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acourtofmenandthirst · 2 years

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A New Male (Part I of II)

Rhysand’s Sister!Reader x Eris

So this is as canon as possible, but I already blurred the Rhys’s sister & mother and Mor storyline - so just go with it! This takes place pre-Feyre, so just some Night Court family drama :) I know I’ve been absent, it’s been hard to find time to write, but I wanted to share the first half of what I have so far!

Thank you to the anon(s) who requested this, I really like the storyline, it’s just been taking me a long time to put together and I had a long plot, so need a part two (was just too excited to make anyone wait any longer!) & thank you to my sister for getting me to sit down and write it lol

Part II Here

Warnings: None, mother’s death, controlling family (what else is new for both of these families)

Word Count: 5.6K

“Be careful, (Y/N),” your mother yelled as you flung open the balcony doors. “Don’t leave the court and be back before sunset - ”

“I will!” You call back, not even turning back down the hall to where she stood in the kitchen doorway, drying a copper pot. She rolled her eyes, unable to hide the small smile playing on her lips as you leapt off the balcony with a dive, holding your arms straight in front of you as you twisted through the air. The rocks slid past, blurring in your vision, before you threw your wings out, catching yourself halfway down the fall.

The wind captured you, letting you sail over the racing river and coast amongst the clouds. The wind bit at you, and you almost cursed yourself for not grabbing a jacket before you left. But you let the cool air swirl through your hair and dance across your rosy cheeks, swallowing in the fresh air after you let out a long breath.

Freedom - the rush of the air, the vapors dancing over the whirling river, the dark pine trees littering the bank. It had been too long since you’d flown over the city of Velaris. The citizens below you were none the wiser, staring up at you from so far below that they thought you were merely a bird.

Your brother often berated you for flying so high, so far from home.

“You’re not High Lord, Rhysand,” you grumbled, pushing past him as he followed you inside from the terrace. “Stop acting like father.”

Rhys rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his black hair. The insult hurt him more than he thought it should. “I’m not acting like father - I’m just worried about your safety.” He winnowed two steps in front of you, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom, arms crossed over his chest. His own wings were drawn out, flayed in the arch. “Besides, I will be High Lord someday, so you better start listening to me now.”

You huffed a breath but offered your older brother a smile. “You don’t know that - maybe the powers will call to me,” you offered simply, propping your hands on your hips. “The first female High Lord?”

Rhys laughed, barking out a chase breath. “I would entertain the idea if I didn’t already know how much stronger I am than you.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, scoffing at your annoying brother as you pushed past him into the hallway.

You smiled at the memory, heart clenching a bit as you thought of him, away in the Illyrian mountains. He’d been gone with your father, tending to whatever court duties your father felt was too dirty to bother you with. As his daughter, you weren’t allowed in the war camps, couldn’t visit your mother’s family or train with the young males. You barely knew Rhysand’s friends - those he considered his brothers - as you weren’t permitted to intermingle with that side of your family. Your father had a soft spot for you, though, one that caused him to keep you nearly hidden from Illyrian life, your wings had been the only Illyrian relic for you to keep.

You soared over the trees and cluttered forest, along the cliffs of the mountain as you flew past the mountain and neared the Winter Court. The air was just as bitter as it was in Night, burning your lungs as you gasped for air. You hadn't flown that fast in a long while, only being allowed to fly alone when your father was gone. Otherwise, he demanded that your mother or brother went with you.

“You don’t know what kind of savages lie beyond these borders,” he had told you, dark eyes not peering up from the book he had propped on his desk.

“I know all about the Attors and the Naga and the - ”

“It is not just about the creatures, (Y/N),” he interrupted, turning the page, eyes skimming the material, tone unwavering. “What you fail to understand is that there are Fae that want to hurt you, too. The males you don’t think twice about have been waiting their whole lives for an opportunity to hurt you.” You bit back whatever response you had waiting. Instead, you simply turned on your heel and made your way out of the office. His voice called down the stony hall: “you’ll thank me someday.”

Past the snowy tree tops and icy river in the Winter Court, you found yourself crossing the border once more, this time into Autumn. The haze swirled around the orange and red trees, murky fog gathering through the forest, hiding all of the secrets Autumn had to offer. You met the harsh smell of the bonfire as you neared the clearing, flapping your wings to keep you up higher and avoid the smoke. You curled your arms around yourself, wishing you had that jacket afterall.

But the warmth of the fire was so inviting, the smell of the smoke that reminded you only of the sweet cinnamon spice and crunch of a freshly harvested apple.

You bit your lip, arms running over your frigid skin. You narrowed your eyes as you dropped altitude, hovering just above the trees. You recognized that fiery red hair from a mile away - the tall male playing with the fire swirling it in his hands, flames dancing in his eyes.

Eris Vanserra.

The Autumn Court male sat perched on a fallen tree, the dying bark stiff and dark. He looked so relaxed - and if you squinted, you could make out the slight curve of his shoulders, slouched. You almost smiled, remembering the last time you saw him at one of the Court of Nightmares’ balls.

Beron had brought all of his sons. There had been only three at that time. Three rowdy males, itching to escape the tight pressed suits with stiff collars, unable to stop themselves from making smart remarks and flashing their teeth at any Night Court female wearing less than their Autumn counterparts.

Beron stood proud in the center, flanked by Eris and his wife, then the two remaining sons. They all stood straight, shoulders back and chins held high, as if they owned the room. And the people in it.

Your father was fond of Beron, perhaps it was their innate coldness to the world, their matching thirst for power. Despite their friendship, it was Rhysand who permitted you from fraternizing with them. “Stay away from them,” he spat through gritted teeth, staring at the tallest one, who, unsurprisingly, was glaring back with just as much fervor.

Though shivers ran down your spine. You watched as his light lips pulled up ever so slightly at the corner, his dark red brows held straight. His eyes burned, a caged animal who knew his escape, waiting for just the right moment to pounce.

A smirk that was positively feral.

And Rhys didn’t miss how those fiery eyes flitted to you.

He broke his own trance only to demand your attention, hoping you hadn’t met that damned Vanserra stare, the one that held the promise of Eris marking his territory. You snapped at your brother as he grabbed your forearm under the table, pulling you towards him. But Rhys continued: “I mean it, (Y/N), he’s not here to make friends.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the crowd, eyes scanning for where Cassian stood guard at the door. It took you longer to find Azriel, lurking in the shadows - the only thing visible in the dark coverage were those bright eyes. You’d overheard your brother requesting their help. He had his own plans for taking over the court, already forming plans and handing out responsibility to his makeshift brothers. Tonight, they had been ordered to watch you.

Or - watch those watching you.

“It’s a ball, Rhysand.” Your eyes flitted to his midnight-colored ones, narrowed at you. “I can entertain my guests.”

“Not. That. One.”

What he didn’t tell you was that your father and Eris’s father had struck up a deal. A plan Rhys was also not too fond of, and had done all but begged his father to decline. In a deceptive attempt to tie the two courts together, Beron and your father had betrothed the two of you. But Rhys had a lengthy meeting with his father, lasting days during their last trip to one of the Illyrian warcamps, convincing him that tying you to Beron, dropping you in the midst of Autumn - wings and all - would not be so kind.

And even though all The High Lord of the Night Court wanted was power and territory, you were still his favorite child. His most prized possession, not one he would easily pass off into foreign hands, into the burning flames of the barely mature Autumn male.

Your father had some pent up feelings about it, taking it out of Rhys and the poor Illyrians. He’d dealt with it though, able to relish in his one small victory.

It was rumored Kier’s wife was carrying a daughter, though.

You circled around the treetops, dancing around the burrowing smoke from the bonfire, grey swirling against the colorful trees. Eris hadn’t moved much, legs outstretched in front of him, lazily throwing knives into a plump pumpkin in front of the fire. As he flicked the last one, it flew past, burying itself in the burning hit logs, cracking red with sparks and dancing embers.

The male pushed himself from his seat, stalking over to the fire and rummaging through the flames for his knife. Your eyebrows knitted together as you watched him manhandle to logs, digging around for his probably favored knife.

He rose steadily, standing just as tall as you remembered, holding the knife in a fist full of fire. Your mouth went dry as the red curled up his arm, tendrils crawling up his arm, licking all the way to his shoulders. The breath was pulled from your lungs, but you forced down a gulp of air, blinking in disbelief.

His eyes mirrored the glossy flames, wicked with pleasure. You almost hoped he smiled - smirked at the very least. Flashed that predatory smile that had your stomach fluttering.

As he threw the fire, far off in the distance to some pile of wet leaves, extinguishing the fire by the time it met the foliage, you felt the air scraping past you.

Fuck.

You flapped your wings, big, slow, broad strokes that had you catching yourself as you dropped in altitude. You cursed yourself, knowing how your brother would chastise you - not only for being here, watching that particular male - but for becoming so distracted you nearly fell from the sky.

With a few more powerful pushes, you lifted, raising only until you were far enough to go undetected.

Or so you thought.

Those red eyes lifted to the sky, a large pale hand drawn through his air in locks.

His gaze met yours.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You turned immediately, rising even higher and building up speed to race home in record speed. Your heart was thumping even before you fully took off back toward Winter.

Perhaps it was the fear of trespassing, or getting caught. It could have been the exhilaration running through your veins. Maybe the fact that you were fighting against all of your desires to drop down beside him.

You didn’t know Eris shared that last desire.

_________________________

“You can’t keep me here!”

It was all you said - yelled - screeched - as you pushed through the front door, not caring that they rattled against the stone walls, nearly snapping at the hinges. Your steps were hard as you found yourself approaching the office, where you easily found Rhysand buried in a book, not bothered by your yelling or sudden intrusion.

He had become so much like your father.

Buried in books, growing his power - for what, you didn’t know. You’d already given up on your hopes of claiming the throne, knowing that all the pushing your father had done to Rhys, for him to strengthen his powers, already promised him the apparent role.

Your mother’s death hit the both of you too hard. Unprepared. Never having lost anything or anyone in your life. You stayed awake at night thinking of her, of her midnight black hair and soft wings. Of how she cared for you, running a hand down your back to lull you to sleep.

You’d spent a few years apart from her, while she returned home to live in the cabin while Rhysand trained as a young male in the Illyrian Mountains. There, she tended to him and his newfound brothers.

You remained in your father’s estate in the true Night Court, carved in the mountainside, swirling with darkness and shadows. Cold, hidden, alone. None of your mother’s kindness, not the smell of her homemade pies. Not your brother, play fighting with wooden swords or flying down the grand staircase. You only lived in Velaris when your mother was home. Without her, it was just you and the High Lord.

A mother’s love for her son would always outweigh that of a father’s for his daughter.

“Let me fly,” you seethed, having to hold yourself back from strangling him from across the desk.

His eyes didn’t look up from where they were fixated on the book in front of him. His black hair curled over his forehead, nose buried in work. He reminded you so much of your father that it almost made you wince. “You can fly -”

“Outside. Of. Velaris.” Venom clinched each word as you spat through gritted teeth.

He did sit back, though, against that broad wooden chair. His wings nowhere in sight. “It’s not safe for you beyond Velaris.”

For you.

“I’m not one of your precious warriors you can order around. Or one of father’s caged subjects in the Court of Nightmares -”

Rhys almost smiled. “Why are you asking me for permission to fly, instead of him?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Because it was Azriel standing in my way, not any of the guards.” Then Rhys did smile, pleased with himself and his friend. Future spymaster of the Night Court, indeed. “Order him to stand down. I don’t need you - or him, for that matter - following me around.”

“It’s for your own protection,” he stated, dark eyes leveling yours. “What happened to mother -”

“It’s been years and don’t use that as some kind of excuse, Rhysand. You know as well as I do that keeping me here won’t fix anything.” Your eyes narrowed at him, as you stepped closer and stood over him, still sitting at the desk that reminded you so much of your fathers.

Rhysand watched as you pivoted on your heel and left the study, wings flaring out behind you. “You’ll thank me someday.” It was all he called out to you as you stormed out - exactly what your father always said to you.

Gods save whatever female ended up mated to him.

It was easy to lock yourself in your room, skipping dinner without so much as an excuse to your father or brother. One of the wraiths came to your room with a tray of soup and meat, to which you turned her away, informing her that you’d like to spend the rest of the evening alone.

You flopped yourself on your wide bed, dark sheets and plush blankets welcoming you home from the cold halls. Nothing had been the same since your mother died. Your father had become unhinged, burning his relationship with the Illyrians even further, torturing and working them harder than he ever had. Rhysand was blind to it, despite those two full-blooded warriors that hung around him. All the pain and suffering would be handled by Cassian once he was officially appointed as General. Azriel spent his days lurking around the court on behalf of the males in your family, offering secrets and tracking every movement. Every one of your movements, too, it seemed.

When you were sure the rest of the estate was asleep, you threw your wide balcony doors open, curtains flailing on either side. The cold chill of night bit your flesh, and you opted to throw a slotted jacket on before you jumped off the cliff.

Your wings splayed immediately, catching you on the stiff wind. You jerked up in the air, flapping your wings powerfully to build momentum.

You had to cross the border.

You raced against the wind, the cold air burning your lungs as you steadied your breath, building up stamina. Nearly out of breath from working against the winter air, you gritted your teeth, huffing out each breath. You cursed your brother, your father, everyone who was keeping you in the court.

You slipped between the mountaintops, banking to dip low in the valley, flying through the shadows to escape. Luckily, you weren’t met with the shadow singer, who was waiting along the tree line earlier to bring you back to Rhys. Cassian wasn’t there either, bulky arms crossed in disappointment, despite the small smirk pulled at his lips.

You soared close to the shimmering tree tops, shaking in the wind. Night blurred into Winter, the dreary landscape fell into a blanket of white, plush pillows of snow fell between the trees and stained the leaves. You longed to drop, to tuck your wings in and fall into the icy piles, to slide down the hills and lay in the snow.

But the cold nipped at you, cascading through your hair and biting the tips of your ears. You soared far enough that the snow began to melt, disappearing towards the Autumn border. You continued toward the orange trees, the smell of fall spice and misty air.

You dropped toward a clearing, boots hitting the stiff mud, cracking underneath your landing. You stretched your wings, twisting your back until you felt your vertebrae pop. With a few rolls of your shoulders, you turned on your heel, observing the surroundings. Mist curled around the tree trunks, moonlight bouncing off the water droplets.

The smell of oak and cinnamon hit your nose, smoke and burning embers sending shivers down your spine. Despite being deep in the Autumn woods, you searched for the source - for who was wandering this forest with you.

“Far from home?” The voice called, low and quiet. Your eyes caught the flash of red hair, as the male stepped out from behind a large tree trunk, emerging from the shadows.

He approached slowly, one hand pressed against his abdomen, where his suit was fastened together with golden buttons, the other, small blade in hand, casually at his side. He stood taller than you - taller than your brother and all of his friends, too - you turned your neck up to meet his amber eyes.

The darkness did not dim his light, the fire that danced in those eyes. His stark cheekbones grew more pronounced as he smiled, that same sly smirk that he’d given you years before in the Court of Nightmares. As his gaze raked over you, you were suddenly hyper-aware of your red stained cheeks and near frost-bitten ears.

But Eris loved the sight of your cold stained skin - red was his favorite color, after all.

“Lost?” He continued, the blade twisting in his long fingers.

You shook your head, turning your chin up higher, as if that would make you any taller, any less intimidated by the heir apparent. “Just out for a late night flight.”

He nodded, biting his lower lip, flashing his sharp white teeth. “I don’t think we ever met, that night at the ball.” You nodded, hands running down your front to smooth out the winkles. “I’m Eris Vanserra.”

I know.

“(Y/N),” you replied before cocking your head to the side. “Do you always greet your guests in such a welcoming manner?”

Your eyes flitted down to where he turned the knife in his hand, then back up to his eyes. He almost laughed, but instead huffed out a louder-than-normal breath. He pocketed the tool, flexing his fingers with a soft crack of his knuckles. “Caught me at the wrong time.”

“My apologies,” you breathed, daring yourself to look anywhere other than those alluring red eyes. “I just have always wanted to see the trees up close.” You turned your head up, glancing at the colorful leaves, darkened by the moonlight.

Don’t expose your neck.

Your brother’s voice rang in your head, the memory of him training you once many years ago. He’d demanded to show you how to defend yourself, should you end up in a situation like this one.

Exactly like this one, actually.

How am I to make friends if I am to treat everyone as my enemy?

He almost laughed at that - at your feigned innocence. You don’t need any more friends, was what he replied with. Especially ones outside of this court.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the memory, instead kicking your feet at the piles of leaves, at the clumps of dirt littering the forest floor, now caked to the bottom of your boots. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I can leave - ”

“No,” Eris interrupted, almost too quickly. He cursed himself inwardly, stopping himself from blurting out the next sentence that nearly rolled off his tongue. Instead, he took a breath before he continued. He gestured to dried tree stump with a base wider than your own wing-span. “Please join me.”

You smiled, pointy ears perking up as you couldn’t help but cock a brow at the male. With all the warnings and stories from your brother and father about the Autumn male, you were sure they had to have fabricated the tall tales. Eris shoved his hands in his pockets nervously, waiting for your response. You didn’t try to hide the smirk, the pull at your lips as you chuckled, the jittery male about ready to jump out of his own skin.

You nodded in thanks, gathering your skirts above your ankle to shift through the squishy dirt. You plopped down, huffing a breath of relief as you rolled your shoulders again, twisting your back, willing it to crack. Eris’s eyes traveled the length of your leathery wings, held high and folded nearly behind you.

“Have you been carving pumpkins?” You asked, eyes drawn at the sliced rotting pumpkin and squash across the clearing. Seeds and stringy guts littered the ground, slashes and markings stabbed into the tough skin.

He let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his red hair, curling through the end of his palm. “Letting out a little pent up stress,” he replied, fingertips brushing the heavy blade in his pocket, feeling the hot metal through the fabric of his pants.

You raised your brows, and nodded in understanding. “I know how that goes.” Your eyes were stuck on the mess in front of you.

Eris was a blur by your side, walking over to where you sat perched on the tree trunk. Again, he had to restrain himself from rushing over and plopping down next to you - just to smell the cool night on your skin, the flowery and loamy scent. In his palm, he held out the small dark blade, a sharp contrast against his pale skin. “Give it a go.”

He peered down at you, eyes soft, eyebrows raised in earnest, not preening down his nose at you, as the males in your household so often did. He wasn’t fully smiling, but you noticed how the corners of his pink lips turned up just enough in friendly greeting.

As you took the knife, your fingers brushed against his palm, and the soft touch sent shivers down his spine.

He blew out a shaky breath, thanking the Mother that his skin did not burn you. He lowered his hand and instinctively pulled the edges of his sleeves down, keeping the winding scars across his wrists hidden from view. “Not afraid of giving an Illyrian a blade?”

Eris watched as you laughed slightly, perhaps just to break the tension. He couldn’t break the seriousness that had been beaten down his spine. “I’m not afraid of you.”

And in that moment, you felt seen. You felt the warmth of those red eyes in your soul, the heat that lurched in your stomach. His gaze washed over your face, taking in every feature, the red splotches on your cheeks and wind-blown hair, the arch of your brow and curve of your lips. He committed you to memory, in case he was never allowed the chance to be so close to you again. He wanted nothing more than to lean in closer, until your breaths twisted together in the air, until your smells merged into a sweet smoke or perhaps a laden copper.

At last, his stare fell to your wings, the broad, black leather matte against the moonlight. You felt the blush crawl up your cheeks, an inadvertent dip of your head that had him dying to grab your face, to hold your cheek in his hand and tilt your head back up. “I like your wings,” he offered simply, slouching a bit and dropping his head, until you looked up to meet his eyes, then level with your own. “I like that you don’t hide them.”

Your breath nearly caught in your throat, heart stopping as he spoke. Did he know of Rhysand’s wings? Those he kept hidden from everyone outside of the Night Court. It had to be a guess.

Your terror only filled half of you, though, as the other half glowed at his words, at his acknowledgement of your wings. The only thing that truly made you you. His eyes washed over them with grace, with a softness that you know would be mirrored in his touch, should he reach out to run his finger over them. The thought alone made your stomach twist.

You smiled in thanks, twirling the knife in your hands, pulling yourself from the trance he held you in. His gaze was a storm of emotion, strong and swirling with the fire that danced in his veins. You had to snap yourself out of it, wholly unsure of what you’d do if you remained that close to him.

Eris followed your lead, straightening and turning straight ahead, nodding his head toward the mess of vegetables in front of him. “Sometimes I need to get away from the noise,” he offered, unsure of where he was actually going with the story.

“I hear you have another brother,” you replied, holding the knife just over your shoulder. “Congratulations to you and your family.”

Eris stifled a laugh - poorly. With a hum, he offered a quiet, reluctant thanks.

You threw the knife straight ahead, letting out a satisfied breath as the sharp blade twirled from your fingers, launching straight ahead and landing in the harsh flesh. “I know the exact feeling.” You turned to catch Eris’s eye, displeasure laced across his features. “Though I suppose I only have one,” you added, trying to break the tension.

The corner of his mouth lifted up, catching your sideways glance. “Is that what drove you to my cold woods in the dead of night?”

You rolled your eyes, huffing out a sigh at the subject. “How obvious was it?”

Eris shrugged. “I know family drama when I see it.”

You met that with a firm nod. “He’s a little overbearing,” you offered, not wanting to get into the full argument, unsure of how trustworthy the male beside you really could be.

“I noticed at the ball,” he replied. Eris knew of the bad blood between the two eldest heirs - hell, he was half of it. Despite the friendship - or the apparent camaraderie, at least - between their two fathers, Eris and Rhys had always held a certain animosity towards each other.

“Yeah that’s part of it,” you said, kicking your legs out in front of you, the hem of your dress riddled with mud. “Sometimes I just need to get out.” You gestured to the open air, to the wide forest and vast expanse of trees surrounding you. “The Night Court can feel stuffy sometimes.”

Eris watched you, watched as those bright eyes shimmered under the moonlight, taking in the different colors and sounds around you. Eris had only been to your home court a few times, never had he been glad to cross the border, knowing he’d be met with nothing but darkness and despair.

Since that night at the ball, though, he’d been itching to find an excuse to return.

If only to be able to catch just a glance at you from across the room.

“You didn’t stop by,” Eris said, seemingly out of the blue. “Last time you were here.”

You nearly choked. “Sorry for - I didn’t mean to…” you trailed off, trying - and failing - to buy yourself a minute to come up with an excuse. You didn’t think he actually saw you that day. Saw something, sure - a bird, maybe. But not you.

Eris let out a low chuckle, a rumble deep in his chest that traveled through your bones, landing deep in your stomach. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He turned his head, the loose red curls shifting over his forehead as he moved. “I saw you flying, right before you sprang for the mountains.”

“I didn’t want to intrude,” you replied, wanting to shrink down and disappear.

“Trespass,” he corrected, mostly joking. You smiled, eyes flitting over his every feature. The moon cast shadows along those cheekbones, casting a dark shadow over his neck, blocking the view of the delicate pale skin, tucked away behind a turtleneck. His dark brows raised, revealing his casualness.

“Trespass,” you repeated, testing the word. “I needed some time away from Night,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “It was the first fire I saw that day. And it was so gods-damned cold.”

He smiled. “Almost as cold as tonight.”

He wanted so desperately to give you his jacket, to drape the heavy brown fabric over your shoulders, to see you in his court colors, his clothes.

The air behind you stirred, a flash of cold that sent shivers down your spine.

You would have turned to investigate, to see what had appeared behind you. You would have, had it not been for the shadows curling around your ankles.

Before Eris could speak, before he could register the Shadowsinger in his Court, you cut him off. “Azriel.” It was more of a warning than anything else, ordering him to remain where he stood, to not take a step closer.

Eris only stood, poised in front of the Illyrian. His knife was too far away, the one you’d thrown across the clearing into the makeshift target. You didn’t know about the one hidden in the waistband on his pressed pants, nor the larger one, buried in a pile of leaves just to your left. He was ready to jump, to wedge himself in between Rhysand’s dog and you, if need be.

You stood, too, just a moment later, facing the black-haired male. “You didn’t need to come here.”

You were surprised he responded, only having heard the male speak a few times, just around your brother. “You said you wouldn’t leave the court.”

Your jaw set, watching as his expression did not change one bit. He didn’t offer you a blink, not a dip of the head or a raise of his brow. You turned to Eris, who was simply staring daggers at the Illyrian. “Eris, I - ” you cut yourself off, unsure of even what to say.

But he would have bowed to you then and there just for you to repeat his name.

He nodded toward you, then toward the Shadowsinger, no animosity towards each other, other than that by their mutual connection: Rhysand. Azriel, calmest of the three of the Illyrians, by far the most rational, waited for you where he had winnowed in, not moving except to flare his wings behind him. He knew he was in Eris’s Court, outside of his own territory. He was cautious to make a wrong move, to make any at all. He spread those large wings, taking up more space, intimidating and warning Eris to not take a step closer to you.

“Thank you for stopping by.” It was all Eris said, the warm male you were speaking with just a moment ago, replaced with the cold courtier, diffusing the situation. He aligned much more with the Eris your brother had warned you about, perhaps playing the role since the Shadowsinger had shown up.

Azriel waited until you stepped over the tree trunk you’d once been sitting on, for him to hold his hand out to you. You didn’t take it, instead stopping at his side and turning around once more to Eris. He stared at you firmly, not surprised, not shocked, not irritated at the other male for entering his woods. It simply was, and Eris could do nothing except escalate the situation.

Azriel grabbed your forearm, not caring to warn you before winnowing out immediately. Eris held your gaze, his eyes not leaving yours until you were fully gone. His jaw set and head tilted back in a curse towards your brother, for sending his friend to take you home.

You also cursed your brother, promising yourself that you’d berate him as soon as Azriel took you back to the Night Court estate. You’d spend the rest of your night wondering when - and how - you’d be able to see Eris again. Surely, you’d be able to come up with a plan, a time when you’d be able to visit him next.

Eris spent the rest of the evening in the same way.

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thisblogisaboutabook · 4 months

Text

Bad Idea, Right?

An Eris x Reader drabble

(Part 2) (Part 3)

Warnings: a bit smutty, language

“Your dad’s going to kill you.”

My head was pounding. This bed was so warm.

Last night was a blur.

Nyx, how many times do I have to request that you not intrude on my thoughts before 9 am.

“It’s almost noon, cousin.”

Shit!

Shit, cover for me! Please.

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

Right. I know. Cover for me anyway?

“One hour. Be here in one hour. You owe me.”

Don’t worry, Nyxie. I’ll cover for you the next time you visit the lovely daughter of Spring.

Slamming my mental shields up, I rolled over to the fiery lover next to me with a groan, “Get me out of this autumnal wasteland.”

“Good morning to you too, little one.” the redhead pressed against my backside grumbled.

I rolled over to smack his shoulder. “Gross, Eris. I’m the same age as Aunt Nesta when you proposed to her.”

Eris smirked. “She never called me daddy like you do.”

I let out a mirthful laugh, hoisting myself on top of him, straddling just below his rippled abdomen, “I’m never fucking you again.”

“You say that every time, dear.” Gripping his hands on my hips, groggy voice a whisper, “Yet somehow you keep falling back into my bed.”

Fuck. He was so hot.

I leaned down, pressing my breasts to his bare chest, face just an inch from his. “I can’t help that my shadows love how you beg.”

A growl escaped the back of his throat as my shadows restrained his wrists above his head. My gaze turned icy as I commanded, “Eyes on me, Eris.”

His only response a shift of his hips.

“Don’t fucking move.” I purred.

Nyx could keep the family off my back for a little longer.

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utterlyotterlyx · 1 month

Note

4 and/or 25 with Eris, please!

Lost In The Fire

Eris x Fem!Reader

Warnings - mentions of arranged marriage, suggestive comments, lots of fluff

(not spell checked sorry x)

What if you - If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you. Don't leave me here alone.

Balls had never been, nor ever would be, your thing.

The opulence that came with them was sickening, a waste of precious resources that could be put toward something more beneficial. The gold on display, the mountains of food that hardly anyone would touch that sat as a putrid reminder of power and wealth, and the stench of ale made your stomach churn with distaste.

You would forever curse your brother, Thesan, for giving you over to the Autumn Court, you understood that you had a duty to fulfil, and since you were the sister of one of the more liberal courts, with unmatched spiritual abilities, it meant that you were a high prize indeed.

You had long lost your usual clothing, red and gold loose fitting robes that still had the power to accentuate every feature you held lay dormant in your wardrobe and had been swapped out for tighter fitting garments in an arrangement of greens and browns and oranges. By order of Lady Autumn, of course.

There would be a day when her title would belong to you, and you always had to look the part.

It was a part you played well.

Marriage to Eris, the Heir of the Autumn Court, wasn't nearly as bad as you had expected it to be. It was lucky that your talents in spirituality were so advanced, and you were also lucky that his knowledge of your gifts was so little when you had first met.

Despite his cold exterior, you saw a small boy within him wanting more than anything to break free from the chains that bound him to his position. It was his only defence against his father. But, he knew that you could see through it, see through him in a way that no one else could and part of him was relieved to finally have someone who could understand him.

Things were still rocky, you struggled with their way of life, something Beron despised and spoke of frequently, saying he did not want you leading his court if you couldn't bend your morals and do what was needed. If turning your back on the people who needed you was too stiff, then you didn't want to be leading his court anyway.

But everything with Eris was good, more than good actually, you had actually come to care for him beyond the requirements of your marriage. Eris had moved your rooms opposite his own to have you closer to him, to have you speak him into newfound calm when his duties became too much; to have you closer to him so that he could soothe your clairvoyant episodes that pounced on you from nowhere.

It was meant to be a marriage of convenience, a marriage to forge new power and bonds and produce a litter of children who possessed both of your abilities. A new path for Autumn, a stronger path.

The clouds darkened on the horizon, the moon poked through their curls and illuminated them with a faint pale blue glow. Lanterns lined the garden paths below your window, Eris had made sure to give you the room with the best view, and you watched idly as high born nobles and invited guests to the nights festivities strolled down the cobbled stone paths arm in arm, pointing at the array of intricately carved white marble statues and fountains littered across the lawns, scattered between the hedges and lush flowerbeds.

Ladies swarmed you, tugging at your limbs and shimmying skirts up your legs before huffing and ripping them down again, tapping your calves to tell you to lift your feet so that they could try the next one. Lady Autumn ordered that racks upon racks of opulent dresses be wheeled into your chambers, it was important that you look your best in front of all of the nobles attending that evening, from Autumn and those from other courts.

Even Beron knew how powerful your opinion was to others, not like he would ever listen to it himself. You had been the one to accompany your brother to the High Lords meeting to find a path forward against Hybern. It was your grace and elegance that kept the meeting from boiling over since you were able to feel the emotions of others and force them to simmer down before they consumed the room. It was you who had been able to tell them all of Hyberns movements which no doubt gave them the edge they needed. It was you who saved dozens upon dozens of soldiers from all courts.

You had been the one to help Feyre with the complications with her pregnancy, you had been there for the birth of her son and had given a kernel of your own gift to keep her alive; it made you a very trusted ally to the Night Court, a friend. Helion wrote to you often asking for you opinions on research and inventions, even went as far as to ask for your input on some new policies he wanted to introduce to Day.

It was stupid to suggest that you wouldn't be the perfect High Lady.

Diplomatic. Gifted. Elegant. Poised.

And Eris adored every part of you that you decided to show him, he basked in it actually.

You weren't really paying attention as the ladies around you tugged at your hair and pulled another dress up your body, fitting it tightly around your breasts and hips before standing back and humming in approval. Then you looked.

An assortment of shimmering golds, burnt oranges and flecks of silver, all weaving between one another like the summer tides. It was sheer, enough to be endearing and elegant but not enough to appear indecent. There was a cut out half sphere below your breasts and the bodice flared upward like streaks of sunshine at the crack of dawn. Even you had to admit that it was a stunning piece indeed. Like a stained glass window glowing with dawns kiss.

"This is the one," your fingers brushed around your hips with a faint smile, your hair was unbound and simple, a perfect compliment to the other-worldly dress you adorned, and your makeup was a picture of dewy perfection, shimmers along your cheekbones and forehead, arched brows, glossed lip. "Thank you," you had dismissed the flock of women as soon as they strapped your shoes to your feet, taking a moment for yourself before you slipped from the room.

The quietness of the hallway was enough to tell you that Eris would already be in the ballroom, no doubt sassily quipping the other High Lords and Ladies with cold eyes and a stiff spine. An act that would melt under your presence.

You weren't wrong.

As soon as you had entered the room, it was encapsulated by you. Feyre and Mor rushed to greet you, stroking your hair and running their hands down your skirts, begging for you to tell them where had gotten it. Cassian bundled you into a boisterous embrace which earnt him a curt jab from Nesta for the inappropriateness, Azriel kissed your knuckles as did Rhys, and Helion kissed your cheek in greeting, muttering to you how beautiful you looked in a hushed tone.

No reaction compared to that of Eris however as he remained glued to his seat with lips agape as his russet orbs scoured your figure, the mere action of his eyes on you making heat rise to your cheeks.

Tables lined the room with benches on either side, all packed with goblets of wine and mugs of ale, platters of food scattered at intricately measured intervals. Only Beron and Lady Autumn sat at the head of the hall, the latter of which examined you with approval.

Everyone had floated about you, stealing your attention from the one you desired to give it to. From Rhys asking you, jokingly, to revolt against Autumn and find sanctuary in Velaris, to Thesan pulling you to the side to inquire if you were being treated well. Helion had updated you on the policies you had so gracefully aided him in implementing, and you found a moment to catch up with Kallias and Viviane.

Then you made your way over to Eris who was wrapped up in a conversation with Lucien and Elain, whose gaze jolted from cold to warm in a split second when he saw your dress glistening in the corner of his eye, "Hello, Embers," his voice was as smooth as freshly cracked open whisky as he prodded you with the nickname he had given you, he thought you glowed, not brightly, but like embers on a dying fire, low and warm.

Eris was extremely proud to call you his wife, not only were you clearly beautiful, but you had a heart of molten gold, people sought you out for comfort and aid, you were graceful and poised, and could change the world with your bare hands if you wished it. It was what he needed, a chance of a real future with the woman he was falling in love with.

He couldn't blame you for your feelings toward him, you didn't exactly have a choice in the marriage but you had tried to make the most of it, and you had let him in and spent more time with him away from the duties required of you. Eris thought that you had finally started to feel a certain way toward him as well, from the faint shine in your eyes when you looked at him to the real laughter that sliced through the fogged atmosphere when he quipped something to you. You made him melt, you made him be who he always wanted to be.

"Hello," your voice was as soft as drizzled honey and your hair fell over your shoulders as you leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek, a necessary act to display your strength as a couple.

Eris felt your eyes trail down his chest and arms, the open collared cream shirt and chestnut brown jacket and pants; he had styled his hair the way you loved it, tamed but still with a playfulness to it, tousled slightly as if he had been stood on the balcony in the wind for a few moments. "Do you like it?" Eris motioned to his suit with that gleam in his eye that made your knees weak, it was certainly a good thing that he wasn't an empath like you, otherwise he'd know his effect on you and no doubt tease you for it.

Just because Eris couldn't feel your emotion doesn't mean that someone else couldn't read you like a book.

You're blushing, a voice infiltrated your mind and you did well to keep a stoic face against Rhys' shit-eating smirk he was no doubt wearing from his seat across the bench from your husband, with his arm loosely wrapped around Feyre's waist, sipping from his goblet with a teasing glint in his eye. Someone might say you might actually feel something for the man.

Ignoring the voice in your head, you spoke, "I love it, we're basically matching."

You'll definitely be matching when both of your clothes are on the floor tonight.

Go fuck yourself, Rhys.

I don't need to. Not when I have my lovely mate.

The walls in your mind flew up then, trapping his talons against the roof of your consciousness with such force that the High Lord visibly winced and rubbed his temple tenderly.

"You look angelic," Eris stood before you, taking your hand in his and pressing his lips against the back of your hand, dipping low and peering at you through his lashes, making no effort to mask the desire in his emotions.

"Thank you," it came out as a whisper and he placed your hand back to your side, sitting down again beside his brother, allowing you to glance along the table which housed not only Eris and Lucien, but also Elain, Rhys, Feyre, Nesta, Cassian, Azriel, Helion, and your brother, meaning there was no space for you, "I suppose I'll go and sit with Kallias and Viviane," you picked up your skirts to turn away when Eris' hand shot out and secured around your wrist.

Eris' eyes glowed in the candlelight, you could see the flames flickering in his russet orbs that had you in a constant chokehold, "What if you-"

"If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you," Azriel choked on his wine and coughed as Rhys and Cassian howled in laughter, even Eris chuckled and ran a hand through his hair at your words, standing to tower over you and cup your face in his hand.

"Perhaps later," he smirked and you visibly blushed at the words, even Eris couldn't miss it and he stroked a thumb over your rosed cheek.

In defence, you quipped, "Maybe I'll go back to my chambers then," the words flew from your mouth and you only realised how they sounded when Eris' focus darkened, the tension between you both was palpable to the point that even Azriel let out a whoosh of air he didn't realise he was holding in his lungs.

"So tempting," he took a step closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and speaking a low, rough tone, "Don't leave me here alone, you know I don't do well without you."

"Fine," you strained and he grinned victoriously before ordering his brother and Elain to scooch down slightly to make room for you, and you slotted beside Eris like the final piece to his puzzle, thanking him for the goblet of wine you had taken from his offering fingers and looking upward at Rhys and Feyre who both sent you a knowing glance.

Knocking on the doors of your mind, you allowed Rhys to slip in, doing your best to stay distracted against Eris' hand on your hip that sent fire coursing through your veins and heat pooling between your thighs.

I've never known him to be like this, you know.

Like what?

Rhys' eyes flickered to Eris in examination before finding you again whilst Feyre kept the heir ignorant to the conversation between you and her mate.

Soft. Caring. He loves you, Y/N.

Well, it's a good thing I love him too then.

Rhys smirked, raising his goblet to you to which you clinked against your own, sipping the spiced wine and smiling with happiness at his words.

Eris sighed and turned to you, placing a kiss to your cheek, allowing his lips to graze against your cheekbones and his breath to fan down your neck. The rest of the room had moved on, wrapped up in one another, wrapped up in the ale and music, leaving you and Eris alone and untouchable in your little bubble. His eyes scanned you, sketching every part of you onto the canvas within his mind, "Your presence has impacted me so deeply that I'm convinced that if we never met then something would feel missing," he rested his forehead against your own and his hand gripped your waist as his gaze bore into you, "Don't leave me alone, don't ever leave me," a breathless plea that stole your heart.

"I will never leave you, Eris. I will be here to watch all of your dreams come true, I promise."

Flames danced in his eyes and he became unbothered by who could be watching, "They already are," his finger stroked a line up the curve of your throat as he lifted your chin up, wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours in something you could only call ethereal, so tender but passionate that you felt your heart burst with golden light in your chest.

Eris smirked against your lips, a knowing thing, like he knew exactly what had just happened, pulling away, you gasped as your hand ghosted over the fabric of your heart, "You knew?"

"From the moment we met at that meeting in Dawn," his nose brushed against yours, "You were too busy helping Thesan and keeping Tamlin under control to notice, but I saw you, and I knew I needed you."

"You never said anything."

"How could I?" Eris pressed a kiss to your nose, "You had to fall for me on your own, I couldn't influence that."

You inhaled his scent, of crackling firewood and spiced oranges and sighed, you curled your fingers around the lapels of his jacket and kissed him again, more forcefully, and luckily for you both, the room hadn't noticed your infatuation due to Cassian's well played distraction to give you both a moment, one that you needed.

"I need to get you out of here before I take you on this table," his voice possessively growled and it made you shudder in intense delight.

Rhys watched from across the way as Eris took your hand in his own and pulled you from the room, smiling at the large grin on your face and the faint giggles passing through your lips as he saw the silhouette of Eris flinging you over his shoulder cascaded in shadow onto the white stone floor.

If anyone deserved true happiness, a life of wonder and love, it was you, and it was something Rhys believed Eris was now fully capable of providing for you.

Author's Note

Back from Paris in love with the idea of love so expect lots of fluff coming your way x

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achaotichuman · 3 months

Text

Eris Vanserra

Through a combination of spite and wanting to write out my feelings, I've created this slice of tragedy. Thank @fell-in-luvs for putting the idea in my head.

Trigger warnings- Domestic violence, physical abuse, mild thoughts of suicide, implied self-harm.

Head between his knees, hands over his ears. Just keep breathing.

Porcelain smashed against the ground, and he heard her screaming. Just keep breathing.

He yelled at her, voice reverberating through the hallways.

She screamed at him, still young, still unknowing of what pain it would cause, to never raise his voice at her.

Then she screamed, she screamed in pain and Eris sobbed into his knees. His small, red face, wet with tears. On wobbling knees, barely big enough to open the door he had been sitting beside, he reached up and pulled down the door handle. The glistening gold burning from fire leaping under his skin. The five-year-old threw the heavy wood open with all the strength in his body.

She was thrown across the wooden floors of the bedroom, crying so loudly as blood poured from her nose, and her eyes swelled from a bruise now blooming. Beron reeled his fist back, screaming at her disrespect, at her insolence.

Eris screamed, the boy leapt at his father, flames sparking on his hands, “Stop!”

He hit his fathers legs as his lungs burned for air. The continuous chant of begging and demanding pouring from his hoarse throat, “Stop! Stop! Stop!”

Even with all the fire he found within himself, Beron grabbed his short red hair and threw him down to the ground. Eris cried as the air whooshed from his lungs, he gasped and gasped, but his throat refused to allow any oxygen within.

“See what you’ve taught him, you fucking whore!” Beron screamed at his wife.

She cried, arms trembling as they tried to lift her from the ground, but it was of no use as her husband descended upon her again. Fist pulling back, a scream and the cracking of bone as he met her jaw again and again.

“Let her go! Let her go!” Eris shrieked. A bruise appeared on his face as a red mark. He was shaking until it was so hard to so much as walk, he tried to rush at Beron again. But the male pulled up a wall of fire that scorched Eris’s hands and face.

Eris screamed and threw up across the floors. Darkness edged in his vision and he looked up to see the image of his mother, bawling as she bleed and bleed. She begged and pleaded, but Beron’s hand wasn’t merciful.

“Stop it! Please stop it!” Eris cried from the floor.

He remembered the light of the moon from that night. How it shone in through the large glass windows, all shut and locked. He remembered how it shimmered across his mother’s blood smeared across the floor.

Eris blinked the images away, forcing his eyes back to what he was seeing. His mother stared into her food, hands neatly folded in her lap. Beron howled with laughter, and the sudden laugh caused both to flinch suddenly. Though Eris’ was far less noticeable.

With no eyes on them, with every courtier at the dining hall preoccupied with sucking up to Beron. No one at any particular spot, as the formalities had been forgotten after the thirteenth bottle of wine had been opened.

Eris reached out, hands gentle and calloused, they just managed to brush the back of his mother’s hand. The six-year-old that begged for his father’s hands to keep off his mother’s skin peeking through.

But this was no longer the woman that remembered her own will. This was no longer the woman who braided flowers into his hair at celebrations, and she was no longer the woman who patched his knees when he fell off his horse.

She pulled away from his fingers so abruptly a nearby lady looked over. Quickly her eyes turned back to Beron’s sneering grin.

“Mother-” The word slipped from his throat before he could stop it.

“You’re just like him.” His mother hissed.

Eris stared.

Not one of his father’s hits, not one of his words, or training, had ever…

Punched him as hard as that.

“Mother-” His voice cracked, breathing was hard again.

He was back on the floor, without air in his lungs, he was back in that bedroom. He saw her behind that wall of fire again.

“You are just like him.” She said again.

Her flaming russet eyes looked up to see him. They burned. They burned with a hatred so bright, Eris flinched again.

Those words held words, words that stung more than ones she actually voiced. ‘Go on, tell him I am willing to defy you.’

“Please-”

He wanted to sob. He wanted to run into the arms of his mother in a field of grass under the protection of oaks and Autumn leaves. He wanted her to look at him and smile.

‘Please.’

‘Please, I’m still your baby boy, aren’t I?’

“Please-”

“I hate you.”

Beron standing over her, tears streaming down her face as she cried and begged.

Eris felt his father’s leg underneath his hands again as he tried to burn the male.

I hate you.

You’re just like him.

Just like him. Just like him. Just like him. Just like him.

“Eris!” Beron boomed. Eris’ head snapped up and his face fell into the mask of false respect and bitter smirks.

“Yes, Father?” The words had the slightest of shakes to them. Not enough that anyone noticed. No one would ever notice.

“Come join the head of the table, my boy! Lord Entrice has some news to share.” Beron had such a sadistic glint in his eyes.

Run, every bone in his body said so. He didn’t feel safe. He wasn’t safe. He was never safe.

Eris stood and beside him, his mother huffed a laugh. His eyes snapped to her once again, and there she stared at the meal before her, but he saw her hating eyes, and her smirk, ‘Go suck up to him.’ Was what that smirk said.

She didn’t dare lift her head to meet his eyes. Beron called again, voice beginning to border on agitated.

Just like him.

“Yes, Father.” Eris answered.

When Eris retreated to his quarters that night, he saw nothing. He felt nothing. Like his whole body was on another plane. His soul retreated to some small corner where it heard nothing. Like a child putting their hands over their ears and chanting ‘Lalalala I can’t hear you’.

He didn’t remember when he locked the door, he didn’t remember when he bathed or changed, or sat down beside the fire. He didn’t know why he was sitting on the floor and not on the lounge. He didn’t know why he was sitting so close to the flames, and he didn’t know why he was staring into them without ever looking away.

Just like him.

You’re just like him.

A smile curved on his face, even as tears welled in his eyes.

I hate you.

Then what’s left?

Lucien was gone.

His other brothers refused his help.

If his mother hated him?

What was left?

The rest of the Autumn Court, a logical voice told him, trying to pull him back from the edge. The rest of the Autumn Court would need him one day, he would have to be living for that.

The Autumn Court had survived this long, was he that necessary?

To improve their lives he was.

Was he?

Just like him.

He was just like him.

Eris didn’t remember taking a knife in his hands, and he didn’t remember holding it over the fire.

But he did remember the pricks of the blade over his arms. And he did remember the marks it left.

Just like him.

I hate you.

What was left?

#eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #lady of the autumn court #acotar #acotar headcanons #acotar au #a court of thorns and roses #i wrote this in like half an hour #eris vanserra deserves better #eris goes through it #thats basically the whole oneshot #the autumn court #beron vanserra

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the-darkestminds · 22 days

Text

A Dying Flame

Eris POV — my first fic

Heyyyyy friends. I decided to write the two scenes UTM from Eris’s POV where Lucien is being tormented and Eris is forced to watch. It can also be found here. I’ve never written anything before so be nice to me 😭 I took a few lines directly from ACOTAR to set the scene and make it as canon as possible, but the rest came from me. I tried to channel SJM's writing style as best I could. I am trash for Eris so I couldn’t resist. I hope you guys like it 🥲 title is dumb so I might change it. I am eternally grateful for any of you who choose to read the whole thing, I promise it’s not too long! 🙏

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Eris

I stood at the edge of the gathered crowd, struggling to keep the cool mask of indifference on my face as Amarantha once again had Lucien bound and on his knees before her. Would his torment never cease? He had never quite mastered the ability to keep his mouth shut, to leash his tongue until the moment it would best serve him. Lucien’s loud mouth had already cost him his left eye, plucked right from his head by Amarantha herself. Rage coursed through me at the role I was forced to play each day under this cursed mountain. How useless I’d become at protecting those I held most dear.

Lucien and I had not exchanged honest words in over 30 years. I longed for the chance to speak to him alone, to beg him to hold his tongue so as not to draw Amarantha’s ire more than he already had. Not for the first time, I desperately wished for the daemati abilities the High Lord of Night possessed so that I might speak to Lucien privately. Abilities he was about to unleash upon my brother.

Beside Lucien stood a small and ordinary mortal girl, likely Amarantha’s newest plaything to torture and discard.

“Her name?” Amarantha asked Tamlin, who didn’t reply. “I don’t suppose your handsome brothers know, Lucien,” she purred.

Give up her name! I nearly begged him. To hell with the girl. Instead I heard myself say, “If we did, Lady, we would be the first to tell you.” The words tasted like poison on my tongue. My brothers chuckled from behind me.

Amarantha only smiled and nodded at Rhysand. He cocked his head, his eyes narrowing slightly on Lucien, who hissed in pain.

I tensed as Rhysand began smiling faintly. Bastard. He was a loathsome, foul bastard. And though I knew he played a role and wore a mask as much as the rest of us, it didn’t stop me from hating him as he held Lucien’s mind in his clutches.

Lucien stiffened in pain. A groan slipped out of him, and–

“Feyre!” the girl shouted. “My name is Feyre.”

Lucien sagged on the ground, trembling. Relief shuttered through me, and I bared my teeth and snarled quietly at the girl to disguise the trembling in my hands, my legs. He was safe, for now. And no thanks to me.

The conversation continued, but I let my mind drift far away. Tried to feel nothing as I attempted to calm my racing heart. I clenched my sweaty palms at my sides and allowed myself a quick glance at Lucien’s prone form. Alive–for now.

I slipped back into the crowd as they dragged Feyre away. He was alive. I repeated this to myself as the cruelty continued through the night, as it did every night in this miserable place. Alive–as I sipped wine and smiled at the punishment the Attor was inflicting on the poor faeries Amarantha had singled out this evening. Alive, alive, alive a steady chant in my blood as the night wore on.

Alive.

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“Well, Feyre, your second trial has come.” I heard Amarantha smugly announce from her throne at the front of the room. A gnawing dread had been pooling in my gut for the last hour. I could only guess at what new horror she had in store for the girl, but I grew increasingly anxious when I did not see Lucien amongst the revelers. He tended to lurk in the shadows of the room, one eye on Tamlin, ever the loyal sentry. I couldn’t help the low snarl that escaped me at the thought. That Lucien was willing to risk his own life for the Spring Court brute. The faerie next to me skittered away at the sound.

I slowly made my way towards the gathered crowd. Faeries averted their eyes as I passed. It was a relief that I still commanded a modicum of fear from these leeches. Their fear of me was a weapon I wielded frequently.

Amarantha sat proudly on her throne. The Attor at her left, Tamlin braced stiffly behind her on her right.

“Here, Feyre darling, you shall find your task. Simply answer the question by selecting the correct lever, and you’ll win. Select the wrong one to your doom. As there are only three options, I think I have given you an unfair advantage.” Something metallic groaned at the snap of her fingers. “That is,” she added with a snake-like smile, “if you can solve the puzzle in time.”

I had just gotten a glimpse of the girl when the floor where she was standing began to sink down, revealing a small chamber split in two by a metal grate.

I went rigid as I beheld the figure chained to the floor, previously hidden from view. A loud roaring began building in my head. My skin felt tight and hot as I saw that it was Lucien–Lucien, who would again be part of the night’s entertainment. Lucien wrenched at the chains binding him to the floor. I nearly puked on the throne room floor at the sight of it.

Only the many years of practice in my long immortal life stopped the cry of anguish from escaping me as burning spikes began to slowly lower towards Lucien from above. I was a fool. A wretched fool to think Amarantha was done torturing him. That she would not use his friendship with the girl again and again until she finally broke, or was dead, Lucien along with her. I made to take a step forward but then jerked to a stop. Nothing. There was nothing I could do to stop this without damning us both further. I would be forced to watch in silent agony as Lucien was slowly and painfully crushed under the weight of those red-hot spikes.

I stared and stared at Lucien, only vaguely aware of the girl flailing and panicking in the chamber next to him. This was some new level of hell. My nightmare brought to life, one that I could not wake myself up from.

“Answer it!” Lucien shouted, his voice hitched. My eyes burned, and I felt a cold drop of sweat begin to drip down my spine. Only sheer force of will kept the practiced smirk on my lips. The spikes lowered further.

“Just pick one!” Lucien shouted. He strained against the chains, panting frantically, eyes wide.

My brothers around me laughed gleefully, and I forced myself to join in, the sound a pitiful rasp in my ears. I was grateful that the crowd around me was thoroughly distracted by the horror unfolding before us. That they could not hear my pounding heart or the screaming inside my head as those molten spikes lowered another inch closer to Lucien’s body, helplessly chained to the floor. This was the true torture. Not the painful lashes I’d so often received from my father for disappointing him in one way or another. Not the loneliness and fear that threatened to crush me after so many years navigating the snake pit of my father’s court. But this. Forced to stand idly by as my loved ones were killed. Forced to hear the fear in Lucien’s voice as he begged the girl to just pick a lever and be unable to stop any of it.

“Feyre, please!” Lucien moaned. The terror in his voice nearly brought me to my knees. And yet I stood there like a statue. Maybe this was my punishment for being so useless. So worthless. I desperately wished I could take Lucien’s place. That it was me chained to the floor. I deserved it.

I held my breath and shut my eyes as the girl finally reached for the third lever, bracing myself for what was surely to come.

Silence. Then–a sigh. From Lucien.

I opened my eyes at the sound and choked down the sob building in my chest. The girl, Feyre, had actually done it. By dumb luck or fate, she had saved them both.

I did not stay to witness Amarantha’s reaction to the girl besting her once more. Could not stand to be there a minute longer. I turned, not seeing any of the faces around me, desperate to escape the swirl of both panic and relief pressing in on me, threatening to swallow me whole. I could not fall apart, not here.

I stumbled away to the back of the throne room and kept walking until I was alone in a darkened passageway, the sounds of jeering and wicked laughter slowly disappearing. I leaned heavily against the nearest wall and emptied the contents of my stomach onto the floor. My eyes and throat burned and I let out the broken sob I had been holding in. I would allow myself one minute to fall apart, away from prying eyes. Just one minute, and then I would return to join in the merriment of those who had cheered as my brother had nearly been killed again.

I breathed in the damp, cold air of the mountain, my body shaking silently as I sunk to my knees. I listened to the drip, drip, drip of water on the stone floor and used it to slow my quaking heart. When the minute was up, I stood. Tunneled deep down inside until I could barely feel the rage and sorrow. I brought the smirk back to my mouth–it was second nature after all these years. I took one last deep breath, and turned back the way I had come. I had been gone too long, and these caves had eyes and ears that were always watching, always listening–always reporting back to her. And though Autumn Court fire burned in my veins, I forced my heart to freeze over, as cold as Kallias’s ice. I let that ice flow through me as I walked back–as I blocked out the despair that fought to drown me with every step I took. Until I was no one, and nothing.

---------------------------------------------------------

A small part of me was aware that I was in shock. I drifted through the following day as if underwater, not fully hearing the words spoken to me or how I responded. Through it all, I made sure to keep the haughty mask on my face. Only when I spotted Lucien across the room did I feel as if I had come up briefly for air. Our eyes locked, and Lucien’s mouth tightened in displeasure. He held my gaze, emotion flickering in his right eye–there and then gone before I could decipher it. After a beat he looked away and was promptly swallowed up by the crowd.

I knew Lucien despised me. It was written on his face whenever he deigned to look me in the eyes, and I let him believe I felt the same. As much as it pained me to do so, I treated him as if he were nothing to me, no more than trash to be discarded. I hated myself more with each passing day–was at risk of being consumed by it entirely and slipping deep into the burning pit of fire within me. It was sheer defiance against the bitch queen that prevented me from doing so. The hope that I might one day see Autumn again. So many years trapped down in the dark were wearing heavy on my soul. The steady fear that I would fail those I sought to protect slowly ate away at me. What I’d give to breathe in the crisp, cool air of home, to walk amongst the red and gold leaves that sparkled like jewels in the dawn light. I held on to the hope that I would one day return. Tucked it deep down inside where it flickered softly, the aching pain in my heart its only companion.

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lilac-witch · 3 months

Text

Main Masterlist

ACOTAR

Azriel Masterlist

Cassian Masterlist

Rhysand Masterlist

Helion Masterlist

Eris Vanserra Masterlist

Crescent City

Ruhn Danaan Masterlist

Hunt Athalar Masterlist

#masterlist #oneshot #azriel #acotar #crescent city #throne of glass #cassian #helion #ruhn danaan #tarquin #hunt athalar #eris vanserra

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dawneternal · 1 month

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constructive criticism welcome but pls be kind

🩷 - fluff

❤️‍🔥 - smut

🌧️ - angst

🏳️‍🌈 - queer

✎ Take the World in Your Hands🩷🌧️❤️‍🔥

Eris x Elain crackship, 12 parts, completed

✎ Just a Favor🩷❤️‍🔥

Gwyn x Azriel, ongoing

✎ The Only Exception 🩷🌧️

Gwyn x Azriel, Modern AU, ongoing

✎ Hespera

A collection dedicated to Rhysand's little sister, ongoing

✎ The Benevolent

Eris x Dawn Court Healer OC, ongoing

✎ I Have Loved You for the Last Time 🌧️🏳️‍🌈

Sad Eris Vanserra oneshot.

✎ A Court of Mischief and Matchmaking

The inner circle plays spin the bottle

✎ Starfall Guest

Starfall week 2024 submission | Azriel x OC

#masterlist #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #aboggoblin #gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #acotar oneshot #eris vanserra

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olive-main · 2 months

Text

Fandom List

A/N: I FINALLY updated my fandom list - I won’t be listing specific characters since most of them have so many. Of course, I write for the more popular/well-known characters but if you’re unsure don’t be afraid to ask :) As always my DMs are open. (Not just for requests, but to talk about anything related to the fandoms listed!)

Requests: Sometimes I may take a while to answer or post requests. I’m a college student, and work full time. So please bare with me…😔

Key: Fluff (🧸) Smut (💋) Angst (🪦)

☆———————————————☆——————————————☆

ACOTAR (SJM Universe)

Fourth Wing

Baldurs Gate 3

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Harry Potter

TVD

☆———————————————☆——————————————☆

Any toxicity or hate towards characters will result in being blocked. Criticism and discussions are welcome, disrespect is not. They’re fictional, and everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

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separatist-apologist · 1 year

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I Want To Brainwash You Into Loving Me Forever

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing

Summary: The newly crowned High Lord of Autumn receives a familiar visitor- one he's sworn to punish, should they ever be caught trespassing again.

Note: Happy holidays! This is a gift for the incredibly lovely @iftheshoef1tz. She has written the absolute MASTERPIECE that is Our Bodies, Possessed By Light. I could, in my wildest dreams, only ever put together something even half that gorgeous. If you've never read it, there is no time like now to start.

She is also the person who sent me this prompt for Azris, a pairing I never thought I'd write. The prompt was this piece of dialogue, "Oh, darling, if only I could love you." When I first wrote it, there was no smut, only feelings.

I hope I made you proud

Read on AO3

“Everybody out!”

Eris Vanserra didn’t move as his court turned their backs to him, filing out of the open throne room until only one male remained. Eris, sprawled over his throne, one leg dangling over the arm as he examined the silver rings on his fingers, pretended his heart wasn’t leaping in his throat.

“Close the door,” he added to the sentries, curious as to what their High Lord meant to do with the Shadowsinger from Night Court. Eris himself wished he knew. Azriel was technically banished from his woods, and smart enough to keep himself from being noticed if he wanted.

And there he stood, arms crossed over his powerful chest, wings tucked tight behind him. Hazel eyes bore into Eris’s face with open accusation.

“And see yourself out when you’re done,” Eris called. He would have no witness to whatever was waiting for him. A fight if he had to guess—one he didn’t want his court to hear word for word. Eris watched those golden doors slam shut, listening for the fading steps down the wood halls of the Forest House.

And then they were alone. Eris couldn’t avoid looking at the male at the very end of the room, veiled in shadow from the dying light pouring through the windows–not counting his own, swirling around him like a hazy fog.

“I warned you,” Eris said, forcing a lazy grin on his face. It was for your protection, he wanted to add, though he didn’t dare say it. After all, he’d succeeded, hadn’t he? Beron was dead and he was High Lord. He wore the crown of burnished leaves against his brow, reminding him of everything he’d gained.

And everything he could not have.

Azriel remained silent, his gaze piercing a hole in his still wounded chest. A hundred stolen moments over the course of a decade flooded like a torrent through Eris’s mind. He’d made no promises and when the time came, had been quick to sever all ties between them.

Some things were more difficult to break.

“The punishment for walking the Autumn woods is death, you know.” He wanted to provoke a reaction so badly he would have said anything. Azriel’s silence was a blade to his heart, an ash arrow in his throat. Riling Azriel up had always been the easiest way to force the male to talk to him, even if it was punctuated with Azriels hand around his throat, and Eris’s blood between his teeth.

Azriel yielded one step. “Shall I get on my knees, lord?” he mocked. Hurt and anger flashed through Eris in equal, burning measure. He swung his leg over the arm of the throne, resting his elbows on his thighs.

“What is it that you want, Azriel?”

Eris, of course, has heard rumors of how Azriel has been spending his time. Lucien, irritated and jealous, had made mention of his own mate and the male he believed haunted her steps. The thought of Azriel with anyone else filled Eris with misery more often than he was willing to admit. Of course Azriel would move on—would forget him entirely.

Just as everyone always had. Eris expected Azriel to rub it in his face, to slap a cold grin on his face as he detailed for Eris just how little their time together meant. All of Eris’s worst fears seemed to manifest when Azriel’s wings flared. One scarred hand, illuminated in the blue of his siphon, reached for the blade at his back. Not truth teller, still strapped to his powerful thigh, but his Illyrian sword. Azriel pulled the entire thing smoothly from between his shoulders, not drawing the steel. Eris tensed.

Azriel threw it at his feet, the weapon sliding over the smooth floor to rest at the very bottom of the steps of the dais Eris rested atop of.

“High Lord,” Azriel murmured, sweeping into a bow that saw one of his muscular knees touch the floor. Deference.

Respect.

Love.

Eris clenched his fists to keep himself from rising to his feet. The sight of the male he loved bowing before him—swearing his fealty—was too much. Eris had no road map for this sort of unguarded, if not careful affection. How long had Azriel practiced this moment? Run it over in his head, imagining every possible scenario. Every outcome?

Surely he must have known what was coming.

Azriel pressed his palm to the floor, a lock of his inky black hair falling into near-gold hazel eyes. Eris was certain he’d never seen anything more magnificent in his life and yet he forced himself to pretend he was unaffected.

“Is this a confession?”

His words dripped with condescension. He could feel Azriel’s temper rise, creating static in the air between them. Eris wished he could make things easy, that he could just admit the truth.

I’m afraid.

I love you.

“You know how I feel,” Azriel said, his dark voice rich with promise. Eris could not suppress the shiver that raced up his spine. His body went taut, pulled by that golden thread he had spent so many years denying existed. He rose to his feet, each step down to the floor seemingly endless. He went to Azriel, still on his knees, well aware a better male would have kissed his mate.

Eris crouched, his heart racing as the scent of Azriel rolled over him. It had been so long since he’d scented night chilled mist and cedar, since he’d touched the rough stubble of Azriels jaw. He couldn’t help but hook his finger under Azriel’s chin, listening to their hearts sync.

“Oh darling, if only I could love you.”

Azriel’s eyes flashed, his nostrils flaring. One scarred hand shot out, grasping Eris by his hair. Azriel pulled tightly, drawing him closer, until their noses brushed.

“You’re still a coward,” Azriel accused, his breath fanning over Eris’s face.

“You should love someone else,” Eris replied, unable to keep his own insecurities from his voice. It had always been that way. That mask was glued to his face until Azriel stepped into the room.

As it stood, it lay shattered to pieces between their bodies. Azriel twisted his fist into Eris’s hair until Eris reached for one of the crisscrossing straps over Azriel’s armor and yanked him closer.

It was a bruising kiss. Frantic and hungry and filled with all the things neither of them could make themselves say.

I’m sorry.

I missed you.

Stay with me.

Azriels grip didn’t loosen, as if he knew the minute he let Eris go the spell might shatter and Eris would send him away again. Another five years in purgatory, looking for glimpses of the other when their two courts met while pretending they didn’t care at all. Eris too often woke at night tangled in his bedsheets, hands desperately seeking the silken touch of Azriel’s wings. Wishing for rough, calloused hands sliding down his naked chest.

“I’m not leaving,” Azriel growled, his teeth nipping roughly against Eris’s bottom lip. “I don’t give a fuck about your laws.”

“What about—” Azriel’s tongue silenced him, delving into his mouth with such heat that Eris found he didn’t particularly care what Rhysand thought anymore. Eris felt frantic as Azriel’s words washed over him.

I’m not leaving.

Eris didn’t know what to do, what to say. He could only kiss his mate and hope Azriel understood. That the things that had always kept them together explained away his cruelty. Beron would have ripped Azriel’s wings from his back, and would have pulled the magnificent male apart like an obnoxious moth while Eris had been forced to watch.

And in the aftermath of what he’d done to secure his crown, his throne, he’d felt unworthy of something as rare as a mate. Azriel had seemed content and Eris had almost convinced himself they were better off apart. That being together would only ruin them both.

But there, one arm around Azriel’s neck, his hand dragging through the shtick strands of his hair, Eris felt stupid.

“There you are,” Azriel breathed, pulling away with bruised lips to look at Eris. Eris gripped Azriel’s face, touching foreheads until they shared a breath.

“If you were smart, you’d reject this bond,” Eris made himself say, each word gravel in his mouth.

Azriel didn’t smile. “I am well aware of your opinion regarding my intelligence.”

Eris swallowed hard, gripping Azriel for dear life. His thumbs swept over bronzed cheeks, eyes searching his mates. “Stay with me.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of their combined hearts. Azriel had already said he was staying, and yet Eris needed to hear it again. On his knees, no longer the High Lord but just a male in love, he needed to hear Azriel say it again.

And again.

Every day until he drew his very last breath.

“You first,” Azriel ordered roughly, his breath catching in his throat. Eris knew what he wanted to hear. The very words Eris had refused to ever say out loud, had denied even to himself save in the darkest parts of his mind no one could reach.

“I love you.”

Azriel’s eyes rolled upwards, lashes fluttering ever so slightly. Eris brought his face closer, pressing a kiss to each cheek with all the softness he could muster. It wasn’t much—he’d never be a gentle, soft sort of male.

He didn’t think Azriel wanted that.

“I’m not leaving you. Ever,” Azriel added with a ringing finality. Eris’s mind raced with possibilities. Where Azriel would fit, what role he might occupy. It was terrifying to lay himself bare before so many, to announce to the world this male was his only weakness in the world.

And not having him was infinitely worse.

Eris forced himself to take a breath. He was High Lord. Autumn would bend to his will or they would join the rot in the woods.

“Good.”

He rose to his feet, bringing Azriel with him with a tightly clasped hand. There was no hesitation, no moment of uncertainty. Just them, connected by the golden thread of fate.

And for the first time in Eris’s life, he felt like he could breathe again.

Opening the doors to their tightly held sanctuary was another matter entirely. Eris’s fingers trembled on the cool metal, though he wrenched them open with cool abandon. Beside him, Azriel resituated his blade with clear eyes, his wings tucked tight against his back.

He knew, and it filled Eris with a strange sense of shame. He was supposed to protect his mate—and he couldn’t do that if he was afraid. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Azriel his fears, to lay them at his feet and see what Azriel made of them.

What Azriel truly made of him.

But the doors were opened, and though Eris had ordered everyone out, a surge of courtiers stepped from the shadows, eyes wide when they saw the living Shadowsinger. Eris knew they’d been hoping to see blood, or perhaps wings peeled from Azriel’s back. Some gruesome display to prove the superiority of their High Lord.

Eris’s temper flared. “I don’t recall asking for an audience,” he said, his voice betraying his fury. Beside him, Azriel had gone wholly still, waiting for a command like a well-trained dog.

“Lord,” heads bowed in deference as unease spread through the hall like a disease. Someone was going to die—they hoped it would be the interloper, but if his courtiers wanted to mop up blood, theirs was just as easy to spill. “Our laws—”

“Are you offering me advice?” Eris asked, his voice little more than a whisper. “Or telling me how my late father would have handled such matters?”

Azriel recognized the cruel cut of Eris’s words. Eris felt Azriel’s fingers brush along the back of his hand, unseen by those crowding them. It was a quiet question—let me do this for you.

Eris slid his pinky against Azriel's, silent permission for the silent offer.

“If we do not teach these lesser bastards their place—” Azriel’s sword was in the male's neck before he managed to finish the offense. The spilling blood didn’t stop Eris from stepping forward, staining his books to lean in close. “What was that?” Eris asked, drinking in the dying light from the choking male. Azriel had pinned him by the throat like a moth to a corkboard, his body sagging against the dark, wooden wall.

“Lesser bastards, was it?” Eris repeated, cocking his head as though he expected a response. Only the gurgling rattle of death punctuated the silence. Azriel pulled back his blade, using the fine fabric of a dying man to wipe it before he resheathed.

Eris turned, sweeping his gaze over those who remained. Their fear was intoxicating, mingling with his own. This, he decided, was his declaration. He would need no other pretty, poetic words or otherwise written treatises on Azriel’s presence in his court.

Eris gave the order and Azriel would enforce it with brutal, unfeeling efficiency. Eris felt the spooling tension unknot from his chest and took a step. And then another.

“I believe I told you to leave.”

There were no further protests. Bodies scattered down the hall, vanishing behind closed doors and winding corridors to spread the news. Eris waited until they were alone, left only with one cooling corpse, to resume his attention.

“This way,” he murmured, nodding for Azriel to follow. Never had he ever dared to bring Azriel to his home, let alone to his chambers. They’d met more often in Velaris, hidden in the inky darkness, though there had been days in an overrun Spring Court forest and a weekend half hidden on a Summer Court barge.

Opening his own doors was far more intimate. A welcoming of sorts, to the place Azriel might choose to live at least most of the time. Eris had no illusion that Azriel would abandon his friends and the people he called brothers.

He did believe Azriel when he’d gotten on his knees and sworn his fealty, that he meant to promise his loyalty to Eris above all else. He could share, he told himself rationally. He could let Azriel move through the world on his own terms, so long as it was Eris he came home to.

“Come here,” Azriel breathed, gripping Eris by the neck. Eris had only just locked the door when he was pushed against it. Azriel ground himself against Eris, letting Eris feel the heady proof of Azriel’s need. “You know I—”

Eris knew exactly what Azriel was going to say. That he loved when Eris was brutal, when he was cold. When only Azriel was allowed to see the warmth that lay beneath the ice. They were the exact same in that regard, impenetrable until they were around each other.

Eris opened himself, the kiss between them rough and inelegant. Azriel always had preferred passion to function which, at first, had frustrated Eris to no end. He’d grown to appreciate Azriel’s disregard for performance, how he gave himself over to base need without an ounce of insecurity. No barriers, no pretense.

Only them.

Eris pushed Azriel back, still open-mouthed kissing. He needed to get his mate to the bed and away from the walls. He was warded well enough, and knew anyone with their ears to the door would hear the frantic sounds of pulling buckles and laces. They’d hear the soft moan of pleasure from Azriel when Eris’s hand slipped between his legs, cupping the hard, thick length of him.

It was one thing to know Azriel served him.

It was another to know just how well.

Eris managed to get the too-tight Illryian leather from Azriel first, well aware his mate had never been one for all the buttons on Eris’s jacket. The moment Eris’s flame-warmed hands slid down the carved muscle of Azriel’s skin there was the distinct sound of fine fabric ripping.

“You’re a brute,” Eris groaned, nipping his teeth along Azriel’s stubbled neck.

“Shut up,” Azriel replied, clearly delighted with the sight of Eris’s shredded, silken clothes fluttering to the floor. Chest to bare chest, Eris finally managed to shove Azriel back on a large bed draped in gold and orange. Azriel fell backward with a soft breath, reaching for Eris before Eris could reach for his laces and free him entirely. It had been too long and Eris found himself all but writhing as he came astride his mate, the pair scrambling up the bed desperately for hungry, frantic kisses.

Azriel’s fingers tangled in Eris’s hair, pulling hard enough that Eris moaned in Azriel’s mouth. Azriel merely swallowed the sound, tongue sliding against Eris’s for taste after taste. It was as if he, too, had been emptied hollow without Eris, that the suffering Eris felt without Azriel was not one-sided.

Azriel’s fingers found Eris’s pants, having so thoroughly distracted him. “I need to taste you,” Azriel groaned, lips gliding down Eris’s arched neck. Eris found himself on his back, legs spread as Azriel trailed his tongue over his collarbone, his chest, his navel. Eris lifted his hips, eyes flashing a warning when his lower half was quickly divested of every stitch of clothing. All Eris had was his ringed fingers and his fear.

“You,” Eris ordered, his voice too breathless to be considered truly authoritative. Still, Azriel nodded only once, a lock of dark hair flopping into his burning eyes. He stood, hands reaching slowly for his waist, and then he, too, was bared for Eris’s hungry gaze.

Eris wanted to crawl. Wanted to lick Azriel’s carved chest, to leave sucking bruises against the deep vee on either side of his hips. Eris wanted to swallow the salted musk of Azriel’s cock until Azriel whimpered, begging for relief.

Azriel was back over him before Eris could make good on his thoughts. There was no space between them, their skin pressed so tight not even the spooling darkness that trailed Azriel could have slipped between.

“Eris,” Azriel breathed, rubbing himself like a cat in heat against Eris’s over warm body. Now it was Eris’s turn to grip Azriel by the neck, to silence him with his lips and tongue and teeth. With his free hand, he reached for their touching, grinding cocks and applied pressure with his fingers.

Azriel’s moan was music. Eris stroked the pair of them again, evenly matched in his broad hand. The combined moisture beading on their cocks only drove Eris upwards, desperate to hear another pleasured sound rip from Azriel’s throat. He needed more of the heady pleasure spooling through the pair of them more than he needed Azriel’s mouth on his cock.

Eris pushed, rolling them over so he straddled Azriel’s waist. Azriel responded with a soft growl, teeth sinking against Eris’s lip until they tasted warm blood.

“Is this what you want?” Eris whispered, holding the pair of them in his hand. Azriel watched with dark eyes, his spine arching off the bed when Eris stroked. Lips parted, exhaling softly as Eris ran his thumb over Azriel’s slit, teasing the sensitive flesh.

“I want to taste you,” Azriel repeated, his voice guttural with its need. He rose up on powerful elbows to punctuate his point and Eris was so tempted to crawl up his body and press his aching cock against Azriel’s wet mouth. Eris stroked again, trying to convince his worthless mind to make a decision.

“You want to supplicate yourself before me?” he taunted,

Azriel’s fingers dug into Eris’s hips, bruising as he yanked Eris closer. “Your games aren’t half as amusing as you imagine.”

“I like you like this,” Eris admitted, cupping Azriel’s jaw. For a moment he could pretend this was a mere act of intimacy and he wasn’t going to beg Azriel to fuck him when this was all over. Just them, holding eyes—taking the time once denied them by force.

And then Azriel was tugging again, urging Eris to use him as he so often had. Eris took himself in his hand, rubbing the messy tip of his cock against the soft skin of Azriel’s lips. It was impossible to tell if it was his come or Azriel’s smeared over his skin, and doubted very much that Azriel cared one way or the other.

Azriel’s mouth opened, tongue sliding forward and Eris pushed himself against the slick, wet slide. He groaned, tugging Azriel’s hair to pull his head forward. Azriel never took his eyes off Eris, content to let Eris take what he needed.

Eris paused when he was halfway down Azriel’s throat, the blunt head of his cock pressed against muscle. Azriel could take more, and yet Eris was taken aback by the sheer loveliness of the male beneath him. Wings played darkly, mouth open, hands ghosting Eris’s hips. Eris stroked Azriel’s cheek again, forcing himself to say the words he’d longed denied.

“I love you.”

Azriel fully wrapped his lips around the aching hardness of Eris’s cock, taking more of him with ease. A puff of air pushed itself from Eris’s chest, forced by the sheer, incandescent pleasure of being swallowed by his mate. Eris clung to Azriel’s hair, setting a slow pace in an effort to prolong his pleasure.

“Fuck,” Eris breathed, unable to call up more sophisticated language. He could see the bright spark of amusement in Azriel’s eyes—he always had enjoyed bringing Eris low. Sometimes thought Eris was no better than the accusations he’d leveled at Azriel. If his mate was a brute, well, perhaps he was, too.

Eris certainly wanted no part of a hierarchy in which he was considered above Azriel. They were the same, only made of different rock that, when polished, had a wholly different shine. The edges were still sharp, could still be wielded like a blade.

Eris pushed deeper, moaning when he heard Azriel gag around him. The vibrations made his erection pulsate, drawing Eris’s release closer.

“Up,” Eris said, pulling himself with an immense effort from Azriel’s mouth. “I need…”

Azriel’s look was pure exasperation. But he knew what Eris needed. Knew, better than anyone what it was that Eris wanted. He’d known when he walked into the throne room and he knew right then as he pushed Eris from his body, letting the male fall to his side so he could rise upwards.

“On the floor, or will the bed suffice?” Azriel asked dryly. Eris, with a twitch, leaking cock, gestured at the floor. It required the two of them to stand, brutally naked males with heaving chests, eyeing the other mere inches apart. Eris slid his hand down Azriel’s toned midsection, dragging fingers through the bead of precum for a taste.

“We could be fucking right now,” Azriel growled, grabbing Eris by the hair for a messy, passionate kiss. Eris gripped Azriel’s jaw, tasting his own salt against the sweetness in Azriel’s mouth. “You’re so dramatic.”

Dramatic or not, Azriel still bent to Eris’s desire. Falling slowly to his knees like every fantasy Eris had ever had, he gripped Eris’s straining cock in his hand.

“My High Lord,” Azriel murmured, his breath fanning over Eris’s skin. He nearly came from the sight, from the aroused reverence in Azriel’s voice. “My Eris.”

“Gods, Azriel, please—”

Azriel put Eris out of his misery, swallowing him smoothly before Eris could ruin the moment any further with his begging. Eris threaded his fingers through Azriels thick, dark hair, pushing himself further into the ringed muscles of Azriel’s wet throat—until he felt Azriel’s nose brush the copper hair of his navel.

Azriel gagged and Eris released, well aware he was not going to last. Threads of saliva came back with Azriel’s mouth, dragging like an iridescent rainbow over Azriel’s lips. Eris’s thighs trembled, his sac tightening at the sight.

“Az, I—”

Azriel didn’t relent, his tongue swirling the head of Eris’s needy cock before he took Eris again, tears blurring his hazel eyes. Release coiled through Eris hotter than he could ever recall, and when he felt Azriel’s hand reach behind him and merely stroke the puckered hole of his ass, Eris jerked, spending himself roughly into Azriel’s throat.

Azriel, as he always did, took all of it without complaint, freeing Eris with a wet pop. Eris had to catch his breath while Azriel wiped his hands and eyes with a scarred hand, amusement blazing over his features.

“Am I allowed to fuck my mate, now?” Azriel asked, rising slowly to his feet. The sight was enough to make Eris a religious male. “Or does he want to fuck me?”

Eris wanted both. He would have both, but right then what he needed was the feel of Azriel’s salt-soaked skin against his own. They collided all over again, with Eris yielding so Azriel could turn him and push his knees against the bed frame. Eris went willingly, arching his back into Azriel’s chest while twisting for another hungry kiss.

“Don’t be gentle,” Eris ordered, controlling until the last. As if Azriel would ever be such a thing. It was worth saying, given how the two had little moments of sentimentality that too often slipped into their lovemaking. There was no need—not anymore. Eris would give up Azriel over his own rotting corpse, and not a moment before.

They had time. As Eris relaxed himself, gripping the bedsheets while his mate lubricated his cock, Eris felt almost giddy at the prospect. A near eternity was penance for the decades apart. The suffering Eris meant to repay in spades, starting with the brutal scars on his mate's hands. He’d work his way forward from there, punishing each mark, every bruise, and the lingering wounds still etched not just in Azriel’s golden skin, but his very soul, if he had to.

There could be nothing else.

His thoughts were chased off by Azriel’s slippery fingers, sinking into him slowly. One, and then two, and then a third all worked themselves inside him, oiling his body while the other hand slid up and down his spine. Eris shuddered, craning his neck for another kiss.

“Was there anyone else?” Azriel asked, eyes finding Eris’s. “Between now and…”

“No,” Eris replied, unashamed. “There was never anyone else. Only you.”

Pumping fingers vanished, replaced by the press of the heavy crown of Azriel’s cock. Eris felt the breath punch from his lungs, his whole body tight at the prospect. It had been so long since he’d let Azriel have this—since he’d wholly yielded himself, and allowed himself to trust.

Trust that Azriel wouldn’t harm him. That he could be beneath another person, that he didn’t always need to cling so tight to his control. It was a hard-fought battle, won by Azriel’s near boundless patience. They’d stop if it was too much, and Azriel would flip over, his eyes silently saying, I can do it, too. You don’t scare me.

But Azriel had always scared Eris, and the depth of feeling between them even more so. Even then, with that inching push, Eris felt the urge to end it all. To lay Azriel out and order him to do exactly as he said. Too much, it’s too much—

And not enough. “Relax,” Azriel whispered, kissing the side of Eris’s jaw. “You’re so good like this. Relax for me.”

And Eris did, sinking into the touch, into the feel of Azriel’s gentle slide into his body even when he’d demanded the male be rough. Pushing against the bed with his palms, Eris claimed a slow, unhurried kiss. Arousal began to stir through him again, shuddering against his already spent cock for a second time. Eris wondered if it was the beginnings of the frenzy or merely his own lust. He was well aware he had the best-looking male for a mate in all of Prythian, after all. Azriel’s face alone was enough to keep anyone hard.

“Az,” Eris breathed, falling into the rarely used nickname. He knew Azriel liked it, like when he was formal—casual. Behind him, he felt Azriel press his forehead against Eris’s shoulder blades, breathing roughly.

“Yes,” Azriel panted, seating himself wholly in Eris’s body. Eris had forgotten the stretch of accommodating Azriel, of how full he felt. Eris squeezed himself around Azriel, kissing up and down Azriel’s arm.

“What did I say about being gentle?” Eris asked. There was no bite to his words.

“Shut the fuck up,” Azriel replied with a huff of laughter. “Shut your fucking mouth, Eris.”

Eris squeezed again, delighted to hear the laugh slip into a soft moan of appreciation. “Why don’t you fucking make me.”

Azriel responded just as Eris hoped, drawing himself out only to push roughly back in. They moaned in time as combined pleasure spooled between them. Azriel’s fingers wound through Eris’s hair, pulling roughly.

“Tell me you missed me,” Azriel demanded, each word punctuated by another vicious thrust of his thick, aching cock. Eris’s eyes rolled upwards into his skull, his own cock erect and pressed against the mattress of the bed. “Tell me you missed me as much as I missed you.”

“More,” Eris panted, certain it must be true.

Azriel’s teeth grazed just beneath his earlobe. “I doubt it.” Eris couldn’t help the whimper of need that escaped him, nor could he stop his own hand from gripping his cock, stroking his skin as Azriel continued to pump in and out of his body. He was mindless, a creature wholly devoted to the male behind him and their combined pleasure. For a moment there was no sound but their combined, synced hearts and the constant meeting of their slick flesh.

A moan slipped from Azriel, unleashed and desperate. He was close and Eris wished he could watch. He twisted, his own hand speeding, to catch the lust-hazed hazel eyes staring back at him. Eris couldn’t help himself. “You’re beautiful,” he said, lips slotting between Azriels. Taste him, his senses called, demanding satisfaction. Eris was going to come all over the side of the bed, all over his hand, his body. He could feel it building just as surely as Azriels’s own release, if Azriel’s trembling legs and rapidly speeding hips were any indication.

“Az,” Eris breathed, the rest of his plea swallowed by Azriel’s greedy lips. Their tongues collided, tasting and teasing and Eris found it was all too much. He groaned, fingers practically bruising his cock beneath their grip as he came—the very moment Azriel pushed his slick cock in deeper, spending himself with a grunt into Eris’s body.

It was a mad scramble for the bed without wholly leaving the other. Eris knew they were making a mess of the sheets and didn’t care, pulling Azriel against his body, head tucked just beneath his chin. Eris hooked a leg around Azriel’s hip, murmuring, “Leave it,” when his mate tried to go to the bathroom for a rag.

It could all wait. Azriel pressed a kiss to his pectoral, fingers sliding up and down Eris’s stomach. For a moment, Eris felt a sliver of panic. They’d never been allowed so much in the space of so little. Eris was used to fear, his eyes tracking for the door where at any minute, Beron Vanserra might burst in and ruin the fragile peace simmering between them.

Another kiss calmed him. “Nothing has to be decided today,” Azriel whispered, steady as always.

Eris forced himself to take a breath. “I love you,” he said instead. That was unchanged. Would never change. He felt a smile spread over Azriel’s lips, pressed now into his shoulder.

“I know you do,” Azriel said, his words soothing Eris’s inflamed soul. “As I love you.”

Eris pressed a kiss into Azriel’s sweat-damp hair. “Mate,” he breathed, drinking in the scent.

Azriel’s fingers tightened around his ribs. “Mate.”

#azris #azriel #eris vanserra #turning my little drabble into a 5k oneshot??#more likely thank you think

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milswrites · 1 month

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The Fox and the Hound

Eris Vanserra X Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Eris through the years, seen through the life of the hound he gifted you when you first began courting.

Warnings: A mix of fluff and angst. Mentions of sex. Mentions of violence/threats. Mentions of injury. Death of pet but a sweet ending.

The First meeting.

There was something sweet about your first meeting. Perhaps it was the shyness that radiated from the two of you, the soft blush which dusted across your cheeks and the way Eris clenched his sweaty palms into fists in an attempt to hide his anxiety.

The two you, whist grown adults, held the charm of two children with an innocent crush. You sat across from each other, curious eyes meeting curious eyes as your fathers discussed the terms of the betrothal. Anticipation sparking in each of your chests at the possibility that this arrangement may not be as terrible as you had first expected.

It took hours.

Hour after hour of dull, monotonous discussion. Each father trying their best to squeeze every ounce of benefit that they could from this deal. It was an arduous process. One that both you and Eris shared no interest in. Deaf to the conversation happening around you, eyes never leaving the others.

Your own wordless conversation flowing naturally, an automatic understanding settling between the two. Almost as if you were both speaking your own language, one known only by the pair of you. A level of synchronicity between you as you exchanged greetings and compliments through the glistening of your eager eyes and the soft smirks which formed upon your tender lips.

Eris needn't say a word to convey the message he was trying to send. It was an invitation. A plea for the two of you to escape the draining presence of your fathers. A subtle suggestion to leave the room so he could hear the sweet tones of your voice for the first time.

Whether or not your fathers noted the rushed manner of the way you stood, excusing yourselves from the rest of the meeting, they did not let on. The two alpha males still locked in a daring battle, both seeking more and more from the other. It made it all too easy for you and Eris to slip from the room unnoticed.

Giggling alongside each other as you fled from the scene. The Autumn Prince flashed you a charming smile as he held out an arm for you to take. Enabling him to lead you alongside him until you had exited the Forest House. The male leading you towards an outbuilding, the building from which a cacophony of barks and growls sounded from.

"This isn't where you tell me that I'm not actually a bride. That this whole agreement was just so you could have some poor innocent damsel to feed to your dogs?"

Eris smiled at your joke, at the way you had failed to hide the anxiety which laced your voice. He continued to lead you towards the kennels, bringing his free hand to comfortingly rest against yours which was wrapped around his bicep.

"They're hounds," he corrected, a cocky smirk finding its home on his handsome face, "And I wouldn't dare feed them someone as pretty as you. It would be such a waste of beauty."

It was impossible to hide the deep red blush which flourished on your cheeks, eyes nervously attempting to avoid the intensity of his admiring gaze.

Trying to quell the rising heat in your face, you battled your flushed embarrassment with another joke, "Isn't it how a boy wastes his time? Playing with dogs...hounds?"

The two of you slowed your approach as you rounded on the solid oak doors. The heavy metal lock rattling with the force of the dogs pounding against the other side of the doors.

"I can assure you, my future bride, that my hounds are bred for far greater things than simply playing," he notes your fearful gulp as you flinch at a particular violent bang to the door, "And I can also tell you that my hounds are the finest in all of Prythian. You needn't worry, they wont hurt you. Not whilst I'm here."

You weren't sure whether it was the sincerity of his words or the confidence that welled in his amber eyes but you believed him. Finding yourself relaxing as he dropped your arm in order to unlock the door, satisfied that Eris would not allow any harm to befall you.

He twisted the key in the lock, dropping the heavy padlock and chains to the floor as he cast his gaze back to you, seeking some form of approval to reassure him that you were fine with this, allowing you to know that he would never force you into a situation that you didn’t want to be in.

Heart feeling full due to his compassion and thoughtfulness, you willed yourself to nod confidently. Determined that if Eris were to be your future husband and caring for his hounds were his passion, you would learn to love them in the same way the male did.

With a firm pull of the handle the door opened, hound after hound pouring out from the open doors. Each giddy pup jumping up to excitedly greet their master before a few brave ones curiously made their way over to you. Big noses snuffling at your feet, neglecting to jump at you in the way they did their master, no doubt sensing the remaining traces of fear which you had failed to flush from your system.

Opting to take the leap yourself, noting how Eris's searching eyes were observing the situation, whether to make sure his hounds didn't try anything or he was simply curious as to how you would react, you sunk to your knees on the ground in order to stroke the hounds which circled you.

A joyous laugh escaping from your lips as they saw your action as an invitation to huddle around you, overwhelming you with gentle licks and playful nibbles.

If only your father could see you now - you thought. Your pristine dress filthened by the damp ground you were knelt on, hands and arms covered in the slimy sheen of their saliva as they eagerly laid affectionate licks wherever they could.

Pleased, Eris contentedly watched the scene from where he was stood. Admiring the outpouring of love his usually reserved hounds were showing you. His heart told him that this was a sign from the mother, your already flourishing bond with his pups was surely an indication that the two of you were meant to be.

Only when their excitement of meeting a new person decreased, and the hounds had begun to wander off, inquisitive noses buried in the ground as they followed the trails of scents which interested them, did Eris then approach you.

Holding out a strong hand so he could help you up from where you were collapsed on the ground, the pups having knocked you onto your bottom from their enthusiasm.

"I'd say that went well" he mused, his amber gaze raking your body as he took in the little tears and muddied stains from your time on the ground, "You may need another dress though. Not to worry, I'll make sure you have plenty of those as my wife."

Thrilled with the child-like excitement that being surrounded by his dogs had brought you, you exclaimed, "Oh Eris they're amazing. Can we come here every day?"

"Every hour if that is what you wished," he smiled. Eris nodded his head towards the open kennels, beginning to drag you towards the building, "Come on there's something I want to show you."

The two of you made your way into the empty kennels, your curious eyes taking in your surroundings as you wonder what it is exactly that Eris wanted to show you. The answer becoming clear as he pulled you to a stop at a large doghouse, bending down to peer inside. "Here" he whispered quietly, gesturing you to drop down to the same level.

You bent down next to him, squinting through the opening of the house, trying to make out the figures which wriggled in the darkness. Before your eyes could even focus, one of said figures bounded out from where it was hidden and flopped into your lap.

You cast your gaze downwards, eyes blowing wide with awe at the sight of the small puppy which was digging into your lap in an attempt to seek some warmth.

A cry broke from your lips, a sound of appreciation, lip pouting as you brushed a gentle finger along it's tiny head. Eyes beginning to water at the sheer cuteness of the creature before you.

"You like her?" Eris asked, his own hand coming to lovingly rub at the scruffy patch of fur on the pup's head.

"Like her? I love her! Eris she's so sweet!"

"Good" he grinned, "Because she's yours. Consider it a betrothal gift."

You couldn't contain the squeal of happiness which broke from your lips, surprised eyes flashing to the male who was sat looking at you and the pup with unbridled joy.

"For me?" you asked in disbelief, of all the gifts you had ever received this by far had to be the best one.

"Well only if you want her. And she'll need training and walks. I'm not sure if you'd want her for hunting but I'm sure she'd be happy to keep you company whenever I'm gone. And she'll need a name of course."

"Darling" you answer immediately, there was no doubt in your heart that that was her name. For that was what she was, her little face, her small paws, her reddish coat. Every inch of her was darling.

"Darling is perfect" Eris agrees, his hand which had been brushing the pups head coming to hold your hand sweetly. This would be the first of what would be many affectionate touches in your relationship to come.

The night time cuddles - And a very jealous Eris.

It wasn't unusual for Eris to sneak into your bedroom to see you. Whilst you were betrothed, the rules of courting did not permit the two of you to be left unchaperoned in a room. Your father had made this point clear to you after discovering you alone with the Autumn prince in the kennels after he had gifted you Darling.

But Eris wasn't one to follow the rules.

He was constantly finding excuses as to why he urgently had to see you in your room. You left a hairpin at the breakfast table. You had forgotten to give him a review of the latest book you had finished. It slipped his mind earlier, when the two of you were sharing a supervised walk in the gardens of the Forest House, just how beautiful Eris thought you were in the new dress he had bought you.

Yet this, Eris appearing at your door, when the sun had already set and the moon was far into its nightly journey, was unusual.

Being caught alone together during the day was one thing - but at night? You shuddered at the thought of the punishment your father would deliver.

"Eris, what are you doing?" he hissed in a low whisper as the male pulled the door to after him.

"I haven't seen you today," he reasoned, hand coming to rest against your cheek as he absorbed the natural beauty of your tired features, "I'm sorry I was caught in meetings most of the day but I just had to see you before I went to bed."

That inescapable blush which appeared whenever you were around the Autumn prince burned your cheeks, a pleased smile making its way onto your lips at the thought of the male being unable to make it one day without your presence.

A stubborn nudge to his leg and an angry yelp had Eris removing his hand so he could bend down and greet a disgruntled Darling, "Yes, yes. I haven't forgotten about you sweetheart. Been behaving well for your mother?"

"Well I was sure it was the end for her today when she bit your brother when he came in for breakfast."

"Damnit" Eris smirked, his evil eyes flashing to your amused ones, "Why do I always miss the good things?"

"Hmm," you hummed in thought, "he seemed fairly convinced that you had been training her to do so."

If possible, his smirk grew even wider, "I have no idea what you mean."

You rolled your eyes at your future husband, retreating to your bed as you yawned at the lateness of the hour at which he had arrived.

"You can't be tired yet!" He argued, words filled with exasperation as Darling ran after you to chase you to the bed where you had laid down, "I just got here!"

"It's not my fault it's so late!" you fought back, gesturing to the window where the moon was high in the sky, "You could...I mean you'd have to be gone by morning of course…But if you wanted to?"

Your eyes flicker to the empty spot on the bed next you you before flashing back to Eris's. Hope flooding your pupils.

"I mean, I can't deny my future wife can I? I've heard terrifying stories about men who said no to their wives."

He obediently crawled onto the other half of your bed as he spoke. Making his way up the mattress until he was level with you.

"Perhaps..." he started, his lips dangerously close to yours, "Perhaps I can finally allow myself to feel the soft touch of your lips," his eyes flicker down to your body, "or feel the soothing heat from your bare skin. Maybe if I’m lucky I could hear your desperate cries as I make you call my name, over and over again."

Your breath caught in your throat, eager eyes boring into Eris's amber ones which were burning with lust. Releasing a shaky breath you cast them to his red lips, eyes beginning to close as you lean in.

Until the forceful shove of Darling tore the two of you apart. The small hound wriggling her way in-between the two of you, tail wagging ferociously with her desire for attention.

You laugh sweetly, hand coming to rub her ears as she happily burrowed against your body. Eris on the other hand, allowed his brows to knit together in a deep frown, his once puckered lips downturned at the sight before him.

"Sorry Eris," you giggled at his disappointment, "You are in Darling's spot and she had been in my bed many more times than you have."

His brows furrowed deeper, lips moving into a pout, "But she's had you all day! It's not fair!"

"I'm sorry dear," you shrugged, allowing your pup to dictate exactly what happens in your room, "Darling has spoken. It's ok, she gives great cuddles, I'm sure you'll sleep soundly."

Your words did nothing to improve the Prince's mood. In fact, the reminder that your pup had spent more hours nestled against you in a warming embrace than he has only made him more miserable.

"Maybe next time" you grinned, loving eyes focused on the now sleeping form of Darling.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you give better cuddles my Prince.”

The wedding.

You met in private. The two of you making your way to the old oak tree hidden in the security of the Autumn Court's forest. Lucien had joined you at Eris's request, the male trailing after you, a doting Darling close at his heels.

You had come to make your vows in your own terms. Neither you nor Eris wanting to share this moment with the thousands of uncaring guests Beron had invited to your wedding. Strangers who knew nothing about how deeply yours and Eris’s affection ran.

No, you wanted to exchange them in the privacy of each other's company, his brother joining as your witness. An eager Darling not wanting to miss out on the excitement.

So here you were, dressed in a simple white dress. Standing hand in hand with the male you had grown to love, covered by the shade of the oak tree.

"Well I can't say I've ever married someone before," Lucien stated as he scratched his red hair in thought, "I guess you just...say your vows?"

Eris rolled his eyes at his clueless brother, "You'd think when we asked you to do this you would have consulted a book brother or even a prince. Don’t you have plenty of them in the spring court?"

Knowing that the two males could spit retorts to each other for days on end, you made the easy decision of choosing to speak your vows first, "Alright. You guys can stop, I'll go first!"

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, worried that words could never do justice to the way you felt about Eris.

"Eris, I think I have loved you from the moment I met you. It wasn't hard, you make it so easy to be loved. You are not only the kindest male I have ever met, but the most thoughtful. Your compassion and the love you hold for everyone, and every thing, in your court is inspiring. And I am the luckiest woman alive to be blessed with your presence and the honour that I can soon call myself your wife. I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you and I promise that I will continue to do so until we're nothing but the ash remaining from the inferno that is our love."

Tears sparkled in Eris's eyes, his grip on your hands increasing in an attempt to ground himself. Even Lucien bore a soft grin at the sight before him, at the happiness that his brother had found for himself in you.

"And I, Little fox," Eris started, his voice cracking as he spoke, "I never thought I'd be lucky enough to deserve a life like this. I've always assumed I was just like my father and was resigned to a life just as miserable as his. But being here, being with you, I know I can allow myself to feel as though I've earned this. Earnt your love. And I will spend the rest of my days proving to you just how devoted I am, just how much I was made for you as you were made for me. You are my other half. My beginning and my end. And I love you."

You choked back a gleeful sob, your own eyes glistening with tears as the two of you looked to Lucien expenctantly.

"What?...Oh! Oh right. You, uh, you many kiss the bride."

And Eris did just that. Connecting his lips with yours. His shuddering breath meeting your lips as he sealed his against yours. Moving them against each other in a passionate dance, arms flying around each other's body in search of some support. The two of you getting lost in the moment, losing yourselves in the heat of your embrace, acting as though it was just the two of you, locked in this scene for an eternity.

Until there was a rude awakening in the form of Darling leaping up at you. Her muddy paws leaving streaks of dirt down your pure white fabric of your dress. Reluctantly pulling away from Eris, you bobbed down to give her a loving stroke, pleased that she got to share in the moment with you. She was a part of your family after all.

Lucien, red-faced and blushing, broke the silence, "I guess I'm looking after her tonight then?"

"Yes!" You and Eris eagerly replied in glee.

The intruder

It was late. The world was sleeping along with the sun. Eris was away, visiting another court. Which led you to where you were now, sound asleep in your joint chambers, Darling cuddled up against your body. The two of you breathing deeply as you dreamed.

Yet not everyone was asleep. Night was the time for criminals and wrongdoers to crawl out from the depths. Sinister people who chose to act under the cover of darkness, skillfully hiding between the shadows which blanketed the court.

And tonight they had come for you. Of course choosing the one night that Eris wasn't here to protect you.

It was the rattle of your door handle which stirred Darling from her slumber. The hound curiously jumping off the bed and padding to the door, hoping that her other master had returned from his travels.

Only she didn't scent the usual crackling fire or roasting chestnuts. Instead a putrid smell of soured milk and fermented fish wafted to her nose.

Her fur stood on end. Baring her teeth as she released a low growl, the sound being enough to draw you from your dreams. Sitting up in bed and noticing the precarious way Darling was stood at your door.

"Darls?" You questioned, your worlds slurred through the thick coat of sleep which was still wrapped around you, "Come back to bed girl."

She didn't move. Muscles still tense as she stared at the door which you had only just noticed was banging softly. If Darling wasn't so on edge you would have passed it off as wind. Though the dogs anxious demeanour and the lack of a howling gale blowing against your windows had your body filling with dread.

The doors burst open, clattering against the walls from the force at which they did so. A dark figure entered, crazed eyes locked on your shaking form as they advanced.

You froze, unsure of what to do. Cursing yourself for never taking up Eris’s offer on learning how to fight, for being so sure that the need for that skill would never arise and that if it did Eris would be there to protect you.

But Eris wasn’t here. And as you stared into the cold, unforgiving eyes of your intruder fear flooded your system. Thoughts swimming around your mind at the possibility that these could be your last moments. That you’d never see your husband again. That he’d come home from his trip and find your mangled body sprawled across the bed.

Your panic increasing, you shook yourself awake, needing to be prepared to put up a fight. Jumping out of the sheets as quickly as possible so you could stand and draw your hands into shaky fists.

Ready to act.

But you needn’t do so. For as the man crossed the threshold Darling was already on him.

Her sharp teeth finding their home in the flesh of his arm. Rabid growls leaving her mouth as she tugged and thrashed at the limb trapped between her teeth. Blood poured from the man’s arm, screams of pain escaping from his throat. Legs pathetically flailing as he tried to kick her from him.

It didn’t take long at all for Darling to wrestle him to the ground. The whites of her eyes bulging in a way you had never seen, your dog never before having the need to show this amount of aggression to anyone.

She continued to ravage the man, tearing at his arm as he continued his attempts to bat her away.

Anger coursed through your body at the sight of the kicks and punches he was delivering to your dog. Your baby. And so you make to run forwards, to aid Darling with what little strength you had.

Yet once more you were saved by another.

Eris burst into the room, sword in hand. You were too stunned by his sudden appearance to try and make sense of how he was here, how he could have possibly known what was happening.

Upon his arrival, Eris was swift to finish the job. A still feral Darling coming to stand in front of you protectively. Blocking your view of the scene before you, hiding the figure of Eris stabbing his sword through the man’s gut.

When the deed was done, Eris made to come towards you, wanting nothing more than to rush to your side in order to make sure you were ok.

But Darling wouldn’t allow it.

Baring her blood-stained teeth at her master. Snarling as he tried to lay a calming hand on her. Refusing to let your husband come anywhere near you.

“It’s ok Darling” you soothed, stroking along her back, bringing her back to reality, allowing the cloud of fear to clear from her eyes as she saw who was before her. Inhaling his familiar sent. It was her family.

“It’s over Darling” you whispered into her ear as you pulled her into a hug, “my brave, brave girl. You did so well.”

The baby

“Oh Eris, let her in. She’s scratching at the door!”

It had been a long labour. The efforts of which had drained a lot of energy from you, leaving you exhausted, pale and sweaty.

But it was worth it. Every minute of pain. You would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant getting to hold the little bundle of joy which was currently held against your chest.

A little baby girl.

A beautiful daughter who already had a small little head of red hair to match her father’s. Her little fingers clinging onto your body as you cradled her.

Your husband, eyes full of love sat at the edge of the bed, admiring the beauty of the moment. His tiny, healthy baby. His magnificent, strong wife.

Yet to you, one thing was missing from the picture.

Your poor little hound had been kicked out of the room by Eris at the first signs of your labour. Your husband claiming you didn’t need any distractions, that Darling would get in the way.

But you could see it. The underlying glint of anxiety in his eyes, the already fierce desire had had to protect his newborn daughter. Worried of what could happen if he let an excitable Darling into the room, what havoc she would cause.

He didn’t mean to think that way, you knew Eris loved Darling dearly. But you also knew that this was a big change for Eris.

That he wanted to be a good father. That he wanted to be different from his own.

With the distraction your labour brought, where Darling was or what she was doing didn’t cross your mind. But now all you could hear was her incessant scratching and whining at your door and you wanted nothing more than for your pup to meet the new member of your family.

“Please Eris” you begged, a tired hand stretching across the bed in an attempt to reach your husband’s, “Let her in.”

The male sighed, rising from where he was sat. He placed a gentle kiss against your forehead before making his way to the door. Only opening it slightly before he caught Darling as she ran inside, sweeping her into his strong arms.

It was a sight to behold, your giant, wriggling hound in Eris’s sturdy grip. Darling had been much too big for you to pick up for years now, and Eris definitely looked as though he was struggling to do so now as well.

He perched back onto the end of the bed, arms tight around Darling, his stern voice berating her, “No Darling! Calm down, gently now. Gently.”

You smiled, a warming wide smile. Your heartstrings twinging at the sight. Everybody you loved was here, sat together on your bed.

Darling managed to wriggle her way out of Eris’s grip, the male cursing as she did so. Her spritely form running up the bed until she came to rest against you. Slowly laying her head against your stomach as her wide eyes took in the child against your breast.

“This is Eva, Darling” you smiled, introducing the hound to your baby.

She didn’t jump. Didn’t push her sniffling nose as close to the babe as she could. Instead Darling just laid in silent contentment, her curious eyes never leaving your daughter for a minute. She needn’t have the ability to speak for you to know what your pup was thinking, to know that in this very moment her heart had grown two times as big.

To know that she had just met her new best friend.

The terrible two’s

“Oh cauldron, Eva get back here!” You chased after your daughter, her little feet carrying her through the halls at a pace you didn’t expect a two year-old would have.

“Eva!”

Whilst running may appear to be her speciality listening was not.

As much as you loved your daughter, there were some days where you just felt utterly exhausted. Unable to keep up with her energetic soul and curious demeanour.

Spending more of your time chasing after her than anything else.

Yet thankfully, even on days like these where Eris was stuck in meeting after meeting, you always had help.

Your little Darling was never far behind Eva. The hound glued to her side wherever you went. You thought Eris was an overprotective brute, but Darling coddled her as if she was her own.

Eva never went anywhere without Darling, and Darling never went anywhere without Eva.

The hound ran down the corridor after the giggling toddler. Her head nudging Eva back up whenever she stumbled or fell, allowing the girl to grip uncomfortably tight onto her fur for support. Nose lightly pushing your daughter to the side whenever she was about to run into someone in the hallway.

Darling may not have been raised to hunt like all of Eris’s other hounds, but clearly her expertise lay in raising children. Her heightened instincts which would have allowed her to easily track prey, were what enabled her to keep up with the toddler so well.

Eris liked to joke that if Eva spent any more time around the dog she’d begin to act like one. That her increasingly mischievous personality was unbecoming of an Autumn Court Princess. You liked to joke that Eva acted just as wild as her father did.

You were panting by the time you caught up to the pair, a slight sheen of sweat across your forehead as you scooped your squealing daughter into your arms. Darling jumping up and barking along, wanting to join in on the fun.

“Come on girlies” you beamed, continuing to walk towards your destination, “let’s go find Daddy.”

Eva happily babbled away at the sound of his name, bouncing in your arms as you made your way towards Eris’s office, hoping to catch him having a break in-between meetings.

You tap at his door, pressing your ear against the wood in order to better hear. “Come in” his tired voice rings out.

Opening the door, Darling bounds into the room, leaping into your husband’s lap, a smile forcing its way onto his face at the action, hands absentmindedly scratching behind the hound’s ears.

He must have noticed the slightly disheveled state you’re in, taking in your appearance before letting out a teasing snort, “tough day Little Fox? You can go and sit in my next meeting and I’ll look after our girls if you prefer.”

“I think I’ve got the better end of the stick here my love.”

The man huffed in disappointment, though his mood lightened slightly when you passed a giggling Eva into his arms, resting her butt on Darling’s body as he bounced her up and down as he cooed.

“You can take her into the meeting with you if you wish. I’m sure your father wouldn’t mind his Granddaughter running around, maybe if she tires him out as much as she has me it’ll be a short meeting.”

“She’s really run you ragged huh?” Eris asks, he attempts to keep his words light and hearty but you noticed the flicker of concern which flashed in his eyes.

“Not just her” you reasoned, “And not just the fact that I had to chase after Darling in the woods this morning because she saw a squirrel. It’s actually…ah-”

Your sentence was interrupted by a knock at the door. Eris’s brother stepping inside his office without needing to hear any acknowledgement of his knock. His full eyes looked to you before boredly travelling to his brother, “Your late Eris. Father won’t wait much longer.”

Your husband nodded at his brother, dismissing him as he stood from his chair with a sigh, Darling jumping off of his lap. “What was it you had to say Little Fox?” He asked whilst passing Eva to you.

“Nothing, nothing don’t worry,” you brushed him off, knowing that what you had to tell your husband required more time, “I’ll tell you tonight.”

It was a torturously long wait. His meetings having run on for more than half the day. Night had fallen, and Eva had curled up to sleep alongside Darling, the two snoring softly. Yet your anxiety didn’t allow you to sleep, not until Eris came back.

Once he did arrive, he bore dark circles under his eyes and his posture was slouched, you almost thought about waiting another day before telling him the news.

But then you saw the way his eyes lit up when he cast his gaze upon his daughter and your dog. The never ending love which poured from his eyes made it too difficult to resist. You didn’t even say hello to the man before you blurted out, “I’m pregnant Eris!”

He turned to you, tiredness slipping from his eyes as a combination of shock and joy flooded into them, “yeah?”

“Yes!” You cried, unable to stop the tears which leaked from your eyes, throwing yourself into your husband’s tender embrace, “we’re having another child.”

He cheered in glee, picking up your body in glee and spinning you around, yelps leaving both your lips as you slapped his chest and cursed him, “Shhhh, you’re going to wake her! It took long enough to get her to sleep!”

The two of you looked over to where your sleeping daughter was laid, smile adorning both your faces as you saw a cheerful Darling looking right back at you. Her gentle head resting on Eva’s stomach as her tail batted happily back and forth.

Almost as if she knew the news which you had shared between you. As if she knew what was coming next. Who was coming next.

The goodbye

An unfortunate circumstance. That’s what the doctor called it. It was her time to go.

Eris had called him to your chambers immediately, the second Darling had slumped in exhaustion and refused to wake back up.

She was old. That was true. But there was something about her that had you convinced she would live forever. She had always been here, for as long as you had been in Autumn, and now you would have to try and live on without her.

You were in a state. Not even the comfort of your two beautiful children could quell the grief which had found its home inside of you.

Their presence, while appreciated, failed to fill the Darling shaped hole which had grown in your heart in her absence.

You weren’t sure how long it had been since that day on the floor of your room, cradling your best friend as she drifted into her final sleep. Each day seeming to all blur into one. Every one more dull than the last. Your source of enjoyment had gone.

Yet Eris seemed to have had enough. He was familiar with the grief that came along after the loss of a pet. He has experienced it more times than he could count, having lived for centuries and loosing just as many pups for years he had been alive.

Your husband had decided you can’t go on like this, that something had to be said. You already knew it was coming right from the moment he sat down onto the bed, comforting hand moving to hold yours.

“I know it’s hard,” he spoke slowly and concisely, as if he had rehearsed exactly what needed to be said, “I know it feels like you’ll never be happy again. But you will. The reminders you look to now which cause you pain will soon bring you joy. Will bring you thanks, will make you grateful for the time you got to have with her.”

Your tears which had been spilling for the past few days stopped at the words your husband was saying. Your ears twitching as you took in every word he was saying. He saw your peaked attention as a sign to continue.

“You’ll see her everywhere. In the forests she used to run in, the halls, your bed, Eva, Lucerys, me. You’ll see her everywhere but you’ll be able to look and smile because you were fortunate enough to have shared those memories with her. You’ll never forget her. No one’s asking you to. But it’s time to move on.”

“It’s hard” you cried, the pain in your chest felt as though it would never leave. That it had built its home there and that’s where it would stay.

“I know,” he consoled, soft hand coming to brush against your cheek, “no one said it’s not hard. But you just have to be strong. For me. For the kids. For Darling.”

He was right of course. He annoyingly always seemed to be. But you understood what he was telling you, what he was asking of you.

That you did need to move on. But moving on didn’t mean that you had to forget. And you never would.

The new beginning

“Mum! Mum come look! Come on!” Lucerys called for you. Now taller and faster than you it took him very little effort to drag you through the halls as he ran. You chased after him, wondering what could be so urgent.

He led you outside, his hand still entwined with yours as he slowed his pace after noticing how you were struggling to keep up.

It was only now he had slowed that you were able to properly look at your son, at his long red hair, at the beaming smile across his face, at the spark of joy in his eyes as he led you to the kennels.

It had taken you a long time to come here after losing Darling. But once you did you had immediately found yourself at home, surrounded by a dozen other hounds who you loved just as dearly. Your time being spent with your son who held the same affinity with animals as his father, the two of you opting to spend most of your free time tending after your husband’s hounds together.

“She’s had the pups mum!” He exclaimed as he led you inside, hand pulling yours until the two of you reached the back of the kennel where Eva was doting over the mother hound. A litter of newborn puppies suckling at her.

You didn’t fight the tear which fell from your eye, nor the twinge of pain caused from the plucking of one of your heartstrings. You allowed yourself to feel the pain as you looked to their reddish coats and their small paws. You allowed yourself to be reminded of Darling. To grieve for what you had lost all those years ago.

Lucerys helped you to sit, excitedly bringing you with him to the floor as you admired the small puppies. Your son passing you one of the small hounds, which had started to cry as it was moved from its mother. Yet it fell silent once it had reached the warmth of your hands.

That old familiar glow settled in your chest. The rekindling of a love you once felt so strongly. A blissful smile crossing your face as you took in its dear little face.

“That one’s for you mum” Eva smiled, her bright eyes locking with your watery ones, “you can name her whatever you want. She’s all yours.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: I know this took a very sad turn but this piece means a lot me so I really hope you guys like it!

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #eris vanserra oneshot #eris vanserra imagine #eris oneshot #eris vanserra x reader #eris imagine #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra

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thisblogisaboutabook · 4 months

Text

Alright, everyone! I’m about to start on my next ACOTAR x Taylor Swift inspired one shot for…

Champagne Problems! What #angst pair up would you like for this one?

#acotar #angstmas #angst #taylor swift #fanfiction #champagne problems #eris vanserra #morrigan #cassian #nesta archeron #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #sarah j maas #lucien vanserra #tamlin #acotar oneshot #a court of thorns and roses #oneshot

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utterlyotterlyx · 1 month

Note

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.

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praetorqueenreyna · 9 months

Text

NEED NERIS IDEAS FOR ERIS WEEK

#acotar #neris #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #I am screaming into the void #ANY NERIS STANS HAVE ANY HEADCANONS OR IDEAS THEY WOULD WANT TO SEE EXPLORED?#PERHAPS IN A ONESHOT ABOUT 1k-5k WORDS???

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the-darkestminds · 18 days

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Desolate Autumn 🍂

Eris refuses his father's order to kill Lucien's lover, Jesminda, and faces severe punishment. Lucien flees the Autumn Court.

In canon, Eris states that he wasn’t present for the execution. I explored what it might have been like if he had been there. I can’t stop making my fave Vanserra brothers suffer. 😭

🍁 Eris & Lucien POV 🍁

Can also be found on ao3 here!

Hope you guys enjoy 🥹 eternally grateful to anyone who chooses to read it all the way through 🫶

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Eris

Eris had long since learned to dread being summoned to his father’s throne room. He had only unpleasant memories of the place, and chose to avoid it as often as he could. As the eldest son of Autumn, that was not often enough. His footsteps echoed off the marble beneath him as he made his way through the Forest House. His mind was consumed with thoughts of last night’s patrol, the sentry who had been reported missing near Winter’s border without explanation. Eris pondered the problem as he turned the corner and the grand entrance to the throne room came into view. The arched hall was decorated with intricate carvings of golden vines, interspersed with rubies that sparkled in the afternoon light. He had always held the belief that the beauty of the Autumn Court was in stark contrast to the ugliness of the people who called it home.

Eris’s steps faltered as he entered the throne room, the scene unfolding before him. Lucien, a gag of fire between his lips, was restrained by his brothers, Jasper and Orson. He struggled against the grip they each had on his arms. A lesser faerie female was bound and on her knees before his father. Tears streamed down her face as she turned her pleading eyes towards Eris.

He stopped abruptly, his stomach sinking as understanding dawned on him as to why he had been called here. What he might be required to witness. He glanced around the room taking note of his father’s loyal sentries standing watch along the walls. His other brothers, Alix, Arden and Conall stood to the side with knowing smirks on their smug faces. Mercifully, his mother’s chair sat empty beside his father’s throne. At least she would not be here to bear witness to whatever horror was soon to unfold.

“You called?” Eris forced himself to say with a drawl. He flicked an invisible piece of lint from the lapel of his emerald green jacket. He kept his face cool and indifferent—it had become a near-permanent mask, here in his father’s court of snakes.

“Eris.” Beron’s voice thundered through the room. “We were just about to begin.” Jasper and Orson turned at his name, and both gave him a slight nod before quickly averting their eyes.

“Oh?” Eris glanced at Lucien once more, who thrashed against his brothers like a wildcat caught in a trap. His russet eyes so wide and pained as they met Eris’s from across the room. The band of fire around his mouth prevented him from speaking beyond frantic grunts and moans. Eris slid the practiced smirk on his face and tried to disguise the slight tremor in his hands as he clasped them behind his back. He tried to think of something he could say to prevent the impending violence, but his mind came up blank.

“Lucien here thinks to sully himself by marrying a lesser fae whore. He has deluded himself into believing she is a worthy match for a High Lord’s son,” Beron spat, his lip curling as he snarled in Lucien’s direction. Beron met Eris’s gaze once more and smiled viciously. “You shall eliminate the problem for me, Eris.” Beron delivered a swift and brutal kick to the female’s ribs and she curved in on herself with a pained cry. Lucien screamed.

“I am sure Lucien will come to see reason, eventually.” His smile was cold and harsh as he looked down at his youngest son.

Eris started at the command. That Beron would truly have Lucien’s lover executed in front of him…He was well acquainted with his father’s penchant for violence, but this seemed uniquely cruel, even for him. Eris knew he’d been stupid to hope his presence had been requested merely to oversee courtly business, or to deal with his ever-scheming younger brothers, always at each other’s throats. But an execution? To be carried out by Eris himself?

“No.” Eris’s heart raced. He had never once uttered that word to his father. Had not once, in his long life, disobeyed a direct order. The silence that followed was deafening. Beron jerked around at the outright refusal. His brothers gaped at him.

“What did you say to me, boy?” Beron seethed. The rage on his face was enough to send lesser males running. But Eris held his ground. He would not cross this line—would not be the one to break Lucien so thoroughly, so ruthlessly, that he might never recover from the pain and loss.

“I will play no part in this,” Eris shrugged. He fought to keep his tone measured and aloof despite the storm raging inside of him. His gut churned at the slight glint of hope he spied in Lucien’s eyes. Eris hated to give him that hope—knew that Beron would see this done with or without Eris’s involvement. Beron glared at him, and Eris held his gaze. Let it wash over him in all its fury. Seconds, maybe minutes, passed in silence. Then—

“Get out. I’ll deal with you later,” Beron sneered. Eris turned to leave and Lucien began screaming in earnest then, struggling wildly against Jasper and Orson as his other three brothers looked on with varying degrees of amusement. He screamed as if Eris had been his final hope—had come to save him from this hell he was now trapped in.

It cut Eris deep—to turn his back on Lucien and walk away. To burn that remaining sliver of hope to ash. When he reached the throne room doors, he heard his father unsheath the blade. Heard the sobs of the female on the floor. Heard as Lucien, the gag now removed, begged, “Jesminda! NO, FATHER, PLEASE! PLEASE!” And as Eris stepped into the hallway, he cringed at the wet thud that sounded as Jesminda’s head toppled to the floor, his stomach lurching in response. Lucien’s agonized shrieks rang loudly in his ears and he felt his heart splinter in two.

Eris barely made it to his chambers before he was violently sick upon the patterned carpet. With a wave of his hand he winnowed the mess away and stumbled towards the oak desk in the corner of his opulent rooms, eyes and throat burning. He had only minutes to see this through. Prayed that he was correct in thinking Beron would want Lucien to suffer for at least several days before finally ending it. Ending him. Eris found a spare bit of parchment and began hastily scrawling the urgent message to the High Lord of Spring. He did not sign it nor leave any indication of who it was from. The message vanished in a puff of smoke. He grabbed a second page, his handwriting sloppier with each frantic word he wrote. Just as the second note disappeared, there was a loud pounding on his chamber doors.

Eris knew what was coming then. He steeled himself as he opened the heavy wooden door, revealing four of his father’s most trusted guards. He did not ask them to explain themselves. Eris merely raised his chin, stepped into the hall, and closed the door behind him. His heart pounded with every step he took as the guards led him down, down, down into the coldest depths of the sprawling Forest House. Eris tried to clear his mind, tried to remain calm as they arrived in the frigid dungeons. With a deep breath in, he let himself be guided into the familiar cell. It had been worth it, he told himself. He prayed he was right.

Lucien

Lucien stirred. The first things he heard were the low cooing of a morning dove, the steady trickle of a fountain. A warm breeze that smelled of spring wrapped itself gently around him. And then he felt a throbbing pain in the back of his head. His eyes remained closed. Suddenly, memories came flooding back to him in a violent rush. Jesminda, executed by his father, the unlocked cell door, fleeing through the forest, Orson dead by his blade, and Tamlin, Jasper—The scenes flashed in his mind.

Lucien was dragged to an empty cell near the stables outside and tossed roughly to the ground. No better than a caged animal. He sat numbly in the cold, hard dirt, trying to block out the memory of Jesminda’s cries, her pleas to his father, to him, to spare her. The sound of the blade withdrawn from its sheath. The glint as his own father angled the sword back, and—The opening of the cell door shook him from his thoughts. A plate of stale bread and water was placed on the ground. As the unfamiliar sentry left, Lucien did not hear the click of the lock sliding back into place. He rose and made his way to the door on silent feet. Unlocked. He glanced down. There upon the plate, concealed beside the bread, was a dagger. He did not question his luck. He palmed the dagger and opened the door.

And then he was running. Barreling through the brisk Autumn forest. Red and gold and orange streaked by him as he sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him south. His chest heaved with every step, until he tasted blood on his tongue and his lungs burned painfully. He could hear his brothers in pursuit of him, crashing through the branches and leaves scattered about the damp forest floor. They were close–their taunting jeers sounded loudly in his ears. He blocked out their words, pushed himself to run harder and faster. The air began to warm, and the reds and golds blossomed into greens and pinks and—a deafening roar cleaved the land. Tamlin. Dumb luck, or perhaps fate, that he was here when Lucien needed him most.

The beast appeared before him in a flash of fur and sharp fangs. Lucien ducked quickly and he heard the squelch of claws stabbed through flesh. Heard Jasper howl in pain. Lucien whirled as he brought his dagger up, just as Orson slashed his axe down upon his head. Lucien twisted at the last second to dodge what was surely a death blow. A wall of flame rose up between them. He let his sorrow and rage fuel him as he pushed that fire outward towards Orson. His brother roared in pain as the white-hot fire lanced his exposed side. Arden stepped up and met Lucien’s flame with a flare of his own. Metal and fire blasted and collided. And then Lucien was moving again, twisting low, angling that dagger upwards—steel met skin as the blade sunk deep into Arden’s throat. He choked, blood gurgling from his gaping mouth, and then collapsed. Dead.

It happened too fast. Lucien heard Tamlin roar in warning—he made to turn, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid the blunt edge of the axe that clobbered him in the back of the head. A flash of pain—and then darkness swallowed him whole.

Lucien was fully awake now. He cracked his eyes open against the soft light. Tamlin sat in a wooden chair to his left, a grim expression on his handsome face as he gazed back at Lucien.

Jesminda. No—Jesminda…she was dead. Murdered, as he watched uselessly. Lucien squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the image of her head rolling across the floor. He tried to breathe but the air was trapped in his lungs. He was suffocating, gasping for breath, choking on the pain that wrapped itself around his heart. Lucien wept.

Soon his body was shaking with the force of his sobs, and an agonized moan crawled its way out of his throat. He heard screaming—excruciating, gut-wrenching screaming, and realized it was coming from his own lips. He tore at his long hair, attempted to peel the flesh from his bones so he might not be forced to live within his own skin. He wished he were dead—tried to smother himself in flame and burn away the remaining scraps of his withered soul. Strong, callused hands stopped him before he could do any damage. He thrashed and fought against them—wished those hands would grow claws once more and lodge themselves deep inside his chest. But instead, they gripped him firmly, an anchor to the world he so desperately wished to leave. Tamlin said nothing as he held Lucien tightly. Lucien could smell the salt of his own tears and felt like his heart had been cleaved in two. The pain was unbearable—he begged for someone, anyone, to end him. He sunk deeper into despair—let it drag him down, down, down, until he was drowning in it. He sank deeper still, where the screaming was quieter. Until he heard nothing but the frantic beat of his own wretched, cowardly heart.

Eris

It was not the first time Eris had found himself locked in the darkened chamber beneath the palace. His knees dug into the cold stone of the dungeon floor, his hands bound to each side at an uncomfortable angle. The restraints dug painfully into his wrists as he clenched his hands against the numbness that had slowly taken hold since he’d been chained up the evening prior. His ears strained to pick up any sounds outside the room, but all he could hear was the quiet trickle of water on the slick stone walls. Eris tried and failed not to let his mind wander to thoughts of Lucien’s escape, whether he had made it to Spring unharmed, if Tamlin had received his warning to haul ass to his northern border and await Lucien’s arrival. Eris prayed the note had reached him in time. That the second note had found its way into the correct hands. Before he could truly spiral, he heard several sets of footsteps growing louder in their approach.

Eris’s heart began to race as he heard the door swing open, those footsteps echoing off the cell’s damp walls. His father’s face appeared before him and rage glowed in his muddy brown eyes.

“You’ll be pleased to know your traitorous brother made it beyond Spring’s borders. With two of your own brothers killed in the fight,” Beron snarled at him. Eris said nothing–waited for the guilt to come. Instead, he felt relief. Brothers they might be, he held no true affection for the lot of them, save for Lucien. He wondered who had landed the killing blows. He hoped it had been Tamlin, so as to spare Lucien from further violence. He knew his brothers had been following orders, but they had always done so with such glee, seeming to enjoy the pain they inflicted on their father’s behalf. Eris did not ask who, specifically, had been killed. He did not want to know.

Sharp pain lanced across his face as Beron struck him once, twice. A punch to his gut stole the air from his lungs. He could taste the coppery tang of blood on his tongue.

“What will it take for you to learn that you are only useful to me if you obey?” Beron mused. Eris said nothing, gritting his teeth against the rage that coursed through him. He had never denied his father anything, save this. He was as loyal and obedient as his favored hounds. A dog to command. His father glared down at him a beat longer, a cruel smile forming on his lips. Beron jerked his head to someone behind him and Eris heard the familiar clink of a weapon being removed from a belt chain. He glanced briefly over his shoulder to confirm his suspicions.

Though he had long since learned how to pace himself, to weather the pain, it did not stop the dread from pooling in his stomach as his father’s sentry unfurled the whip at his side. Eris faced forward once more, began tunneling deep down within so as to hide from the pain of what was to come. Cold sweat started to bead on his forehead as one of the guards stepped forward and tore Eris's shirt, exposing his back to the chilled air. He braced himself against the searing sting of the whip against his flesh, but it did little to lessen the blow as the leather slashed through the skin on his back. He grunted at the pain that sliced through him, but swallowed the scream in his throat.

“Again,” Beron commanded.

The whip cracked again, and Eris jerked, hissing through his teeth. He did not regret refusing his father’s order to kill the female. Jesminda, Lucien had screamed. His long life had taught him that doing his father’s bidding served him far better than rebelling ever would. But this—what had been done in that wretched throne room—Eris was right to take no part in it. He could still hear the sound of the female’s head as it tumbled to the floor with a wet thump. Could still hear Lucien’s agonized cry as he was forced to watch. No—he did not regret it. Only that he hadn’t been able to stop it.

Again and again, the whip tore into his ruined back, retracing scars from previous punishments. Eris arched against the agony, panting through clenched teeth. He felt the blood dripping down his sides, along with a sharp throb of pain with each beat of his shredded heart.

The whip cracked again, tearing his skin down to the bone, and Eris finally screamed. He heard the sentry step back and sagged slightly against the chains. Beron gripped Eris’s chin roughly and forced him to meet his eyes.

“Consider this a warning, boy, should you think to disobey me again. Next time I'll have your head. Or perhaps I'll allow one of your remaining brothers the pleasure of ending you.” His father released him and strode out of the chamber.

Eris hung there, limply, his body trembling from the pain. He choked down the sob building in his chest, hating his father, his brothers, his life. Himself. The magnitude of his misery, his loneliness, washed over him in waves.

He should have been accustomed to it by now—the punishments, the beatings. Eris had spent much of his time growing up trying to protect his brothers, Lucien especially, from his father’s wrath. He had shielded them as much as he could, often taking the brunt of it himself. He had loved Lucien dearly, and still did. But that love terrified Eris to no end. He had quickly learned that caring for anyone in his father’s court was a weakness. That those he loved would soon be turned into weapons to be wielded against him. So Eris had shut Lucien out—treated him like trash until he was sure Lucien despised him, as he did the rest of their brothers. It hurt Eris—to see the warmth slowly disappear from Lucien’s gaze whenever their eyes met, day by day, until none remained. But it had been worth it if it kept the full force of Beron’s rage focused elsewhere, for a time.

The sentries, momentarily forgotten, shuffled forward and unclasped the chains encasing Eris’s wrists. He slumped forward, his arms too numb to catch himself as he face-planted on the hard stones with a grunt. Neither male addressed him as they exited the cell, though they left the door open. He was free to leave, it would seem. Yet he remained facedown on the ground, his hands tingling as they slowly regained feeling. A single tear traced a path down Eris’s cheek, mingling with the blood pooled beneath him. He breathed deeply, the musty air thick in his lungs. Seconds, minutes, hours later, perhaps, he finally rose, his back screaming in protest as he pushed himself up from the floor.

It would not do to dwell on things he could never have. He was a pathetic fool to even let himself consider what it might be like to see their friendship restored. To have Lucien once again look at him with admiration and light in his eyes. As Eris slowly limped out of the chamber, he swore to himself he would never show such weakness again. Lucien had made it to Spring safely. Eris didn’t let himself consider the emotional state he might be in. He was safe. It was enough.

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