft smile and said, “I’m glad we’re friends, too.” You paused. “Loosh.”

And then you turned your back on those temptations, slipping out the door and into the early golden light.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Dion was quiet at your side. But the fact that he’d agreed to come along with you, on this trip outside the estate, was a positive, at least.

In a place of perpetual autumn, warm days were a rare commodity — but this was one of them. Perhaps the sunlight was a harbinger of necessary change, beckoning in the revelations that had struck you. That it was time to start doing better, being better. Time to be the Y/N you’d been sent here to be.

So you’d dressed as the pretty, adoring fiancée that passers-by would expect to see; and not just to cover the bruise on your cheek. You’d filled a basket with fruits and juices — and some of Eris’s chocolate — and tracked down Dion. Asked for his time to talk. Which was what had led you to this point — strolling along a riverbank in terse silence.

“Wanna sit here?” You gestured to an area of grass that was bathed in the sun, overlooking the gentle flow of the river. A peaceful place to have a vital conversation.

“Sure.” Dion nodded, placing the basket down. He’d insisted on carrying it, even if he wasn’t your biggest fan right now — because he was kind. Good. And that was why you needed to do the right thing.

He spread a blanket across the grass and stepped back, allowing you to sit first. You eased yourself down, smoothing your dress around you. You tried to look natural, but…you were nervous. Nervous to bear your soul, no matter how necessary it was.

“Thank you for this.” Dion sat, placing the basket between you. “It was a nice idea.”

You offered him a coy smile. “I wanted us to be able to talk properly.”

“About?”

You chewed your lip, digging into the basket and pulling out the items you’d packed as you thought what, exactly, to say. You weren’t good with words, weren’t good with speaking – unless it was all quick wit and bravado. You weren’t used to just…talking straight. There was only one person you’d ever felt comfortable enough to do that with – without being judged – and you didn’t know if you’d ever see him again.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, handing him a bottle of fruit juice. “First of all, I wanted to apologise – for yesterday.”

He pulled the cork from the bottle, seeming to mull over your words as he took a swig. “I need you to know, Y/N, I wasn’t angry because I disagreed with what you said. On the contrary, I thought your idea to use smaller businesses for the wedding was a brilliant one.”

You did know that. It wasn’t your ideas that were the problem, just…you. How you went about them. You nodded. “I understand that.”

“No…with the greatest of respect, I don’t think you do. You may think you know what my father is like, but…what you’ve seen of him is nothing. And baiting him the way that you do…it can only end one way. Nobody wins against my father. Nobody. And I was angry that you would knowingly put yourself – and me – in the firing line like that.”

If what you’d seen of him was truly nothing, then…gods, you didn’t want to see any more. And you felt a heavy cloak of shame settle over you. It wasn’t just you that you were putting at risk, but Dion, too. The way Beron saw the world, saw females…Dion would be expected to keep you in line. And you making that difficult for him would only result in trouble for both of you.

“I didn’t think it through.” You admitted. “I—I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, Dion.”

“I know you are.” As he nodded, he reached into the basket, pulling out a pot of strawberries. He took one for himself, handed another to you. “And I’m not angry with you. I was just…worried.”

You nodded. Didn’t think you could quite manage a reply without choking over the lump that had risen in your throat. You nibbled at the strawberry, using it as a perfect excuse to compose yourself.

“Just because I love WIllow, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, you know?” Dion continued. “We’re in this situation together, you and I. And I’m sorry if I’ve lost sight of that and neglected you a bit. I think we could both do better. Both make it easier for one another.”

Yes, indeed, you could. Maybe you secretly had felt a bit neglected. Maybe feeling the bite and pinch of ire, of confrontation, had been better than the ache of loneliness. But maybe you also needed to wise the fuck up and face such feelings head-on, deal with them, instead of smothering them with others.

You bit into the strawberry, staring forward. Brooding. Knowing what you wanted, needed to say, but not knowing how— “I don’t know why I’m like this.” You blurted.

Dion’s face turned to you, pinched in a frown. “Like what?”

“Like me. The way that I am. That I’ve always been. I don’t know…why.”

The wall of silence that met you was humiliating. You couldn’t bear to face him, keeping your eyes ferociously on the languid rolling of the river. Dion was probably wondering why, too—

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

“You think it’s a coincidence that I’m the only one of my parents’ daughters who isn’t married? Who’s never found anybody? It doesn’t just have to do with choice and freedom, Dion. Because even if it were my choice to settle down and be with someone…I’ve hardly got a long line of suitors waiting for a chance, have I? And it’s my doing. The way I am. Nobody wants a brash, confrontational, mouthy female.”

And there it was — the ugly, embarrassing truth. You could feel Dion blinking at you like the impassioned speech wasn’t at all what he expected. Probably wasn’t, in fact. But these things had been in your mind for years.

It had been easy to run away from them when you’d had Linden. He kept you occupied, made you feel…worthy. Appreciated. Loved. And being torn away from that dredged up what lay beneath all of the good.

Slowly, you shook your head. “I don’t know. I always used to think that I had a lot of freedom. That I was fortunate to do what I wanted, when I wanted. But I think I’ve always been a bit trapped. And I don’t allow myself to love and trust very easily because I’m scared of those things being destroyed forever.” You stopped, sucking in a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is—I’ve been shit. And I don’t want to be shit. I want to try harder and do better.”

Dion studied you for a while. Seemed to consider your words. And then his head tilted. “And what does that look like? Doing better?”

“It looks like us playing the doting couple on the outside…so that we can be true to ourselves on the inside. Which means no pushing back anymore. That way, we’ll get married, and we’ll move away from here, and we won’t have all these eyes and ears on us. The world will be ours. You’ll be able to have Willow, even if it’s behind closed doors.”

His eyes softened, and he reached out a hand to place over yours. “And you’ll have someone, too.”

You highly doubted it, but — that was something and nothing. A thought you’d had and tossed aside a million times before. It didn’t hurt to think it. It just…was what it was.

“Let’s make a pact,” you said, “to try harder from now on. To be the best fake couple there ever was and repulse everyone with how sickeningly in love we most definitely are not. Agreed?”

Dion snorted, a grin pulling at his lips. And you were just…so relieved to see it again. So relieved that he wasn’t mad at you. You hadn’t truly appreciated how much his friendship with you meant until now.

“Agreed.” He squeezed your hand. “The best fake couple there ever was.”

Which meant no more baiting Beron.

No more being contrary and difficult.

No more doing things you weren’t supposed to be doing.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Time, as always, peddled on at an alarming pace.

In a blink of an eye, three months had passed. Three months of trying harder, doing better. And you couldn’t deny that it had paid off — you’d had no more run-ins with Beron. Life had become…quiet, aside from the general bustle of the estate and the wedding plans that were ratcheting up. You and Dion played your parts, and played them damn well. To anyone who peered vaguely in your direction, you were the doting couple, excited to begin your lives together.

It certainly made things easier, not having to worry about what trouble might wait around the corner. As did your friendship with Lucien, which had grown and blossomed into something you truly valued. It was strange to think you once hadn’t gotten along, given the rapport you now had with each other.

Perhaps as strange as the fact that, despite your history, he hadn’t sought out the physical release you’d once given one another.

It was as though that conversation you’d had with Dion on the riverbank had truly set the wheels of change in motion. From that day forward, sex with Lucien became a thing of the past — and he hadn’t questioned it once. Hadn’t spoken to you and asked what had changed. Hadn’t tried to instigate it.

It was almost as if those fleeting moments of passion between you had never occurred. As though your relationship had always been purely platonic. Maybe he just…didn’t want you like that anymore. Maybe he’d gotten you out of his system.

And that was okay. That fit perfectly with the way things needed to be. The way things strictly were for the following three months. It felt nice, anyway, that he seemed to enjoy more than just your body. That he craved your mind and conversation.

Summer — or the closest thing the Autumn Court had to summer — had well and truly swept in. The days were long and beautiful, cloaked in a balmy warmth that was neither too hot or too cool. And for the most part, those days had kept you busy. If you weren’t joining Dion on his errands and meeting important people, or holed up with the Lady of Autumn and fine-tuning wedding details, you could most likely be found down at the lake that was just a few miles on foot from the estate.

Many a blissful day had been spent there, hours running away with you. Sometimes you were alone, reading in the warmth of the sun. Other times, it was a chance for you and Dion to relax a bit and let go of your facades, if just for a few hours. On a few occasions, you’d been joined by all of the Vanserra brothers; each of whom had also seemed to slip off their strict masks in favour of days of swimming and sunbathing and just having fun. You certainly saw different sides to them; fun, boyish sides that they so rarely got to show, as they jumped from tree branches into the lake and engaged in play fights and just…enjoyed themselves, without worry of who might be watching.

And then there were the days like today — days where only Lucien joined you, and you happily savoured each other’s company. You never spoke of what had once existed between you; it was as though such things had been a mere figment of your imagination. And maybe…maybe it was better that way.

He currently sat mere inches from you, fingers idly strumming a lute as the sun kissed both of you. You watched in fascination at the ease with which he played the instrument — so beautiful and lilting. You thought you could sit there and listen to it forever.

“I’ve always wanted to play an instrument.” You told him, your eyes closely tracking his fingers. “My sisters and I were put through piano lessons once, but…I was awful. The teacher actually gave up on me.”

Lucien snorted, a soft grin tugging his lips. “I would’ve paid to witness that.”

“Hmm, I’m sure.”

His grin widened, and the music altered as he lifted his fingers from the strings and held them out to you. “Here, give me your hand.”

You paused for a moment — just a split, fleeting moment. And then placed your hand in his. His touch was warm, grounding.

“Press your fingers here, like this.” He murmured, positioning them on the fret. His eyes flicked up to yours, a smirk playing on his mouth. “Your hands are ridiculously small.”

You rolled your eyes. “Perhaps yours are monstrously large.”

“Perhaps.”

The two of you shared a grin, and then he was letting go of your fingers. He strummed the strings once, filling the area with a melodic caress of music. You watched, close, your fingers still where he’d positioned them.

“Look at that.” He said teasingly. “You’re playing an instrument — somewhat.”

“If only my piano teacher could see me now.”

Your sarcastic tone wrangled a deep laugh from the walls of Lucien’s chest, and the sound was excellent, as breathtaking as the notes he so flawlessly strummed. You couldn’t help smiling as you retracted your hand, placing it back in your lap.

“…So…” you broached after a moment. “Are you bringing anyone to the dance?”

This past week, preparations for the estate’s upcoming dance had taken precedence above all else — some celebration of an anniversary you didn’t care to remember. The event wasn’t as big and formal as others…just a night for Beron to show off his wealth and power to his courtiers. But still, you would all be dressing up. Drinking. Dancing.

“No,” Lucien answered with a soft laugh. “I don’t usually bother to attend.”

“I thought you liked to dance.”

“Oh, I do. But the summer months are the time to relax before the weather changes again, and we’re once more at that time of year of back-to-back dances and feasts and posturing. You know what I realised the other day? In only three months' time, it’ll have been a year since Tamlin’s masquerade.”

The stark realisation wasn’t lost on you. Time was a fast worker, and you weren’t far off having spent a year at the estate already. Weren’t far off the Harvest Festival happening once again. It was strange to think about how much had occurred and changed in that time.

“That was a good night.” You said. “I actually had fun. I think everyone did.”

Lucien dipped his chin. “Yep. But this upcoming dance will be nothing like that, So…I’ll be staying well out of the way until it’s over. Locked up in my little outbuilding.”

You smiled down at your hands. Gods, you wished that you could do that. You’d much prefer hiding away with Lucien for the evening over showing off yours and Dion’s perfect facade to busybody gossips. Even if you had perfected it down to the very last detail.

But you’d do what was expected of you. Because that was who you were now.

“I’m sure there’ll be many females disappointed with missing out on a dance with you.” You commented. Didn’t really know why you said it. “And it’s going to be way more boring without the Spring Court music.”

Lucien’s lips twitched, his fingers beginning to strum at the lute once more. “Too bad you’ll just have to put up with Dion’s uncoordinated feet. I’m sure that won’t be fun.”

You knew he was trying to make you laugh, but…the fond, jesting comment went straight over your head. Rather, your attention immediately snagged on something else. Something beautiful.

The song he’d begun to lazily play with no real effort was immediately recognisable to you. One that took you right back to the night of the masquerade, the climbing notes and the euphoric feeling of spinning and feeling so light on your feet, you thought you may never stop dancing. And here was Lucien, bringing it to life once more, filling the clearing of trees with its sweet melody like he’d just known.

“That was the song Dion and I danced to that night.” You murmured, watching the movement of his fingers in somewhat of a trance. “It was my favourite song of the whole evening. I’ve danced to it with Linden before, also.”

And you remembered every element of the music so clearly, you immediately noticed as Lucien missed a note. His eyes flicked up from the strings to meet yours. “...You danced to this song with Dion?”

You nodded, still intently watching the plucking of the strings. “Mhm. It’s so beautiful.”

He made no reply, seeming to pour his focus into getting the music back on track, righting that split second in which he’d missed a note. The song picked up its pace again, and you were transported, utterly transfixed. You kept your eyes on him right to the very last note, when the music began to fade, and you realised its pure beauty may just have pricked your eyes. Lucien noticed, too.

“Here.” He said, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I’ll show you how to play it.”

And so you scooted closer, the lump of emotion still in your throat as you allowed him to position your fingers, his body so close to yours and yet never quite touching. Because you were friends.

Friends.

The way it was. The way it needed to be.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

all acotar tags: all acotar tags: @moonfawnx @writingsbychlo @moonlitcelestial @orangecreamsicle54 @saturnspoet0711 @andahugaroundtheneck @nightscourtt @mysticalcheesecakemiracle @luckypersonmentality @nobody00sthings @kristalhi @tencrushesperday @janzquu @we-were-beautiful @thewarriormoon @cirwin2013 @mrs-azriel @the-kwami-of-fandom-frustration @libraryofathousandstars @daily-dose-of-sass @pixiestix13 @basicbittywitty @simplefan-638 @highlady-ofillyria @false-desire-182 @fictionalcharacterlereasigim @theofficialmadman @kemillfreitas @sledgehammer21-1 @shannonsaid @jtargs @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @new-adventures-everyday @positivewitch @crushedcloudsx @cartoonnerdgirl @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ssmay123 @linduzmunna @ruler-of-hades @kennedy-brooke @peachyandmoon @ariaaira @topaz125 @blitz-fall @azrielsbbg @gracedarr @swagfreakathletemonger @sfhsgrad-blog @lo0oserlex @ruleroftides @mayabennett03 @vera0124 @mich0731 @balam-sen @luciensbxtch @holywolfsstuff @chloesgoneposts @margssstuff

285 notes · View notes

theladyofbloodshed · 8 months

Note

I was just thinking… if Rhysand’s stupid ass didn’t lock Cassian and Azriel in Velaris for 49 years, it would have taken them like a couple of weeks to round up the Illyrians (largest army in Prythian, I think). Coordinate with Tamlin and the Spring Court and Amarantha’s reign would have lasted no longer than a few months, lmao. Azriel can literally slip into shadow - we’re supposed to believe he can’t sneak up on Amarantha during the chaos of a full scale attack?

When you think about it, Rhysand absolutely fucked up the whole of Prythian for almost 50 years… the least he could have done is stay dead at the end of ACOWAR.

It’s because Rhys was supposed to be the actual bad guy so the existence of Velaris and its people happened after the first book was created so that’s why so many retcons happened.

He manages to shield the city and lock them all in

It is stated later that Illyrians served amarantha so Rhys has them hunted down - even though they were following *his* lead as high lord

He somehow manages to erase Mor’s existence from Eris and Beron’s memories and presumably the hewn city, including her parents, as they weren’t shielded

He erases Cassian and Azriel from the memory of every single Illyrian AND tamlin - because in acomaf when Feyre first returns from Velaris, tamlin shows that he knows who they are

He erases Amren from everybody’s memory because Lucien states in a later book that she’s a story told to scare children - so presumably everybody in prythian has heard of her

It is absolutely ridiculous that the retcon is that Rhys only had a single drop of power and he was able to do all of that for fifty years PLUS use his powers for amarantha

It means later on, when he’s back to full strength, his power isn’t even that much more powerful than this single drop. And if he gave Feyre a single drop of his power than she should also have this ridiculous unfathomable level of power 🤷🏻‍♀️

#anon asks

72 notes · View notes

acourtofmenandthirst · 1 year

Text

A New Male (Part II of II)

Rhysand's Sister!Reader x Eris

Holy fuck I am so sorry this took me so long! I should have made it three parts instead but I just wanted to finish it for you guys! I hope yall wanted soft Eris, because this is so mushy but I also love it

Again, timeline and character development not really canon, so just go with the flow! Here is Part I

Warnings: Mentions of character death, swearing, smut, Eris cares too much about fashion theory

Word Count: 13.5K

You unsurprisingly found yourself ending up in the Autumn Court again, dew clinging to the hem of your skirts and fog winding around your wrists. You’d followed the sunset from the gloomy Court of Nightmares, chasing the golden skies and beams of light kissing the clouds, a sight so often shielded with storm clouds in your home territory.

Wings tucked in tight behind you, you stepped over logs and maneuvered around muddy leaves, looking around, searching for a certain fireborne male. With your hair pinned nearly behind your head, only a few tendrils now slinging around your pointed ears, you craned your neck from side to side, eager to cover as much ground as you could, desperate to find your new friend.

Those amber eyes found you first, though, from his spot perched on a thick tree branch spread high above you. He’d winnowed as soon as he noticed you in the court, wandering through the dense forest. He was quick to scent you, the faint oenothera and cool brisk night, even from his position just outside the Forest House. As his ears picked up on the sentries discussing the sudden intrusion, he quickly ordered them to stand down, ensuring he would investigate the trespasser.

Don’t tell Beron.

Eris could not stress it enough.

He’d winnowed his way through the woods, finding new hiding places until he decided he was finally close enough to you, perched up atop the highest tree branch, watching as you searched for him. It made his heart flutter, unable to stop the small smile that pulled at his lips.

It didn’t hurt that you had donned your dress with the tightest bodice, corset pulled so tight that your chest was pressed against the fabric, pressing up toward your collarbones with every breath you took.

And maybe you had done it on purpose.

He winnowed down a few feet in front of you, tall, lean body hidden by the fog. He was quick to step out, though, perfectly in your path, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath hitched in your throat, head stuck on a swivel, as you straightened your back, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

“Welcome back,” he mused, arms crossed over his chest, smirking hanging on his lips.

Couldn’t stay away, you wished to say. “Happy to see my welcoming committee, once again,” you replied nonchalantly, dropping your shoulders in a shrug.

Eris smiled, stepping closer to you. “I was beginning to wonder when I’d see you back in my Court.”

You returned the smile, praying to the Mother to hide the blush on your cheeks - or at least have him chalk it up to the cold evening air. It’s not like you’d counted how many days had passed since you’d last been to Autumn.

But you were waiting for the exact moment when you could slip away and race back to the red haired male.

Rhysand and your father had been called to the Illyrian camps unexpectedly. You’d been left with his larger friend in charge, the big brute that couldn’t go two hours without eating. You were able to coerce him into a dinner with your finest maids, the most beautiful ones you could find - them, and about twelve bottles of your father’s Faewine.

You slipped out of your room not a moment too soon, and were able to catch the sunset on your flight to the Autumn Court.

“Miss me that much?” Your voice was as smooth as that gods damned Night Court silk he despised so much. While he decided you didn’t look bad in it, actually quite pleased with how you looked barely wrapped in the dark material, he would much prefer to see you in something corduroy.

Eris couldn’t suppress the chuckle that left his chest, a low rumble, yet such a boyish laugh. “Who else would I be able to share my family woes with?” He quirked an eyebrow in your direction.

You nodded, suddenly remembering the weight your own family had been putting on your shoulders lately - and how much of a risk it truly was to see Eris. You bit your lip, looking around at the forest floor. Colorful leaves scattered the damp earth, clumps of mud and dirt caked at the bottom of the dying shrubbery. “No fire or knife throwing?” You asked, desperate to talk about anything other than your family - or his.

Understanding of your conversational change, Eris strode to one of the fallen tree trunks, sitting on the dark bark. His legs spread slightly, dark pants stretched out, matching the dark blue suit jacket he wore. “Not tonight,” he replied, looking up at the sky. “Just out admiring the sunset.” A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

You nodded, strolling over to take a seat beside him. You held your wings up high, tightly pressed to your back, keeping them out of the mud and out of Eris’s way. “That’s what I was going to say,” you replied, with a small smile pulling at your lips. A white lie shared between friends, then.

Without another word, Eris leaned backward, drinking you all in: the way your dress hugged your curves, accentuated your chest, nearly glowing under the setting sun. Your hair curled perfectly over your ears, exposing your long neck and shoulders. Your dark wings flexed behind you, held high by your immaculate posture, fit for a queen on her throne.

It was a sight Eris wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon.

Much to your dismay, as soon as you opened your mouth to make a snarky comment about the young heir apparent, your stomach growled, interrupting the near expired silence. You felt your cheeks burn, hand clenched to your stomach as you tried to laugh it off.

Eris laughed, too, a genuine one, showing how caught off guard he really was. “You okay there, little bat?”

You were simply on fire at that point.

You huffed a laugh, forcing yourself to ignore his commentary - unable to decide if you liked the sound of it or not. “I skipped dinner,” you replied. Skipped dinner to escape Cassian in the Court of Nightmares, to find you. “And then the flight over here…” You had to travel across nearly all of Prythian to get there - not a small feat, especially not in the dress you wore, and not on an empty stomach.

Eris rolled his eyes. “Nothing here worth skipping meals for.”

“You’ve eaten the Nightmare gruel before, no?”

Eris barked out a laugh, smiling broadly, eyes squinting at the corners. “As much as I’d love to remember the grey cuisine last time I was visiting,” he began, dropping a hand to your knee, over your thick skirts. “I’d much rather not.” With a glint in his bright shining eyes, his wide palm squeezed your leg. “Stay here.”

Before you could even question it, the male was gone, vanishing into nothing but thin air. You cursed yourself, cursed your father for not passing down the strong powers he gave to Rhysand to you as well. You could barely summon darkness as your brother did, much less winnow. You didn’t have the abilities to hide your wings like Rhys - whether he actively hid them or had to summon them through magic - you weren’t sure anybody really knew.

If not for the fading orange sun, you wouldn’t be afraid. The sun set quickly here in Autumn, and you weren't sure how long you would be sitting there without Eris.

Eris, on the other hand, scavenged through the Forest House kitchen. He would run himself ragged to find you something - opening cabinets and oven doors, searching for the perfect treat for you. He knew he couldn’t be gone long - he wasn’t sure how long you’d actually wind up waiting for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the apple crumble cooling on the windowsill. It was perfect.

He lunged towards the window, stopping only to fix his jacket and run a hand through his messy hair, before he grabbed the dish and a spoon and winnowed back to you.

Eris sat back on the large tree trunk, holding the warm dish between the two of you.

Your eyes grew wide as you observed the dessert, chunks of apple drizzled with caramel and brown seasoning. The crumble on top was still steaming slowly, chunks of dough and oats and something that smelled so sweet. He held it out to you, which you graciously took.

“This isn’t going to be one of those old wivestales is it? The one they tell the children to scare them out of running away?” Your head tilted to the side, holding the delicate white baking dish in both hands. The sweet smell of sugar entrapped you. “Where if they eat the food from the mysterious land, they’ll be stuck there forever?”

Eris’s eyes washed over the smirk that played at your lips. His voice dropped an octave: “Would that be so bad?”

You shook your head quickly, wings shaking slightly behind you. Eris held the spoon out to you, watching you take it and scoop a hearty spoonful of the apple crumble, quickly taking it into your mouth.

You could have moaned - never having tasted such a sweet treat. Solstice dessert came close, but no Night Court dish would have such depth, the tart apple with the big chunks of sugar and allspice flakes. You had heard legends about the infamous Autumn caramel, the viscous golden sugar that could be traded for bags of coins in the other courts.

As you took a scoop of the chunky topping, you couldn’t help but notice how those red eyes watched you, a predator watching his prey, eating the sweet treat, only sweetening you up for his own tasting later.

Gods, and you wished he would.

He knew you noticed him staring. He had nowhere else to look, really. No other sight would have his blood pumping like that: watching you lick the sticky sauce off your lips.

He would forego a hundred years just to see that tongue of yours run across your lips. To watch as your eyes fluttered closed, nearly moaning at the taste.

Your attention was all on him as you lifted the spoon to your lips. Caught in a trance, though, those fiery red eyes demanding all of your attention, a chunk of topping fell from your spoon, landing directly on your chest. Your eyes flitted downwards, you hadn’t expected nearly such a grand display on your end, the wide expanse of your pushed-up chest now the perfect plate for such a delicious treat.

Eris would agree - you were utterly appetizing.

His eyes flicked back and forth, between your eyes, your lips, your chest. His fists were clenched at his sides and he forced himself to breathe calmly. Not one to besmirch a female’s reputation, he held himself back - stopped himself from reaching over and having a taste straight from the source.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, unable to raise his grating voice from the low tenner. “The amount of restraint I have around you.”

You huffed out a low breath, smirking at the poor male in front of you. You swiftly placed the dish down on the ground beside you, not taking your eyes off Eris as you simply plucked the chunk of dough up, holding it up in front of you. You tossed him a sultry smile as you held your hand out to him, but as soon as those lips parted, eyes burning with desire, you pulled back and placed the sugary chunk on your own waiting tongue.

His jaw fell ever so slightly, watching as you reached back out for him, a droplet of caramel - one matching the smudge on your breast - lingering off your finger. You dragged your thumb across his bottom lip, earning a blink and a sigh from the male, as his tongue met your finger ever so gently. You brought your hand back to yourself, licking the remnants of the sauce from your thumb once again, as if tasting Eris instead.

“What are you holding yourself back for?” You breathed, eyes wandering from his blazing red ones to his pink lips, looking so soft, still parted ever so slightly. “I know it’s not for my benefit.”

Eris willed his mouth shut, forcing a breath down his throat. “(Y/N).” Your name was a prayer, a plea, begging for salvation. “If you allow me to touch you, I am not sure if I will ever be able to stop.”

Your heart lurched to your throat, stomach twisting in anticipation as you failed to come up with a response - nothing but his name on your lips as his hand reached upwards, tracing up the outside of your bare arm, eventually stopping at the back of your neck.

Your eyes nearly fluttered at the contact, his warm palm against your cold skin. His fingers stretched the expanse of the back of your neck, from the top of your shoulder to between your shoulder blades. As he leaned forward, your head tilted back, mouth falling open with the softest sigh as his nose brushed against your cheek. He pressed forward, lips tracing the shell of your ear, but not offering you a kiss. You were drawn to him, to his heat, his smell, his touch.

Eris watched you with hooded eyes, as your head fell back completely, offering him nothing but the open expanse of your chest and neck. You felt his breath tickle the corner of your jaw before he pulled away, dropping before you. His nose nuzzled against the freezing skin of your collarbone, lips pressed against your breast, straining against the top of your corset, begging to be set free.

You released a shaky breath, one Eris vowed to never forget, as he kissed his way up your chest, across your cleavage, tongue flitting out to taste the rest of the sugar granules that lingered across your creamy skin. You arched upwards, pressing yourself further into him as your hand fell to the back of his head. Your fingers wound through those red locks, needing to cling to something - anything - to ground yourself.

He followed your lead as you tugged him upwards gently. Eris, ever the minx, though, smirked as he continued his ministrations up your body, offering you small kisses as he worked his way up the column of your throat, nipping at your sensitive skin once he reached the corner of your jaw. You lurched with a soft gasp, hand winding farther around his head, holding him in place.

“Eris,” you mewled, unable to open your eyes, to pull yourself away from relishing in the feeling of the male buried in the crook of your neck. “Please, Eris.”

Music to his ears.

His other hand moved from the death grip he held on your hip, up to cradle the free side of your face. He tilted your head forward, until you eventually opened your eyes to meet his, burning with desire. His cheeks were painted pink, red eyes hungry with desire. “Say please again, (Y/N),” he murmured, pulling himself from the warmth he spread across your torso, looking you straight on.

You licked your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry, radiating with anticipation. “Eris - ” you didn’t miss how his chest huffed at the sound of his name, how he suppressed the groan that threatened to claw its way from his throat. “Please.”

His lips captured yours, so gently you weren’t sure if you would have to beg for him to really kiss you. With a sigh of contentment, like he had been waiting just as long as you had - as if delaying it wasn’t his own doing - his lips moved against yours. You leaned into him, deathgrip on his loose curls, pulling him ever so much closer to you.

Before Eris could drag his tongue across that bottom lip of yours, the one you’d been biting all evening, his ears perked up, catching the faint howl of his dogs far on the outskirts of the forest. He sat straight, hands not dropping your head, focusing on the leering sentries. His eyes fell to yours; while his were riddled with alarm, you looked as though you’d seen a ghost, so petrified of what the High Lord of the Autumn Court would do if he found you in his court… whether he was friends with your father or not, you were trespassing.

“You have to go,” Eris breathed, still afraid to let you go.

“I can’t keep coming back,” you replied, hand settling on his own, the one that still cupped your cheek.

He nodded, disagreement the farthest thing from his mind. “Then I’ll come to you.”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. The Court of Nightmares would notice the moment he crossed their borders, an Autumn male entering their territory without an invitation from the High Lord. He wouldn’t be safe in Velaris, either, not in the sleepy mountain town where he’d stick out like a sore thumb. No way he’d make it close enough without your father or brother noticing.

“You have to go,” he whispered, thumb tracing your cheekbone. “I’ll find you.”

The dogs grew louder, the sound of the males shouting far in the distance encroaching closer and closer. Without so much as another look - another kiss - Eris pulled you up by your hips, hoisting you to your feet and turning you away from him.

You took a few wobbly steps before stretching out your wings, taking off into the dead of night.

________________________________

You’d made it back that evening before Cassian even noticed you were missing, still drinking with the young fawns obsessing over his every move. You shouldn’t have been surprised to hear him take a handful of them to bed later.

The sounds alone echoed against the stone walls of your fathers estate, built into the side of the tall mountain. You laid awake in bed, half tucked under the covers, a plush pillow pressed over your head, trying to drown out the sound of the beastly male and the females crying out in pleasure. The jealous part of you wished that were you and Eris, perhaps hidden away deep in the Autumn woods, the males pointed nose buried in your neck again, or those soft lips between your legs.

You’d pay an insurmountable amount of coins to hear that breathy moan fall from his lips, the low grumble from his chest as he licked his way across you breast. The thought alone had you pressing your legs together.

You longed for his hands to roam the expanse of your body, that damned silk dress you’d worn just for his attention. Discarded in a pile of silk on your floor. Leave it to the Autumn sentries to interrupt you - though, you had heard rumors it was the most heavily guarded court, soldiers who would die to protect Autumn’s secrets and surely would kill anyone unexpected on their land. But the bloodhounds scared you more, no matter how many creatures you’d encountered in your own home court. Their well trained noses would track any being in their lands - no matter how small - razor sharp teeth that could tear them to shreds within the blink of an eye.

You rolled over, kicking the thick blankets off of you, throwing a coat over your shoulders before running through the drawing room and launching yourself off the balcony.

Your wings caught you, splayed out wide behind you, coasting along the quick breeze. You soared over the Sidra, watching the moonlight coast over the rippling waves, the midnight black water shining white in reflection. The trees whirled past, the sweet smell of pine and thick fog had nothing on what you’d seen in Autumn, the lingering smell of pumpkin and cinnamon still swirling in your nose.

You banked back toward the mountain, gliding close to the cold rocks before spotting the small cave you so often found yourself at. You landed on your feet, on the stone that offered nothing more than a couple feet of space, before plopping yourself on the edge, legs dangling off the cliff.

You adjusted the cloak over your shoulders, pulling it over your bare arms, those that Eris had been dragging his own fingers along not long ago, tracing a line of fire up your skin. You pulled the nightgown over your legs, thick socks s covering you near bare feet. The cool night but at you, but it was welcome, much needed to help you clear your head.

No matter how hard you tried to shake off the thought of Eris, the feeling of his touch, the all too short time he spent with his lips against yours, his memory lingered - as did his touch, his warmth, his smell.

Your wings prickled, goosebumps washing over your skin as you felt another approaching; Illyrian wings appearing far in the distance. You squinted, watching Rhys follow your own path, soaring high before dropping down on the edge of your little cliff. The one you two had been sneaking off to since you were young. When Rhys would take you flying, he often took you here, a nice resting spot while you were still too young and unable to fly for so long.

You’d pushed him off the edge numerous times, giggling as he caught himself in the air, his boisterous laugh bouncing off the sides of the mountain, echoing in the valley below.

“Figured I’d find you here,” he started, taking a seat beside you. His Illyrian leathers were matte under the stark moonlight. Clothes he so rarely wore recently. Not since his time in training, since your mother had been with him at the camp.

“Your friend is quite loud,” you replied flatly, staring down at the rocks below.

Rhys grumbled. “I’ll have to talk to him about that.” You hoped he wasn’t peering into Cassian’s mind, catching him at such an intimate moment.

“You’re back sooner than expected… is father at home?”

Rhys nodded. “We left Azriel in charge of the Illyrians, you know father couldn’t stand being there any longer than he had to.”

You frowned, unfortunately unable to forget your fathers cruel behavior at the war camps. How he’d demand public punishment, chaining the males up for their lashings, demanding the other soldiers to watch in warning.

Something your poor mother would have had to watch, had she not been taken from her family to marry the High Lord.

“You smell like…” Rhys trailed off, dipping his head closer to your hair. “Burning? What is that?” His brows furrowed, washing over your face in worry, looking for any singed skin, any signs of injury.

But it was Eris, you smelled like him, just from your brief moment together; like bonfire, burning embers, like that sweet caramel. You shook your head at your brother, brushing it off. “I was attempting something in the kitchen… didn’t quite pan out.” You shrugged at him, hoping it was enough to buy it.

Either Rhys was not as well trained in sensing smells as he thought, or he simply hadn’t spent enough time with the Autumn heir to pinpoint his scent. Either way, you were grateful.

“Father wants to have another ball in the Court of Nightmares,” Rhys said, thankfully changing the subject. “Something to celebrate the birth of Keir’s daughter.” He pressed his lips together, exhaling harshly through his nose.

“You think Keir is putting him up to it?” You asked, knowing your uncle all too well, ready to draw all the attention to himself, a mask celebrating his new daughter, the blonde babe only a few weeks old.

Rhys held back whatever he was to say. Whatever he was going to say about his father’s plans for her - but Rhysand swallowed down the thought. “Probably,” he sighed.

Your eyes washed across the grey rock, small stones dropping off the cliff edge with each gust of wind. Nobody liked the Court of Nightmares, it was ruled in a constant state of terror, it’s own citizens miserable. You weren’t sure if it was your father or his brothers fault, but neither seemed in a hurry to improve living conditions there. Though the parties were often glamorous, the various courts were too often displeased to travel to the gloomy underworld.

But at least you’d get to see Eris sooner than either of you hoped.

________________________________

The red dress you chose was a bit more suited to the Nightmare style, much more fitted and tighter than your usual skirts. Your mother was never a fan of the less is more style of the gloomy court.

Your father, on the other hand, didn’t understand why you needed to have that silk dyed into a burgundy, the same dark red that matched Eris’s hair. The exact color you knew would drive the territorial male wild.

The maids had done your hair up much like that last time you saw him, but you opted for the high neckline that drew the eye up the long expanse of your throat. The rest of the dress was tight, pulled taught against your bodice and hips, a long slit showing off only one of your toned legs - gods bless the Illyrian gene.

Eris thought the exact same thing when he saw you. Taller than most of the pure Night Court females, and no doubt more intimidating with your wings arched high at your back, he watched you move gracefully across the dance floor, greeting friends and flirting with random males.

You felt Eris’s gaze burning into you, after all, he stood nearly a whole head over the Spring Court male he was pretending to converse with. The Vanserras had dispersed throughout the room, red hair scattered, most flocking to the Night and Day Court females, both of which wore next to nothing.

Cassian appeared at your side, earning a sigh from you, as he attempted to stare down the Autumn male. “What’s with the stick up his ass,” he grumbled, stepping just in front of your line of sight. He smirked down at you, arms crossed over his wide chest.

You rolled your eyes, turning to walk toward the table with the Faewine - Mother knew you’d need it. “That color looks lovely on you, (Y/N),” he continued, falling into step beside you. “Wore it just for me?” You knew he was taking the piss, but you couldn’t help but drop your eyes to the bright red siphons on the backs of his hands. He’d earned four thus far, but your brother promised him and Azriel many more once he became High Lord.

“You must be colorblind, Cassian,” you sighed, brushing it off. He laughed, tilting his head back toward the crowd to find the Vanserra. “Or maybe your more full of yourself than I gave you credit for.”

Cassian took it as a compliment, the cocky male smiling broadly down at you. As you pressed through the mass of Fae, finally finding the wine, your eyes fell onto a pale hand, extending a glass of purplish liquid out to you. You pressed your lips together to suppress the smile that laced your mouth, bright eyes gleaming up at Eris, who, in turn, beamed down to you.

Cassian made haste to snatch the glass, but you beat him to it, taking the cup in both hands and thanking Eris for the drink. “Pleasure to see you again, Lady (Y/N).”

You almost laughed at the formality, so out of place on the male’s tongue.

“None for me?” Cassian mocked, eyes wandering up and down the Autumn male, sizing him up. Eris stood a few inches taller than him, glaring down at the Illyrian from under his eyelashes. He stood lean, unable to match Cassian’s muscular build. You weren’t convinced either was I dominated by the other.

“You have two capable hands, no?” Eris seethed, gaze finally falling back to you, giving you a similar up-and-down. His red eyes lingered on your long leg, your hips and the curve of your breast, hidden beneath the dark red fabric.

Cassian grumbled a response, glaring at the male as his eyes washed over you. Your cheeks heated, uncomfortable with the third-party viewer, standing so close to the two of you, when all you could think about was Eris’s hands tracing that same path down your body.

When Eris’s hand fell to the small of you back, warm fingers brushing against the smooth silk of your dress, Cassian’s eyes flitted to Azriel, who was already halfway across the room making his way toward you. You called to Rhys, testing his newly flourishing daemati power.

Control your guard dogs, you hissed toward him, once you felt his tallon drag down your mental shields just enough.

They’re protecting you. I don’t need that Autumn filth touching you like that.

I don’t need them watching my every movement, either. Tell them to leave me alone. You shut him out of your mind without waiting for a response, eyes falling to Rhys across the room, hanging onto every word Tamlin said. You narrowed your eyes at him, once those indigo ones flitted to you momentarily.

With a roll of his eyes and subtle shake of his head, he glanced toward his two friends, undoubtedly telling them to back off. He turned back to Tamlin as Cassian and Azriel glanced at each other before reluctantly turning to find someone else to bother. “Be careful, (Y/N),” Cassian offered you as he joined his friend.

“Quite the posse you’ve gotten yourself here,” Eris stated, watching the males walk away with their tails tucked between their legs.

You leaned into his touch every so slightly, enough to go unnoticed to everyone except the two of you. His hand flattened against your back, fingers splaying over the top of your ass.

“Eris,” you warned, turning to face him. You didn’t see your father in the crowd, fearful he would find you and Eris standing too close for his liking. Eris was worried about the same thing, actually, but he was too distracted to care about what his father might think about it.

“Dance with me?” He asked, turning you toward the dancing area, where the orchestra had just begun testing their instruments.

Your hand fell to his arm, holding his thick bicep through the heavy fabric of his brown jacket. “I don’t want to dance.”

Fire flashed in his eyes and his jaw set as he stared down at you in complete understanding. “Then lead the way.”

You had to force breath in your lungs, not used to the way his voice dropped when he spoke so quietly to you. His words rattled in your bones.

Taking hold of his hand still behind your back, you brought it around your hip, holding it there, fingers sliding between his. You made your way through the crowd, following the perimeter of the room to avoid as many onlookers as possible.

All you could think about was his lips pressed against your chest, hands following the curve of your bodice as he held you in the woods.

Eris, with something similar on his mind, followed you quietly, glaring at any onlookers who watched your swift exit. He bared his teeth at his younger brothers, whooping far off in the crowd, smiling as the heiress of the Night Court led their brother into her bed chambers.

As soon as you left the ballroom, sneaking through the servant’s exit into the hallway, Eris twisted you around in his arms, holding you firmly by the waist and pulling you flush against his front. His head swooped down to your, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, unable to wait any longer.

Your hands rose immediately to his face, holding his cheeks as you opened your mouth and made to devour him. Fingers rising to curl through his hair, you pressed yourself into him and allowed him to lean forward more, all the way until he backed you into the wall.

You pulled his hair, grasping at the stands to pull him down more, smashing your lips against his. He groaned, hands splaying down your back to your ass, grabbing your upper thighs and pulling you up against the wall, pinned to his torso. Your legs immediately wrapped around him, ankles crossing behind his back. The both of you were immensely grateful for that slit in your dress, allowing you to mold yourself completely to his front.

Your arms wound around his neck, locking him against you, letting him sloppily kiss you, and run his tongue against your bottom lip. With a sigh, you granted him access, not caring how messy the kiss was, or who happened to see.

Eris, apparently disagreeing with the latter, squeezed your ass in his palm, stepping away from the wall, holding you to his chest. “Where am I taking you?” He whispered against your lips.

Gods, right here. Right now. When you didn’t respond fast enough, still enamored with his mouth on yours, he smacked your ass, earning a yelp and small jerk against his front. You rubbed yourself against him slightly, arching your back to press your chest to his, pulling back just enough to stare into his lust filled eyes. “My room.”

“Okay and…” He sighed, dipping his head to meet the side of your neck, just under where your jaw met your neck. He licked a broad stripe over your sensitive skin, evoking chills down your spine. You gripped the back collar of his jacket to steady yourself as his sharp white teeth sunk softly into your flesh. “Where would that be?”

You sighed against him, wishing there wasn’t as many layers of clothes between you. “That way.” You lazily hung an arm out behind you, pointing down the grand hallway. Eris placed a sloppy kiss to your neck as he began his journey, easily carrying you through the empty halls.

He carried you through the cold corridors, following your breathless directions as you planted wet kisses across his jawline. He burned hot, something you chalked up to the fire flowing through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to take you in the middle of the hallway, especially as he felt you bouncing against his dick as he half-ran up the stairs to your bedroom, your warm cunt rubbing against the front of his pants.

“Left,” you whispered, kissing against his ear and he approached one of the final doors. He kicked open the heavy mahogany door easily, letting you reach a hand behind him and slam it shut.

Without letting you go, his lips found yours again, messier than before, one hand framing your face to tilt your head perfectly opposite of his so he could devour you.

He ever so slowly dragged himself to the bed, where he knelt on the mattress and laid you against the plush blankets and mountain of pillows. Your wings stretched out behind you side to side, and Eris’s eyes moved from left to right, taking it in. “Is that comfortable?” You nodded, and barely unhooked your legs from him, just enough so he could lean before you, pulling away only to drink you in.

The most beautiful female he’d ever seen, there laying under him, waiting for him to take her oh so slowly. Eris never thought he had good karma, but that night he felt like the luckiest male in the world.

His hand ran down your front, from your neck to your chest, over the curve of your breast and down your stomach, along that bare thigh. He breathed your name, a sigh of relief, finally able to continue what he’d started in the woods.

He brought his hand up to your face, thumb brushed over your cheekbone as he dropped his other hand opposite of your head, positioning himself over you. Eris leaned in so slowly, pressing a careful, soft kiss to your waiting lips.

It was the kiss he intended to have that first time, so slow and perfect. You hummed against him, hands circling around his neck again and curling in his hair. You broke only for breath, for a split second before capturing each other’s lips again.

You quickly tired of his patience, of that carefully planned out kiss, instead pulling him further into you, legs tightening around him. He didn’t flatten against the mattress until you’d pulled yourself up to meet him, your core pressed into him as he hovered over the mattress.

He chuckled against your lips, pinching your ass before he fully dropped to the plush covers, leaning his weight into you. Your arms wined down his torso, nails raking against the sewn embellishments on the front of his jacket.

“This needs to come off,” Eris breathed, lips moving to skin over the flushed skin under your jaw. His hands fell over your hips, unable to keep still, dragging from your waist to your hips, curling around to hold the soft flesh of your ass that was pressed against the mattress.

“Say please, Eris,” you mewed breathlessly, much like he had said during your last encounter in the Autumn forest. Your hands waded through his hair and down his back, desperate to pull him closer to you.

He sighed heavily, dragging his lips up the side of your jaw, kissing his way up under your ear. His tongue dragged up the shell of your ear as he pressed his cock into you, grinding against you through your thin dress. You let out a shaky breath, wishing you’d made him disrobe before climbing over you. His lips touched your ear as he whispered his plea. “Please, (Y/N).”

You moaned, opening your legs wider for him to settle between, for him to press his cock against your aching core. His hand ran down your leg, exposed from the slit cut all the way up to your hip. His fingertips barely touched you, yet left a wake of fire in their path. His hand found purchase under your ass, where he pulled you upward, impossibly closer to him as he continued his desperate movements, rutting against you. “Please.”

You picked your head up from the mattress, hands sliding across his chest to push him off of you. He sat up immediately, though not dropping his hands from your backside. You stared at him, through half lidded eyes as you reached your arms over your head behind you, unfastening the few buttons at the back of your neck, holding the collar of your dress together.

As you worked your way down, Eris’s hands fell from your ass and instead joined your own hands, moving back so you could sit up and he could unfasten the remaining buttons. His long arms stretched behind you, giving you the perfect opportunity to work on the layers of hooks and buttons lining the front of his suit.

The golden hooks were quick to unfasten, and you pushed open his suit jacket so it hung loosely off his shoulders and you made haste on the white shirt underneath. Eris’s movements slowed as he became distracted with your work. You pulled the cotton material, untucking it from his tailored brown trousers, finishing off the rest of his buttons.

Your fingers danced down the pale skin of his abdomen, tracing the muscle lines down under his bellybutton, along the faint pale hairs that led into those thick pants. As you pulled at the ends of his white shirt, your knuckles brushed against the bulge in his pants, grazing his throbbing cock underneath however many more layers.

His eyes fluttered closed, lips parted just slightly as you stared up at him, the beautiful male in your bed, desperate for your touch. His hands were frozen behind you, one palm curling around you, laying flat against your collarbone and the curve of your throat, gripping your shoulder. The other held a death grip on the soft fabric behind your back, the only other thing grounding him to you.

Your fingers traced the outline of his cock, around the swell until you found yourself back at the hem of his trousers. You brushed against his shaking skin, muscles trembling beneath you as you hooked your fingers inside his pants, making your way to unfasten the button and pull him free.

But a knock sounded at the door.

Eris snapped out of his trance, head swiveling to the door, unsure of whether your visitor would be entering the room, too.

Azriel, who undoubtedly knew what you were doing and exactly who you were doing it with, offered you a merciful knock and warning. “Make yourself decent before your brother barges in.”

You prayed to all the gods that he wasn’t watching with those forsaken shadows.

“Fuck,” you hissed, pulling your hands away, buttoning the back of your dress together again. Eris dropped his hands to his front, hastily closing all of his garments and falling back to sit on the bed before you.

Eris watched you as he then clambered off the bed, standing before you just in time for Rhys to push past Azriel and into your room. You shoved your legs out in front of you, sitting behind Eris, making sure your dress was placed to cover all of your exposed areas. “Get the out,” you called, pressing your hands against the silk of your dress.

“You’re talking to him, right?” Rhys mocked, staring at the wild-haired Autumn male. “If he touched you, (Y/N), Cauldron help him - ”

You stood behind Eris, who shuffled aside to make room for you to face your brother. “Shut up, Rhysand. I’m not a child - ”

Cassian burst into the room, Azriel slithering in beside him, both of them flanking your brother.

The trio of purity, apparently.

“So you think you can fuck this Autumn scum?”

Before you could bite back a response to your unwelcome brother, Cassian was desperate to chime in, interested in landing some blows on the male beside you. Azriel’s expression remained neutral, bored even. His shadows skidded across the floor, swirling around Eris’s ankles.

“Betrothed Autumn scum,” Cassian added with a grin.

You couldn’t stop your head from whipping to the side, staring up at Eris, whose eyes were wide with surprise. “Betrothed?” You whispered, mouth hanging open ever so slightly, wings shuddering behind you. Your stomach dropped to your feet, a dull ache forming in your chest with each heartbeat. “You knew you were promised to someone else and you still…” you couldn’t raise your voice, couldn’t finish what you were about to say, even.

“I wasn’t going to marry her - I already told my father - ” Eris’s hand reached up from his side to grab your hand, to hold you as he continued his story.

You barely moved, only enough to curl your arms behind your back. You continued to stare up at the male, the one who had touched you, who kissed you, who was prepared to beg for you, all while knowing you could never be his, and he yours. His red eyes burned into yours, brows knit, pleading for you to hear him out - how he already told his father he’d never marry that female. That he’d sooner leave the Autumn Court than take her as his wife, his Queen.

“Marry who?” Rhys asked, his own eyebrows pulled taught in insincerity. He was nearly giddy with anticipation.

Eris’s eyes traveled slowly across the room, afraid to leave yours, already brimming with tears, instead to meet your brother’s sparkling eyes. If looks could kill, Rhysand would have fallen then and there. But the Autumn male refused to answer, instead his jaw clenched, fire burning at his palm where it hung in the air, still reaching out to you.

You paid no mind to the smoldering before you, to the sparks that very well could have burned the room down, should Eris will it. Your head swiveled to Cassian, smirking at Eris, head tilted back in pleasure with the knife that is about to be wielded through Eris’s heart. Rhysand didn’t smile, but the gleam in his eye and twitch at the corner of his mouth made you want to slap it off his face, even though you had a mind to slap Eris twice as hard. It was Azriel who spoke, though, the man of few words suddenly finding his footing. His head was tilted forward so that the darkness cascading through the room covered those bright hazel eyes, causing him to become one with the night. And ever the Shadowsinger, his knowledge was unmatched. “Morrigan.”

Eris flinched, blinking so slowly, so afraid to direct his attention back to you.

Baby Morrigan.

He was betrothed to your cousin. She was set to grow up, groomed especially for the Autumn heir, and marry him the moment she turned eighteen. You clenched your stomach, fumbling a step backward, unable to stop yourself from heaving over, bent at the waist. Eris jutted a hand out to catch you, to which your eyes were immediately drawn to. Your wings flared out behind you, for balance, but also in pure Illyrian instinct, scaring away the approaching predator.

You held your stomach, twisting and churning, shaking your head rapidly, frowning, unable to meet his pleading eyes. You shut your own eyes, praying no tears slipped through as you turned, wings high, back facing him as you made to throw up on the floor.

You didn’t want to imagine those hands on you, those hands meant for your cousin in some sick scheme his father and your uncle - and probably your father - had come up with.

Rhysand took his opportunity to launch himself at the male, unstopped by Cassian and Azriel. He threw himself at Eris, who was caught off guard, attention still drawn to you. Rhysand landed his fist directly against his face, causing both of them to go tumbling to the ground.

Cassian extended a hand toward you, which you took, holding yourself up. He held you in place, stopping you from falling onto the ground and heaving your guts. His other hand fell to your back, just below your wings, as he guided you out of the room, leaving Azriel supervising the brawling males, should Eris pull his unfair advantage and use his fire against Rhys.

You knew the two Illyrians would have jumped in already if it truly was a battle to the death. It was something meant between your fathers and uncle, something they’d have to deal with later.

But honestly you didn’t care if they killed each other. Eris, the male who’d known he was to be married, knew exactly who he was expected to marry, and still touched you; still had taken you to your own bedroom begging to fuck you. Rhysand, you knew wasn’t innocent, using this information - that he knew for gods knew how long - against you, meant to hurt Eris but not caring how much it would hurt you.

________________________________

You hadn’t gone back to your bedroom after that, after Cassian had led you to the library to calm down. He’d sat you down on the sofa, watching from a few steps away as you dropped your head in your hands, elbows propped on your shaking knees. Your stomach curled, flopping as you sucked in air, willing yourself not to vomit.

Unsure of when the two fighting males would give up on their fight, you left for Velaris. You had told Cassian you needed some time to sort through your thoughts and sent him back to make sure the heirs didn’t kill each other - that, and inform the both of them to leave you alone once they inevitably cooled off.

Eris, you knew would never find Velaris - he could search the entirety of the Night Court and he’d never find you, simply just lose the trace of your scent in the mountains. Rhysand, on the other hand, would find you immediately. With Cassian relaying your message, you knew you’d only bought yourself a few days.

You had no interest in speaking with him, to see the bruises on his face and the messy black hair you imagined Eris had singed with his fire. He crawled into your mind, knocking gently on your mental shields, leaving when you wouldn’t let him in. He left you to spend a week in Velaris, Azriel sending word that Rhys told your father you were visiting Velaris to see some old friends.

You stayed inside the townhouse, bundled up in your dark bedroom for a few days. You could barely manage to light the hearth, the warm fire that heated the cozy room quickly. The crackling wood reminded you of Eris, of his temperament and quick wit. But staring at the orange flames licking at the darkness only made your heart sink.

His smell wrapped around you, the oak burning and swirling through the small room. You imagined his arms around you, wrapped up in the Autumn forest, red and orange and brown leaves falling beside you. You wished you could show him Velaris, hide him away in your little home, the one that hadn’t seen another visitor since your mother, since she passed so long ago. You wished you still wanted to show him Velaris. You wished you could look into those burning eyes - those that haunted your sleep - without the wave of nauseousness crashing over you.

When you’d grown tired of laying around, not eating or drinking, you’d ventured out through the snow to the small cafe in the Rainbow, making light conversation with the passing citizens of Velaris. The second you sat down in the small shop, and not a moment too soon, the Shadowsinger plopped down across from you, glaring at you under his eyelashes.

“So you have been watching me,” you muttered over the rim of your mug, sipping the hot chocolate slowly.

He offered you a shrug, dropping his hands to his lap. “Following orders,” he replied, voice low and quiet.

“My brother’s or my father’s?”

He leveled your gaze, wings perched up and stead behind him. “Does it matter?”

You gave him the same shrug he graced you with. “And what message have you come to deliver from them?”

“None,” he said, leaning forward, reaching into the chest pocket on his leathers, pulling out a neatly folded letter. The white envelope remained sealed, the wax crest of the Autumn Court fully intact along the paper opening. He slid it across the table, carefully watching as your eyes fell to the letter in his scarred hand.

You bit your lip, afraid to touch the paper. “You came to personally deliver this letter?”

Azriel stifled a sigh, falling back into his chair. “This is the latest one. There’s a mountain more that had been hand delivered to the Court of Nightmares, no doubt all begging an audience with you.” You didn’t miss the humor in his voice, the lack of surprise that laced his tone.

“I’ve only been gone a week,” you replied, picking up the letter, fingertip grazing over the hardened red wax. “Why did you give this to me?” Your eyes lifted to the Shadowsinger’s hazel ones, focused on you from across the table.

“I know you weren’t there or aware, even, of the deal that transpired between the Night Court and Autumn Court,” he began, words chosen carefully. “But I think it would behoove you to hear the story from his perspective.” You rolled your eyes at the Illyrian, offering him nothing but a hefty exhale. “And then let Rhysand tell you what transpired.”

He spoke as if the stories differed, as if Azriel knew what had happened in both of the separate conversations. Perhaps being the Spymaster of Night Court had its perks, the unlimited access to information, the truth and lies that were traded between courts. Maybe Azriel was truly the only one with all of the information. “Because Rhysand will tell me something different than Eris?” You asked innocently - stupidly, perhaps.

The Shadowsinger stood, wings flitting out ever so slightly as he made to leave. “I had eyes on Vanserra after he left the Court of Nightmares,” he stated simply, as if it were nothing but normal. “He’s beside himself with guilt. Nearly got himself killed by returning to his father after what Rhys and Cassian did to him.” Your stomach lurched, unable to imagine the injury those two Illyrians would have inflicted on him. “He’s a good male.”

You peered up at the tall male, mouth running dry at those unexpected words. “And what - you aren’t going to hate him just because Rhysand does?”

Azriel stared back, and just before leaving the cafe he said, “You deserve the truth, at least, (Y/N).”

________________________________

You’d thrown the letter into the fire.

After making your way back to the Court of Nightmares, back to the cold stony walls of your father’s estate, you sent word to call to Eris. Your sentry escorted the male to your Court the next day, an offer he hadn’t thought twice about accepting.

You’d worn your finest gown, a long black dress that pooled around your shoes, but was buttoned all the way up your neck. The fabric itself was as dark as your wings, black corset ensuring you sat tall and intimidating. You waited for Eris in the throne room, perched atop your father’s dark chair, a metal crown placed atop your head, jewels lacing your covered neck.

The heiress of the Night Court, unafraid of the fiery Autumn male, not intimidated, not to be pushed around, not going to back down.

Your guard led him into the room, hand placed on his sword, announcing his entrance. “My lady (Y/N), Eris Vanserra of the Autumn Court.”

You peered down at him from the top of the throne, dropping only your eyes to the male, as you held your chin high and shoulders back. Your hands gripped the edges of the arm rests, though, as you willed yourself not to shake. You kept your wings outstretched behind you - the epitome of Nightmare. You nodded at the sentry, dismissing him, leaving you and Eris alone in the stone room.

His gaze did not waver from you. He was nervous, of course, unsure of if you’d let him speak, and if you would even believe him should you hear him out. Never having seen you as powerful, he was prepared to drop to his knees and bow to you, the powerful female of Night.

Despite the week of healing, you still saw the bruise under his eye, purple fading into yellow, and the still healing cuts along his bottom lip and cheekbone. It was truly a testament to how badly Cassian and Rhys had hurt him - that, or perhaps Beron, dealing out an additional punishment once he returned home already beaten. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice cracking despite the low volume.

“Considering your attempts to reach me,” you began, leaning toward where he stood before you. “I would think you had something important to tell me.” He swallowed, throat bobbing beneath the tall collar of his sweater. You waited for him to nod, then continued. “I don’t want you to explain that night - ” your stomach turned and your heart hammered in your chest as you remembered how your brother’s friends delivered the news. How it rocked you to your core, the most unexpected news that disgusted every ounce of your being. “ - how long have you known?”

You couldn’t hold back the bite in your tone, and Eris all but flinched. His shoulders sagged a bit as he held his hands up in surrender, taking two steps closer to you. Those tall riding boots clanged against the cold floor, echoing in the hollow room. “I knew my father had been planning on making arrangements for my marriage - he’d been planning it since the day I was born. He had meetings in secret with your father, ones that I was not privy to.”

You let out a slow breath, narrowing your eyes at the male before you. “How long have you known?”

“It’s not that simple,” he said, holding himself back from holding his hands out toward you. As your sparkling eyes narrowed at him, the darkness from the corners loomed closer, strangling the light in the room. He took a nervous step closer to you, away from the pure night that cascaded around him. “Beron has planned for me to marry a different female - gods only know who - but your father disagreed. It was Keir who stepped in and - ”

“Eris,” you interrupted.

“I’ve known since before you came to the Autumn woods, that very first night.” He did jut out a hand, still too far to reach you. “But I didn’t know who until just before the ball.” You bit your bottom lip, swallowing the words that threatened to pour out of your throat, willing away the tears that pricked the back of your eyes. At your silence, Eris panicked, filling the silence with more explanation. “I was going to tell you (Y/N), I swear it - that night, I was going to tell you everything. I wouldn’t go through with it.”

You nodded numbly. “Yet you didn’t.”

Eris inched closer, knee bent and foot propped on the first step on the landing up towards the throne. He ran a hand through his messy curls, the frustration clear on his face. “I know and it’s my fault but I saw you in that godsdamned dress and I just couldn’t. I would have after if they hadn’t barged in.”

After. Gods, you wanted to be so mad at him. So mad for his intention to bed you even with the knowledge of his betrothal. And with who. You wanted to be mad, but couldn’t help the butterflies that swirled in your stomach at the thought of him pressing you into the mattress, fucking you until all you could remember was his name. You pressed your legs together at the memory of his cock dragging against your core, even through the thin silk of your dress. Thankfully, your current gown was puffy enough that you thought he missed your subtle movement.

He didn’t.

Eris took another step closer, climbing up two steps at a time as he reached the top of the landing. It was then he who was peering down at you, standing taller than the back of the throne itself. “(Y/N),” he whispered, taking a knee before you. He pulled your left hand from the arm of the chair, the last lifeline you had to the real world. Darkness swirled around both of you, pure sparkling night to keep out any leering eyes and ears. His large pale hands cupped yours, warmth leeching your cool skin. “I would never marry her. I told my father - told your father - ”

Your eyes flashed, a gasp parted your lips. Your father. It may have been him that had beaten Eris for disobeying his order, for ruining his plan to tie the courts together. Gods, it could have been the both of them - two mighty High Lords wielding their powers against the near defenseless male.

“I told them I wouldn’t marry her. (Y/N),” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to each of the knuckles on the back of your hand. “I won’t listen to them.” With a final kiss, he brought his glowing eyes back up to yours. “I’ll leave my whole court for you. I need you - and only you.”

You stared at him, level with those hypnotizing red eyes, flames of burning passion pouring into you. He leaned into you, free hand curling around the back of your head, cheek brushing your thumb as he tilted your head. “I missed you dearly,” he whispered. “The most painful week of my life.”

You raised your other hand up to his face, holding his jaw in your palm. Your thumb traced the cut on his cheek, the nearly healed mark on his upper lip. He smiled ever so slightly as you traced over his lip, taking in all the damage that had been inflicted on the male. “I can see that,” you replied dryly, voice barely audible.

He shook his head gently, not enough to disturb your hand pressed ever so lightly against his face. “No,” he breathed. He lifted your hand, still clasped together in your lap, and held your open hand against his chest. “In here, (Y/N). And I swear I won’t let them keep us apart anymore.” Eris pressed his lips against your palm.

You pulled your hand away from him, off that soft corduroy, and held the other side of his face. Without any more hesitation, Eris bent forward and captured your lips with his.

________________________________

You went to find Rhys later that night, once you’d sent Eris on his way back to Autumn. You didn’t want to dwell on it for too long, despite how much you missed the taste of his lips and that bonfire smell that laced his skin.

You heeded Azriel’s advice to hear Rhysand’s side of the story, hoping he would at least make more sense of the situation. And you’d been ignoring your brother for most of the time that you’d been back in the Night Court. “Nice of you to stop by,” he said once you walked into his bedchamber, finding him propped up at his desk, nose buried in a pile of books.

You rolled your eyes, of course he was already keen to start a fight. “I could do us both a favor and just leave,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

Rhys shut the book he was looking at and stared up at you, dark eyes exactly like your father’s. “You took it the wrong way - ”

“Wrong way, Rhys, really? Was there a right way to take that news? That you thought would be so funny to let Azriel and Cassian deliver?”

Rhys failed to suppress the smile that leached up on his lips, reminiscing in the memory of his friends delivering that blow to Eris. He shook his head, frowning a bit to hide the smile. “It wasn’t meant to be funny, it was meant to keep him away from you. I told you to stay away from him, didn’t I?”

You stared at your brother in his I told you so power trip. “You could have told me beforehand instead of barging into my room like that.”

“I wasn’t expecting to but when Azriel told me he was in your room alone with you I had no other choice, (Y/N). You should be thanking me for keeping him away from you.”

You scoffed, eyes widening. “First of all, you did nothing to keep him away from me. And secondly, I don’t even want to be away from him - ”

“I did more than you know,” he muttered, eyes flitting back to the pile of papers on his desk. When you stared at him, waiting for him to continue, he stood, mirroring your position, arms crossed and glaring at you. “For all you know, you would have ended up stranded in the Autumn Court married to that fool.”

You weighed each word carefully, unsure what to even say.

Married to that fool.

Married.

You bit the inside of your cheek, dropping your head in your hand, fingers rubbing at your forehead. “So you let them go and offer him baby Morrigan instead?” You were nearly yelling at him, the mountain of information swirling in your head, unable to hear yourself even think, let alone speak.

Rhys was near flabbergasted. “I didn’t know Keir would get into the mix - for fuck’s sake they would have taken your wings! It’s the Autumn Court, (Y/N), they’re sick! I would have dealt with her later, I have eighteen years to do it! You didn’t have time - but now you do. I ensured it - you can find someone here, stay here where you’ll be safe.”

“Keeping me here is not keeping me safe, Rhysand,” you replied, leveling your gaze at him. “I’m a fucking prisoner here. You never let me fly, you forbid me of seeing any other courts - I’m bored here, I’m so sick of it here - ” your voice dropped. “Nothing’s been the same since mom died. And trying to pretend nothing happened, keeping everything exactly the same…” you sighed. “It’s not working, Rhys.”

He stood unmoving and unwavering, processing your words. “You have to trust me, (Y/N).”

You shouldn’t have been surprised he still thought he was right, the male had never thought of himself being in the wrong before. “I do but you have to trust me.”

With that, you turned on your heel, gathering up your skirts and leaving his room. He didn’t try to stop you - he’d be dumb if he couldn’t figure out where you were headed.

You made a pit stop in your bedchamber, removing your long heavy dress for a short, thin shift, hidden under a long wool coat. You dove off the balcony without a second thought, dropping off the cliff amongst the cold air. Half of you almost didn’t want to stretch out your wings, instead just disappear into the fog collecting in the dark valley.

But the other half of you called to Eris, to the warm fire and colorful leaves.

You flew faster than you ever had, the cold wind nipping at your ears and biting your cheeks. Rhysand’s words rang in your head, about your planned marriage to Eris. Surely you would have felt different about the male, had you been introduced to him as your betrothed. On the other hand, you wondered if Eris knew you were set to be married. That would have been something he’d have told you today - you prayed to the Mother you were right.

You weren’t going to slow down, not as you rushed through the mountains and through the cold air of Winter. You didn’t stop until you saw the red trees approaching, until you smelled the sweet cinnamon in the air and the burning logs in the distance. You didn’t stop, even as Rhysand’s words rattled around your head: they would have taken your wings.

Eris met you the minute you landed, winnowing to your spot in the woods - the clearing you’d last met at. He pulled you straight into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest and running his hand through your loose hair. His warm palm hovered over your ear, warmth swirling through your bloodstream. You sighed into him, his warm spiced scent wrapping around you.

“We can’t stay here,” he whispered, lips brushing against your forehead as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “The guards are looking for you - they were onto you the moment you crossed the border.”

You turned up to face him, unable to unwrap your arms from where they were clasped behind his back. Your wings ached, chest heaving with desperation for air. “I - ”

Eris shook his head, kissing the cold tip of your nose. His hand brushed up your back, dangerously close to where your wings stemmed out from under your coat. It sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of you, (Y/N),” he whispered, red eyes burning into yours.

Without much more than a nod, Eris winnowed you out of the woods into a warm wood cabin. A fire was roaring in the hearth, reaching out toward Eris, crawling to its master. The floor and walls were lined with mahogany of the deepest brown, thick tapestries and portraits hanging on the walls. In the corner sat a large bed, plush blankets and fur throws piled high on the mattress. You gazed upward at Eris, still holding you in his arms, face barely illuminated in the soft candle light. His eyes were soft, glinting with red as he smiled down at you, eyelashes casting shadows down his cheekbones. He curled a piece of hair around your ear and brushed his thumb along your jawline. He bent down toward you, offering you a small kiss. “They won’t find us here,” he whispered, still holding you against his chest. “I have a little hideout close to the coast. Sorry it’s a little small but - ”

“It’s perfect,” you whispered, stretching up on your tiptoes to kiss him again. He hummed against your lips, dragging his hands over your sides and up to the claps that held your coat together. He deftly unhooked the garment, dragging the heavy wool over your shoulders. It hung off your back, buttons under your wings still fastened.

You stifled a laugh, taking a step back from Eris and breaking your kiss with a giggle. “This is new,” he muttered, waiting as you grabbed the tail of your coat, quickly unhooking the final buttons and dropping the coat.

His eyes widened, lips parted slightly as he took in your clothes - what little remainder of them still hung on your body. The silk black nightgown didn’t leave much to the imagination, dipping low on your chest and stopping short under your hips. His eyes traveled the expanse of your chest, down to the swell of your hips and strong thighs. He licked his lips, staring at you with hungry intention. “If you don’t mind, (Y/N),” he began, hand falling to your hip as he stepped closer to you. “I’d like to finish what we started in your bedroom.”

You nodded, tipping your head back to allow him to kiss you. You offered him a smile, gazing up at him from under your eyelashes. “You said we should have our privacy now, no?”

“Not unless your Shadowsinger decides to stop by,” he grumbled, hoisting you up by the back of your thighs and pulling you into his arms.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and hummed, sticking your head in the crook of his neck, kissing the side of his neck. “If he does,” you replied, teeth dragging over the corner of his jaw. “He can just watch.”

Eris barked out a laugh, one that vibrated your lips against his neck. He gave your ass a light squeeze, his palm spreading over the expanse of your backside. “Little minx. I have no idea what goes on in that Court of yours,” he muttered, dropping a knee to the mattress, still holding you against him. “And I think I may be too jealous to find out.”

Your hand curled upward around the back of his neck, fingers intertwining in his red hair. “Then show me how an Autumn heir fucks,” you breathed, pressing your core against the front of his trousers.

Eris breathed a sigh of expletives, laying you down on the plush throws before him. Your legs remained bent at his sides, letting him settle between your legs, staring down at you. He dragged a line down your leg, from your knee to your thigh, as he took in your beauty. “I’m not going to fuck you, (Y/N),” he murmured, fingers carefully pushing up the hem of your shift. “We have many nights ahead, where I will fuck you into this very bed - so hard you’ll be begging me to stop.” You shivered beneath his touch as the silk pooled around your waist. “Tonight, I’m going to show you how sorry I am. Show you how much you really mean to me.”

He dipped his head toward yours, so close that all you had to do was lift your head and purse your lips to reach him - before he pulled back, dropping his head to your chest, kissing a line across your breasts, licking your nipple through the silk. You huffed a sigh and dropped your head back into the mattress, arching toward him as he pressed his tongue against the smooth dress. “Eris,” you moaned when his head traveled farther down, just until his nose brushed against your belly, lips touching your slit.

“That’s it, (Y/N).” His hands traveled the expanse of your thighs, prying them open and pressing them against the blankets. “So ready for me.” He licked a long stripe up your pussy, hot and writhing and begging.

You arched up into him, yelping out in surprise as he flicked your clit. You’d been waiting for that moment, to have Eris buried between your legs - but nothing you imagined could have compared. Not as his tongue teased you around your clit, only touching the sensitive bud so rarely, only when you were begging for him to do so. “Please, Eris,” you called, ankles crossed over his back.

He stuck his tongue upwards, curling up between your folds, making its way inside of you. As you lifted your hips, trying to shift your position so that his tongue met your clit, he smiled, turning his head to bite the inside of your thigh. Eris laughed at your shaking breath, finally giving in and licking a stripe up your clit. He directed his ministrations to bringing you to orgasm, flicking his tongue back and forth over the bud.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, crying out as your legs shook wildly. He held you in place, which just so happened to involve your thighs clenched tightly around his head. He would have smiled if he hadn’t been so caught up with taking you over the edge, obsessed with how you were crossed between holding him in place and pushing him away. Your stomach clenched, arched off the bed as you rode out your orgasm.

Eris was hesitant to move, unsure if he ever wanted to move or just spend the rest of his days buried between your thighs. Eventually he moved, not without pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit. He stepped backwards, watching as you laid limp on the bed, so blissfully fucked, watching his movements with half lidded eyes. He stripped out of all of his clothing, unable to wait any longer with how hard his cock was pressing against his tight trousers.

He had a lean build, muscle coiled around his long limbs. You made out a few scars across his pale chest, ones you’d be able to make out better once you had some better light. The candle light didn’t do justice to his build, though you vowed to spend the next night exploring his body. As you eyes the heavy dick that hung between his legs, standing at attention, your mouth ran dry, but only one thing was on your mind. He crawled on top of you, propping himself over you with an elbow beside your head.

“I can’t go back there, Eris,” you breathed, staring up at his red eyes. Your fingers brushed over his pointed ear, over the soft curls that fell around his face. “I can’t go back.” You weren’t sure if it was the post-orgasm haze that made you never want to leave Eris and his bed, or it was that one percent of you that was still scared of what came after, when you inevitably had to go.

“You never have to go back, I swear it.” His brows furrowed in determination, in sincerity. His lips pressed into a firm line as he nodded down to you.

“Do you think Autumn will look good on me?” You whispered, smiling up at him.

He sighed, pressing his body into you. As his chest met yours, stomach pressed together, his cock fell forward, hanging between your bodies. The tip touched your belly, heavy and ready, precum leaking from the tip. You hummed as you fit your hand between the two of you, running your palm over his lengthy cock. “You look good in my bed,” he replied, kissing your lips. “You look good in nothing at all.” You rubbed his dick, wrapping your palm around him and pumping a few times. “You will look good in Autumn red, in my colors.” His lips found your neck as he licked a long path over the curve of your neck, biting down as you moved his cock to tease the tip between your folds. He had already made a mess between your legs, the sound of his dick rubbing at your entrance sang through the room. “And you will look so fucking good as my wife.” He sighed, along with you, as he pushed his cock forward, sliding inside of you with ease.

You could have cried with how far Eris pushed into you, how he slid so far, all the way until he was fully hilted inside of you. He let out a shaky breath, pulling all the way out before sliding back in slowly, savoring every moment. He had come so close to this so many times, so many times that he had to fuck his fist with the thought of that sweet caramel running over your chest.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him forward, meeting him in a messy kiss. His tongue met yours, lips sloppily sliding over yours as he devoured you. His hand moved between you to grab a handful of your breast, to flick your nipple and squeeze the plump flesh.

You curled your legs around him, holding your hips off the bed to allow a better angle for him to fuck you, for him to push his cock all the way inside of you - just a bit farther. Enough to have the tip of his cock pressing against your belly, aching in your womb.

You grabbed his hand, the one squeezing your breast as you held it to your lips, kissing each of his fingertips. His eyes traveled from watching where the two of you were connected, where his cock slid in and out of your pussy so effortlessly, so perfectly, to your eyes. You let him watch you move his hand over your shoulder, holding it just above the bone of your wing. His brows crossed, and his hips faltered for the first time all evening.

You nodded, holding him by the wrist as his thumb met the dark leathery skin. You jumped in surprise, despite the anticipation of him touching such a private extension of yourself. Eris let out a shaky breath as your cunt clenched around him, the involuntary reaction so unexpected. He smiled through his shock, letting his index finger run along the bone.

“Eris,” you nearly begged, crossing your ankles around his back, pulling him back into you further. He snapped out of his fixation, leaning over you again, letting his cock sink all the way back into you. He rocked back and forth, barely moving as he rutted against your front. You moaned, his dick rubbing the sweet spot inside of you. His hands pulled you up, hoisting you by the small of your back as he fell back to sit on his knees.

Eris settled you on his cock, earning a breathless sigh as he pierced you even deeper than he had before. You steadied yourself by letting your feet fall to the mattress on either side of him, bouncing yourself slowly on his dick. His hands moved from your back to your ass, squeezing as he moved you even more, riding him harder and harder.

When your head tipped back, sighing in pure bliss, his hands rose to where your wings stemmed from your back, swirling around the soft skin of your back. Your breath shuttered, anticipation of his next movement stirring in your blood. Your eyes had fallen shut and you gripped his shoulders for dear life, still rocking back and forth on his cock as his fingers traced down your spine between your wings.

You dug your fingernails into his shoulder, earning a growl from the male below you. He traced the outer shell of your wing, the hard bone from the base to the crux of the bend. You squeezed your legs together, clenching around Eris as his featherlight touch ran back and forth. “Eris - I can’t - ” You choked out a breath, squeezing your eyes shut and sitting straight, dropping your forehead against his.

He hadn’t known what it felt like to touch your wings, and wouldn't have imagined how soft they felt. He sure as hell couldn’t imagine how it felt for you - but he wasn’t expecting to wield such a reaction out of you. “Yes you can, (Y/N),” he dipped down and pressed a kiss to your lips, watching as you came on his cock. He only dropped his hands when he absolutely had to, when you had come so hard your legs shook, unable to hold yourself up. He lifted you up and down slowly, moving you forward and back so your clit brushed against his pelvis as you came. You harshly gasped as the sensitive bud rubbed against his skin, against the coarse hair trailing from his navel. “My fucking good little bat,” he breathed, kissing your jawline. You exhaled a steady breath, hands hanging limply over his back, legs flexed but lack, letting Eris still move you atop his lap.

As he moved his lips over the crook of your neck, he blew cool air over the arch of your wing, causing them to widen and flex behind you, as you clenched around him for the final time, riding out the remainder of your orgasm. Eris came as you slid over him, shivering as his orgasm took over and he came into you, painting your insides. He ran hot, body temperature raising as he groaned, rutting into you with fever.

You curled your arms around him again, letting him lower you back to the mattress, legs hooked around his waist. Eris simply settled back between your legs, holding you close to his burning chest as he nuzzled his face into your neck. You didn’t want to let him go, for him to move and pull his cock from you. You could spend the rest of your life wrapped in his arms in his bed.

And Eris felt the same. “Stay with me, (Y/N),” he whispered, running his hand over your messy hair.

Your heart swelled. “Here?” You but your lip, if he asked you to stay in Autumn, you would. No matter threat threats your brother or Beron would attempt, you would stay beside Eris.

“Gods, anywhere,” he replied, voice muffled in the crook of your neck. “Just with me, (Y/N), please.”

You pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “Anywhere. Always.”

#eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra x you #eris #eris acotar #acotar #eris fanfiction #eris vanserra fanfiction #eris fanfic #eris/reader #eris/you #eris vanserra/you #eris vanserra/reader #reader insert #fanfiction

376 notes · View notes

danikamariewrites · 10 months

Text

Helion x adhd!reader

A/n: I love writing these and love that you guys are enjoying them. My requests are open so feel free to send something for any SJM character (I will def be doing ones for Nesta and Mor at some point) thank you @teenageeggscissorslawyer for requesting this I'm so sorry it took so long

Warnings: some angst and mentions of mental health struggles

He knew about your ADHD, you were very open about it wanting to help make more people in the court aware of it. You're all about mental health which is something taboo in Pythian, but with Helion, you work on helping the Day Courts people normalize it

Helion was always there to help when you needed it. He was very soft and gentle with you

Helion is always there to help soothe your anxiety. Being his mate you get very overwhelmed by his job and the dangers he faces. He would always help you rationalize your thoughts so the catastrophic ones wouldn't take over

Sometimes you didn't want to do that because you just weren't in the right head space to rationalize things. The way you dealt with it all was always your choice

Sometimes you wanted to be alone in your room or walk it off

Helion would never force a solution on you if it caused you more stress

He's a very scheduled person and that's something you struggled with

Time blindness was your downfall in the past for a lot of things like showing up to classes on time or remembering important dates

When he makes you high lady you are unsure of your leadership skills

But Helion helped you navigate a lot of the work and to find things to be passionate about to help the court

You also had a kick-ass assistant who was always on top of things. Lana was truly a godsend, that girl never forgets a thing, and you always make sure to show that her work doesn't go unnoticed

You also had a bad habit of speaking out when you shouldn't or cutting people off. Once a High Lords meeting you had a little outburst

Beron was bitching about the cauldron knew what, and you just let slip what you thought was a murmured, “Fucking gods will shut up no one wants to listen to this.”

You covered your mouth as your face went beet red and all eyes were on you. Cassian, Viviane, and Feyre we're trying not to laugh while the other High Lords gaped at you

You tried to apologize but Beron wasn't hearing it. Thesan then called the meeting to an end and everyone went their separate ways

Once you were home you were on the brink of tears trying to apologize to your husband and he started cackling, “Gods love I know that was bad timing but it was so funny seeing Beron Vanserra speechless.” you started laughing too

Doubted yourself a lot and if you were worth the trouble to Helion

Helion would always tell you, “You are not trouble. You are worth all the love and attention I give you and more.” “you are the light of my life my love. If I haven't done enough to prove that I'm sorry.” “your thoughts cannot hurt you. Write them out and you'll see they're just words that mean nothing I promise.”

He felt bad when you were down about your ADHD. Part of him was mad that he had the power to heal but he couldn't heal this for you

When Helion brought that up once you told him, “I feel that way too sometimes but I know this isn't something that can be healed like a wound or broken bones. It's who I am and you've helped me so much.”

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar reader imagine #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #helion spell cleaver #high lord helion #helion x reader #helion x you #helion acotar #helion fluff #helion headcanon

69 notes · View notes

spidersmiceandeverythingnice · 1 year

Text

I Like the Lucien / Helion Plot - But Also!?

So as much as I objectively enjoy all of the Lucien/Helion/Lady Autumn intrigue and think that this plotline overall adds to the depth of the characters/world of ACOTAR - we can't really deny that some objectively WEIRD and honestly terrible choices were made in the creation of this.

I want to start off by addressing the great big elephant in the room which is that Lucien is primarily described with the same "golden skin" BS that SJM is known for now - but at the same time, *Tamlin* is ALSO described as having bronzed or golden skin. Lucien is then later described as being pale, and as having a resemblance to Beron, who is extremely pale. The impression that you might get from book one (and book two, honestly) is that Tamlin and Lucien are white guys who spend time outside in the Spring Court, as opposed to the faeries who were imprisoned Under the Mountain, who haven't seen the sun in years. (For context: I also am a white person! In the summers I worked as a lifeguard, I spent lots of time in the sun and I developed a deep brown sun tan that often lasted for months, even into the winter when I was spending more time indoors! I've also known white people who have gold or olive undertones to their natural skin, so describing characters as "golden" or "tan" does not immediately lead me to assume that a character is non-white.) I've seen reviewers refer to this writing tic of SJMs' as "Kardashianing" her characters - which honestly, might be the case. She really wants to be seen as a writer who puts out diverse and empowering work but also - she's demonstrably doing the bare minimum AND when she does include non-white, non-straight representation, she tends to do a really bad job at it!

In short, these descriptors are super super weird, given that Lucien is meant to be a mixed race character. ZERO effort is put into the narrative at any point in order to meaningfully distinguish him from SJM's endless roster of white heroes. He's explicitly stated to resemble his pale-skinned family at various points. The main information we get from the narrative other than "red hair" and "mechanical eye" is that Lucien's beauty is "cruel," as in he's in a total heart-breaker, but given that SJM is constantly coming up with new ways to describe the Most Handsomest White Guys Ever, this doesn't MEAN anything.

We do, however, get the reveal of Lucien's heritage in the absolute stupidest way possible.

So, it's now Book 3 of ACOTAR. All of the High Lords - the most powerful people in Prythian (who are, of course, all less powerful, cool, and handsome than Most Handsome and Powerful Guy Ever, Rhysand) - have all been in a room with Feyre for the first time since she was Under the Mountain, and she finally gets to observe them in close quarters.

Later, Helion - who is described as being dark-skinned, thereby showing that SJM does, in fact, know how to make a character explicitly non-white even if she doesn't do any work putting her non-white characters in cultural context - shows up at the Night Court slumber party and gives some vague information about the time that he once had an affair with Lady Autumn.

Upon learning this, Feyre goes, "Omg, he's totally Lucien's REAL father!!! They even look alike!!"

And Rhysand goes, "OMG!!!! You're SO right, Feyre, and I can't believe I didn't realize the truth until right this very minute!!!"

There are a LOT of issues with this. This scene is apparently meant to show how clever and observant Feyre is but - there are just so many assumptions being made here that it just comes out of left fucking field! To go on a brief tangent, the narrative basically reveals the "truth" of Lucien's parentage, which somehow nobody but Feyre ever guessed, and then immediately condemns Helion for not rescuing Lady Autumn from her abusive husband, because Rhysand rescued Feyre from HER depression so every man should do the same thing. At this point, we have no other information on their relationship so it's frankly bizarre that Feyre is so judgemental towards Helion about this. And to that end - the Lady of Autumn is UNNAMED and has exactly one speaking line in the entire books! At this point, she's not even a character, she's just a sad, silent victim for Helion and Lucien to angst about!

Furthermore, this reveal is now contingent on the fact that Helion is not white, and Lucien looks like him, therefore, Lucien is not white! Except, and I CANNOT emphasize this enough - not a single iota of narrative effort was put into describing him as a nonwhite character until this point.

Now, Feyre does know Lucien and has spent some time with him, so this begs a lot of questions: Is Lucien apparently so pale that Feyre didn't realize he wasn't white until she physically saw Helion's face and then put two-and-two together? That seems to be what the narrative wants you to think, except in that case, why the HELL is Rhysand surprised about the parentage reveal?? Because Rhysand is supposed to be Helion's close personal friend, someone who has known both Helion AND Lucien for centuries and who can also read minds. Why, instead of just blindly accepting Feyre's theory, doesn't he say something along the lines of, "You know what, Feyre, I've also suspected that for a long time - but we should keep it between us, because we could put Lucien and his mother in serious danger if we start throwing accusations of infidelity around, even if they're true!" A line like that would go a long way to showing the type of character Rhysand is supposed to be - clever, ancient, politically savvy but with a kind heart - because as it stands, he looks straight up stupid!

I want to emphasize again that I LIKE this plotline on the surface - but I would like it a lot more if SJM put literally any effort into making Lucien a mixed character in a meaningful way, instead of something that's tacked on at the last minute.

As it stands, I'm terribly certain that the reveal of his parentage has something to do with SJM's genuinely shitty morality system. Because Lucien - who is shown to be self-sacrificing to an extreme degree, who is shown to be fair, compassionate, and loyal to Feyre even when it puts his own safety at risk - for some reason, needs to be "redeemed" in the narrative. In ACOMAF, his character is tainted by Beron's blood and his loyalty to Tamlin (a close person friend who is also Lucien's boss) - and so, he can't help Feyre, can't rescue her, and therefore is condemned. In ACOWAR, those two things are neatly cut out of his character arc. He gets sexual trauma fostered on him so that Feyre can consider him worthy of help and rescue from the Spring Court, and then, oh, by the way, it turns out that Lucien isn't actually an example of a young man who actively chooses to go against his abusive father and treat people with respect despite his tremendous trauma! No, in fact, Lucien's REAL father is one of the good guys, someone who never did any abuse!! Lucien was GOOD all along, don't you see!?! Unlike Tamlin, whose dad was an abusive POS and Tamlin just follows in his footsteps because he was always destined to be bad just like his father!!!

Or, ya know, whatever BS that SJM believes in.

It stinks in so many ways: the casual racism, the black-and-white doomer thing, the sheer LAZINESS of the writing.

This is my second time writing this post and while I definitely feel my analysis is better here, I still don't have a good way of ending it. I just kind of think that even if I like the plotline, it's still questionable and was introduced in the stupidest way possible.

#anti sjm #lucien vanserra #sjm critical #whew okay yeah i feel better about this post now #sitting down to actually focus on my thoughts made a huge difference!

102 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 2 years

Note

Firstly, I’m sorry you keep having to clarify the very simple fact that it’s bad etiquette to ask creators that are writing incredible content FOR FREE to post stuff constantly. Secondly, which ACOTAR guy do you think would be the best vibes at IKEA, and which would be the worst? Asking the important questions, nothing but hard hitting journalism here.

Worst to best person to bring to Ikea- as always no one is allowed to get mad/put in the tags I'm wrong. I have never once been wrong because my opinion is objective fact unlike the REST OF YOU.

10. Beron Vanserra- Won't stop in ANY displays. Doesn't even want to BROWSE. Skips the meatballs for the downstairs shopping area. No basket. Won't let you get a fake plant or even TEALIGHTS. Came for one specific thing and thats the ONLY thing. Screams at you if assembly is required.

9. Azriel- Feels like Ikea would stress him out. Always crowded, he does not strike me as a crowd-loving person. Begs not to go, but has to because his strength is require to lift all six boxes for the new bookcase. Does this without complaint. Does not want to eat meatballs, wants to go home.

8. Tamlin- Also hates crowds. Has a truck, so is always being asked to come. Is really good at building things by himself, though, so its worth bringing him. Silently assembles furniture pieces and while does not indulge in the cafeteria, agrees to a frozen bag of meatballs.

7. Eris Vanserra- Just. Not a good attitude at 10am. Way too dressed up for an IKEA. Why is he in dress pants? WHY DID HE BRING A TWO DOOR? WHY IS HE IN DRESS SHOES ERIS OH MY GOD WHAT DID YOU THINK WE WERE DOING TODAY? Have to make a second trip to collect bookcase, but he does pay for lunch.

6. Jurian- Why do all these men hate being around other people? Jurian is like a nervous cat you have to pspspspsp into the parking lot. Does not understand why everything is so spread out. Buys one of the generic pieces of artwork because it's a portrait of his city (SAME JURIAN). Stunned to learn he actually spent $400 when he came in for one $30 chair. Oops.

5. Helion- L O U D L Y judging display books while being told it's not an endorsement. Can somehow speak swedish now???? Telling you what all these words mean with a roll of his eyes. Does NOT order meatballs but the chicken (WHY HELION), and does not like any of the home office displays. Knocks on the bookcases with a "I thought so-these are HARDLY sturdy" okay we get it. Your collection is massive.

4. Rhysand- can't take this man anywhere. Just thinks there are BETTER places for furniture where your home wont look like everyone elses. Does not understand the point is that its affordable. Does like laying on the beds, though, and playing pretend in the 500sq ft displays. Surprised the meatballs are good but SWEARS he knows a better place (UNLIKELY RHYS)

3. Tarquin- Likes crowds, TOO enthusiastic. Stopping in EVERY display to look at prices, to admire the lights, to sit on every couch. Exhausted before you ever reach the kitchen section.

2. Lucien Vanserra- Man with a plan. Energized by all the people, strikes up several flirty conversations in the bedroom section. Purposefully did not eat, walks slow through the upstairs so when its time for meatballs, he has ROOM for all 12. Agrees fake plants are a good idea to make home look cozy without all the effort, though also purchases a real tree based on "look at how fucking cool this is".

Cassian- Ultimate Ikea shopping partner. Man is STRONG. Has a big ass truck. and most importantly, Cassian likes to have FUN slash EAT. This is a DATE. "Would you live here?" "why/why not?" trying out the couches and judging the ugly sinks. Eats his weight in meatballs. Carries all four boxes for the bookshelf on his shoulder, everyone is staring. Builds it cheerfully, helps arrange said books.

#actoar ranking #i dont know why i added beron vanserra but not kallias or thesan #but im not taking him off because i like it being even

134 notes · View notes

born-to-riot · 8 months

Text

AFTER A LONG ASS DROUGHT I HAVE FINALLY BEEN INSPIRED TO WRITE A FIC AGAIN

I don’t have a title yet but y’all we’re dropping acotar characters into the exy universe. Yes we’re talking aftg

Idea: acotar but in aftg world

Now listen if I do this imma need to reread both series and also need to make a note in the beginning explaining that although I love my aftg babies, this story ain’t about them I’m just taking the set up of exy universe (mostly because I wanna make sure this is done right and I need to focus one on group so I can use the setting to make a juicy ass plot)

Like I want this to be Azris and although I love them I don’t think I can pass them off as andreil aka the feral 5’ gremlins. This is why I don’t want to put any of the og foxes on the team because they all have their own unique stories and imma make new backgrounds for the acotar characters.

I’m still debating whether or not I want to include the events of aftg as a prelude or not

and yes coach Wymack will still be there (or I could make it helion but I feel like Wymack is too grumpy for helion-will come back to this later.)

I want to let them still have magic but why the fuck would they be playing exy if they did so rip that.

So there’s a lot I have to work out but I’m going to reread both series, more importantly acotar so I can get some more canon character influences (specifically for Lucien and Eris)

But yeah I’m really really excited and I’m totally feeel like this is the idea that will get me to write again (I’ve been in like a three year rut of writers block) because like I CAN DO SO MUCH and having them play off each other will be so fun.

I would give more details but I don’t want to spoil or get ahead of myself but stay tuned because this is definetly happening

Also come on Morr and Alison Reynolds give the same energy ugh (although personally I love Allison more, sorry not sorry)

And tell me that Tarquin would be a great Jeremy Knox vibe like puppy in human form everyone else is too bitchy

I also need to figure out the Beron debacle because he gives me Riko vibes but he’s old so idk whether I make him a coach or whether I allow fae age but then these guys would be stuck on the same team for years so idk he’ll probs be a coach

Also the team colors we are just going to have to get over lol imagine the night court being stuck in bright ass orange (I’m doing it because this is aftg universe bitch)

But like yeah stay tuned y’all

16 notes · View notes

bookishfeylin · 11 months

Note

I know you’ve already talked about this before but I am still baffled that Bat Bitch lovers hate Tamlin for physically hurting Feyre (rightfully so, nothing excuses this and I also want Tamlin to grovel at Feyre’s feet) in a moment where he unintentionally loses control of his magic and in the same breath excuse the fact that their Lord and Savior physically and intentionally twisted a bone in Feyre’s arm to force her to accept a binding contract and tattoo something (ugly and creepy af imo) onto her against her will. Like??? You all hate and despise Tamlin for an act that Rhysand took to the next level??? For an act Rhysand did purposefully??? Like you guys really said “Tamlin is an abuser, he hurt Feyre, he’s dangerous, he deserves to die and he deserves to have his court taken away from him BUT let’s make fanart of Rhysand sexually abusing Feyre and forget the fact that he twisted her bone and used that moment of her desperation to force a bond onto her.”

And for the love of fuck, Rhysand did not need to twist her bone. He did not need to force a bond onto her. He did not need to tattoo her against her will. If we’re gonna act like “oh you never know what it was like for Rhysand under Amarantha’s control” then I don’t want to hear one fucking person talk about “Tamlin definitely participated in Rhysand’s mother and sister’s death” because we don’t know what it was like for Tamlin to live in that household with a father more abusive and malicious than Beron and who was, coincidentally, working with Amarantha. (It’s like there’s a connection there or something??) At least in Tamlin’s case he was a fucking child. Rhysand’s 500 year old ass couldn’t think of a better way to help Feyre outside of physically harming her, sexually assaulting her and drugging her?? This is your Most Powerful High Lord of Prythian, I know you guys aren’t unaware that he had the exact set of skills needed to help Feyre in the best ways possible. His powers are literal darkness and memory manipulation, but please tell me again how he needed Feyre to consume drugged wine to make her forget what happened. Please tell me he needed to kiss her against her will when he could’ve shielded them with a blanket of darkness and made it look incriminating. Also you guys are the ones who keep bringing up the fact that Rhysand was a victim of sexual assault?? So why the fuck is he doing the same to someone else? To the supposed love of his life?

It lacks maturity to hate something just for the sake of hating it (because that’s what it is when you’re kissing the ground Rhysand walks on and hoping Tamlin dies in the most excruciating ways possible, when they’ve both done terrible things to Feyre). And its even more immature to love a character so maliciously flawed unconditionally. Tamlin stans don’t put him on an untouchable pedestal the way Rhysand stans do to Rhysand. We recognize that what Tamlin did was shitty and half of us don’t even ship him with Feyre after the events of ACOMAF. But god if one of us says one thing about Rhysand being less than perfect its yOuR aN aBuSe ApOlOgIsT. You don’t love Feyre if you think its okay to excuse one of her abusers but not the other.

I’m so sorry this got long and ranty but the way I still see these bullshit arguments in the year of our lord 2023 unabashed and without shame from people who claim to be Feyre stans drives me up a fucking wall

Same hereeeee

Most of the Tamlin stans are calmer, so I feel more comfortable vibing around you guys than the Feysand stans because the excuses for Rhysand's abuse are wild. Thus far I've only seen one Tamlin stan I had to block for being misogynistic towards Feyre and for apologizing for his abuse--which is still wrong, mind you, but not nearly the number of Incogonito Rhysan-- er, I meant Feyre--stans I've had to block for the same behavior. You'd think ACOSF would've been an awakening to Rhysand's abuse for these people, but it wasn't. He was ~retconned~ according to them, and it's funny that they're accusing Sarah of retconning a love interest's behavior when they once would die before admitting she does that lol

#ask #anon #anti feysand

23 notes · View notes

lorcandidlucienwill · 1 month

Note

omg you're back!!! i missed anoning you about misc. grievances about these stupid books now, I've been a Beron hater since day 1, but you cannot tell me he didn't lowkey eat during the high lord's meeting in acowar. also lowkey, why does helion do nothing? like i'm not trying to be dismissive or anything, but like in the books i'm not seeing anything at that same high lord's meeting: rhysand: i know i was actually the worst and allied myself with the enemy for all of their reign and did atrocities but its not the real me, promise!! </3

somehow everyone except tamlin and probably beron: wow we believe you and we trust,, we don't even care that your court in this meeting has started 2 physical fights and that you literally said it would be easier to just go into our heads and force us to do what you want

tamlin: okay, i know i kind of messed up on the hybern thing, but i literally was trying every way to fight for her after someone kidnapped her and after the fact i was going to figure out how to break the alliance. I was with hybern for all of like 5 minutes and also here's all of their attack plans and everything you would need to take these guys down.

everyone: EWWW Boooooo we don't like youuu go home!! we aren't discussing shit with you here tamlin: i actively have a better track record in terms of all of this stuff and overall just being a stand-up guy for someone who didn't even want the job in the first place everyone: you suckkkk we're taking the word of the guy we hated up until literally today over you L bozo (or that's just my interpretation, also just realized Dawn is supposed to be East-Asia inspired, or at least the people are... I see actually none of that, dawn had like one koi pond and that's it, where's the architecture, the fashion, the idk... everything)

And I hate Beron too, but why did SJM write him being soooo right?

It’s fucking hilarious that SJM wrote the High Lord’s meeting fully expecting us to take Rhysand and Feyre’s side when Tamlin and Beron came in serving cunt and FACTS!!! Like yeah, they were bitches, but where did they lie???? As for all the other High Lords siding with Rhysand:

Logically: SJM just wanted us to side with Rhysand and make him out to be the good guy because look! Everyone agrees with him!

Fun Headcanon: The Prythian High Lords never liked Tamlin’s progressiveness and therefore rejoiced at his downfall, even if it did come at the hands of Rhysand.

Is Dawn supposed to be East Asian? Wouldn’t know since SJM worldbuilds like a 12 year old girl on Wattpad…

#tamlin #pro tamlin #beron vanserra #anti rhysand #anti ic #sjm critical #anon asks

35 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

sheabutterrosesandeucalyptuspls

Minimalist and classic feminine style inspo

eeecaf

what no stop

ponta-no-sake

♪ your song will fill the air ♪

ask-the-eto-rangers-2

We're the Twelve Warriors! We'll blow you away!

jenggorongak

Untitled