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#acotar Autumn court
florencemtrash · 10 months
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Flame, Shadow, Beast : Beast II
Azriel x Reader x Eris
Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.
Warnings: Angst and allusions to torture and death.
Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist
Masterlist of Masterlists
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You sat on Eris’s bed, your gorgeous dress crumbled beside you with the crown resting on top of the heap. It silently mocked you as you wrapped his robe closer around your body, burying your face in his scent. You shut your eyes and looked away from the door where Bryaxis was currently pacing on the other side.
Eris, Halvor, and Aurelia had been gone for two hours. Locked away in his official chambers discussing the matter of your bond with Azriel. 
“My Lady-” 
“Don’t call me that, Myrah.” The blademaiden had similarly tossed aside her glittering gown of silk and metal, choosing instead thin armor of bronze and soft leather. It was better suited for her slick style of fighting. She didn’t say anything as she climbed onto the sheets behind you and began to brush the tangles out of your damp hair.
“He won’t send you away.” She finally said after your hair had been brushed, oiled, and braided.
The bond fluttered as if in disappointment. You shoved it deeper, willing it to disappear entirely. 
“He may not have a choice.” 
Autumn couldn’t risk another war. Prythian couldn’t risk another war. But if Azriel dared to invoke the Blood Duel, no matter the outcome more blood would be shed.
No, he wouldn’t do that. You thought to yourself. Would he?
You’d heard of males doing worse things for less and Azriel was no male to be trifled with. And… He was in pain. 
As much as you tried to ignore it, and as much as he tried to shield you from it, Azriel was hurting. You felt muted waves of it through the bond like washes of tide against the shoreline.
If only you hadn’t chosen tonight to wear the crown or the dress or to subtly declare yourself the future Lady of Autumn. If only you’d had them leave sooner or… maybe this had all been a mistake. Maybe all the time you’d spent in Autumn had been a mistake, even if you were happy. Maybe… 
You looked around the room. The bedposts soared into the sky, disappearing into a ceiling that had been painted to look like the forest canopy. Colors of the sunset swirled down like wind. The roaring fire spread its molten heat across the warm wood furniture. Everyone spoke of the cruel beauty of the Forest House, its opulence and the disloyalty it housed within amber-encrusted walls. But you had only ever felt safe here. You’d fallen in love with all its old-fashioned peculiarities and the tales that had written themselves into the wood without anyone ever knowing. 
There in the corner was a dresser with burned handprints crawling up the sides- courtesy of Eris sneaking into the room to visit his mother after he’d just learned to walk. There above the vanity were two magnificent elk horns, altered to look like wings in flight. Lucien had found them shed by the river when Eris had first taken him hunting. Little trinkets you’d bought for him littered the room alongside the additions Myrah, Halvor, and Aurelia had gifted him over the years. Your own belongings filled the spaces previously left cold and empty, just like you spent most nights filling the empty spaces in his bed.
You set your jaw.
“Myrah,” She looked at you with wide eyes, “I think it’s time I got dressed.” 
“Eris specifically said not to let you out of his room. It could be dangerous.” Myrah said with a half-concealed smirk, walking beside you as you made your way towards Eris’s office. 
The Forest House was impenetrable… but a Shadowsinger could get into places others couldn’t. You felt the bond within you, daring to follow the string to wherever Azriel lay on the other side. The smallest tug and Azriel was stirring. You pulled away almost immediately. He wasn’t anywhere near the Forest House.
“He also said you were to be my blademaiden. Remind me of what that entails.” You said, refusing to slow down.
“To protect you with my life. To follow your orders… To care for you as my best friend.” 
You blinked and shot her a look. “The last part isn’t in your oath.”
She shrugged, “It’s not in my oath as a blademaiden… doesn’t mean I don’t have personal oaths I adhere to.” 
You squeezed her hand and she squeezed back harder.
Whatever conversations had been going on when you burst through the door died immediately. Halvor and Samson - third in command and Autumn’s spymaster - bowed when you entered, looking like a storm on a mission to render the room to splinters. Aurelia dipped her head, eyes shifting between Eris and you with a hint of sadness. It shaved away at your confidence.
“I need to speak with Eris. May we have the room?” You said, phrasing it more as a command and less of a question. 
Halvor nodded, making his way out with Samson and Myrah in tow. Aurelia lingered behind, squeezing Eris’s shoulder before waltzing out.
“What have you been discussing?” You said once the door had shut and you felt Eris’s magic wall up the sound in the room.
“I think you already know.” Eris said, standing up behind his desk and rubbing away the pressure building behind his eyes. He still wore his clothes from dinner and although he’d taken off his crown, a greater weight seemed to have fallen onto his shoulders. 
Eris swallowed. He had a letter crumpled up in his hand, half-written and blotted with ink spills. It began to smolder and burn.
“We weren’t sure-I wasn’t sure…” his voice trailed off, “I wasn’t sure if you’d already made up your mind.”
“About?” “About going to him. About being with him.” The words sounded strangled, like they were beasts that had fought against being spoken out loud. “He is your mate.”
“I don’t care.” 
Eris closed his eyes, “Y/n, I’m not-” “I said I don’t care.” 
He refused to look into your eyes, hands splaying out on the table as he fought back the fear in his chest. He didn’t want you to go. He’d given more of himself to you than he’d ever dared to before, and you had protected that trust with a fierceness he’d never seen. But this was something wholly out of his control. Something that had been dictated by the Mother. Who was he to stand between you and your mate? “What if… If you choose me, what if you come to regret it? What if I can’t give you what a mating bond can?” He said softly, as if he’d already given up on the hope that you’d stay. It lit a fire in your soul.
“I don’t care what the powers-that-be say about us.” You said, storming around the desk, “I don’t care if some force decided I am his equal or that we would make strong children together.” 
The bond was a sacred thing, more precious than anything land, gold, or blood could buy. But it was no guarantee of happiness. No guarantee of love. You would know, because you’d already found your happiness and love elsewhere.
You rushed forward, taking Eris’s face in your hands and feeling immediate relief when he didn’t move away. He leaned into your touch, turning his head to kiss the palms of your hands with reverence.
“I choose you, Eris. This hasn’t changed anything. Not for me.” You said with conviction.
“It hasn’t changed anything for me either.” Eris sighed in relief and touched his forehead against yours, your breaths mixing sweetly in the space between you two. 
“I would choose you.” He whispered fiercely, “Every. Single. Time. I would go to war for you, my love. Come hell or high water.” 
“I know,” You smiled, gently kissing on the lips and sighing when his warm hands traveled up the skin of your back, holding you to him, “I would do the same for you. But let us hope it doesn’t come to that.” 
Eris showed you the letter, the corners singed and flaking, and you smoothed it out on the mahogany table. Rhysand had been quick to request another meeting. Tension and worry were scratched into the curves of his flowery handwriting as he explained the situation in diplomatic terms: 
He was sorry for not attending the dinner. The Inner Circle had been unaware of the mating bond until it was too late. Azriel would behave himself and only come if called. The decision was yours. Whatever you chose, they wanted to continue being Autumn’s allies for the good of Prythian and to have you in their lives as friends, not enemies. It was delicate. Hopeful. A letter from someone who wanted peace as much as you did. Peace for his family. Peace for his son. 
The letter placed you in a position where you could wait for the tidal wave to settle. But just like the last time, this was not an issue you could ignore forever. An ax would always linger over your head, swaying dangerously close to your neck until you spoke with Azriel. So although you didn’t agree to another visit with the Inner Circle, you did allow Azriel to come to Autumn again.
You stood by the border, whispers of frost bitten wind snaking through the white gaps in the trees and reaching for your ankles. 
Samson and twelve of his best males and females stood behind you, archers at the ready and swordsmen with their hands gripping their hilts. They were more for Eris’s comfort than your own, and you would have your privacy when it mattered most.
Azriel emerged from the blizzard beyond like an ink stain on porcelain paper, bleeding into existence with his shadows swarming around him. He hadn’t been sleeping - you could tell from the faint bruises beneath his eyes. Somehow the imperfection made him more handsome, more mysterious. But you hadn’t had eyes for him in a long time.
“Come on.” You said, tilting your head towards the river that rushed and danced in the distance. You walked in silence, Azriel trailing behind like the shadow that he was and matching your shorter footsteps. He didn’t want to alarm you by overtaking you. Still, it was even more unnerving to know he was behind you without hearing or seeing him. You could only feel that bond tying you together, pulling you towards the male who walked ten paces behind.
You glanced back and he stopped, teeth clenching tightly as he looked at you. You were beautiful, shining in the burning forest like a flame. You’d always been beautiful and he had known this, but he hadn’t fully recognized it until it was far, far too late.
“Will you be slinking behind me the whole time like a kicked dog or will you walk beside me?” There was a biting humor in your voice that eased the tension in his shoulders. He walked beside you until you finally led him to the river. Any concerns that he might take this opportunity to survey the Autumn Court disappeared. He had his eyes on you the entire time like you were the only thing left in the world.
You sat down on the slick rock, dipping your bare feet into one of the clear streams that branched off from the river beyond, tumbling over boulders and stones with crisp clarity. Azriel took the cue to lower to the ground as well, his knee barely brushing against yours as he settled his magnificent wings on the cool stone.
“I’m sorry about Elain.” You said after a while of staring at the water. 
Azriel winced.
Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. It was no secret that five years after the Autumn Court war ended, Elain had quietly moved to the Sun Palace and mated Lucien. You’d met her briefly when he’d visited Eris, and as much as you wished you could resent her, she’d been lovely and kind, and kept good on her promise not to say anything about you to her family. You understood why Azriel had loved her… why he’d chosen her.
“I didn’t… I didn’t continue things with her after you were gone.” He said, choosing his words with care. His voice was rougher than usual, the sound rumbling out from his chest like the rolling of thunder. “It never felt right… I never felt right. I suppose I understand why now.”
He looked at you hopefully, hazel eyes wide and uncertain as he gently sent his thoughts down the bond. You shivered, feeling echoes of his love and longing for you along with the shame and guilt that accompanied it. 
He hated himself for the decisions he’d made. He had thought that Elain was meant for him - three sisters for three brothers. It seemed so simple, so obvious. So with each year that the mating bond hadn’t fallen into place, dark voices had whispered in his mind that he wasn’t truly a member of his family. Always an outsider. Always alone. It was why he’d traded you for Elain. A choice born out of a desperate desire to be loved and accepted. It was the worst mistake he had made in his life. 
“Azriel. I can’t.” You said, shaking your head and breaking eye contact.
“Can’t, or won’t.” He hadn’t touched you yet, but you saw his scarred hands flex out of the corner of his eyes, inching ever closer to where yours rested in your lap.
“Both.” 
You thought back to the first days you’d spent in the caves: Your wounds fresh and bleeding, the itching and pulsing of your burned flesh somehow getting worse as they healed, the desperation that came from existing in complete and total darkness. The only sounds you’d heard being the crunch and moans of the other poor souls that Beron sent down. 
It still hurt to think about and you didn’t believe it would ever go away.
“I learned something the day you left me.” 
“Y/n. Please-” He whispered, begging. His hands reached out for yours, and you let him.
You smiled sadly, tracing the scars that marred his hands. All the terrible past things that still clung to him. Things he could never forget. 
“Please.” He didn’t even know what he was begging for. He knew he didn’t deserve your forgiveness. He didn’t deserve the right to call you his mate. But… he could hope.
You traced over the scars once more, then let go of his hands.
“I learned I was never part of your family. Not truly. I was the one you were willing to sacrifice, not the one you’d burn down the world for.” 
Azriel swallowed thickly, pulling back on the shadows that had escaped his control and had begun to curl around your arms and your legs. 
He shook his head, “That’s not true. You have always been a part of this family. You will always be a part of this family.” 
You stayed silent.
“Is there… is there any chance at all for me to fix this?” Azriel asked. His hands now rested in between his knees, clasped so tightly together the pale skin of his scars blended into nothing. “To convince you to come back.” 
“No. No, I don’t think so.” 
He closed his eyes and deflated. A tear streaked down his cheek, dripping onto his lap. 
“I won’t leave him, Azriel. I won’t. Not for anyone. Not even for you.” “I know.” He whispered.
“I don’t… I don’t hate you. I never did. And I’m glad that Elain is alright. It probably was the right decision to make. I don’t know if Beron would have let Elain live. Not even as his prisoner.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t say that just to spare my feelings or to try and make things better.” 
“That’s not why I’m saying it.” 
Azriel stood up, furiously wiping away his tears and burying the feelings deep. He buried the bond even deeper and for the first time since the bond had snapped into place for you, you felt silence. 
You looked at him sadly. He hadn’t changed since the last time you saw him. He still loved deeply and hurt deeply too. 
You stood by his side, watched the river wind its way through the woods.
“It’s a beautiful place.” Azriel said softly, “I can see why you love it. And I… I understand why you love him. I do. I just wish it was me.” He swallowed thickly.
“You’ll find someone else, Azriel. I know you will.” You said, offering him a small, sad smile. 
He didn’t return it. Just looked at you for as long as he could, drinking in the sight of you. 
The next time he saw you he’d be calling you High Lady of Autumn. You’d be bound to this place and its magic, and he would never see you like this again. Gone were the days when you’d collapse on his office couch, chatting his ear off to help him forget the terrible things he’d done, or the days where you’d perch by the window in silence just to remind him he wasn’t alone. Gone were the nights where he’d gather you in his arms and shoot off into the sky to count the stars and find peace. He wanted those days back. He would have done anything to get those days back.
“No. I won’t.” Azriel said quietly and then said nothing more.
You took the cue and led him through the woods, tracing a path between the trees no one from outside the Autumn Court would be able to recognize. 
Samson bowed when you reached him, signaling his warriors to fall back. You would have your privacy.
When Azriel stepped over the threshold back into the Winter Court, you felt the magic in the air change, sealing the Shadowsinger out of your home. He pressed his hand against it, momentary panic freezing his lungs as he saw that you remained on the other side. 
You breathed in deeply, steeling yourself for the words you were about to speak.
“Azriel, I will say this once, and only once. If you so much as lay a finger on Eris or my home, I will never forgive you. I won’t hesitate to protect what’s mine.” 
“I know.” He said. The small smile he gave was full of heartache. He wished he’d done so many things differently, then maybe he would have been so lucky to hear you threaten someone to protect him. It was a terrible fate to be on this side of things.
“If… if anything happens - anything at all - know that I will always be here to help you. Promise me that you know.” “I know.” You said sadly. “I hope you find someone, Az. I really do. But that person will not be me.” 
He nodded. 
You didn’t look away, not as he held up both hands and pressed his forehead against the barrier. It was his own silent way of saying goodbye. Then, just as he had appeared, his shadows swallowed him whole, carrying him away to the Night Court where you hoped he would find a life that would make him forget all about this pain.
“Goodbye, Az.” You whispered.
But he was already gone.
<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->
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Author's Note:
Might write some Azriel x Reader oneshots to make myself feel better after wrecking my own heart.
Sorry for this chapter, everyone. But Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate. Lol.
Love,
Florence B.
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Taglist: @nightless @mmb-09 @thesnugglingduck @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @logankemaek @the-sweet-psycho @a-frog-with-a-laptop @flameandshadowx @applerubyy @esposadomd @imma-too-many-fandoms @bubybubsters @kalulakunundrum @chasing-autumns-chill @brujitafantomatico @emptyporsche @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @saltedcoffeescotch @djdjdhdheh
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danikamariewrites · 6 months
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𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥
Prologue
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A/n: welcome to my first series! I’m so happy to be putting this out and I’m excited to hear your thoughts. Please feel free to comment or ask questions :)
Warnings: slight angst, mentions of death, reader being trapped in a tower, deceptive Beron
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At thirteen years old you were still showing no sign of powers. Your father had always told you tales of the fire that runs through your veins. What your birthright is as the last living heir to the Autumn Court.
He had always seemed so happy to have you as his child. So proud.
Though the expectations he set terrified you, you were happy you have Beron as a father. When your father visits your tower he always asks what you’re learning this week or if you found any new hobbies to enjoy. There wasn’t much to do in your tower but study and draw. In your free time art had become your passion. So much so that your father and tutor, Lady Briar, couldn’t ignore your talent.
Everytime your father visits you ask him to tell you a story. Finally, after a decade of begging him for the tale of your family, Beron gave in. Your mother and two older brothers had loved you very much, he would tell you.
“When you were just a babe,” he would start the same way every time, “Relations between us and the Night Court were unstable. Their High Lord was hell bent on dominating Prythian.” This tale would always scare you. Make you afraid of what you would have to face once you took the throne of the Autumn Court. You’d be alone as High Lady. You didn’t like to think about being without your father.
During their legendary battle your mother and brothers had perished at the hands of the vile High Lord of Night. It was so awful and graphic your father never let you read any of the history books about it.
After he would tell the story he would leave. Giving you no other information about your family. Only left with your imagination to draw up what they looked like.
By twenty-two your powers had come, but you didn’t dare speak of what they were. You didn’t have the bright flames he’d hoped for from you. Father had told you of the blue flame that came once in a generation. An Autumn High Lord hadn’t produced a child who could wield such power in centuries.
On your own you have discovered your daemati powers. You knew about them from the history books Lady Briar had given you about the High Lords of Prythian.
Every time father talked about powers your gut twisted. Your heart rate spiked. And your palms would sweat. Father mistook it for excitement about learning how to control the fire that was your birthright.
On the day before your fiftieth birthday your father came into your room. He was frantic and disheveled. Telling you he loved you, cherished you even. He told you that you are the most important person in the world to him. That the day you were born he was blessed by the Mother herself to have you in his arms
The next day he didn't visit. Nor the day after that. Then a week had gone by and nothing. No one had come to your tower.
He never missed your birthday.
Calming your mind and body you sit criss cross on your bed. Slowing your breathing you cast your mind out to the main house, far from your lonesome tower.
There was chaos and quiet. Advisors scrambling but no solid answers. But not a soul is worried about you.
A knock at your door brought you back to your body. Unlocking the door with your mind you quickly stand, smoothing out the skirts of your dark autumn red gown. Lady Briar enters, looking as solemn and stern as ever. You give her a deep curtsy. “Lady Briar,” you greet. Looking up you see her expression changed to one of slight sorrow. “Princess,” she starts. “Your father, he…he has been taken with the other High Lords. That is all we know for now, your grace.” Without another word Lady Briar turned and left.
For weeks you paced your room, going about your usual routine. Reading. Painting. Sleeping. Repeat. You were going stir crazy. You were also desperate for answers as to who dared keep your father captive.
Something wasn’t right. You could feel it in your gut that there was more to what happened.
If no one would tell you then it was time to hunt for answers on your own. Which means going somewhere you’ve never gone before.
You have to leave the comfort of the tower. Well, it’s never been comfortable. As the years droned on you’ve felt more cramped and isolated than anything.
You had no supervision. No one to tell you no. Lady Briar certainly isn’t an authority figure to you anyways.
It took days of projecting your mind into the house, watching to learn the guards patterns. Where you would need to hide yourself and whose mind you would need to hold on to.
Throwing your cloak on, taking a deep breath you make your way down the spiral stairs of the tower. There were less than you thought there would be.
Letting loose another breath, resting your hand on the door that separates you from the real world, you square your shoulders and push.
Taking in the night sky from below was so different than your window. It seemed wider. Endless. Feeling the soft ground under your boots made you want to run and jump through the Forest House grounds.
Perhaps another night.
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loonylooly · 2 months
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After like, waaay too long, i finally finished prythian fashion the second 🤭
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Hope ya'll like them
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elleybug · 6 months
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The Lady and Son of Autumn 🍁
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secret-third-thing · 11 days
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For Day 6 of @erisweekofficial: AU | Retellings
Art by @/peachie.mochi (Insta) Commissioned by @secret-third-thing
Regency Eris and Lucien Anyone?
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iocaisaint · 28 days
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@nerisweek Day 5 : Alternative Universe // made by xohikka on Instagram, commissioned by me
When a human Nesta crosses the wall but finds herself in Autumn she must rely on the devil himself, Eris, the heir to Autumn court.
🚫 CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY & PLEASE CREDIT THE ARTIST IF YOU REPOST
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serpentandlily · 10 months
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Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Reader
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Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader
Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.
Warnings: use of the nickname bunny
Based on THIS request.
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Gods, you were going to be in so much trouble. You kept your fast pace as you walked through the woods, keeping your eye out for anything, anything, that might help you. The only reason you even knew where you were was the red and golden leaves adorning the trees, the scent of cinnamon and rain hanging in the crisp air. Autumn. You were in the Autumn Court. 
You had just been practicing winnowing with Rhys, your brother-in-law. Since the war ended, the Inner Circle was finally spending more time helping you learn your magic. You had wanted to learn, to do more, ever since you had been turned fae, tossed in the cauldron like your sisters.
But being the youngest meant also having to take a back seat sometimes. Feyre and Nesta never let you do anything. Never let you help in any way. Not much changed after you had been turned fae. 
The sound of dogs howling made you pause in your tracks. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. They could be farm dogs, it could mean that someone was nearby, someone who could help you. 
But you knew of the type of fae in the Autumn Court and it could also be someone who’d try to hurt you. You bit your lip, finally deciding to make a run for it as the howling got closer.
You took off down a line of trees, pushing yourself to run as fast as you could to create some distance between you and the pack of dogs. But a few stumbles over fallen branches and you could hear the pounding of their paws not far behind you. 
A bark had you looking over your shoulder, cursing as you saw the hounds close behind. They yelped with excitement as they caught sight of you, picking up their pace. 
Pain, awful, debilitating pain, rushed through your leg and you screamed, falling to the ground. You flipped yourself over to see your foot stuck in the claws of a bear trap, the metal prongs piercing through your skin. You cursed as you realized they must’ve been herding you here. 
You let out another cry as you forced yourself to sit up and scoot closer to the trap. The dogs were still running at you and you desperately tried to yank the trap apart, to free your foot. 
It was no use; the dogs were too fast. Faster than any dogs you’d ever encountered. You could do nothing but throw your arms over your face and scream, hoping someone would hear you before you were mauled to death by a pack of dogs. 
To your utter shock, the feeling of teeth ripping into your flesh never came. You slowly put your arms down to see twelve hounds running in a circle around you, yapping and howling into the air. Each one gray and sleek like smoke. 
Footsteps coming from behind you had you whipping around, eyes wide. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of a male. A very handsome male with silky red hair, whiskey amber eyes, and pale skin. He was tall, lithe, but he had the top three buttons of his shirt undone, giving you a glimpse of the muscles beneath. 
The cobalt coat he wore was finely crafted, along with his pants and shoes. The haughty expression on his face told you exactly who you were looking at—Eris, the Heir of Autumn.
You swallowed audibly as he smirked down at you, coming to a halt a few paces away. 
“Well what do we have here?” His voice was smooth like silk and it sent a shiver down your spine. 
You said nothing as he let out a sharp whistle and the hounds circling you halted before running to his side. They sat behind him like perfect little guards, their unusual eyes still on you. You looked back up at the male, who had just stumbled upon you, trapped. He walked around your form, much like his hounds had been doing. 
You couldn’t find any words. Mostly because of the pain of the bear trap ripping through your shin and foot. But also because you had only really ever heard horror stories about Eris—about his cruelty and cunning nature. 
Eris’s fox-like face smirked down at you in amusement. “My hounds seem to have herded a little bunny into one of my traps. Do you have a name, bunny?”
Should you tell him who you were? That you were one of the Archeron sisters, that you were from the Night Court? You knew briefly through listening in on Feyre’s conversations that they considered Eris an ally. But they also said he could hardly be trusted. 
“Does the little bunny not have a voice?” Eris purred, still circling around you like a predator playing with its food. “Hm, let me guess. The golden brown hair and the big, brown doe eyes that look incredibly similar to my brother’s mate’s…Have I trapped an Archeron?”
You used the sleeve of your dress to wipe at the tear tracks on your cheeks. You tried to back away from him, but the movement only jostled your leg, causing a small whimper to escape your throat. 
“I-I’m not sure how I ended up here, my Lord,” you mumbled. Gods, you felt pathetic. “Can you p-please help me?”
Eris tilted his head at you, in an animalistic way you still weren’t used to with the fae. He studied you for a moment before another smirk bloomed on his handsome fox-like face. He was picturesque with his disarming beauty.
“You see, I think this is all a bit unfair. You seem to know who I am, but you still haven’t told me your name, little bunny.” He knelt down next to you, reaching a gloved hand out to push some of your hair from your face. 
It should’ve alarmed you, his closeness, the touch of his hand. But for some reason, it didn’t. You swallowed again, considering your options. Maybe he would help you get home. 
“I’m one of Feyre’s sisters,” you managed to stutter out. 
“Is that so?” He seemed to be enjoying this. “And what is the name of the bunny I’ve managed to trap?” 
You mumbled your name out loud, glancing around the meadow you were in, at the hounds that were now all laying down, still staring at you. You blinked at them and the biggest one, the leader of the pack, stood suddenly. You kept your eyes trained on her as she marched over to you, shaking as you examined her large head, her jaw that could easily rip your throat out. 
But to your surprise, she merely meandered over to you and brushed her head against yours, letting out a low whine. Your eyes widened, looking over at Eris for a second to see a flicker of shock cross his face. The hound let out a small yip before licking the side of your face, drawing out a surprised giggle from you. Was she trying to…comfort you? 
“Ashera,” Eris said sternly with a snap of the fingers. But the hound merely glanced at him and then went back to nudging you with her fluffy head. 
You raised a shaky hand and stroked her back, bewildered by the dog's behavior. She licked you up the side of your face again and Eris said her name a little louder this time, making her ears twitch. She whined at him but listened, going back to the other dogs. 
“I didn’t know there was a fourth Archeron sister. Where have they been hiding you?” Eris asked, drawing your attention back to him. “And why?”
You shrugged your shoulders. Had they been hiding you? No one has ever mentioned keeping you a secret. “I-I don’t know.”
He waved a hand in the air, summoning a piece of parchment and pen. He quickly scribbled something on it before flicking it away. You watched it disappear with awe, still taken aback by the use of magic. 
Eris seemed to remember you were still stuck. He let out a sigh and placed his hands on both sides of the trap. He paused to look at you. “Sorry, little bunny, but this is going to hurt.”
And then he pulled the trap apart with his bare hands. You let out a loud cry as the metal spikes were pulled out of your leg. You whimpered, pulling your knee to your chest as you examined the damage to your shin. 
Blood was now gushing from the wounds that circled around your shin. You grabbed some of your skirt in your hand, intending to use it to put pressure on the wounds but Eris’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. 
“Don’t do that,” he hissed. “Are you dumb? Your skirt is covered in dirt and mud. You’ll only infect it.”
Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He reached a hand towards you but now free from the trap, you scrambled away from him with a whimper. He let out an amused chuckle.
“No need to be frightened, little bunny,” he purred. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
You looked at him warily as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dangling it in the air between the two of you. You swallowed audibly but didn’t move as he approached again and wrapped it around your ankle as a makeshift gauze. 
He hummed, standing up and brushing invisible dirt from his pants. “Now, are you going to tell me why exactly an Archeron is in my court?”
“I was learning how to winnow. I-I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute I was in Velaris and then next, I was here.” 
He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Interesting. Well, come on. Let’s get to Spring so someone can come retrieve you before you get yourself killed.”
Eris held at his gloved hand to you. You took it, letting him help you rise from the ground, trying to keep weight off your injured ankle. As soon as you were up, he winnowed the two of you away. 
A moment later, you appeared on the border of Autumn and Spring. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for Eris grabbing you by the upper arm. You blushed, muttering a small thank you.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to walk the rest of the way so we don’t set off any wards that will alert my father,” Eris said, coolly. 
He set off and you trailed after him, hobbling slowly because of your injury. You only made it a few paces before Eris turned around. 
“Hurry it up, bunny, I don’t have all day.”
Your eyes narrowed at him. “Sorry, it’s a little hard to walk considering my foot was just in a bear trap.”
Eris tsked, looking down at your ankle before his eyes trailed up your form. He let out a sigh and strided back to you. Before you could even figure out what he was doing, he grabbed you by the waist and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
You squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing?! Put me down!”
“Like I said, I don’t have all day,” Eris said, stalking off towards the border to Spring. You jostled on his shoulder with each step he took but he held you firmly with an arm around your thighs like you weighed absolutely nothing. 
You pounded on his back with your fists. “Ugh, Let me down!”
“You even hit with the strength of a rabbit,” Eris laughed to himself, ignoring your attempts to free yourself from his hold. 
“Jerk,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as you dangled there. 
Eris just laughed again. You bickered with him all the way to a clearing where he finally came to a stop and put you down. You huffed, smoothing down your dress and hair as you glared up at him. 
“You’re welcome,” he purred with an arrogant smile. 
The shadows around the clearing seemed to move in a flurry and then a familiar face stepped out of the darkness. 
“Get away from her,” Azriel growled at Eris.
Eris held his hands up, that smile never leaving his face as Azriel stalked towards you. His eyes narrowed as he sniffed, smelling the blood on you.
“Did he hurt you?” Azriel asked, his tone dark. He grabbed you by the arm and yanked you to his side, causing you to stumble. 
Before you could even open your mouth, Eris cut in.
“Must you have such a low opinion of me, shadowsinger.” Eris wore that fox-like grin again. “I haven’t harmed a single hair on her head.”
Azriel looked to you, waiting for you to verify his story.
“He speaks the truth, Azriel,” you said, clutching your ankle. “I ran into a bear trap on my own. He helped me out of it and brought me here.”
“And why were you running?” Azriel tossed Eris a glare.
“His d-dogs scared me. But they’re friendly,” you replied, trying to ease the tension in the air. 
Eris scoffed, as if no one had ever referred to his hounds as friendly before. 
Azriel looked at you with exasperation. “Come on, let’s get you home. No need to linger here.” He glared at Eris one last time. 
Before you could protest, he hoisted you up into his arms. You glanced at Eris one last time to see a moment of shock cross his face as he met your gaze.
“Thank you,” you called out as you gave him a small wave before you were swept away in the shadows.
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
You didn’t see Eris again for months. Not until Winter Solstice, when it had been decided that Nesta would try to intrigue him enough to keep him as a steady ally. When Elain had declared that she was going to join the Inner Circle in the Court of Nightmares, you had demanded to be taken as well, despite arguments from nearly everyone. But you were tired of being treated like a baby.
You had gotten your way in the end, after agreeing to strict orders to stay at the foot of the dais the entire time. It wasn’t ideal but it was something…better than staying home. 
You were dressed in a black tulle, A-line gown. The bodice was sheer but adorned with lace appliques embedded with shining silver gems. It had a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder lace straps. It swept the floor with tulle and lace, pooling at your feet like dark water. It was beautiful, more girlish than the dress Nesta was wearing but not as plain as Elain’s modest, long-sleeved dress. 
You stood at the bottom of the dais next to your sisters, between the two Illyrian warriors, as your sister addressed the crowd. Eris was standing next to Keir at the head of the gathered crowd, dressed in Night Court black himself. It was hard to deny how truly beautiful he was—especially with his striking red hair contrasting the black so well. You could feel his eyes on you from time to time but kept your gaze forward. 
 “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you,” Feyre declared. 
Keir was the first to approach with a low bow. “Allow me to extend my congratulations.”
“And allow me to extend mine as well, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.” Eris had stalked forward as well, giving your sister a pretty, cultivated smile. “He shall be thrilled by the news.” 
“I’m sure he will.” Rhys kept his eyes trained on the Autumn Heir. “Music!” 
An orchestra began playing and Feyre raised her voice and said, “Go—eat.”
The crowd slowly began to dissipate. Keir also disappeared as half the crowd began to dance seamlessly to the music. 
“Before you join the merriment, Eris,” Rhys drawled. “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”
You tuned out the conversation, taking in the rest of the throne room. It was your first time here in Hewn City. It was as monstrous as expected. But beautiful still, in the dark way that screamed Night. 
You tuned back into the conversation just as Feyre spoke, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” 
She looked at the three of you, as if deciding who she would offer to the Heir of Autumn even though it had already been decided. Elain gave a passable impression of appearing interested, as she had been directed to. Nesta just looked bored. Rhys and Feyre had given you no direction, claiming Eris would be tempted more by power and a wide-eyed, young girl, as they had called you, would not be of interest to him. 
“My oldest sister shall take my place.” 
But it was like Eris hadn’t heard Feyre speak as he stepped forward and stopped in front of you, not Nesta. You blinked at him, your brows raising with confusion as he extended his hand to you, an open invitation. 
“I’ll take the little bunny,” Eris purred with that fox-like grin. He kept his amber eyes on you, not looking towards Feyre despite speaking to her. “If the Lady agrees, of course.” 
“I-I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the dances, my Lord,” you said, politely, ignoring the hand outstretched to you as your cheeks turned red at the attention. 
Eris didn’t back down. “That’s quite alright. I’ve been told I’m a good lead.” 
You glanced at Feyre and Rhys, uncertain of what you were supposed to do. This wasn’t the plan. Eris was never supposed to take interest in you. You were a speck of dust compared to the power rolling off Nesta—power, the only thing he was supposed to care about. 
You felt talons scrape your mind and let your sister in.
Just go with it for now. We’ll send in Azriel to take over before it goes too far. 
You slipped your hand in Eris’s hold and let him escort you to the dance floor just as the dance finished and the introductory strains of the next began. You couldn’t wipe the wide-eyed look off your face as much as you tried to. You placed your free hand on his shoulder just as his broad hand slid around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.
You blushed, somehow turning even more red than you already had been. 
He leaned down to whisper in your ear just as the violins began their song. 
“And so the fox ensnares the bunny again.” 
Your eyes narrowed at him. “Stop calling me that.” 
“Why?” he purred, beginning to lead you into the dance. “It just seems so fitting.” 
“It’s not,” you grumbled, trying not to stumble over your own feet. You were lucky that this waltz was similar to the one from the human lands or else you would have surely embarrassed yourself already. 
The pair of you finished your first rotation around the dance floor in silence but that smirk never seemed to leave Eris’s face to your annoyance. Flame simmered in his eyes, never leaving yours for a second. You felt something flutter in your chest. 
“So,” Eris finally spoke. “Have your owners finally let you out of your cage?” 
“I am not caged here,” you murmured. “Just because they don’t find you pleasant company, doesn’t mean I haven’t been allowed around others.” 
You snapped your mouth shut, a brief wave of horror passing through you. You had just insulted him. You had just done the opposite of what was supposed to be happening tonight. But to your surprise, Eris just chuckled, not seeming offended at all. 
“Do you find me unpleasant, Lady?”
“I remain undecided, my Lord,” you said. “Though everyone certainly has a lot to say about you.”
“What lies have they told you about me, sweetheart?” He twirled your around again, your skirt swishing in the air. A faint fluttering of butterflies grew in your stomach. 
“What are these lies you speak of, my Lord?”
You tried to channel your sister but it came out so wrong. You didn’t sound as aloof as her. Nor as cold. 
“Don’t try to play the game they want you to.” Eris’s smirk grew into a grin. “It does not suit you, bunny.” 
“Maybe if you stopped playing games, I wouldn’t feel the need to as well,” you muttered with a frown. Eris’s grin sharpened. 
You were failing at this task. Failing so profoundly that it was embarrassing. You hoped your family couldn’t hear this conversation. 
“This is not a game to me, little bunny,” Eris purred, his grip around your waist tightening. “None of it is.”
“Your behavior seems to say otherwise. So does your reputation.” 
“Do I not ally myself with this court under constant threat of being discovered and killed by my father? Do I not offer aid whenever Rhysand wishes?” 
“That matters little to me, my Lord,” you said. “I am not a piece on this political chessboard you seem to have with Rhysand.” 
“So what matters to you, Y/n?” Eris kept pace with the other dancers and you followed his lead as best as you could. “Tell me. I wish to know.” 
Your hand slipped from his shoulder, down to his chest and right over his beating heart. “This. This is what matters to me. I would rather someone good of heart over someone with power.” 
“How sweet,” Eris teased. “How naive.” 
“Gods forbid someone be hopeful for the goodness of people to be the change in this world,” you bristled. 
To your surprise, Eris merely smirked once again. “Goodness cannot exist amongst cruelty, sweetheart. Just as hope cannot exist under the burden of responsibility.” 
You studied him closely. “Aren’t you tired of putting on a show, Eris? I have seen monsters. You do not seem like one of them.” 
Eris yanked you closer and your heart began to pound in your chest. “Then I’d say you haven’t seen enough of the world and its monsters if you truly believe that, bunny.”
“Stop calling me that!” 
“Wide-eyed, fluffy tailed,” Eris listed off, his fox-like grin returning. “Still has hope that she can change the world. I have seen this story, sweetheart. I know how it ends. Perhaps it would be best for you to return to your safe, little burrow where you belong.” 
A wave of anger crashed into you, your body heating up. 
“You don’t get to tell me where I belong. No one does,” you huffed. “Especially not a jerk who doesn’t have dreams of his own and lets everyone else dictate who he is!” 
Eris didn’t seem perturbed by your impassioned speech. If anything, his grin seemed to grow. You hadn’t even realized the song had ended and that the two of you had come to a halt on the edge of the dance floor, too lost in your anger. 
“You’re just going to have to learn the hard way, sweetheart. You think having dreams and hope makes you something but it doesn’t. It can’t.” Your hand dropped from his chest as he brought the one he was holding up to his lips.  “You are only ever going to be what others think you are.”
He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before letting it fall to your side.  
“Sly fox.” He pointed to himself before turning his hand to you in a sweeping gesture. “Dumb bunny.” 
“I am not a dumb bunny,” you growled. 
“Right,” he drawled in a teasing manner that infuriated you. “And you are definitely not caged here, either.” 
Your eyes widened as he strode away from you, disappearing in the crowd but not before he tossed one last remark over his shoulder, “I’ll catch you later, bunny.”
You stared at his back as a scarred hand landed on your shoulder with a firm grip, knocking you out of your stupor. You looked up at Azriel, at his cold, unreadable face that stared down at you. 
“Come on,” he murmured. “I’ve been ordered to take you back home.”
And just like that, your night–and freedom—was over. Eris’s words and his stupidly handsome face haunted you the entire journey back to Velaris. 
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rainingriversofyou · 7 months
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Helion x Lady Autumn
A Court Of Thorns And Roses
Artist: hancorinne_
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animezinglife · 8 months
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"Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—and they fuck like it, too."
Lucien: [completely minding his own business]
Feyre:
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illyrianbitch · 16 days
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Of Our Own Devices
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For @erisweekofficial Day 1: Bargains
Pairing: Reader x Eris
Summary: Desperate to reunite with Lucien since his exile to Spring, you find yourself paying an unexpected price to his older brother.
Warnings: some mentions of death & injury, swearing, spitfire reader and a cunty eris. <3
Word Count: 3.2k
Part Two
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
The storm had rolled in with frightening speed.
It was one of the rarer, powerful storms of Autumn. The type that caused the sky to turn to charcoal, produced lightning that illuminated the canopy of fall leaves and made them seem like flickering, live fires. 
You stumbled into the dimly lit cabin, drenched from the rain that had come pouring down in sheets. The cabin was one you had never seen before�� a hidden refuge of Eris’s that you weren't aware existed. Despite its small size, it was surprisingly beautiful, furnished with deep, velvety fabrics. Eris had pulled you into the home without a word. 
Crossing your arms across your chest, you turned to him, watching as he shed his outer layer and hung it on a hook near the door. He moved to the cold, empty fireplace next, and with a flick of his fingers, he summoned a flame from his hand.  The flame danced briefly in his palm before he extended it toward the blackened wood in the hearth. 
Seconds later, a crackling sound filled the room, bringing the fire to life and filling the space with a warm, golden glow. Eris watched the flames for a moment. Then he stood up, facing you once more. 
"You promised me I'd be in Spring by tonight," you said. 
Eris tsked, brushing past you as he sat himself on a velvet, red couch. His scent lingered in the air—a smoky, strong aroma. A shiver ran through your body. You attributed the reaction to the influence of the rain on your warm skin. 
He didn't bother to meet your eye as he responded. "I promised no such thing. I said I'd take you to Spring tonight."
"Then take me."
He raised a brow and for a moment, you almost expected him to make a childlike comment, a brutish joke about the sentiment those words could hold outside of the context. But he didn't. His eyes, however, told you that he was thinking about it. It was unnerving, how you could read him so well, how years at Lucien's side had come with an unexpected consequence: becoming familiar with his brothers, too.
"It's a storm. Winnowing is risky in this weather," he said smoothly, voice as cool as ever. "I’m not risking both our lives just because you're impatient."
The wind howled outside the cabin, rattling the wooden shutters as you took a deep breath— in through your nose, out through your mouth. The eldest Vanserra noticed the frustration immediately, and your efforts to calm yourself dissipated as a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
“I’m not staying here,” you snapped. “I’ll walk if I have to.”
At first glance, the couch appeared almost pristine, but as the firelight grew and you paid closer attention, you could make out traces of dark grey, black, and brown hairs—the hair of his hounds.  The detail settled somewhere inside you. You weren't sure where.
“If you do that, you’ll either die of exposure or run into my father’s men. Either way, not a great plan.”
You froze, your hands tightening around the fabric of your cloak as you grasped your arms, fingernails digging into the material. “So my options are to stay here with you or die?”
He shrugged lazily, but the motion still held a sense of regality to it, an eerily elegant form. It made you even angrier.
“Seems so," he said, a smile forming on his lips. It was as warm and genuine as a snake’s kiss, much like the disarming charm you had come to expect from Eris.
You'd never spent this long with him alone, never needed to manage his calculated gaze or purposely chosen words without the buffer of Lucien. You would've gladly gone your entire immortal life without doing so. But you missed Lucien— your heart ached without him, longed to be near him, to have his laugh echo in your ears. And this was the only way to be with him again, even for a few days.
And Eris knew that. He knew it all. You assumed it was why he bothered to take you in the first place. It gave him the pleasure of knowing he had power– control.
Your blood boiled.
“Are you enjoying this?” You stormed toward him, standing over the couch as he stretched, clearly unbothered by the storm—or your anger. “Trapping me here, knowing I have no choice.”
“Trapping you?” He laughed softly, sitting up slightly to meet your gaze. “You came to me, Vixen. If you want to go, the door’s right there.”
The sound of the wind howling through the trees outside made his offer ring hollow. You struggled to rummage through your thoughts, through the anger, frustration, and disgust that he managed to stir in you.
The stupid, stupid nickname was all you could focus on, now. Memories of a younger you flooded your senses, memories of a younger Eris, one much less rigid, much more open, almost. An Eris you crushed on. You'd never admit the truth to anyone— that the reason you and Lucien had become so close, despite your natural connection, was because once upon a time, he was glued to his older brothers hip. And so you'd glued yourself to Lucien's.
Eventually, the years evened things out, and your feelings flowed from the eldest Vanserra to the kindest one. To Lucien.
Lucien. Your mind reminded you. This was for Lucien. Don't piss Eris off, don't ruin your chances at seeing him again. Don't engage—
"Stop calling me that, you arrogant prick."
Your hands dropped to your sides, instinctively curling into fists as Eris peered at you with a burning, amused stare. His amber eyes gleamed like a predator toying with its prey.
"I see Lucien's absence has impacted your ability to maintain that temper. Those breathing exercises not working well for you?"
Something twisted deep in your gut.
"Now that I think about it, I think I'll take my chances with the storm."
Before you could make a move to leave, Eris was standing, his chest now inches away from you as he peered down at you. You didn't move, then, only straightened your shoulders and met his gaze.
Eris wasn’t the beefy, broad-shouldered type that other males in the court might have been. He didn’t have large, bulging muscles meant to intimidate. Instead, he was a lean kind of strong, with a pointed nose and sharp features that cut through the dim light of the cabin. He exuded a different kind of intimidation, one that stemmed from his inherent authority and the staunchness of his posture. He carried himself like a prince—elegant and commanding, every inch of him a testament to his future role.
Beron was merely keeping the throne warm until Eris was ready to claim it for himself.
"We both know you're not going to do that."
You tightened your fists further. "And why not?"
"Because you aren't stupid, Y/n."
Eris cocked his head, his eyes narrowing as he studied your face with a cold, calculating gaze. His features were sharp and chiseled, the faintest freckles dotting his high cheekbones. 
"You're not going to risk losing your chance to see Lucien."
 He leaned down and his breath fanned your face, warm and mingling with the scent of cedar and smoke. His eyes danced across your face, moving from holding your gaze to traveling further down, lingering on your lips—on the scowl you wore on them—before he met your eyes again. The fire's flames grew larger, consuming the oxygen in the air that had already seemed to be thinning. 
You said nothing as he continued, "Uncurl those fists, take that soaked cloak off, and wait. "
You stayed quiet, taking a deep breath before you stepped to the side, purposefully brushing your shoulder against his broad chest as you moved. Despite your urge to resist him out of spite, you reluctantly removed your cloak and tossed it on the clean floor of the cabin.
Eris scoffed. "Really? Must you act like a child?"
The floorboards cracked as he walked and, faintly, he mumbled something about how his hounds were better mannered. Eris picked up your cloak, dusting it off with a gentle hand before hanging it up next to his own.
"I'm curious," he began, glancing over his shoulder as he walked towards the couch. "Does Lucien know?"
You glared at him. You were growing tired now, the exhaustion of the trip slowly growing deep in your bones.
"What are you talking about?"
Eris smirked, his gaze lingering on you with a knowing glint as he settled back on the couch. "I'm talking about how you're in love with my sweet, sweet little brother."
You stiffened, a wave of emotion crashing over you—cold and awakening, a nauseating mix of embarrassment and fury. 
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Eris's face remained insufferably composed, a cocky grin playing at his lips. His eyes gleamed with a self-satisfied spark.
"No need to lie. It's just us two here," he purred. "I've always enjoyed how honest we can be with one another. It's why I preferred you over Jesminda."
A sharp, uncontrollable heat seared through every nerve in your body, a wave of anger surging like a wildfire.
"Keep her name out of your mouth."
It felt like a disgrace to have him say it, to hear her name immortalized on the tongue of the brother that allowed her to die. The brother that had killed her, according to Lucien. His sobs still echoed in your mind, the image of a broken male etched into your memory. You'd had only five minutes with him before he fled, five minutes of frenzied packing, desperate promises, and anguished confessions of what his father—and his brothers—had done.
Eris's gaze lingered as he analyzed you.
A beat passed.
Then another.
You were beginning to feel naked, as if he had stripped you of every defense you'd managed to muster around him. You turned away, unable to bear the weight of his stare any longer.
"I didn't kill her. I didn’t help.”
Your face went slack, caught off guard and momentarily confused. You pulled yourself together quickly, straightening your back, hoping he hadn’t noticed your reaction.  As you turned a little, your face almost sad now, you could’ve sworn you saw something in his eyes—something akin to regret, maybe even compassion.
Your voice was low, not bothering to hide the sadness, mourning, the raw anger, as you responded.
“I don’t believe you.”
The trace of care in his gaze vanished as he shrugged, the same indifferent gesture he’d made earlier. “Have I ever lied to you?”
You stared at him, taking him in with the same analyzing gaze he'd offered you. 
It was strange how alike he and Lucien looked, how alike yet so different all the same. But the longer you stared, the more you began to feel stuck— hypnotized, tempted to walk closer to him, to ask him what it was that went on in his mind, what caused those flickers of emotions you couldn't name across his face. 
But another moment passed, and all you could see was a male who Lucien hated, a male who was selfish, who reveled in the pain caused by chaos.  Your mind drifted to other rumors and stories you’d heard about him. You settled on one in particular. 
"You left an innocent female to die in the woods because she didn't want to mary you. Butchering your brother's lover doesn't seem outside of your past-times."
A cold shift washed over Eris’s face. His disinterested expression hardened into a mask of disappointment, then flared into a simmering anger. It was a contained fury, like a finely tuned flame.
"Don't tell me you believe the lies of Night Court trash. Surely you're smarter than that. I know you are."
"Fuck you," you snarled. "You know nothing about me. I'm not going to let you play some twisted mind games with me. I'm not a doll."
He shook his head. "You are not."
A beat. Then a smirk grew on his lips. "But you are just as pretty as one, if we're still being honest. You're wasted in your one-sided love, Y/n."
You said nothing, turning to walk to the other side of the cabin. The corner held a bookshelf with carefully arranged volumes, a finely crafted wooden table, and a collection of artifacts on the windowsill.
Eris just laughed behind you, a sound so smooth and soothing that it felt sinful against your skin.
You resisted the temptation to snoop, to explore the cabin and bask in the rare vulnerability of the brother who had always captivated you in the most wretched of ways. It felt strange seeing him like this—relaxed, almost at ease— as if simply crossing the threshold of this modest cabin had stripped away the invisible chains and burdens only a prince could bear.
You stayed still and stared out the window, focusing on the sounds of the storm. You hoped that the rain would drown out the sounds of his breathing— sounds that rang too loud in your mind. You didn't want to know why he seemed to do that, why he lingered so deeply in your head. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
The storm raged on for a few more hours.
The time was spent in tense silence—at least for you. Eris remained on the couch, reading through a novel about the history of the continent. You would've never thought him to enjoy such a thing, to want to know about those outside of his court, of mortals, humans, no less.
And when the rain finally stopped, he rose wordlessly. With a brief gesture toward your cloak, he led you out, winnowing you the rest of the way in silence.
When you finally reached the border of Spring, a wave of relief washed over you.
The vibrant greens of the new season were almost blinding after the gloom of the storm. You took a step forward, eager to escape the tension that had gripped you for hours. You'd be with Lucien soon, be able to hug him, to tell him of all the things he'd missed in your life since his exile. 
But before you could move any further, Eris's hand closed around your arm. You turned to him with a glare, meeting his glowing gaze and infuriatingly calm smile.
“Are we forgetting payment?”
You strengthened your glare, gritting your teeth before you pulled yourself out of his grasp, reaching for the small bag hidden within your layers. 
Eris stopped you with a casual wave. “I don’t want your money.”
You stiffened, straightening your posture. The sounds of Spring echoed behind you, their vibrant melodies almost taunting as you lingered on the border. Eris’s smile shifted into a smirk, his eyes glinting with something dangerous, something that made you swallow instinctively. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner.”
You thought back to how he had offered to take you to Lucien, how this entire arrangement had been his idea. You should've held back, should've been more wary of his motives. But you'd been too excited, been too blinded by the joy of being with Lucien once more. 
“What do you want, Eris?” 
He took a moment to take you in fully, eyes scanning you from head to toe, and then he took a small step back.
“A bargain,” he finally said.
 “A bargain?” 
He nodded. “You will not tell Lucien it was me who brought you here.”
You frowned, a crease forming between your brows as you blinked at the male before you. Perhaps you'd heard him wrong. “What?”
“If he asks, you’ll say you bought off a hunter in Autumn, a mercenary. Whatever you’d like,” Eris continued.
You drew your brows tighter. 
“I thought you'd want to revel in the fact that he might somehow owe you. Prove your power, even."
Eris shrugged nonchalantly. “Then maybe you don’t know me as well as you’d like to think.”
He extended his hand, his palm open and the gleam of his ring-clad fingers catching the light. You hesitated for a moment, body still stiff with unease, with confusion. 
You scanned his face. Eris loved played games. This was no different. There was no point in reading into it. So you rolled your eyes and prepared to shake on it, reaching for his hand.  He pulled it slightly out of reach.
“What now?” You groaned.
He hummed in amusement.
“And when I come to get you to return to Autumn, I want your help.”
You raised a brow. “My help?” you asked, incredulously. "How the hell would I ever be able to help you?"
Your family had no title, no powers beyond a tame ability to fight and heal. You survived in Autumn because you were ordinary—and ordinary meant no one looked for you. Noticed you. 
“I want to call in a favor,” he clarified.
“What favor?"
"We'll see," Eris said with a smile and a tilt of his head. “I think you could help me out dearly."
You let his words settle for a moment. His eyes, glistening with a dangerous glow, seemed to hold something predatory, something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. There must've been an underlying threat in his proposition, something sinister you had yet to notice. After all, he was a male known for his ruthlessness— 
You stiffened.
He was a male. There was one easy way for males to assert their dominance, to gain pleasure, to accept payment. 
You took a step back instinctively and Eris’s gaze tracked your movement before returning to meet your eyes. A shadow flickered in his eyes, reminiscent of the dark, unsettlingly soft gleam you’d seen in his cabin when he first glimpsed your saddened expression. Seconds later, his face shifted to one of mild amusement. He rolled his eyes with an empty chuckle.
“Settle yourself, Y/n. Not that kind of favor. I can bed females without resorting to bargaining for their affections,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension.
A flush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks. You looked to the ground for a moment, taking a deep breath as you regained your composure. When you finally met his gaze again, he was already extending his hand towards you once more.
“A favor in the future in exchange for this time with Lucien,” he purred smoothly. “And your silence. Consider it our little secret.”
The smirk that grew on his lips was maddening and you could feel the heat of his gaze, the flickering fire of his amber eyes urging you to comply. Every instinct told you that binding yourself to him was a terrible idea.
You glanced back over your shoulder, looking to the green, sunny expanse behind you. Lucien was there, somewhere amongst the greenery, and with a simple bargain you'd be with him again. 
Without a second thought, you turned back to Eris and took his hand.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
happy eris week yall!!! rising from the dead specifically to post this lol, i fear i love this pairing so lets see if i decide i wanna write anything else for them. thank you for reading!! (i miss writing so so so much)
i might make this into a miniseries, so lmk if you’d like
to be tagged <3
permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 
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@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters
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yearning-for-autumn · 8 months
Note
So, here is my humble request 👀:
Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.
When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.
Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.
So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.
I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻
Would That I -- Part 1
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A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!
Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader
Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health
Word Count: 3,638
Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.
Part 2 Part 3
Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.
“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.
“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”
Rhysand cleared his throat.
“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.
“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”
His brow furrowed.
“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.
“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.
You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.
You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.
---
In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.
You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.
He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.
“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.
“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.
---
As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.
Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.
He loosed a breath.
“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.
“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.
“Yes.”
“Is Cass--?”
“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.
“Ok.”
Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.
“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”
You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.
“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”
You scoff.
“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”
Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.
“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”
Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.
“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.
Rhysand sighed.
“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”
---
It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.
You sat up worried.
“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”
“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”
You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.
“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.
You snuggled up to your eldest brother.
“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”
Azriel tucked you under his arm.
“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.
---
Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.
He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.
Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.
“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.
“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”
Eris rolled his eyes.
“Just show me your plans, Ash.”
“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.
“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.
In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.
He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.
It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.
When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.
Asher sighed,
“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.
“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.
“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”
“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.
“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”
“She is my mate.” Eris growled.
“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.
“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.
“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”
Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.
He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.
---
The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.
Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.
Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.
Disgust.
What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.
Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.
Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.
Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.
“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”
You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.
“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”
You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.
“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.
A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.
Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.
Would that you could be half as lucky.
Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.
---
There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.
“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.
“Eris will be there.” You said.
“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.
“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”
And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.
Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.
In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.
Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—
“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.
“What’s the magic word.”
“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.
A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...
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emiliamildner · 2 months
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"You came back to me"
I need her to finally give adult mature people a happy love story. Come on.
Also this is the best artwork I've painted this year. I don't think I can make anything better.
If you'd like to support my work, check out my Patre0n for early access, exclusive spicy art, work-in-progress of future paintings, printable files and more! ✨🗡️
Inspired by ACOTAR series by Sarah J. Maas
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danikamariewrites · 5 months
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𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥
Chapter One : Welcome Home
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A/n: sorry for the very long wait between chapters but I think that’s how it will go with this series. I really want to take my time and make sure I like each chapter before posting and I hope you guys like this one too.
Warnings: mention of trauma and abuse
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For forty-nine years the Forest House felt empty. But one bright afternoon the house miraculously felt full again. You have no idea how you knew the others returned. Something in your mind was screaming at you. Telling you that something changed. Urging you to look at the chaos.
Lady Briar raced to your room to tell you the good news. She was practically out of breath as she attempted to formally explain that your father and other members of the court had finally returned home. You broke down in joyful tears. Your father was home!
Nothing held your focus all day as you waited for him. No sketches or paintings. None of your books. You just paced your bedroom, even during meals.
By the time the sun had set you were on edge, wondering when he’d come to see you. When your father finally came to you he burst into tears upon staring at you. The first words out of his mouth were, “Look at you. My little flame, all grown up.” Those words hit you like a ton of bricks. The dam of your tears broke at the pain behind his words as you both silently mourned the time you’ve lost.
You threw yourself at your father. Wrapping your arms around his neck tight, like he’d be taken from you again.
Something was wrong. You knew it as soon as you made contact with him. His scent. His mental walls. Something terrible had happened to him. Discreetly probing your father’s mind you found a hole in his defenses that you could slip through. Pulling closer to him with the ruse of a longer embrace you dove into your father’s mind.
As you began your search an excruciating chill gripped your mind. You saw everything and it was horrifying. Years of death and destruction and cruelty. Then, five boys, all older than you, standing by father’s side. Expect the one with longer hair. He was clearly estranged from your family. A woman standing with them who you’re the spitting image of. Her red hair and freckles are the ones you see in the mirror everyday. The seven High Lords. A human girl beating the evil queen. Everyone freed.
It took all your strength to not scream as the images flashed quickly. To not push your father away from you. You had a hunch he had been lying to you, but not like this. The longer you held onto the male your skin felt like it was on fire.
Beron let go of you, holding you by your shoulders to take you in. “Gods,” He whispered with a wide grin, “look at you. I’m so sorry I left you, little flame. I promise you I will make up for all the time we missed together.” Beron caressed your cheek. It took all of your strength not to flinch away from his burning touch.
“I know you will, father. Can you stay for a bit longer?” You slightly plead like a child would. “Not much longer, little flame. There’s a lot to do, but I’ll come see you everyday.” He promised. You catch up for a few more moments before he leaves. Once Beron was down the stairs you let out a long, shaky breath. You began to pace again as a new kind of anxiety rushed through your body.
As you took deep breaths and shook out your hands you thought about everything you had ever been taught. Everything you read about in the library. Beron and Lady Briar must’ve hidden the books that were truly important in anticipation of your trips to the library. They had to. There was so much missing.
From battles to the history of your mother there was nothing. And five, perhaps six, brothers? Maybe you had been looking in the wrong places. Your stomach churned at the thought of Beron and Lady Briar making up a whole history of the court to teach you.
You no longer know the man you call father. The male you once thought of as your protector is now a stranger to you. This thought didn’t upset you. No, it angered you. You’ve had fifty years to perfect your powers without your fathers supervision. It was time to use it against him. Beron wanted a weapon and now he has one.
Waiting until the Forest House was asleep you donned your black cloak, heading down the stairs. You stick to the shadows rushing to one of the side entrances of the main house you’ve been using. Silently stepping into the house you headed towards the bedroom wings, ignoring the library for the first time in five decades. The truth you are searching for isn’t in the stacks but the minds of your family.
Cauldron that’s odd to think. Family. A small smile pulls at your lips as you approach what you think is your mother’s room.
Noticing the guards outside her doors you fall back into the shadows, darting into a hidden servant's passage. Pressing your back against the wall you mentally prepare yourself to breach your mother’s mind. Cauldron, is this wrong? You asked yourself. The downside of not having a tutor for your powers is not knowing how you should use them or how to ethically use them.
But, if you are using them to save your family from Beron then it was fine. Right? Yes. He is evil and a liar. You nodded at the finality in your own head.
Resting against the dark passage wall you close your eyes. Focusing on your sleeping mother. On her unguarded mind and began sifting through her horrid memories.
By the time you raced back to your tower you couldn’t hold the tears back. The churning in your stomach returned as the images of Beron’s abuse on your siblings and mother flashed in your mind. Throwing yourself on the floor you began to violently shake.
It wasn’t just the abuse that got to you. It was the fact that he lied to them about you. And so…there was no word for it. Awful, everything was just awful. How could he take you from them?
tag list: @mirandasidefics @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @rachelnicolee @lilah-asteria @miadialila
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elleybug · 2 months
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Very long hair Eris in black attire 🍁
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primulagoldworthy · 25 days
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Helion, High Lord of Day. 🌞
I was always suspicious if he was, in fact, Sellyn Drake. I'VE FIGURED IT OUT.
Sellyn Drake = Sellin' D(ay) rake.
C'mon, it can't be a coincidence?! 😂
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Art by: _inkye on Instagram.
Commissioned by @melphss
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iocaisaint · 26 days
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@nerisweek Day 7: Free Day// made by tasbaqaart on Instagram, commissioned by me
Based off this canon interaction below 👇🏾, Nesta & Eris together would be the ultimate history nerds.
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Have you never seen it?” Eris asked by way of greeting, tracking her stare.
“No.” She looked away from the unnerving peak.
“Why is it sacred to you?”
Eris shrugged, and Nesta knew Cassian monitored his every breath.
“There are three of them, you know. Sister peaks. This one, the mountain called the Prison, and the one the Illyrian brutes call Ramiel. All bald, barren mountains at odds with those around them.”
“We didn’t come for a history lesson,” Cassian muttered.
Nesta cut him a look. “I asked. I want to know.”
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