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snz-eriya · 2 months
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A Strange Feeling (D/an H/eng snzfic, H/S/R, ft. C/aelus)
me: man I think I have writer's block again
also me: *writes nearly 2k words of horn*
anyway this is a valentine's post for @mochindayo !!!!!!! ur art is so good I wanna eat it and u deserve to have the best day ever every day!!! I hope you enjoy this fic I give as tribute to your amazingness :')
Caelus pressed on the button to open his door, wearily. It wasn’t like time was very clear if one were to look out the window, given that they were in space. Time itself was a little vague on the Astral Express. Nevertheless, he had been attempting to sleep for what felt like five years. Though to his exaggeratory mind, it was probably more like a few hours. But for some reason, his mind was running wild. No thought was consistent, only one random idea after another that captivated his attention and kept rest just out of arm’s reach. Eventually he got tired of trying, and decided to walk around the ship in hopes to tire out his body.
Or his mind, hopefully. Though it never really did seem to quiet down.
He walked past March’s room, and then Dan Heng’s. Just before he was about to turn the corner, he paused. He stepped backwards until he was in front of Dan Heng’s room again. Then back a few more steps to March’s. Then back to Dan Heng’s. 
He likely would have seemed to be a lunatic in someone else’s eyes. But there was a strange feeling that he got when he walked past specifically Dan Heng’s room. An indescribable feeling. An emotion? Something that made him uneasy. Whatever it was, it made him pause. He reached a hand out, to test if the door was unlocked. It probably would be. Dan Heng’s ‘room’ was the archive, after all. And as private as he was, he didn’t really mind if someone came in without permission as long as it was for a good reason. Was feeling weird a good reason? Probably not, but who knows? Maybe Dan Heng was dying, or attacked, or something. Probably not. Unless Dan Heng refused to be loud even when dying.
Opening up the door, Caelus was relieved to see that Dan Heng was not dying. Though he expected the other to at least be asleep or something at this time(?) of night(?). But no, his fellow Nameless was up and about, at the archives, sorting through various documents and books they had collected over their journeys. Which, that was good, it wasn’t like Caelus could be bothered to remember every detail of all those wordy papers (he could barely stand to read a few sentences without getting bored) but when everyone else had already gone to bed? He could have done it earlier and avoided spending time with everyone.
Caelus had a feeling just standing there and not saying anything for an extended period of time would not give him any avoidance for creepiness, so he decided to speak up.
“Dan Heng?”
The other jumped, as if surprised by his presence. Kind of strange. The doors weren’t exactly quiet. Not a big deal though. Maybe he was just focused.
“Caelus…” Dan Heng muttered, relaxing. Maybe he was expecting an enemy too. Or for Caelus to be dying instead. In any case, he turned back to his work. “Is there something you need?”
Caelus stood for a moment. Not really. For the weird feeling to go away? But how was he supposed to describe that? “Uh… no,” he eventually replied. Dan Heng looked back at him, an eyebrow raised at his answer.
Silence stretched between them once again.
Caelus really had to stop chasing every feeling that interested him.
“Uh… so… still working? Y’know everyone else is asleep,” he finally spoke up again, the awkward energy starting to get to him.
“I could say the same to you,” Dan Heng responded coolly. It seemed like he dropped trying to figure out what Caelus was doing there, and instead turned back to the archives once more.
Caelus still felt weird. So, ignoring his own note-to-self, he approached to stare at Dan Heng’s work over his shoulder. To be honest, his eyes were so tired that the words sort of jumbled together into an incoherent mess. It was more so just to get his crew mate’s attention.
And get his attention it did. Dan Heng glanced over, turning to face Caelus again. “If you don’t need anything, why are you still here? You should be sleeping.”
“Y’know I could just… say the same thing to you, right?” Caelus replied, trying to keep an exhaustedly smug grin off his face. “You’re archiving this late? I didn’t know there was still stuff left to archive.”
“There’s always things left. Please leave me be. I have work to do,” Dan Heng requested again. Though, like he had the mind of a child, it was like being told to stop doing something just made the trailblazer want to do it more. 
“I can help, if you want. I’m sure I can handle the, uh…” He picked up a random book, squinting at its title. “Underground Encyclopedia of Plants and Fungle.”
“Fungi. You’re not a child. You know how to read,” Dan Heng sighed in exasperation. Putting a hand to his head like the interaction was giving him a headache. 
“Meh, close enough. C’mon, it’ll get done faster if we do it together.”
“It’s fine.”
“Look, I know you like it all to be perfect, but there’s gotta be some kind of autocorrect in this thing, right?”
“Please, Caelus, just leave me be.” 
Dan Heng sounded desperate, which was strange. Typically Dan Heng would act annoyed but compliant, even more so when it came to March than him. But looking in the Nameless’ glassy eyes, it seemed like he was a few seconds away from begging.
Wait, glassy eyes? Oh, fuck. Was he actually dying? Was that his dying wish? His last words?
Caelus opened his mouth to apologize for making Dan Heng’s last moments so painful, when–
“heh’GKshu!” Dan Heng quickly turned away as soon as the sneeze rang through him. And suddenly Caelus realized that he wasn’t dying. In the traditional sense, anyway.
“Oh,” he said.
“What?” Dan Heng replied, turning back like nothing had happened at all.
“Uh, you’re sick?” Caelus stated, because it was obvious. After the evidence, anyway.
“I’m not,” Dan Heng immediately denied, turning his head away with arms crossed.
“Uh-huh.” Caelus’ eyes lidded disbelievingly, he had a small smirk on his face. “So why’re you still working, huh? To convince us that you’re not sick? Or to convince yourself? Because, just saying, I never would have seen you if I wasn’t already worried you were dying.”
Dan Heng scoffed. “Well, I’m definitely not dying.”
“You are sick, though.”
“heH’GXkshu!” 
Dan Heng faced Caelus again after turning away to sneeze, about to protest for a second time. Caelus managed to shut it down before it started again.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re not sick, and the whole sneezing is just… a coincidence?” He waved his hand absently.
Dan Heng didn’t reply that time. His arguments had been effectively dismantled, and Caelus wasn’t stupid, just nonsensical most of the time.
He sighed, resting his head on an open palm, kept upright by the table. Caelus waited for a moment to see if anything more would be said, but he was met with silence. He took it as permission to carry out his plan.
He reached over and placed the back of his hand onto Dan Heng’s cheek, only to be met with his disapproving stare. “Wrong spot,” he muttered.
“Oh. Right,” Caelus recalled, moving his touch to the man’s forehead instead. He was met with a dry, hot temperature, something that he assumed was probably not good. 
He pulled back, hands on his hips. “Yeah, in my very professional opinion, you should be in bed. Not at a desk.”
“But–”
“Nuh-uh, doctor’s orders, unless you want me to get a literal doctor in here.”
“Caelus–”
“I will call Natasha!” Caelus pulled out his phone, just to make his point entirely clear.
That seemed to shake the last of Dan Heng’s resolve. His shoulders lowered like he had given up all remaining fight. “Fine.”
Caelus smiled, pleased with his victory. “Good. Now, c’mon.” He took Dan Heng’s hand and started dragging him up without another thought.
“Wh- huh? My bed’s right there,” Dan Heng looked down at his blanket and pillow cluelessly, then back up and Caelus as he continued to be pulled away.
“Yeah, that’s not really a sickbed. Or a bed. Or anything other than a poor man’s attempt,” the trailblazer replied. “You need a real bed. A Trailblazer-patented bed, at that.”
Dan Heng sighed. “You’re ridiculous. There’s no changing your mind, is there?”
“The only person on this ship more stubborn than you is me.”
That was fairly accurate.
As soon as they had left Dan Heng’s room, its owner soon crumpled down into another sneeze.
“heH’IGHkshu! hih’GXKshih! hh- heh… hih-”
“Stuck?” Caelus wondered, glancing back at his companion. His expression was pained, one eye closed and the other watering. He panted, desperately waiting for the urge to take over once again, but it remained out of reach.
“Here,” the trailblazer spoke, opening the door to his room as the lights flickered on all at once. He dragged Dan Heng along with him. The result was immediate.
“hEH’KGhshu! heH’GKshih! heH- hIH’XGkhuh! huh…”
Dan Heng sighed in relief as the fit finally came to an end. He looked about fifteen shades brighter red, though whether that was from the fever or the embarrassment was anyone’s guess. Caelus, for all the satisfaction being helpful gave him, wasn’t exactly willing to let Dan Heng suffer for his weak fulfillment. 
“Now, to bed with you.” He wrapped an arm around Dan Heng’s shoulders, practically carrying him the rest of the way to bed.
The other man had enough energy to cooperate by the time he was being lied down, allowing Caelus to tuck him in like a child despite his protests. He had to admit that it was comfier than his own room.
Caelus let out a breath, like he was exhausted from a workout. “Okay. Now, sleep.”
Dan Heng raised an eyebrow at him. “I can’t do that on command.”
“I’m pretty sure you can. You almost passed out as soon as we got in here.”
Had he? He must have been more tired than he thought.
“And where will you be sleeping? Sharing a bed with me wouldn’t be smart if I’m ill.”
“Yeah, ‘if,’” Caelus rolled his eyes. Then, he pointed his thumb down towards the ground. “The floor.”
Dan Heng stared for a moment. “...The floor.”
Caelus glanced to the side, then back to his companion. “...Why are you surprised? You do it.”
That couldn’t really be argued. For some reason it just felt inhumane when it came to his friend rather than him. Though that was something he could unpack another day.
“Try not to worry about it, Dan Heng. Maybe worry about yourself, for once. The rest of us are fine.” Caelus gave him a real, genuine and caring smile, before walking off towards what was probably a closet.
It was a bit hard to tell, his vision was starting to fade away, and unconsciousness was pulling at him. It was a little embarrassing to admit how relaxed he felt, in his friend’s room rather than his own.
But it gave him a feeling of safety.
And Caelus’ feeling had gone away too, he realized as he glanced back at Dan Heng’s sleeping form. He still didn’t quite have a name for it. Maybe… a feeling that something was wrong. But not just wrong in general. Something that was wrong with someone he cared about. And that was a feeling he wanted to hold onto.
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noctuaas · 1 year
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mid-afternoon delights + nagi seishiro
cw; nsfw, oral (f!receiving), fem reader
wc; 312
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nagi seishiro is the laziest motherfucker known to existence.
sometimes he simply doesn’t have the energy to take care of himself and you. so sometimes, he’ll slither over to you while your sprawled out on the bed playing on the switch, and ask:
“baby, can i please use you? i promise i won’t bother you, just keep playing your game.”
all nagi wants is to lie with his face buried in your pussy.
it’s really not a big ask. he wouldn’t be bothering you anyway, so of course you’ll oblige. of course you’ll slide your shorts off for him and lay back so he can flatten himself out the mattress with his head between your thighs.
nagi can’t even be bothered to hold his head up properly. his cheek rests on your thigh as he languidly makes out with your pussy, mouth and chin covered in your sticky slick.
as hard as it might be to believe, he was rutting his hips into the mattress at an even more lethargic pace than he was roving his tongue up and down your cunt. you could barely even tell he was doing it. not until 30 minutes in when nagi humped the mattress once, twice, three times and caught his aching cock just right, blowing his load straight into his shorts. he groaned so loud, so deliciously, that you had to finally glance down at him, and what a sight it was.
he's trembling ever so slightly, chest heaving and still coming down from his long, drawn out orgasm. he’s got this delirious smile plastered across his face, cheeks and chin covered in your sticky essence that’s glistening under the light. it smears across your skin when he crawls up and collapses on your stomach, too tired to move any further despite not having moved an inch the whole time.
“feel better?”
“mmm, much.”
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Imagine falling asleep to Black Sabbath’s Solitude while cuddling Eddie and falling asleep together, a storm raging outside but the both of you so, so peaceful in his bedroom. Nothing else exists except the two of you. Eddie’s leg tucked tightly between both of yours, his fingers on the back of your head, his other hand across your waist, fingers spidered to touch as much of you at the same time as he can, his plush lips against your head, whispering the lyrics. You smile, close your eyes and lean into Eddie, and you both find yourself thinking that your solitude is as peaceful as spending time together. It’s real and true, the bond you’ve cultivated between you, and neither of you are ever going to let go of the other.
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pained-expression · 5 days
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Lark and sparrow smoking bit omg omg
“You never let me finish my own smoke either.” Lark grumbled.
Sparrow smiled and blew the smoke into his brother's face, “Only because you toss the ends onto the ground.” He smirked and stared up at the empty black sky with a shrug, “Maybe if you finally switched to biodegradables I’d let you have them all to yourself.”
Lark smiled despite himself, “I’d rather share the lung disease.” He leaned back into Sparrow, so that they rocked left to right. “Aaaand I love ruining your vegan streak.”
“Fuck off.” Sparrow said, “Cigarettes aren’t vegan?” He asked incredulously, cigarette gripped between his knuckles as he gestured. Lark couldn’t help but laugh.
“Tobacco companies test on animals dude.” Lark said, grabbing his smoke back and taking a victorious inhale.
“Fuck.”
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eriexplosion · 8 months
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Rating: Explicit Relationship: Crosshair/Echo Words: 6,708 Summary: A new mission brings Clone Force 99 to a planet with very particular customs. Forced to blend with the locals, two of them find out that they may fit in better than they thought.
And the second of the BDSM exchange fics!
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eri-cheri · 2 years
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Hello all! I’m really proud of this piece! I think it’s one of my best written Bakudeku fics! Please give it a read if you can!
Summary:
Warrior Prince Bakugou Katsuki traveled to the ends of the earth protecting the lands with his band of four husbands. In order to impress the legendary King All Might and become his right hand guard, Katsuki chose his husbands carefully:
A Prince, a Noble, a Knight, and his lowly childhood friend who came from nothing.
But when the time finally arrived, and the Warrior was invited to vie for his seat by the King, Katsuki learns his lowly husband who supposedly came from nothing actually had the whole world at his fingertips.
Faced with the true nature of his character, Katsuki does everything he can to prove his love for Izuku is true. Can he ever forgive him and find their happily ever after?
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leave-her-a-tome · 8 months
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saintmouthed · 11 months
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me staring at my original fiction lately: bro where's the joie de vivre? where's the gaiety? the fucking DELIGHT?
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yearning-for-autumn · 2 months
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So, here is my humble request 👀:
Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.
When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.
Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.
So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.
I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻
Would That I -- Part 1
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A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!
Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader
Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health
Word Count: 3,638
Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.
Part 2 Part 3
Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.
“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.
“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”
Rhysand cleared his throat.
“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.
“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”
His brow furrowed.
“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.
“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.
You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.
You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.
---
In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.
You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.
He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.
“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.
“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.
---
As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.
Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.
He loosed a breath.
“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.
“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.
“Yes.”
“Is Cass--?”
“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.
“Ok.”
Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.
“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”
You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.
“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”
You scoff.
“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”
Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.
“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”
Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.
“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.
Rhysand sighed.
“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”
---
It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.
You sat up worried.
“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”
“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”
You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.
“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.
You snuggled up to your eldest brother.
“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”
Azriel tucked you under his arm.
“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.
---
Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.
He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.
Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.
“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.
“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”
Eris rolled his eyes.
“Just show me your plans, Ash.”
“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.
“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.
In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.
He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.
It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.
When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.
Asher sighed,
“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.
“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.
“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”
“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.
“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”
“She is my mate.” Eris growled.
“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.
“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.
“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”
Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.
He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.
---
The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.
Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.
Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.
Disgust.
What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.
Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.
Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.
Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.
“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”
You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.
“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”
You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.
“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.
A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.
Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.
Would that you could be half as lucky.
Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.
---
There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.
“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.
“Eris will be there.” You said.
“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.
“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”
And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.
Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.
In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.
Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—
“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.
“What’s the magic word.”
“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.
A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...
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hauntedwitch04 · 7 months
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KINKTOBER
Hi! Here is my kinktober masterlist, it's my first time trying to do this trend, so I hope you like my writing. I'll later post a question for you all to anwer, to see who you want the last one about. Hope you like it. I'll try my best <;33
Requests are open I Ask
My masterlist
Join the Taglist
Buy me a coffee - Patreon submission
SPECIAL KINKTOBER TAGLIST
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Hate sex with Regulus Black 
Dirty talk with Dean Winchester 
Sex pollen  with Azriel  
Daddy kink with Steve Harrington 
Body worship with Rhysand 
 Size kink with Sam Winchester 
 Orgasm denial with James Potter 
 Public sex with Nyx Acheron
 Somnophilia with Regulus Black 
 Thigh-riding with Cassian
 Breeding with Remus Lupin 
 Tit-fucking with Dean Winchester  
 Caught masturbation with Steve Harrington 
 Innocent with Remus Lupin
 Brat taming with Eris Vanserra 
 Toys with Sirius Black 
 Mommy kink with Nesta Acheron 
 Lingerie with  Rhysand 
Overstimulation with James Potter 
Face sitting with Sam Winchester 
Praise kink with Sirius Black 
Corruption with Priest!Sam Winchester 
Shadow play with Azriel 
Spanking with Remus Lupin 
Car sex with Dean Winchester 
Threesome with Nesta Acheron and Cassian 
Omegaverse with Dean Winchester
Cockwarming with Eris Vanserra
Phone sex with Sam Winchester 
Bondage with Azriel 
Roleplay with REGULUS BLACK (chosen by you)
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nocasdatsgay · 2 months
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I really want the hidden romance of Eris Vanserra.
I want his mate to walk the same halls, be in the same rooms, arms length with zero interaction to the naked eye. I want stolen moments: light touches, casual brush of fabric from their clothes as they pass by each other.
I want him to pull his mate into a dark corner at a party. Kiss them so hard they both see stars before they slip back out again. I want late night walks with a guard who’s a friend keeping his secret.
I want their first time together to be filled with tears and hushed promises. Promises this won’t be the only time. Promises that they’ll be together without the worry. I want him memorizing every inch of their skin. I want him fighting with himself about leaving when it’s over.
I want him making deals left and right to keep them safe. I want him killing those who find out and dare to blackmail him. Or him blackmailing them back.
I want them to be the first one he goes to when his father is dead and he’s high lord. Eris doesn’t care that a crowd is around. He doesn’t care that he’s covered in blood. All he cares about is right in front of him and he can finally kiss them wherever he likes.
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snz-eriya · 1 year
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Lotus Trouble (s/cara snzfic, oneshot)
this!! was not as long as I hoped it would be, but here we are :’) this is for the lovely @snzzone for the g/enshin snz server’s annual snalentines! I hope you like this goofy little thing I wrote up for you! ;w;
Scara was annoyed. Incredibly annoyed.
Why the famed God of Wisdom, the Great Dendro Archon couldn’t just get her own herbs was beyond him… but he owed her, so there he was, searching out in the wild like some kind of servant. There by choice, but he was allowed to complain as much as he wanted to.
He didn’t even know why Nahida needed herbs in the first place, too preoccupied with his internalized anger to bother listening to her unnecessary explanations. 
He got the general gist of it, though. Find Kalpalata Lotuses, they’ll be all over the cliff sides pretty much anywhere in Sumeru, as long as he didn’t stay into the desert. It was a little vague instruction-wise, but that meant he was able to wander around a bit, without being restricted at all. He’d been restricted enough in his lifetime.
…Perhaps Nahida was aware of that.
Whatever. Like it mattered to him.
He recognized the area he was in as somewhere nearby Vimara Village, seeing the beginnings of a dock in the distance. He decided he would rather not interact with people if he didn’t need to, and looked up to the cliffs at his side.
As expected, there was a good amount of Kalpalata Lotuses growing from between the subtle cracks in the rock. At least it wouldn’t take him forever.
He wandered over to the stone wall, tipping his head back far enough that his hat was at risk of falling off. He reached up a hand to keep it secure, then allowed the winds to begin carrying him upwards.
He continued ascending until he had reached a patch of lotuses, and remained hovering there while he carefully picked them from their stonebound roots.
Or, picked one. Because the first one he plucked caused his hand to yank back a bit with the effort, and a puff of golden dust to cloud around his head.
“Wh- what the fuck?” He wondered aloud, waving his other hand to try and dispel the powder from his sight. It didn’t do much to help, uselessly small as his hand was. “Fucking annoyi- hih…”
What the fuck? He wondered internally, this time. What was this… strange sensation in his nose? Why did it feel like it was burning? And why… was his chest… sh- shaking…
On instinct, he pinched his nostrils shut tight, hoping that would stop the burning, tickly feeling from spreading even further.
“ih’GNtch!”
Unfortunately, he let out a strangled noise instead. His head pounded painfully afterwards, like a hammer was being knocked around in his skull. The worst part, though, was that the tickle didn’t dissipate. If nothing else, it only worsened.
“Wh- huh… what’s going o- hh- on…?” He asked, though no one was around to answer him. His chest was spasming again, expanding until his eyes fell shut, brimming with tears. He tried to fight against the urge, holding his nose with a free hand once more, to see if it would somehow produce a different result.
“Hih… hh- huh… ngh- hhih!”
No dice. His breath kept trembling, shaking his small form until–
“IH’gnXT! heh- eH’GNcht! hIH’KGnt!”
His head hit the cliffside as he doubled over with effort behind the suppression, knocking him off balance from where he carefully floated in the air. He recognized the feeling of falling backwards, lotuses still in hand, before he used his vision to gently set himself onto the ground. Instead of, y’know, dying.
He opened his eyes, blearily as though he’d been asleep for a hundred years. He stared down at the lotuses he still held, miraculously managing to not drop them with that whole… fiasco. 
Well, whatever. He got the stupid lotuses. Now just to bring them back to Nahida.
—---------------
“Thank you, Scara,” Nahida told him with a kind smile, examining the lotuses with a watchful eye.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, unable to make his tone as harsh as he wanted it to be. “I’m just doing my job as the God of Wisdom’s assistant.”
“And you’re appreciated for it.” Nahida stood up, the flowers held tightly in her arms as she looked back up at Scara. “Especially since you seem to react so poorly to them.”
Scara’s eyes lidded. “Come again?”
“You’re allergic, aren’t you?”
He scoffed. “No, of course not.”
Nahida’s eyes angled a bit, obviously in disbelief. Without another word, she took a single step closer, the lotuses outstretched towards him.
Scara took a step back on instinct, a hand raising up to his face to stop that strange sensation from earlier. “What are you- yo- hah…!”
Nahida smiled again. “You can’t hide these things from the God of Wisdom.”
If his eyes were still open, he would have been glaring daggers. Unfortunately, the itch had become so unbearable that he couldn’t even force his eyes open anymore. His chest trembled, breath hitching until the inevitable release–
“heh’IKGh! KN’ghu! heh- hh- hEH’KGhshu!”
The last one refused to be suppressed, even with his nose shut tightly in his hands. As the tickle abated for a minute, he took the opportunity to properly glare at Nahida. “Fine… I’m allergic. Happy now?”
Nahida shook her head, a disgusting amount of sympathy in her eyes that made him want to punch a wall. “I wouldn’t say that. But I would be happy if you took some time to rest up?” She offered, making the lotuses vanish from her hands, effectively taking the allergen away from him.
Scara scowled, wanting to argue in some way… but he felt like shit. Those small little buds did a number on him, for some reason. “...Fine, if you insist,” he agreed, but made sure he sounded as grumpy as possible while doing so.
The archon smiled back at him. “Good. I hope you rest well.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Scara absently replied, already turning around to return to his quarters. He heard Nahida giggling a bit behind him, and though he hated the idea of his plight amusing her… it wasn’t like he could stay mad for long.
He doubted she would, but if she happened to forget for some reason… he supposed he wouldn’t mind going out of his way to get more. Maybe.
Even if it made him suffer a bit.
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I wanna talk to Eddie. Just for five minutes. About anything. About D&D and his favourite thing about planning campaigns. About what he ate for breakfast this morning or if he skipped and would he like one of my snacks? About the first song he listened to this morning and the last one he remembers before he fell asleep. About how he's feeling. About why he's feeling. About his tattoo designs and which one is his favourite and why. About why he has his beautiful hair that way. About how he can be so full of love and hope and acceptance even with and after everything he's gone through. About how he's a shining beacon for so many people and how he managed to become the person for others that he himself always needed. About his favourite songs and what lyrics make his eyes close of their own accord and which guitar riffs make his heart feel like it's bleeding.
I want to know Eddie Munson inside out, back to front and all the other ways.
I want to sit on his lap, cup his face in my hands and smother him in kissies until he's giggling and holding my wrists, choking out a, "what the fuck?" or a "jesus h christ" because he doesn't know how else to react. I want to hold him so tightly that he swears he can feel himself clicking back into place, coming home, for the duration of that embrace, and for the ghost of my touch to accompany him through the hours we're apart.
I'm gonna cry. I just want five minutes with him. Just five.
I'd die for the privilege.
But more than all of this, I want to make sure that he knows he's so, so loved, by so many and for so much.
He deserves that at LEAST.
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pained-expression · 17 days
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Teen Sparrow and Henry Angst. Sparrow is tired of Henry treating him like Lark's keeper.
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eriexplosion · 4 months
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Rating: Teen
Relationship: Crosshair/Hunter
Words: 3583
Summary: Things would be better after they all got their turn to sleep the rough mission off. His shoulder would heal, Tech’s temper would stop flaring, Wrecker wouldn’t jump so much at every little thing, and Crosshair…
Crosshair was more complicated. Hunter didn’t let himself think about it. He wouldn’t get to sleep if he did.
Exchange fic from a few weeks back that I realized I never posted here - just some emotionally constipated boys flailing at each other, as you do.
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writeroutoftime · 27 days
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precious secret
pairing: eris vanserra x fem!reader
summary: eris has kept you - his mate - a secret for years, not wanting any harm to come to you. but when his hands are tied, he must turn to an unlikely ally to offer you protection
warnings: minor mentions of violence against reader (split lip, not graphic description), beron - enough said
words: 1.5k
a/n: alright, I am in love with eris - at least the fanon version of him lol. and I'm such a sucker for stories where he tries to protect his mate from his father, so I humbly offer this as my submission. please enjoy and it'd be great if you let me know what you think! have a great day everyone!
oOoOo
A sense of fear palpated through Eris' heart with every purposeful stride his took down the halls of Forest House. His palms were sweaty, and his skin felt flushed, a stark contrast to the cool and collected exterior he normally presented.
The moment his trusted guard had let him know of your situation, his mind could think only of the worst possible scenarios. The worst images his mind could mangle before his eyes flooded his senses, and he knew the only remedy would be to see, hear, and touch you.
Upon reaching your room, he slammed open the door and immediately rushed to your side. His hands automatically reached to cup your cheeks, eyes frantically scanning for blood, bruises, anything that could cause you pain. It didn't take long for his eyes to zero in on the blood that ran along your lips.
Hands shaking, Eris reached out to gently wipe the blood away with his thumb. Your instinctive flinch caused a pain to wash over his body. He never wanted to be the cause of your pain. You sent a wave of reassurance down the golden bond, but it did little to assure him.
"It's worse than it looks." you tried, grasping his wrist, holding his palm against your cheek.
Eris growled, eyes hardening as though his mind had not registered your words. "What happened?
There was a moment of hesitation from your side, but with a soft sigh you let your mate in the morning's events. "Word got out to Beron that there had been sightings of us together. He let me off with a warning for lesser fae such as myself to stay away from the likes of you."
"This can't go on." he spoke, scoffing at his father's words.
Now it was your turn to panic. "W-what do you mean?" 
"It's not safe for you to stay here any longer." he clarified, gaze softening ever so slightly.
"I'm not leaving you." you demanded, holding your ground.
"Love, we thought we were being careful and look what happened. What am I to do if this becomes a regular occurrence. It will ease my mind to know you are safe and out of harm's way." 
"Away from you." you argued, nuzzling your head into his neck as you tried to stop the tears that burned against your eyes. 
"Just for a little while." he promised. "Just until I know it's safe to bring you back." softly pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 
"I don't know where I shall go." you admitted. 
It pained you to think of leaving the Autumn Court - your home. Yes, Beron was a horrible, cruel ruler, but there was still so much good to be found outside of his clutches. The breathtaking scenery, your family, and, of course, all the beautiful moments you and your mate created together. If you left would you ever see any of it again?
"I'll take care of it." Eris said, drifting off into silence as he savored the last night he had to hold you for the time being.
oOoOo
Eris strolled through the halls of River House, trademark smirk upon his features as he came into view of his reluctant allies. Rhysand and Feyre draped themselves across two chairs at their grand table, looking warily at the heir to the Autumn Court. 
"High Lord, High Lady, a pleasure as always." Eris greeted, bowing slightly to the rulers of the Night Court. Though, it didn't escape his notice the close eye that the rest of the Inner Circle kept on him.
"Eris," Rhysand acknowledged, trying to be diplomatic. "to what do we owe this unexpected visit?" 
There was a long pause in which Eris took a deep breath and pushed aside the snarky comments, the masked facade, and allowed the Night Court to see him in his true form. "I am here to ask you to provide sanctuary for a member of the Autumn Court." he spoke, choosing his words carefully. 
Feyre cocked her head to the side, as if trying to decipher a hidden cipher in Eris' words. "And why do you presume we have any obligation to help someone associated with you?"
Eris' palms burned with a heat that threatened to burst free and wreak havoc. A reaction that had become more common after solidifying the mating bond with you all those years ago. But he tamped down said flames, knowing anger wouldn't get him anywhere. So, the red-headed swallowed his pride and tried another approach.
"I know I have no room to ask such a request, but please." Eris pled, bending to bow before the Night Court on one knee. "If not for my sake, then do it for the sake of - of my mate. For the innocent female who has had the misfortune of falling in love with me." he confessed, revealing his most precious card.
All eyes of the Inner Circle widened in surprise, and Feyre couldn't contain her gasp at Eris' words. None of them had ever had any inkling there was someone tied to Eris in that way, but from the shake in his voice, to the bowing of his head, they knew he spoke only the truth. 
"I still need time to take control of Autumn from my father, and it is no longer safe for her there." he continued. "But once I am High Lord, she will be able to return to me. Until then, this is the safest place I know of for her. Name your price, and I swear it will be done." 
Rhys and Feyre shared a look, silently conversing. Even the powerful High Lord was taken aback by the confession and felt a small pang in his own heart. His mind shifted to Feyre and the lengths he had gone to protect and everything he would continue to do if necessary -what he would do, what he would promise, what he would give up. All just to know she was safe, regardless of his own well-being. He saw those same feelings reflected in Eris' eyes. No longer was he an arrogant heir before them, but a male in love and desperate. 
"That is a bold offer to make." Rhys spoke, his voice commanding always one with a flair for dramatics. He saw the way Eris flinched in worry, so he quickly put the male out of his misery. "But we accept."
The relief Eris felt washed over him instantaneously, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Thank you." he whispered, so overcome with emotion, he didn't know how else to emote his gratitude. "I am at your disposal to the best of my ability when you call in your favor" he spoke, standing up. 
The thought of Rhysand now having a favor to dangle over his head sent a small chill down his spine. But he would offer a thousand favors to the male if it would guarantee your safety. It should have scared him, but Eris knew that wasn't anything in this world (or the next) he wouldn't do to keep you protected. 
"No favor necessary." Feyre spoke gently, after sparing a quick glance in Rhys' direction. "We know the sanctity of the mating bond, and we will do our best to keep your mate safe." she vowed, seeing a new light to the male before her.
With another round of thanks, Eris bowed his head a final time before winnowing away and back to spend one last night with you.
oOoOo
The next day, under the cover of night, Eris stood with you in his arms, at the entrance to Velaris. Tears pulled in both of your eyes as your foreheads rest against each other's. Feelings of both love and despair were shot down the bond, leaving you feeling breathless.
"Please, we can figure this out." you tried one last time, not caring if the tears on your cheeks belonged to you and Eris. We don't have to separate."
"Trust me," Eris whispered, knowing that Rhys and Feyre stood only a few feet away. "I would wish for nothing more than to be selfish and keep you by your side. But this is the only way I can ensure your safe."
"What about you?"
Eris pulled back slightly to take in your form, sighing softly at your stubbornness. He gently cupped your cheek, pressing soft kisses to your skin. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, and we'll be back together before you know it, alright?" he asked, content with your reluctant nod.
One last time, Eris leaned in and captured your lips with his. You gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling your mate as close to your chest as was possible. The kiss was soft, but desperate and full of languish. Though you both wished the moment could last forever, you eventually pulled away, whispering words of love to each other.
"Until we see each other again, love." Eris vowed, watching your figure retreat into the safety of Velaris until you he could see you no more.
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