#and azriel LOVES to piss eris off | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tadpolesonalgae · 1 year ago

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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 4[*]

Azriel x Third-oldest-Archeron-sibling!reader

a/n: a truly beautiful friendship is always founded in chaos (it’s funny because of who Eris is in mythology)

Also, I would like to emphasise the bickering at the end is entirely whispered—enjoy

Warnings: Just general angst, sexual undertones, unjustly jealous!Azriel, swans (don’t even get me started on how scary they are, and don’t try to tell me otherwise if you haven’t been cornered by at least one)

Word Count: 6,618

-Part 3- -Part 5-

A voice is calling your name from somewhere: somewhere foggy, and distant.

A voice that really has no business interfering with the hot, male body that’s pressing you into the wall.

Large, playfully rough hands grip your hips, using his own to keep you pinned against the brickwork, groping your ass appreciatively.

You arch up into him, mouth opening over his own, tongue stroking and flicking. Fingers rake through his hair, turning it messy as you haul him closer. The lovely press of his cock against your abdomen, the ego-boosting sign of his appetite. He groans into your mouth, bucking his hips, and you drag the soft swell of your breasts over his chest. The cool night air scrambles beneath your skirts, making them flutter and billow, urging him closer.

The voice sounds again. Clearer; closer.

It’s strange how it sounds like—

The male body is forcibly torn off you, cold flushing your front, leaving the uncomfortable dig of brick into your backside. You blink away your haze, real world events crushing back down, slamming home when your eyes lock with sharp hazel. He’s clearly pissed. It’s probably the most emotion he’s ever shown to you.

How miserable.

“Did you forget we’re have dinner tonight?” He asks gruffly, hand still resting firmly over the male’s shoulder who’s looking warily between the two of you. It dawns on you what he’s just seen you doing, the position he’s caught you in; heat swallows your body whole. The shameful, humiliated type, and you force yourself to keep his gaze. Beg yourself not to hang your head.

“I’m not going,” you manage, eyes flicking away from his. “I already told Fey, and she said it was fine, so…” His brow narrows, attention piercing into you, judging. “They’re not compulsory, anyway,” you mumble, “so really I— there’s no reason for me to be at one.”

“It’s a family dinner. There’re plenty of reasons for you to be there.” His eyes flick to the male who just had you pressed between him and a wall, “unless something more important comes up.”

There’s no obvious sign, but he’s agitated. Irritated. Maybe a foul mood.

Azriel releases the male, eyes flicking over his shoulder—a sure dismissal. When the male refuses to leave, Azriel’s shadows thicken. Definitely a foul mood. “Is there something I can help you with?” He mutters sharply, piercing attention zeroing in on the male—Bas.

His golden eyes turn on you, peering warily, “who is this? You said you were on your own.” Heat washes down your spine, gaze flicking between them, wishing for the floor to open up under your feet. “He’s—nobody. Just a—…” You fumble, unsure what to say. “Acquaintance,” Azriel finishes for you, hairs rising at the back of your neck as he stares at you. “A friend of a friend.”

Bas’ lips lift into a smirk, and you pray he’s going to keep his mouth shut for once. But he turns to Azriel, standing less than an inch shorter than the shadowsinger, “I don’t see what business you have with a friend of a friend,” he drawls, making both of you stiffen.

The dim faelights gleam in his intelligent golden eyes, bringing out the rich darkness of his skin, the outcropping of his sharp jaw, the thickness of his hair that hangs in lovely, rough locks.

Azriel’s eyes narrow, shadows coiling at his back, peeking over menacingly large wings, “and what business do you have with her? She has plans for tonight.” One of Bas’ brows quirks in subtle challenge, and you brace yourself. “Considering she sought me out, I think her plans have changed,” he says, that provocative smirk still tipping his lips.

“Bas…” you murmur, stress tensing your muscles.

Both of their attention switches to you, and your mouth seals itself shut.

Azriel shakes his head, “she’s coming with me. Don’t bother her again, Bas.” The words are final, and you can tell the conversation is over. Bas doesn’t back down, though. Always ready for a bit of rough and tumble. Practically lives off the edge. “Now I didn’t realise she was your property, Az,” he drawls challengingly, his attention then settling over you. “And you should have told me who this other person was, sweetheart.”

They know one another?

“She’s not your anything,” Azriel says, a rough sharpness to his voice. “Back off, Bas.”

The male doesn’t budge. Instead his gleaming eyes fall on you.

Oh no…

“Sweetheart?”

Heat warms your skin, gaze darting anywhere but the two males before you. You really don’t want to go to the dinner. To see all of them so soon after the mess that happened precisely one week ago… And it would be weird to show up after having said you weren’t going. What if you went and there wasn’t enough food? She has enough on her plate, she doesn’t need to worry about extra dinner guests.

You’re staying with Bas.

Hazel meets your gaze, and words stumble. “I…” I’m not going to the dinner.

“You…?” Azriel repeats, jaw tightening.

You flush, eyes lowering, heat warming your cheeks against the cool night air.

You turn to Bas, and he frowns. “Sorry,” you say gently, “I should see my sister.”

The wings at Azriel’s back loose a slight bit of their tension—still pulled taut. “Right, let’s go,” he says, cutting off any communication, “we’re already late.” You shoot Bas an apologetic look as you move to follow behind Azriel—keeping his gaze ahead. He merely shakes his head, giving you an easy smile, “find me after, okay?” A wave of gratefulness washes over you, and you push every drop of it into the thankful look you send him. Then you turn, hurrying down the uneven cobbles after the Shadowsinger.

He’s silent when you catch up, walking at his side, a pace behind. He doesn’t look at you once, continuing down the road that will lead to the River House. Fighting down the humiliation, you clear your throat. “Can you—” You nearly trip, righting yourself a second before your tipping point. Stumbling, you scoop the fabric of your long dress into your hands, raising it out of the way of your feet.

He continues walking, though slows a little as you scramble after him.

“Azriel,” you say, a little breathless. “Azriel, wait.”

He halts suddenly, making you flinch with the abrupt stop. Sharp hazel eyes press down on you, and you falter. “Yes?” He asks. Fumbling for words, your eyes flick out from under his, skipping over the shops in the darkening streets. “I—…” you begin, unsure what to say. “Can you…can you not mention any of that?” You request softly, embarrassing heat warming your cheeks.

“Who would tell?” He replies coldly.

Humiliation settles in the pit of your stomach. You lower your head a little. Nod. “I didn’t want you to think…”

“I don’t make a habit of interfering with other people’s business,” he says pointedly, watching you. Why does it feel like he’s scolding you?

Your lips press together, shoulders curving inward almost imperceptibly.

His eyes flick to your hair, and his hand raises, as if to shift a strand—tuck it away. But he stops, noting your gaze. “You need to fix your hair,” he says, a touch softer than before. “It’s obvious what you were doing.” Shame is like a deadweight in your gut, hands feeling dumb as they attempt to neaten out a mess you can’t see. His eyes narrow when you lower them, and you both know it would be easier if he was the one to right whatever’s wrong with you. He doesn’t, though.

“I’m not like Nesta,” you say softly, a little shakily.

His brow narrows slightly, “nobody said you were. There’s nothing wrong about being similar to her.” Heat warms your skin, and you stumble under the look.

“I mean, that—what you…saw—that’s not normal. It’s not a… I’m doing doing any of that…”

“Drinking and fucking?” You flinch at the crude wording, and a gleam of apology flashes in his hazel irises. He watches you quietly for a moment, and you shift under his gaze, hands moving to rest on your elbows, dress swishing close to the ground.

“You know it’s fine if you are,” he says, gently. “As long as you’re being sensible about it,” he adds, “there’s nothing wrong with doing that if it works.” Your lower lip wobbles at the implication—that he knows you’re doing this to try and get over him. How desperate you’ve become.

“But find someone other than Bas,” he says, making you furrow your brow.

“What’s wrong with Bas?” You ask. He’s been great. Azriel watches you silently again, hazel eyes piercing into you blankly. Has your lip-tint smudged?

“He’s not…” Azriel begins, as if debating how to frame what he wants to say. Make sure you’ll understand. “You shouldn’t spend your time with someone like him,” he settles on.

“‘Someone like him’?” You echo, looking back up the street to where the two of you had been. Heat crawls up your spine, and you hastily look away.

“He’s different from you,” Azriel says, bluntly.

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you argue softly, peering at the cobbles. You hear him sigh, as if he doesn’t know what to do with you. “He can’t give you what you’re looking for. He’s the type to string you along until he’s bored, then never visit again. Stay away from him.”

“He hasn’t done anything bad…” you say quietly, shifting lightly from foot to foot. “He’s been…he’s been very nice.”

Azriel sighs again, and that funny feeling settles in your stomach. Disappointment tickling your insides. “That’s to draw you in. As soon as you try to bring him to a dinner, or to meet one of your sisters, he’ll bolt.”

“Why would I bring him to meet any of you?” You ask bitterly at the lack of confidence. “Do you plan to keep your partner a secret?” He counters with, tersely. “Maybe.” You reply defensively, still looking at the ground.

He’s quiet again, and you can almost feel the air shift. “Need I remind you of last week’s events,” he asks, quietly. “You’re not known for keeping your mouth shut.” You bite your lip to keep it from trembling, nails digging into your elbows. “And I thought you didn’t make a habit of interfering with other people’s relationships,” you murmur.

“I know they’ll make good decisions,” he counters. “You don’t have enough experience. To know what you’re doing.”

“Stop treating me like a child,” you whisper, head dipping. “I know what I’m—” you cut yourself off as a sob tries to work its way from your throat. Take a deep breath. Swallow. “I know what I’m doing,” you manage quietly.

“You’re going to get yourself hurt,” he argues. “You don’t want to damage yourself like that.”

Your body stiffens at the words, then a breath eases from your chest. You nod. “Okay.” You begin walking again, one foot in front of the other. He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like that.” You keep walking.

“I’m trying to help you,” he says flatly, falling into pace.

“Okay.”

“So you’ll stay away from him?” Azriel asks, eyes falling on your smaller frame.

“Okay.”

His brow narrows on you, watching intently. Then, “look at me.”

Look at me.

The feeling of his fingers inside of you, close enough to share breaths, yet you were the only vulnerable one. Not an ounce of intimacy to be exchanged. You keep walking toward the River House.

Azriel doesn’t say another word.

————

In the end, you’re somewhat glad you went to the dinner.

If you hadn’t, you would be back here, in the mortal lands.

Well, with no wall, you’re not sure what to call your previous homeland. But you’re here, nonetheless, and all thanks to Elain. She’d wished to see Lucien, who had near permanent residence in the mostly intact house, and had invited you along with her. Whether she knew you needed some time away, or simply offered, you don’t know.

You’d arrived most likely around an hour ago, Fey and Cassian departing soon after, leaving you and Elain to spend the day as you pleased. You’d opted to take a stroll around the gardens, walking alongside the river that was just beginning to refill after an apparently hot and dry summer.

That was your first encounter with Eris.

You nearly jump out of your skin when he winnows to the river bank mere feet to your left, stumbling backward a few steps in surprise. Cutting caramel eyes pierce into you with razor-sharp scrutiny, noting your pointed ears. His brow narrows as he takes you in; he doesn’t look pleased with what he finds.

Blinking, you mark the blazing colour of his hair, the beautifully tailored finery, the flicker of flame in his eyes—remarkably similar to Lucien. “What…who are you?” You manage, calming your heartbeat. It’s a nonsense question, you realise—it’s obvious who he is. Anyone could figure it out through simple deduction. So you shake your head, “why are you here?”

Eris’ eyes narrow on you, then he’s striding forward, moving up the river bank until he’s come to stop before you. You take a single step back—if you have to crane your neck to look at someone, you’re too close. He’s remarkably imposing with his height and muscle, despite the inherent beauty of the fae.

“Who are you?” The words are short and efficient in a sharp, brazen way, and you find yourself wondering if you should have just continued on your way. “I’m—” you open your mouth to give your name, then realise it would be rude to assume he knew who you were. There’s no reason for him to. “Feyre’s my younger sister,” you supply instead.

His brow narrows. “I didn’t know there were four of you.”

Heat flushes your skin, and you look away. It’s not an insult, yet you feel embarrassed.

“So, why are you here?” You repeat, a little quieter, trying to change the subject.

“I’m expected,” he replies shortly, turning to face the way you had come. “Why have you been kept a secret?” He asks. You mentally scramble for an excuse to continue on your walk. You don’t want to go back yet, and he’ll probably expect you to winnow, and you aren’t really in a talking mood at the moment. No excuse comes to mind.

“I haven’t been kept a secret,” you respond finally, falling into step a little behind him. “Not intentionally, anyway,” you add as an afterthought, frowning. He's walking fast, and you’d like more time to take in the scenery. At least he’s not winnowing.

“You haven’t been present at any meetings,” he counters, “I find it hard to believe that’s a coincidence.”

Your frown deepens, “why would I be at any of them? Elain hasn’t been to any, either. The only time you would have seen her is in the Hewn City.”

“Which you were kept away from, too.”

You come to a stop, watching him. His brow narrows as he’s forced to slow his pace, looking vaguely irritated. “I was there when you danced with Nesta,” you correct, “all of us were.”

Eris stares at you blankly and it’s an effort not to squirm. “I was there,” you insist, “behind Elain?”

He doesn’t remember you.

Well.

“So you’re good at remaining unseen,” he says, turning to set you into motion again. You hurry after him, a little taken aback at the compliment. It’s a nice way to think about it, a faint smile tipping your lips, “thank you.”

“It was a question.”

“Oh…” you say, smile vanishing. It hadn’t sounded like one. “I guess… I prefer it…”

“You and the Shadowsinger must get along swimmingly,” he mutters, continuing along the path, neatly avoiding muddied parts. Something you fail spectacularly at.

The comment registers in your mind and you stiffen, muscles contracting as you force yourself to continue moving. “Not particularly…” you hedge, uncertain what’s appropriate to tell him. You aren’t familiar with Court politics. “No more than anyone else, anyway,” you correct, soothing out the slight rumple.

“No? Not settling in well?” He asks. You could swear there’s some sort of mocking undertone to the question, but you can’t figure out what the taunt is for.

“I…I guess not?” You answer, slowly. “It’s not bad,” you add hastily, not wanting to talk negatively behind their backs. He might bring it up later. You repeat the thought in your head, then shake it, smiling faintly. He hadn’t even know you existed until a few minutes ago, yet you think he could be trying exploit you. How silly.

The result of an over-inflated ego. Maybe you really should stop fooling around with Bas—he’s giving you all sorts of ideas about the value of your person, and it probably isn’t healthy.

“I mean, it’s fine. Just…normal, I guess. Compared with the initial chaos,” you add, satisfied with the end result of your rambling. The house is in sight now. All you need to do is pass between the river and the pond, and—

You stumble.

Not literally—it’s more of a mental scramble. Because right there, where they weren’t mere minutes ago, are a pair of large, powerfully built swans.

Eris continues walking like the two beasts aren’t eyeing you up with those sharp, beady eyes. You can practically see the light catching on the small teeth hidden beneath the beak. Glittering with menace.

“Let’s go this way,” you say abruptly, pointing to the path that winds around the pond. He comes to stop, clearly irritated by the unnecessary hinderances you’re causing. “This way is perfectly usable. We go this way,” he turns, continuing forward, fear rising in y our throat.

You scramble forward, clutching the skirts of your dress, “Eris!”

His caramel eyes slice into you, piercing in their intensity, but you don’t buckle. “I understand that maybe they don’t seem as vicious as the creatures of Prythian,” you murmur, as if they can hear you, “but swans are still very dangerous. We should go around.” Again you point to the pathway, ears perked up for any signs the massive birds are approaching. “And I get that you have magic, but you can’t just go around butchering local animals if they get in your way. That’s not how things are done here.”

He stares at you, as if asking if you’re serious. You hold his gaze because yes, you’re completely serious.

“You know they won’t attack you,” he counters, “and you’re correct, they aren’t dangerous compared to the beasts in Prythian. So move aside.”

You shake your head, “they could break your arm,” you insist, refusing to budge. His brow narrows in a scathing scowl, “they could break a human’s arm. I am not human.” He walks around you.

“They’re still dangerous, Eris. We should really go around,” you urge, watching as he walks along the path, remaining rooted to the spot. “Just winnow,” he snaps, then looks over his shoulder. “Unless you aren’t strong enough.”

“I can winnow fine, but…” Even that’s too close to them. You firmly believe animals have a sixth sense humans do not—you wouldn’t put it past them to know they’ve been cheated. “Please, let’s just go around.”

He watches you with narrowed eyes, weighing; judging. You freeze beneath his gaze, refusing to even breathe in case it’s the wrong thing to do. He turns fully to you then, and you think he might listen to you. Relief washes over you, but—

“You’re scared of these creature?” He asks, amusement underlying his tone. You flush. “Like I said, they’re dangerous,” you defend, lowering your gaze a little.

“You know, you’re fae. They won’t attack you.”

Your eyes flick up, doubting. “Why would they act any differently?”

“We are creatures of magic. Greater than they are. They know it would be unwise to attempt anything.” You blink, having not thought of it like that. The fae had felt different when you were human, more intense, more concentrated in a way humans weren’t. You hadn’t considered maybe other animals would understand that primal difference, too.

Eris’ lips twitch, and he holds out his arm—you’re completely certain it’s a mocking gesture this time. But also a challenge.

It’s also a prompt to face your fears. It’s been long enough.

You can do this.

You can prove to yourself there’s no need to be afraid of them any longer.

You take some small steps forward. Then a few more. And a few more after that. And then your arm is overlapping with Eris’, feeling the hot strength of muscle cording his forearm. An odd feeling of security settles over you, as the two of you begin to move forward.

You’re unable to help tensing as you pass them, even if Eris is on the side closest to them. Then to your dismay, he stops. “You can pet them, if you want,” he says, lips still quirked in the corners. He’s enjoying watching you shake and tremble at something half your size. “Are you insane?” You mutter under your breath, staring at the white beasts that seem to be waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Eyes widen and you stare at him, “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean that.”

He watches you steadily, eyes gleaming as he turns toward the swans, forcibly dragging you with him, despite your protests. “Eris…” you mutter, digging your feet into the mud, but you nearly slip. “Eris, seriously, stop it.”

He stops; you sigh in relief, but the tension doesn’t leave your body—still much too close to the great birds.

“Go up to one,” he says, a smirk on his rosey lips. “Touch one, then you can go.” He’s enjoying this far too much for your liking.

“No way,” you hiss, trying to pull out of his hold. The swans shift at the jerky movement, and you still. You stare at him, but he doesn’t seem inclined to move. “They’ll definitely do something if I try to go up to one!” You argue, as softly as possible. He just hums, and you wish you had continued walking instead of addressing him. Then you could be looking for blackberries, enjoying the natural sounds of the outside.

But here you are.

“You’re fae,” he reminds, eyes gleaming as he watches you intently.

Muscles tremble, thoughts flash in and out of existence within your mind as you look at the swans, sat neatly on the river bank, just at the water’s edge. A few long steps there, then back, and it’ll be over.

He’s right—you’re fae. They won’t attack you.

Still.

His arm unlinks from your own, hand pressing gently against the base of your spine. Egging you on.

You exhale a heavy breath, then move forward. Silently cursing him—unkind as it is. One step at a time as you descend the bank. The wind seems to have picked up, and you’re grateful for your preternatural sense of balance as you move down the muddy slant, feet settling on the pebble-filled shore.

Just three more steps, and you can turn back.

Two more.

One more, and then you’ll be in reaching distance.

The beady eyes pierce into you, wings stiffening, and you force yourself to breathe deeply.

“Just tap one on the head, and it’ll be over,” he reminds from your back, a little too loudly for your liking. Like he’s trying to get them to startle.

You steady yourself, blocking him out.

Come on, you can do this. You’re twice it’s size, and have immortality on your side. You can do this.

Slowly, shakily, you take the last step forward, reaching out your hand.

Black eyes meet your own, and you falter.

The swan shrieks, the second one hissing viciously, wings flaring to strike. You jump away, feet landing on the slippery rocks of the river. The massive birds surge forward, beak opening to snap at you, and you stumble, yelping as you fall backward. Icy water soaks up to your waist, and the breath whooshes out of you, your arms covering your face as wings flap.

When you open your eyes, the swans have taken off, and you’re up to your ribs in freezing river water. Trembling and shaking, you ease yourself out, soaked from the waist down, clothes wet and icy against your skin as you shiver.

Up on the bank, Eris is grinning, eyes gleaming with mirth as he watches your soaked state shuffle from the river, barely keeping his laughter to himself.

“You said—” Your heart is still pounding, vision blurring a little as you fumble for words. “You said they— That they wouldn’t…” Your teeth are already chattering, and you have to get warm quickly. You know how deadly the cold can be. Even with a reinforced body, the cold is as vicious as you remember, softly sinking into your arms, numbing your lips.

“Every animal has a fight or flight response,” he replies, voice lilting with amusement at your terror. “It was foolish of you to think you were above that.”

“But you said—”

“If I told you to dip beneath the river for five minutes without coming up for air because fae lungs are larger, would you do it?” He counters.

“…I wouldn’t disbelieve you,” you stammer, lips numb from the cold, lumbering back toward the bank.

The water in your shoes makes it hard to climb the muddy slope, and you end up having to use your hands to keep yourself steady, gritty dirt sliding beneath your nails. “Why did you lie?” You manage, heart pounding from fear, blinking away tears. His lips are still quirked into a rueful smile, enjoying your terror.

Hateful, hateful, hateful male.

“Don’t blame your idiocy on me,” he says smoothly, offering you a viper’s smile as he turns to continue along the path, leaving you freezing and shivering, soaked in river water. “Anyone with half a brain would have been able to see through that,” he calls over his shoulder. Tears spill down your cheeks, and for once, you don’t think, or fret over the consequences.

You winnow, and land a smack square across his cheek. As hard as you can.

He blinks, startled.

Then flame ignites in his eyes, glittering ire blazing hot as a forge.

“Don’t you ever,” you snarl, “do something like that again.” Fury heats your body, and you feel like a physical warmth is wrapping around you, fingertips tingling as if glowing, skin itching just below the surface. “Do you hear me, Eris?” You repeat, rage sharpening your words as your lip pulls back from your teeth.

The flame banks in his caramel eyes, and he yields a step. It’s satisfying, until you realise why.

You are glowing. But it’s not the bright, warm golden of Feyre’s happiness.

It’s green, and vivid.

Hands the colour of radiant starfall.

————

The Mother seems to enjoy putting you through various trials.

You come to this conclusion as you resist the urge to press deeper into the firm heat of Azriel’s chest as he carries you through the air.

For reasons you can only guess at, Cassian was otherwise preoccupied, leaving the Shadowsinger to fill in. Now Elain understands your relationship with the male, Feyre can guess at the complexities, and Azriel is part of the mess, so it should be obvious you’ll fly with your younger sister, right?

Unfortunately, Lucien had to be accounted for.

He’s well aware of the history between the Spymaster and his mate, and while he would never ask Elain to avoid him, she can guess well enough it would make him unhappy. That’s how you end up in his arms, split between wishing to be anywhere else, and wishing to be able to bask in his touch without anyone questioning how close you would lean. As it is, you’re stuck between keeping your distance, and not leaning so far it looks like you’re attempting to plummet to the ground far below.

The group is moving in silence, passing over the final stretch, and you can make out the twinkle of lights in the distance—Velaris. They’d gotten caught up in—what sounded like—a rather heated conversation with the Autumn Court heir, while you had opted to wait outside. The hallway had seemed too cramped, and you weren’t sure if you could manage being pressed so close to him without making your discomfort obvious.

Azriel breaks the silence. “Was everything okay with Eris suddenly turning up?”

The question startles you from your inner thoughts, and you replay it to catch the beginning. “Yeah,” you reply, trying to keep your eyes off him. “He’s just a bit…” You fumble for words, but he’s already nodding, knowing what you’re getting at. “He’s a little intense,” you settle on, “but everything was fine. For the most part, anyway.” You’re rambling.

“For the most part,” he echoes, a soft question in his voice.

“Well, I ended up falling into the river, but you know how it is…” you mumble, suddenly finding the sky very interesting. More interesting than Azriel.

(Liar.)

“I don’t think I do,” he replies. “What does soaking yourself to the bone have to do with him?” He asks, grip tightening ever so slightly as you begin the descent. You really don’t want to tell him—it’s not going to win you any adult points. At best it’ll just show how emotional your are, and that means baggage.

“It’s a long story,” you hedge, trying not to cling too tight to him as your stomach lifts in your belly. “We’ve got a while left,” he replies, gazing ahead. He could definitely be going at a steeper angle.

You sigh softly, trying to figure out how to make it as quick and concise as possible. “Well…he kind of…appeared out of nowhere, and we ended walking back together.” Azriel’s fingers press into your skin lightly, slowly spiralling in wide circles, “and there was a river involved.”

You nod gently, “yeah.”

“How?”

Teeth worry your lower lip, mouth pursing.

He exhales quietly. “We’re in an alliance, but that doesn’t mean you should trust him. I need to know everything that happened so precautions can be made,” he explains firmly.

“Okay…”

“So tell me what happened when you were walking alone with him,” he prompts.

“There’s not much to say…” you try, but he gives you a look that tells you to quit lying. “I don’t know…we were walking past the river, and there were some swans, and he convinced me to touch one, and…well, I slipped and fell in.” You leave out the glowing hands part. If you mention it, you know they’ll pounce. You don’t want to go through what Nesta did. The things she had to endure just to activate her powers…

Granted, there’s no looming threat of the queen anymore, but still. You’d rather not.

“He convinced you,” Azriel mutters under his breath, “and how did he do that?” You flush with heat, and pray he can’t tell. “I didn’t want to walk past them, and he…encouraged me to tackle my fear.”

“Stop forcing a good narrative on that prick,” he says sharply. “He didn’t encourage you, he manipulated you.”

“Maybe,” you murmur, “but I’m a little less afraid of swans now.”

Azriel sucks in a steadying breath. “And what did you talk about?”

You cast your mind back to the conversation. “He said he hadn’t known there were four sisters,” you admit, quietly, “he thought there were only three, and that Rhys was hiding me, for some reason.” He hums, and your hairs stand on end, able to feel the resonance thrumming through you. You hurriedly shift your mind elsewhere before your scent changes. “What else?”

You put your teeth into the inside of your lower lip, “I…” said we weren’t on the best of terms. “He asked…how…I was settling in,” you manage to string the words together, selecting each one with great care. “And?” He prompts. Oh dear.

“I said it was fine,” you reply, purposely vaguely. His eyes flick to you, and your own snap away in response. “Just fine?” He questions, softly. You make to nod, but he mutters your name under his breath, a quiet reprimand on his tongue. Heat coils in the pit of your belly, making you shift uncomfortably in his arms, leaning away.

A muscle feathers in his jaw, and he tightens his grip on you. “Stop doing that. You’ll fall.” You’re squeezed closer to him, and you squirm, the heat doubling. He mutters your name again, rougher.

“Stop doing that,” you hiss, sharply. You don’t have time to feel bad—it’s better to be rude than for him to realise the immense effect he has on you. “Stop leaning away from me,” he counters, “you’re being difficult.”

“I’m sorry my responses are an inconvenience for you,” you snap, quietly. No louder than a whisper.

“Don’t weaponise your emotions like that,” he murmurs back.

“I don’t see how I’d be able to when I don’t even know what that means,” you return, quietly. You feel his eyes press into you, and you look further away, inspecting the ground. “Don’t feign ignorance either,” he says sharply, “it’s immature.”

“Immature is making a problem out of something I can’t help,” you whisper back, snappily. His eyes narrow on you, and you shift again.

His hold tightens abruptly, fingers digging into you as he roughly readjusts his grip on your thighs and around your back. You squeak at the harsh treatment, heat bursting in your lower belly, and you squeeze your lips together, praying no sounds slip out. “It’s like you’re trying to get me to drop you,” he mutters beside your ear, “just keep still. We’re almost there.”

“Keep still?” You repeat incredulously, staring at him. “I don’t know if you’ve somehow forgotten, Azriel,” you hiss, emphasising his name. Hazel eyes flick down to you, and you gently push away the heat for a moment. “But I struggle to even think straight when you’re around. I can barely keep my head as it is, so forgive me if I’m a little shifty in a position like this,” you snap quietly. Probably the most aggressive you’ve ever been for a consistent time period.

“And I don’t know if you’ve forgotten,” he snipes back, eyes piercing into you, “but you managed to pull away on the brink of an orgasm.” Wild heat swallows you whole, and there’s no way your scent is remaining undetected now. “So you’re clearly more in control than you say you are.”

You stare at him, lips parted, skin flushed with heat.

“We are done with this conversation,” you hiss, breaking your gaze away. He doesn’t appreciate the verbal dismissal. “We’re done when I say we’re done,” he hisses in return. “Now what did you mean when you told Eris you were fine?”

You purse your lips, pointedly averting your eyes.

He mutters your name, grip tightening on you. You ignore him.

He repeats it, rougher this time, shadows twining around you.

“Cut it out,” you whisper, sharply.

“Expand on the fine comment,” he pushes, and you can physically feel the weight of his gaze upon your cheek. “Why are you so hung up on that one, tiny part?” You return, a sliver of irritation peeking through. “Because you’ve been acting strangely for a while now,” he hisses, “and if you’re starting to spiral like Nesta—”

“Do not threaten me, Azriel,” you snarl softly, skin heating—tingling. His eyes flicker, and his hold lessens on you a little, “it’s not a threat,” he soothes, “just an observation.” You narrow your brow as you watch him warily. “Like I said: you’ve been acting strange recently, and if you even gave the slightest hint that something’s off, Eris will exploit it.”

Your eyes flick away, slightly embarrassed by your tiny outburst. That wasn’t appropriate.

“So tell me, what happened when you said you were fine?” He repeats, gritting out the question.

“I…” You bite your lip, then give up. “He asked if I was settling in well, and I said I wasn’t.”

“Why did you tell him that?” He asks, gaze returning to pick out Velaris, much closer now. “Because it’s the truth,” you reply, a little weakly.

“I don’t care if it’s the truth, you shouldn’t have told him,” Azriel hisses. “He’ll give you the comfort you want, offer the reassurance, until you’re wrapped so tightly you choke on it.”

Hurt flickers in your eyes, vision blurring. “Maybe if I was better than fine I wouldn’t need the comforting,” you snap, turning your head and blinking away tears. His jaw tightens, “that’s not the point.” You stare at him. He stares back, features set in a stony line. “What is the point, then?” You ask weakly, the small spark of fight banking, beginning to flicker out beneath his oppressive gaze. “The point is,” he says, dragging out the words like he’s talking to a child. “You’re too naive.”

It’s like a smack to the face, your head reeling.

“You don’t know the dynamics between the courts. You don’t know about the feuds, or the history of Prythian. You don’t know enough to be trusted to act on your own,” he continues, oblivious to the number of scars he’s striking. “You’re a loose cannon, that I now have to compensate for.”

You stare up at him, hazel eyes glittering beneath the starlight.

“What’s worse—”

You put your hands over your ears. You can’t take anymore. If it was coming from someone else—fine. From anyone else it would be fine; understandable.

But not Azriel. That’s too much.

His brow furrows, lips moving, and you can guess he’s telling you to remove your hands.

You shake your head softly, unable to stand another word.

But his shadows contract around your wrists, tugging them away, and you hate the heat the bubbles in your lower belly at the roughness.

“You need to grow up,” he mutters, lowly. “You can’t just run away from something if you don’t want to hear it. You’re going to have to face it.”

A sob breaks from your chest, and your hands cover your face as the tears finally break, spilling down your cheeks. “Just leave me alone,” you cry, shoulders shaking as the tears continue streaming. “You find me irritating? fine. You find me annoying? Fine. You think I’m the worst, ugliest, most useless female in the world, fine,” you sob, unable to look at him. “But keep it to yourself, because every single word from your mouth holds more weight that you can probably even understand. And it is crushing me.”

You tremble in his arms, wishing they were there to offer comfort instead of being purely obligatory.

“You think Eris is the viper? You think he’s the one who’s bad for me? The one who’s trying to choke me?” You ask through your tears. “But you’re the one succeeding.”

Azriel’s eyes harden, and you feel the fractures growing larger. “I’m trying to keep you in line,” he replies, coldly. “For the sake of my Court, my High Lord and Lady, I am doing my best to keep people safe,” he emphasises. “And you are a proving to be a burden.”

You don’t know if he intentionally selected that word, burden.

You don’t know if he even realises which wound he’s targeted—so many have been picked open.

But you go quiet in his arms.

Docile.

The fight finally winking out.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

CBMTHY Taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd

#Azriel #Azriel x reader #Azriel x Archeron sibling #Azriel angst #angst #CBMTHY #Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You #Part 4 #CBMTHY Part 4 #Eris

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erisweekofficial · 2 months ago

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Tonight we're delighted to highlight @jules-writes-stories 🧡

If you're looking for a truly exceptional Azris fic, you have to check out Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows. The writing is absolutely beautiful, and it strikes the perfect balance between hurt and comfort. Every detail feels so carefully crafted, from the portrayal of Eris and Azriel to each moment they share. 😭

Also if you are into myth retellings, we are begging you to read this Azris flavored Hades and Persephone retelling that she wrote for Azris week this year. 👀

And be sure to check out allll the fics on her masterlist!

Read on to learn what drew Jules to Eris and what the hounds would say if given buttons. 🐶

Give us a name for one of Eris's brothers!

Sylvan Vanserra is the youngest Vanserra (other than Lucien). He’s quick to laugh, never takes himself too seriously, and readers have called him a cinnamon roll, which is fair. Eris tried to shelter him and Lucien, so he’s less guarded than the other brothers, but don’t sleep on Syl. He definitely has fire in his blood.

Give us a name of his hounds!

Chunky Possum. But let me explain, lol. When I was drafting Just Enough Light, I named Eris’s hounds after (just a few) of my favorite Azris writers. They were meant to be place markers while I thought of original names. But the hounds liked their names, so I left them, and gave some of them back stories. Naming the hounds became a way to show my appreciation for a corner of the fandom that is dear to me. My favorite is Chunky, only because of his backstory. And yes, it will tug at your heartstrings.

What do you think it was like trying to raise Eris when he was a child?

Short answer: he was a little fire starter with a smart mouth. Being so brilliant, the fireling likely found ways around doing what he was told and bent the rules to suit his needs. Eris asked questions that stumped his teachers (sometimes on purpose and other times because he was clever and curious). He was full of mischief and a prankster. That said, he was probably under constant pressure to perform, making him highly competitive. I could see little Eris as being lonely, learning at a young age that attachments are liabilities and love must be earned through accolades.

What drew you to Eris?

I love monsters and for me, Eris Vanserra is one of the metaphorical monsters of this fandom. He’s both a scapegoat and a martyr. He’s sexy and fetishized: put on a pedestal as often as he's reviled and burned at the stake. I love how Eris can possess all these contradictions and still exist as a character with traits we all universally recognize. He’s interesting and I’m always left wanting to know more.

Who do you think Eris would want in his inner circle, if he was given a chance to build one?

Lucien. His favorite brother is a clever fox with ties all over Prythian and I want (need) them to be close with an urgency that’s not normal. Nesta Archeron. Eris is canonically drawn to her power and who wouldn’t want Lady Death to have their back? Bonus for Eris: it would piss Cassian off. Lastly, nothing would bring Eris more joy than stealing Azriel from Rhys...for so many reasons.

If Eris gave his dogs buttons to communicate, what would their options be?

If one wants Eris’s respect, they’ll have to earn it. And one way to do this is through his hounds because they are excellent judges of character. Eris believes that his smokehounds are likely more intelligent than most of the brutes he’s forced to associate with. No, he prefers not to give names– very demure, very mindful. After meeting someone, the magical canines communicate their first impressions of said individual by pawing at certain buttons with ratings spanning from “burn them alive” to “lukewarm, might burn later” to “that’s your cauldron blessed mate.” I wonder what the hounds would say about us…

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #azris #azris supremacy #pro eris vanserra #high lord eris #autumn court #eris creator highlights

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autumnshighlady · 2 years ago

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oh my god yes please

here you go my love ;)

How Eris, Azriel, Rowan, and Tamlin carve their names into your body

tw: 18+ (duh, minors piss off), knifeplay, bloodplay, dark themes, stalking, spanking, toxic relationship

note: this is 100% inspired by @gothicbabydollz fic linked here, it's amazing! thank you to @orangejump-suit for pointing me in the direction of it!

based on this ask

ERIS

You squirmed underneath the ropes, tugging at the red silk that held your wrists locked together. Two more strips bound your ankles to the bed frame keeping your legs spread open for the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

“Now, now, little fox,” Eris purred, nipping your hip with his sharp canines. “Quit whining. You know exactly why you’re here, don’t you?”

You nodded, biting your lip. After Eris ignored you for three days, you had decided to flirt with one of his brothers during a ball to get his attention. It had worked, the High Lord visibly seething from the other side of the room as you playfully touched his brother’s arm and laughed at something he had said.

At your silence, Eris reached up and landed a sharp crack across your cheek. You gasped, the imprint of his rings stinging your flushed skin.

“Answer me when I ask you a question, whore.” Eris hissed, using the same hand that had just met your cheek to grip your throat. “If you want to act like a slut then you shall get treated like one.”

You couldn’t help it – his words sent heat rushing to your core. It did not go unnoticed. “Pathetic.” Eris laughed, releasing your throat. “You like this, knowing I can do whatever I please to your body and you will be absolutely dripping. Since you want to act like a dumb slut, I believe it’s time you be reminded of who you belong to.”

You whimpered, expecting one of the usual punishments – perhaps a whipping with his favourite leather belt. But your eyes flickered to his slender hands reaching towards the dagger strapped to his hip, widening when he unsheathed the blade.

“My Lord?” You stuttered, heart racing, but not entirely with fear.

Eris pressed the cold blade flat against your stomach, smirking as you flinched. “Be very still for me, little fox.”

Huffing, you nodded. The High Lord smirked sadistically as he dragged the blade downwards, resting the tip on the pelvic area right above your pussy. Grabbing your hip with his free hand, he pressed the tip against your skin and carved. You gasped, eyes watering at the stinging sensation. It burned, and you whimpered and tried to keep your eyes open, just as Eris preferred.

E. Beads of blood began dripping from the wound.

R. The coldness of the blade contrasting with the warmth of Eris’ hand made your brain fuzzy.

I. The High Lord’s face was focused, green eyes almost black with lust as he artfully dug the blade into your skin.

S. The blood oozing from his handiwork dripped down your pussy, mixing with your juices, which had multiplied.

Tears streamed down your face as you sobbed, jaw aching from clenching it so hard. You flinched as you felt a slender finger swipe up your core, through the mix of your blood and arousal. Even in your state, your eyes widened as the High Lord brought the finger up to his mouth and sucked, licking it clean.

“Delicious.” He purred before wiping your tears away, smudging some excess blood across your cheek. “Almost as delightful as watching tears run down that pretty face of yours. Have you learned your lesson, my little slut?”

You nodded, core aching – it was almost shameful how aroused you were from your lover carving his name above your pussy. Eris was talented with a blade, knowing just how deep to carve enough to make it scar forever, a permanent reminder that you were his.

“Good girl,” Eris murmured, crawling back down between your legs and biting the inside of your thigh. “Next time you think of flirting with my brother, remember that he wouldn’t even come close to making you feel the way I can.”

AZRIEL

You shuddered as Azriel’s scarred hand wrapped around the hilt of truth-teller. His eyes were dark, shadows whirling around his large body as he strode towards you. You kept walking back until your spine hit the cold wall of your bedroom. This was not Azriel, the quiet yet kind soul who you had first met. No, this was the shadowsinger of the Night Court, stalking towards you like a lion cornering its prey.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You spat, clenching your legs together and cursing yourself for the heat in your core.

“Shut up.” He growled, twirling the blade once in his hands.

You and Azriel had a difficult relationship and had started off as friends. Once you started sleeping together, things got different. Azriel was possessive, snarling at any male who looked at you for more than a second. It drove you crazy, which led to lots of fighting and a, what many would consider unhealthy, on and off, love hate fuckfest. He would follow you home, then fuck you like an animal and leave. It was hot, but when he decided to be an ass last week and leave you unsatisfied as punishment for slapping him in the face you decided to get even. In one of your not so bright moments, you decided to bring home the Illyrian male whom you had spotted arguing with Azriel the other day. He must have smelled you on the male, and that’s how you ended up here.

“Get out.” You shouted, heart pounding. You were met with a scarred hand around your throat, gripping tightly.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” Azriel rasped in your ear. “Not until you’ve learned your lesson.”

Quicker than the speed of light, the blade in his hand sliced your nightgown open, exposing your bare breasts and cunt to him. The night air was freezing, sending goosebumps across your skin. He let go of your throat.

“What are you doing?” You asked, panting.

Azriel tilted his head, staring down at you with such intensity you were surprised it didn’t burn your face off. “Reminding you that you’re mine.” He said softly.

“Like hell I am,” You hissed in one last attempt to fend him off. “I can fuck whoever I want, you know. We aren’t together.”

His calm smirk sent chills through your bones. “No,” He purred, wedging your legs apart with his knee. “But you will always belong to me. No other male can touch you, or make you scream like I can. Seems like you need help remembering that.”

Before you could protest, the shadowsinger dropped to his knees. With one hand, he reached up and pinned your hips to the wall with brute strength. The other angled your leg to the side, elbow pressing it into the wall as he brought the blade up to the soft skin inside your thigh.

Panic arose in you, knowing where he was headed. “Don’t–”

Your voice was cut off with a strangled yell as Azriel pressed the sharp point of truth teller into your skin and dragged it, drawing blood. Your hand grasped his wrist, clenching so hard you thought it would shatter. Biting your lip, you muffled your whimpers of pain and squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. It was hard, the cold blade stinging your skin so painfully you knew it was meant to scar. You sobbed, free hand going to clutch his hair on instinct as a wave of arousal spread through your core.

Azriel chuckled darkly as he continued his work, the smell of your blood mixing with arousal and filling the room. When he was done, you panted, looking down to see a name carved in perfect letters along the inside of your thigh.

Azriel.

“You piece of shit--” Again, you were cut off by the shadowsinger, who flipped the blade around and shoved the hilt inside of you. There was no holding back your scream this time as the sting of your thigh and the painful need in your cunt sent you into a frenzy.

“You. Are. Mine.” Azriel growled each word as he fucked the hilt of Truth-Teller in and out of your dripping cunt. Deep down, you knew he was right.

ROWAN

The loud echo of your moan filled the room as Rowan pounded into you relentlessly from behind. His hands gripped your hips so hard you knew there’d be bruises tomorrow. Your entire body trembled, already having received three orgasms in the past thirty minutes. Rowan knew your body better than his own, and was angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Harder.” You moaned into the pillow.

Rowan snorted, still thrusting into you. “I’ll break you, princess.”

In your haze of pleasure, you scoffed. “No I won’t,” You panted between gasps. “I can tell you’re holding back. But I suppose I can always go for a ride with Fenrys if you’re not willing—”

That did it. Your sentence was cut off by Rowan’s territorial growl as he slammed into you so hard you felt it in your cervix. You tried to curse, but all words left your brain as the bed shook with the force of Rowan’s thrusts. One hand released your hip and lodged itself around the back of your neck, gripping tightly.

“You are mine only,” He growled. “Now shut up and take it.”

It wasn’t long before you came so hard you nearly blacked out, Rowan following shortly after with a roar. You were panting, body trembling as you collapsed into the bed with Rowan laying next to you moments later.

“That was more like it.” You sighed in bliss, legs still twitching.

Rowan laughed, brushing his fingers along the bruises that were already forming on your hips. “You look so pretty, all marked up by me.” Arrogance laced his voice as he traced the outlines.

“Too bad they’ll fade soon.” You huffed in disappointment – there was nothing you liked more than bearing the marks of Rowan all over your body like the finest jewelry.

You felt his movements freeze, and the space beside you was empty in an instant as Rowan got up.

“What are you doing?” You asked in confusion.

He returned moments later, blade in hand and already unsheathed. “Making it permanent.” He growled before pausing and looking at you. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” You said instantly, body heating up already at the dark gleam in his forest-green eyes.

A large hand gripped your upper thigh while the other brought the blade to your hip. With expert precision, the male growled with pleasure as he pressed the silver knife into your skin and carved.

You gasped at the painful sensation, the world around you spinning as Rowan held you in place and you felt him carve an ‘R’, followed by an ‘O’....

“Oh gods.” You whimpered, unable to focus properly as you realized what was happening. The mix of plain and pleasure was overwhelming, and your core ached with need as you watched Rowan carve his name into your hip. His sharp face was focused, white hair gleaming in the candlelight, the tattoos on his face making him look like a dark god claiming a mortal soul.

“Attagirl,” Rowan murmured as he carved an ‘A’. “Almost done, princess. You’re doing so good.”

Moments later, the blade lifted from your skin. Before you could say anything, a moan escaped your lips as Rowan bent his head down and licked up the blood. From the groan he released, you knew he enjoyed your taste in more ways than one.

Chin dripping with scarlet, the male looked up at you with dark eyes. “How’s that for permanent?”

TAMLIN

The High Lord of the Spring Court growled as his large hand came down on your ass once again. You yelped into the bedsheet, counting the tenth strike out loud. You were bent over Tamlin’s knees, your backside scarlet with large handprints scattered all across it.

A soothing rub came over the sore spot. “That’s my girl.” Tamlin said in that deep, velvety voice you loved so much.

You felt yourself being lifted upright. Tamlin turned you around, sitting you in his lap as if you weighed nothing to him. His blonde hair was messy, falling artfully across his handsome face as he smirked at you. Leaning forward, you kissed him, digging your nails into his neck hard.

Tamlin groaned, the sound sending heat straight between your legs. You did it again, this time dragging your nails ever so slightly against his skin.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, my love.” The High Lord growled at you, squeezing your thigh tightly.

You learned forward and bit the tip of Tamlin’s ear, causing him to shudder. “Scared you’ll lose?” You murmured, grinding into his hard length.

“You know I won’t.”

“Oh, but I think you will.” You accentuated your words by biting his neck so hard you drew blood. Tamlin groaned, his length growing even more between your legs and your chest swelled with pride at your ability to unravel the High Lord.

That pride, however, was short-lived. Tamlin grabbed you and tossed you back onto your front, then reached for his knife on the nightstand.

“You’re going to take it like a good girl,” He growled, straddling the back of your thighs and caressing your ass. “And you’re going to fucking like it, and not challenge me like this again.”

Before you could think of a smartass reply, you felt the tip of the blade dig into your soft flesh. You cried out, clenching the sheets as Tamlin began carving into your ass. Blood dripped onto the soft white sheets, but the High Lord did not seem to care. His only focus was on dragging the blade to form the letter ‘T’, and then an ‘A’....

You sobbed into the pillow, ass stinging in a way that paled in comparison to earlier. It burned like the hottest fire and the coldest ice, but you couldn’t deny the thrill it sent through your body at your normally firm yet gentle High Lord carving his name into your ass and marking you as his property.

It seemed like seconds yet years at the same time before Tamlin set down the blade, using the nearby cloth to wipe the blood away. He admired the sight of his name permanently engraved on your body and learned down, kissing the base of your spine.

“I win.” He murmured.

hope you enjoyed hehe

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stargirlfeyre · 4 months ago

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One thing that genuinely confuses me is when people say that the IC are horrible people who don’t care for Feyre and would choose Rhys over her but is that not completely discredited by the end of ACOMAF and beginning of ACOWAR??

like both Amren and Mor demand that Rhys get Feyre back from spring, they’re pissed that she’s been taken (and get even more upset after knowing she’s high lady) and IIRC doesn’t Cass have a line after he and Az save Feyre in the winter court about how angry he was while he was healing that he couldn’t protect her??

Isn’t the point of the Inner Circle is that they’re a family?? They love eachother and specifically they all love Feyre??

And it’s funny because when you think about it we have more scenes of the IC choosing Feyre over Rhys then we have of them choosing Rhys over Feyre.

Mor hiding Feyre from him after she found out about the mating bond?

Azriel blatantly ignoring Rhys at the High Lord’s meeting and only getting off of Eris when Feyre told him to?

Amren arguing with Rhys over Feyre being in the SC?

Cassian arguing with Rhys over the whole Hybern situation where no one knew that Feyre was High Lady?

In Acosf Cassian even questions Rhys about why he’s not telling Feyre about the dangers of her pregnancy so I don’t know why people act like everyone was just okay with it and never disagreed with him. They don’t take any other books besides Acosf into account. Legit I was once arguing with someone about this and they asked me if I read Acosf and I asked them if they read the four other books.

I’m going to take Feyre’s first hand account of her relationships with the Inner Circle more seriously then Nesta second hand account that is filled with hatred and bitterness. It’s like Nesta’s fans are just so upset that Feyre has other people (more important people) in her life besides Nesta.

#feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian #morrigan #azriel #amren #inner circle #pro inner circle #pro feyre #anti nesta archeron

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freyjas-musings · 6 months ago

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E/riel’s saying “The boy who is never chosen and girl who never gets to choose” will never make sense to make. Azriel was chosen by Rhys and Cassian to be their brother. He was chosen by Rhys to be the Spymaster. Elain did get to make her own choices when she was a human. She got to choose Graysen (who ended being trash) to be her fiancé, she chose to lose her virginity to him.

Hi Anon,

I think the choice thing is over dramatised by one side because it becomes an easy tool to sub due others and go on their pseudo feminist rants which pisses me off .... most them dont even know what feminism is ... its also something that is used very selectively .... every single character in ACOTAR has had a loss of choice at some point.

Feyre - she was literally locked away and not given a choice in mastering her skill and magic. Had no choice but to feed her family when she a freaking child. Had no choice in how her sisters treated her.

Nesta - Had no choice in turning Fae. She was forced. She had no choice but to scry because if it was between Elain and her she would always sacrifice herself. Had no choice but to participate in the blood rite. Had no choice in how her grandmother treated her. Had no choice in how she used her power.

Lucien - Had no choice but to see the love of his life beheaded in front of his eyes. Heard her heart stop beating. Had no choice in when the mate bond snapped for him either. Had no choice in the shit he had to endure because of Ianthe.

Rhys - Had no choice but to watch innocent people die under the mountain , he had no choice but to watch his mate go away with another (until she decided she didn't want it) . He had no choice but to watch his mate die under the mountain.

Mor - Had no choice but to let Eris make the deal with Rhys for her court. She had no choice in the brutality she endured from her family. Mors choice to be with her human partner was taken away from her.

Azriel - his choice to fly for 11 years was taken away from him. His choice to see his mother on a daily basis was taken away from him. His freedom for 11 years , he had no choice when his hands were burnt.

Gwyn - had no choice but to see her sister beheaded , she had no choice in who she laid with .... she explicitly says "he took that from me" that's a choice that was taken away from her . She had no choice but to participate in the blood rite.

Emerie - Had no choice but to bury her own mother and keep silent when her father lied about it. Had no choice when her wings were clipped. Had no choice when she was thrown into the blood rite.

Cassian - had no choice but to fend for himself and survive. He didn't have any choice in how his mother was treated . He had no choice in how she died.

Elain - Had her choice taken away when she turned Fae , Grayson rejecting her is a break up mate , most of the times unless its mutual breakup... they are a one sided choice .... its not like people don't break up on a daily basis.... part of life ...Her choice to kiss Azriel was taken away by Rhys ( Unless you gave me Canon text that explicitly says she wanted more than a kiss I don't accept it) . Her choice to scry ( guess who else apart from Nesta is to be blamed for that ... yes Azriel!!!)

Unless you want to count the choice of Elain to give back the necklace and TT that Elriels took away by obsessively still portraying her with them on I think the above sums up Elains choices that were taken away.

I am sure if I had more time I could write a lot more choices that were taken from other characters . Compare the notes and please feel free to enlighten me how the choice thing can even be used as an argument for the ship war? It's BS .... wouldn't it be Luciens choice taken away if he had to lose his mate ? Wouldnt it be Gwyns choice taken away if her mate is taken away ? What makes their right to choose any less important ? Is it only because Rhys interrupted Az and Elain kissing? Well I am sure that will be sorted in a 4 line monologue of Az where he realises Rhys was right to have stopped him.

Also , Az has been chosen by his family and his friends .... its not Mors problem the boy doesn't get the message. I am sure a lot of lovers chose him too ... this is Canon.. so please don't try to build some poor Az and his lack of romance nonsense... let him pull his head out of his ass that's the pressing issue not his cock... also how do you guys know Elain didn't only choose him to keep Lucien away?

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #pro gwynriel #gwyn acosf #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x azriel #azriel #post acosf #acosf theory #elucien

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the-darkestminds · 6 months ago

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Autumn’s Shadow: Chapter 1

Azriel x Eris (Azriel POV)

Summary: A covert meeting between Azriel and Eris to exchange valuable intel leaves Azriel reeling—and questioning everything he has ever felt for the Heir of Autumn. Azriel finds himself inexorably drawn to Eris, unable to resist his captivating allure. With the threat of Koschei and Beron looming ever closer, can their forbidden love endure in the face of such danger?

a/n: This is not canon compliant. It takes place sometime during acosf before Eris is taken by Briallyn. Please assume the following: Cassian never played courtier, Azriel never had any feelings for Elain, he never helped Cassian train the priestesses, and they have not told Eris about the trove.

Read on AO3!

Full Chapter List

Chapter 1:

“Shadowsinger.”

Azriel stepped out of a pocket of shadows at the sound of that infernal voice. A voice he had been longing to make scream in pain for centuries now. Since the night Azriel had found Mor in those woods he had dreamed of how he might slowly and painfully tear the Heir of Autumn apart. Though technically they were allies now. Rhys insisted on these frequent meetings to get information on Beron’s movements in Spring, along with any whisper of his dealings with Briallyn and Koschei. Which was precisely why Azriel found himself in the woods along Night’s southern border in the dead of night. He steeled himself as he took in the male faerie before him.

“Report,” Azriel said coldly to Eris Vanserra.

Eris stood casually near the base of a great oak, a smirk on his pretty face, hands in the pockets of his emerald green jacket. As if out for an innocent stroll in the moonlight. How Eris had known he’d been lurking in the shadows, Azriel didn’t let himself consider. He prided himself on his stealth. It was part of what it meant to be a shadowsinger. But this was not the first time Eris had caught him lurking about and it pissed him off to no end.

“You’re early,” Eris said, arching a red brow, clearly amused at how easy it was to rile the spymaster. “Did you miss me?” His auburn eyes glinted with feral delight as he took in the anger on Azriel’s face.

Azriel ignored the comment and stalked forward until they stood only several feet apart, his hand twitching at his side as if he itched to unsheath the blade across his back and stab it through Eris’s elegant, long neck. “I said, report. What are his plans for Spring?”

Tamlin had long since given up any semblance of protection of his lands. They now stood empty and desolate. Most of the Spring Court citizens had been forced to flee during the war, or were actively pushed out by Hybern’s armies. Azriel had spied a small force of Beron’s Autumn Court soldiers camped past their court’s southern border, on land Tamlin should have been patrolling.

Eris sighed dramatically and crossed his arms, frowning.

“You’re no fun. Beron is merely testing to see if Tamlin will respond to an encroachment on his land. So far he hasn’t.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if this were all just a minor inconvenience and not a potential act of war.

“And Briallyn?” Azriel asked.

“My father’s unexplained absences have increased in length and frequency. I suspect he is visiting the continent to meet with the queen, though I have no means of following him to confirm. Perhaps you’ll have more luck with those delightful gifts of yours.” Eris glanced at the shadows curling around Azriel’s shoulders with thinly veiled interest.

“Does Beron know what she wants from Koschei?” Azriel asked, and then added, “Is he even aware of Koschei’s existence?” They had decided to inform Eris of the Death God, but not of the trove, or of Briallyn’s use of it thus far. If that information found its way into the wrong hands they might find themselves faced with more enemies who sought to arm themselves with the trove, on top of the threat from Briallyn and Koschei.

It irked Azriel to be asking Eris about any of this. As spymaster, he should’ve been able to acquire the answers himself instead of standing here with his dick in his hand, begging Eris for intel. He scowled as Eris continued.

“My father speaks little of his plans to anyone these days. I can only assume he’s aware of Koschei if Briallyn’s allied with him, though I have no evidence to prove it. He’d be foolish not to inquire about her own personal motives.” Eris acted unconcerned, but Azriel could tell his father’s silence on the matter troubled him. He likely wasn’t used to being completely shut out of Beron’s schemes. Eris added, “You truly have no inkling of what she’s been after?” He gave Azriel a pointed look, like he was aware Azriel knew more than he was letting on.

Azriel ignored his question and contemplated the information. They did not yet know how closely Briallyn was tied to Koschei. Though he had been to the continent to spy on the once-human queen, Azriel had not yet been able to determine what Briallyn wanted from Koschei, and vice versa. As far as they knew, Briallyn had no means of freeing him from the lake. But perhaps they were missing something. Despite Azriel’s insistence that it could give them the upperhand in defeating Briallyn and prevent any further escalation with Koschei, Rhys had forbade him from getting close to Koschei’s lake, arguing that it was not worth the risk. Azriel had eventually backed off. But if Beron had indeed allied with Koschei…Azriel tucked the information away. He would study it later.

He’d heard enough, for now. “I’ll let you know when I have something.”

Azriel turned to leave when Eris drawled, “Do give Mor my regards.” He knew Eris said it only to taunt him, but the comment had him turning back around.

“Keep her name out of your filthy mouth,” he snarled.

Were they really doing this again? Eris’s moods these past few months had been unpredictable at best. He was a completely different male from one week to the next. Sometimes Eris showed up and said little, his eyes distant and cold, as if consumed by some far away storm. Other times he was almost pleasant, and seemed eager to prove his commitment to their new and tenuous alliance. Today he must’ve been in a foul mood, if his bringing up Mor was any indication, and was likely attempting to take the edge off by stoking Azriel’s temper. Eris excelled at it.

Azriel was in no mood for the male’s forked tongue today, but Eris continued, “It’s rather pathetic, don’t you think? How long you’ve been panting after her. She will never love you, shadowsinger.” His laugh was cold and mirthless. Azriel said nothing. He knew Eris spoke the truth, and it was something that weighed on him every day of his miserable existence. That he was not and would never be enough.

“Though I’m sure you know that, deep down,” Eris mused, nodding faintly to himself. Azriel growled softly, temper rising. He should leave. Now. Before he did something that could not be undone. He knew he shouldn’t allow himself to get so worked up. These were old wounds. And yet something about Eris had always made Azriel see red—had his normally cool and calm rage igniting into something hot and savage.

He’d reluctantly begun to think Eris wasn’t as bad as he let on—had even started to believe they were making decent progress in their civility towards one another. Gods, he’d even caught himself trusting the male. Perhaps he’d been a fool to think Eris was anything but a prick.

“I don’t know why you’re still so angry after all these years.” The words kept spilling out of his hateful mouth. “Surely you can’t really blame me for leaving her in those woods. Although, you are a bastard. Perhaps you’re used to having Cassian’s leftovers—” Azriel’s temper snapped. A blink and he was in front of Eris, scarred hand around his throat as he slammed him against the tree and snarled mere inches from his face.

“Say one more word about her and I will rip out your fucking throat,” Azriel snarled at him, his rage whetted into something sharp and dangerous. They were both breathing hard. Eris hissed as Azriel’s hand tightened around his neck.

“You make it so easy,” Eris sneered. “It’s almost not even fun anymore. Almost.” His smile was edged with something Azriel couldn’t place.

Azriel remained silent as he tried to tamp down his rage and get control of the roaring inside his head. He felt the column of Eris’s throat bob as he swallowed, could also feel Eris’s steady heartbeat under his thumb.

He didn’t realize he’d moved his thumb over that pulse until Eris purred, “Are you going to grope me all night? Would you like me to remove my clothes?”

Azriel’s eyes snapped to Eris’s and he could feel the blood coloring his high cheekbones. He ground his teeth at the taunt and had to stop himself from snatching his hand back in embarrassment.

Eris blinked. The only sign of his surprise. And then his lips curled into a wicked smile. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Stop talking,” Azriel growled, tightening his grip further. His face was burning. He had rapidly lost control of this meeting—suddenly he felt like he was failing some test but wasn’t sure what the objectives were, only that he had somehow given Eris the upperhand. He was fumbling—

And then Eris reached down and palmed him roughly through the leather of his pants. Azriel’s eyes widened and every thought eddied out of his head. His face burned hot as he gaped at Eris, who laughed darkly, a heated glint in his amber eyes. Azriel was frozen where he stood, his mind utterly blank. Eris squeezed him and Azriel shuddered, hardening instantly under the intimate touch.

“What,” Azriel bit out through clenched teeth, his hand still wrapped around Eris’s throat, “are you doing?”

Every muscle in Azriel’s body was taught, as if he might snap at the slightest pressure. But Eris didn’t reply. He just smiled darkly and reached for the buttons of Azriel’s pants—Azriel’s free hand stopped him before it could go further. Stopped his hand, but did not push it away. He only held Eris’s fine wrist in his scarred hand as they stared at each other. The males said nothing, their breaths mingling in the chill night air. Azriel’s grip on Eris’s throat finally loosened, and he let his hand fall to rest against Eris’s collarbone. He glared at the Autumn heir, so unruffled, while his own face was flushed red.

And then suddenly he was dragging Eris towards him by the collar of his shirt. Their lips crashed together ferociously, painfully. Tongues and teeth and shadows and flame danced together as Azriel gave himself over to the distraction of Eris’s hot mouth. He slipped his hand into those silken red strands and pulled Eris’s head back roughly, angling his face so he could better taste him. He grunted as Eris bit him hard enough to draw blood, but only gripped him tighter. Eris laughed cruelly into his mouth and Azriel could taste his own blood on their lips. Eris traced his tongue along Azriel’s bottom lip and then moaned softly as he delved his tongue back into his mouth.

Azriel groaned in pleasure as Eris slipped a hand down the front of his leathers and gripped his shaft tightly. Gods, what was he doing? This was Eris, Eris, who he hated and who hated him in return—and then Azriel stopped thinking about anything at all as Eris began working him in earnest. His long, elegant fingers gripped him around his base and then worked their way up Azriel’s considerable length, thumb swirling the beaded drop of moisture already formed at the tip. Eris moved his hand up and down deftly, almost painfully, and Azriel felt himself thrust into that hand. He would’ve been embarrassed at his own fervor if he wasn’t so overcome with mindless, writhing need. Azriel stepped closer, their bodies completely flush, as he drove his tongue into Eris’s mouth. He tasted of fall and crackling flames and something sweet, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He could feel Eris’s own need pressing hard against his stomach as he matched his tongue stroke for stroke.

Eris’s hand twisted over the head of his cock and Azriel’s knees nearly buckled. Azriel groaned into his mouth as Eris grabbed the back of his neck to draw him in closer, like he might swallow every pleasured sound that escaped Azriel’s lips. Eris squeezed the head of his cock again and Azriel felt the pleasure building along his legs and spine. He increased the pace, his hand moving up and down roughly—Azriel felt Eris thrust his own hips forward and feeling that hard length against him sent him toppling over the edge.

Azriel felt like there was fire in his veins as his release barreled through him. His hips jerked as he emptied himself into Eris’s hand. The male stroked him gently as he slowly stopped trembling. He let his head drop against Eris’s shoulder as he tried to calm his racing heart. Azriel was wrecked. He had no idea what had come over him, only that he’d come hard enough to see stars.

He felt Eris remove his hand from his leathers, their bodies still pressed together. But the absence of that touch shook Azriel from the haze of his orgasm and he straightened up quickly and stepped back. Eris gazed back at him, his normally pale cheeks flushed. They stood there staring at each other silently. Azriel was at a loss for words, still reeling from what they’d done. And then Eris smiled cruelly, arched a brow, and Azriel braced himself for the blow that was surely to come—the words that would spill out of that wicked mouth and shred the remaining scraps of his pride into nothing. Dread pooled in his stomach. But then Eris paused, cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at Azriel. Azriel held his breath, waited. And then Eris vanished, nothing but the rustling leaves any indication he had been there at all. Azriel stared at the spot long after he left, until the cold finally had him stepping back into the shadows and disappearing into the night.

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Next Chapter

Tag list: @unanswered-stars

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clemthecustestmonster · 6 months ago

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my cousin is currently reading acowar and says ryhsand is her favorite male in the acotar universe and it’s making me sad that her saying that gives me the same ick as when people like tamlin in the first book. Rhysand really had potential but he had to be a bitch to nesta, and lie to feyre (he also has done other things, this is just what comes to mind first). all the bat boys had so much potential but have been ruined. It pisses me off sm that cas gets angry at nesta for talking rudely about rhys, that az is possessive over a woman he just has wet dreams about (like he doesn’t see her as the complex person she is), and most importantly, that the entire inner circle is so emotionally immature and putting the brunt of dealing with THIER SHITTY ATTITUDES ON TWENTY YEAR OLDS WHEN THEY ARE OLD AS SHIT. I liked the inner circle so much in acowar and now i have such a hard time supporting them at all. i still like cassian but that is only because i am actively choosing to ignore (well, try to ignore) the shit he’s given his mate and i have decided to give azriel a chance because i am hoping that if his plot line with gwen plays out he will no longer give off that pervert vibe, but overall i am just sad that these characters i really loved were ruined.

all that said, this is why i am team vanserra. lucien is still great, eris has so much potential and i hope we see a redemption arc for him, and LOA seems unproblematic. i just really hope that the inner circle starts going to counseling or something in the next book so they can sort their shit out because i’m tired of only liking the fan fiction version of their characters.

#acotar #anti rhysand #anti inner circle #i didn’t even talk about how i feel about mor and amren but they low key suck too #acowar #this is why xaden will always be the best shadow daddy

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2thestars-andbeyond · 2 years ago

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The Fire That Burns Within Part 3

SMUT SMUT SMUT

My first time trying my hand at smut so be nice.

Enjoy.. kinda got carried away..

Eris was filled with rage as he winnowed back into the autumn court. He couldn't go home to the forest house this visibly angry. His father would demand to know why he is so pissed off. So Eris winnowed himself closer to the winter court border to his favorite clearing, one that he had warded from his fathers view centuries ago. He would always come here to blow off steam when he was angry at his father or just tired of his court duties. He raised his hands and a ring of fire circled around him and flames shot out from his palms. Eris sent fireballs flying through the air and towards the ground. He didn’t stop until everything in the clearing was on fire. Every blade of already dead grass every orange and red leaf that hung from the tree in the middle of the clearing, was up in flames. Eris stood, sweat dripping down his face. How dare Rhysand take what is his from him. Why didn’t Y/n want him? Y/n. Those eyes. Full lips. His mate.. With one last deep breath Eris commanded the flames to stop. And he headed to the forest house.

Eris didn’t sleep at all that night. He couldn’t stop his mind from wondering to Y/n. So he stayed up all night and tried to hide his exhaustion the next day with failure. The High Lord of the Autumn Court could read his son like a book it seemed. Eris entered the dinning room at breakfast and took his normal seat at the table. Even though his shoulders were held straight and nose slightly turned up in true Eris fashion, his father still seemed to be suspicious of the Heir.

“You came in late last night.” Says Beron.

Eris scoops apple cinnamon oatmeal into a bowl. “I am sorry Father.” Eris apologizes.

“That is the second night in a roll you have came in late. You have duties to this court and I will not allow you to embarrass me” Eris knew his Father was being serious. He knew the consequences for disappointing his father. Sometimes the punishments were.. Ruthless.

“Yes Father, I understand.” Eris said as he sat straighter in his chair.

Y/n hadn’t slept much either. Maybe because of the bond.. Or maybe because her dreams were filled with the autumn court male. Dreams that involved his hands all over her. She woke up many times during the night covered in sweat. And her nether regions covered in her slickness. The dreams were driving her crazy, so she decided to stay out of her room as much as possible to keep her mind busy and off the Autumn court male.

Azriel hadn’t left her side and Y/n had been grateful for that. She found Az’s company to be a blessing. They soon found themselves laughing and talking as they walked the streets of Velaris. Y/n enjoyed dressing up and going to Rita’s with Azriel, Mor, Cassian and Nesta. It was nice to cut loose and dance with no worries. She even shared a few dances with a handsome blonde male, but Azriel didn’t let the male stick around too long.

That night after coming home from Rita’s, Y/n went straight to bed hoping that no risque dreams would come to her. But oh boy was she wrong.

Eris’ warm lips were on her neck. His hands pawing at her breasts. Her hand rested on his upper knee. His lips found hers and a moan escaped her. Eris removed his tunic and Y/n ran her hands up his chest she started fussing with the buttons of his pants and he helped her remove them. He then flipped her backward so that she was laying on her back and spread out before him.

“So beautiful my little flame.” He purred. He bent down so that his head was between her thighs, a sigh came from her as he licked and long strip moaning at her taste. “So sweet”

“Please Eris, again.” Y/n begs and tangles her fingers into his red hair. He obliged her. “Yes just like that. So warm.” She moaned.

“I just love to hear you beg.” Eris says as he slides a slender finger into her center as he starts licking her clit again. Y/n moan his name.

“So good” Y/n says out loud as a knock on her door wakes her. Did she really just say that out loud? Fuck.. He is driving her crazy..

Y/n throws on a robe and answers the door seeing Az on the other side. Shit. she really hopes he didn't hear her.. She find herself squeezing her knees together, or smell her..

“Hello Az.” She says with a smile.

“I was just checking in on you.”

“I’m fine. What are you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Per usual.” He says

“You want to come in?” She asks and opens the door wider.

Az enters the room and takes in the room. Book cases line the wall to the left and the balcony door the left open and a smell he couldn’t put his finger on.. Something sweet almost like honey..

“I enjoyed our day out today. That cafe really was the best.” She says trying to make small talk and get her mind off that damn dream. Az sat next to her on the couch. .

“That cafe is my favorite. They have the best pastries .And Feyre mentioned you liked coffee.”

“I love coffee, as a mortal I basically lived off it, but as a Fae.. I guess I just drink it now for the taste.” She explains. They stay up and talk until Y/n can barley hold open her eyes.

“You’re not going to fall asleep on me are you?” Asks Az. Y/n mumbles a no. And Azriel puts an arm around her as she lays her head on his shoulder. He absentmindedly rubs lazy circles on her bare shoulder leaving goosebumps in his wake. When she falls asleep he ever so carefully picks her up bridal style and carries her to bed tucking her in. Az turns to leave and Y/n grabs his hand.

“Won’t you stay?” She asks sleepy.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“I won’t tell anyone. You don’t have to get under the covers. Ill get you you of your own.. “

“Where are they?” Az asks and instantly regrets how fast his response was. Y/n points to the closet. Az lays down on top of Y/n covers listening to her soft even breaths. When he was just drifting off Y/n moved in her sleep and placed an arm on his chest. Azriel, being the touch starved male he is, embraced the tiny touch. Just before sunrise, Y/n started stirring in her sleep waking Azriel. At first he thought that maybe she was having a nightmare, but as he raised up in bed to wake her, he smelled that sweet smell again.

He instantly knew that it was her arousal. And Az stiffed next to her. It had been so long since he had been near an aroused female. He found himself trying to take deep breaths to stop from getting turned on himself. The deep breaths worked until she let out a soft moan, almost too quiet for him to hear. But due to their closeness, she was practically in his ear.

Between the smell of her arousal, the moan and her hand sliding down his chest closer and closer to his hardening member the Spy Master was paralyzed. Y/n jointed awake. And realized how close her hand had been to..

“Oh Gods–” She whispered. “I’m sorry I..” she stared at the tent that had formed in between his legs. He huffed through his nose and Y/n turned her attention to his face. His hazel eyes caught hers. The dreams that she had been having were driving her insane. They seemed so real and it had been so long since she had release. All the sudden she closed the distance between them, catching his lips hungrily. She placed her hand on the back of his neck bringing him closer to her. He shouldn’t have kissed her back, but it had been so long.. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and Y/n pulled away.

“I’m sorry.. I shouldn't have–..”

“It’s okay.” He searched her eyes and as his eyes drifted lower he noticed that her tank top had been pulled down exposing her full breasts. He cock twitched. Feeling the heat of his gaze, she grabbed the blanket to cover herself but Az caught her hand to stop her.

“Don’t. You are too beautiful to hide yourself.” He placed his hand on her check allowing his thumb to rub her cheekbone. It was so wrong Y/n was a mated female. She shouldn’t want this so bad. But the dreams..

“Fuck it” She declares pulling Azriel down on top of her. He let her, wanting this as much as she did. Y/n found Azriel to be very attractive. The slim waist and his abs, the “V” line that she had seen many times at training sessions this past month. It was all enough to make her drool. Y/n moans as his tongue swipes over her lip again. This time, she gave him access. He let his hands roam her body.

Eris had just awoken to a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Searching down the mating bond he knew what the feeling was immediately. The feeling only intensified as time went on and Eris found himself palming his hardening length in his hand. Pumping ever so slowly. He tired to imagine Y/n pleasing herself. Y/n unknowingly sent a moan down the bond and it was almost enough to have Eris spill all over his hand.

Azriel inserted a finger into Y/n. She let out a moan. He licked her clit. She was so close.

“Yes Azriel.” she groaned.

Azriel inserted another finger and curled his fingers up. Hitting her in all the right places. “Fuck” she mewled back arching off the bed.

Eris reached further down the bond trying to get more of what Y/n was feeling. He wanted to see what she was going to herself, but all he could find was blackness. She must have her eyes closed. Just as she sent another moan down the bond the blackness disappeared. And Eris was greeted with the imagine of a set of large wings. This couldn’t be what Y/n was seeing. He watched as the over grown bat leaned up and placed a hungry kiss on his mates lips.

“What do you want Y/n?” he asks.

The only response received was Y/n flipping the Shadowsinger over so that she was on top of him. Eris couldn’t bring himself to get out of Y/ns head. He watched as she guided Azriel’s cock into her slick folds. A moan escaped her lips as she sat down, taking all of him. She begins to rock her hips. Az reaches up palming her breasts. She moans his name.

Eris finds himself pumping his hand more vigorously in tune to the rhythm that Y/n is bouncing . Azriel flips them over without sliding from her. He places his hand over the print on her neck, he moans. His wings flare and his shadows roam her body as he reaches the peck of ecstasy. Y/n chest turns red as she finds herself getting closer too. A string of yes’s leaving her lips. Azriel groans her name and a few curse words follow. Wings spread wide, he spills inside of her. And Eris moans as he spills over his hand.

Then he doesn’t see anything else but red. And he is winnowing away, to the night court.

Eris had been mad before but never “start a war” mad. He thought himself to be a respectful male. A male that was not quick tempered, but this was a different type of anger. This was “i will burn your court to the ground” anger. Even though he had enjoyed watching Y/n come undone, it was not his name she was moaning. Illyrians are pigs in his book. First his betrothed had been taken by one and now his mate. That’s just his luck really.

Rhysand met him just outside of the river house.

“Where is she” Eris demanded.

“What are you doing here Eris?” Rhysand asks annoyed at the Heir.

“Where is she?!” He screamed as flames flew from his palms just missing Rhys’ feet. “I will burn your precious court the the ground!”

“Leave” Rhys says.

“I will not! Not with out her. I will not allow your bastard over grown bat to defile my mate again!”

“Brother, whats the meaning of this?” Lucien shows up behind Rhys.

Eris tires to clam his breathing. He shouldn’t be this upset Y/n was free to do as she pleased. But she was his mate. And the Shadowsinger had crossed a line and he will pay. Eris lowered his mental shields and let Rhys see what he had seen through the bond.

Rhys eyes narrowed. “I told him to keep watch over her not to..”

“What with all the ruckus? Did you forget how to tell time.. Why is he here?” asks Cassian yawning, half asleep.

“I will kill you all” Eris growls temper raging. Feyre squeezes baby Nyx tighter in her arms. And Eris feels bad about his choice of words.

“There is no need to be so hostile.” Says Lucien to his brother. “I am sure this is all a misunderstanding.”

“A misunder–” Eris scoffs “You may be okay with the Shadowsinger placing his hands on what is yours!! But I’ll be damned..”

“Whats the meaning of this?” Azriel asks stopping just outside of the front door realizing who was the cause of the yelling.

“You!” Eris growls and lunges for the Spymaster.

Azriels siphons blaze blue. Y/n jumps between them. “Stop.” She yells at Eris placing a hand on his chest. He takes in her attire. Her skimpy night shirt.. She tightens the robe around her. Heart threatening to burst out of her chest. Eyes lock to her. Hazel meets amber. Eris takes a deep breath in and smells Y/n and Azriels scents mixed together.

Disgusted he snarls at Azriels, “How does it feel to know that she was thinking of me while you fucked her?”

Azriel lost it and pushed Y/n to the side and into Nesta’s arms. Az grabs Eris by the collar of his elaborate tunic a snarl on his face and a smirk on Eris’. Shadows swarm around them. Azriel drawls his fist back.

“Azriel don’t! Please.” Pleads Y/n. “This is all my fault.” Az pushed him down and Eris fell face first into the dirt.

From the ground Eris says “So desperate for female attention. All you Illaryians are the same. Pigs” He spits.

Azriel attacks him. Thighs on either side of Eris’ hips. His shadows pin Eris’ wrists to the ground. Fists flying and shadows too. Y/n screams for him to stop. Rhysand nods toward Cassian and he walks over and casually pulls Azriel off Eris. “Come now brother, that’s enough.” He says obviously amused. “Don’t want to mess up his pretty face too much” He laughs.

“How many times do I have to beat your ass to get you to understand not to fuck with me?” Azriel yells.

Y/n looks over to the Princling. Blood covers his face. “Fuck you Shadowsinger” He spits a mouth full of blood onto the ground. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have a mate.”

Azriel struggles in Cassian’s arms. Y/n feels sorry for what she caused. With a sigh she kneels in font of Eris, and waves her hand over his face instantly healing him. He cocks his head to the side and frowns at her. Lucien had been training her on her healing powers and she had gotten a lot better.

She can’t help but cup his check in her hand. “I am sorry” She whispers to him. “It’s just– the dreams– And Azriel was there..” Eris stares at her she had been having the dreams too?

“How did you know?” demands Azriel.

“She sent me visions down the bond of your.. Encounter.” Embarrassed, Y/n stands. Shit, he had seen them..

She felt a pull in her chest as she stepped away from him. Not sure what to do or say. The guilt of betraying her mate coming to much to bare. She wasn’t sure what came over her. Maybe it was the heart breaking look on Eris’ face a look that made her think that he too, felt her feelings.

“I accept.” The stated standing in front of him again. Gasps were heard all around.

“Y/n, you can’t actually mean that.” Nasta says. Did she mean it?

“We are mates, I have to mean it.” She says tears in her eyes.

“You don’t have to.. There are other ways. You could break the bond.” Azriel told her jumping from Cassian’s arms and grabbing Y/n. “Break the bond” he says.

“I–” Y/n stares into Azriels eyes, shadows swarming around her. She can’t. She doesn't want to. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry Az.. You are a good male. And you deserve a female that is solely yours.” Az takes a deep breath.

Turning towards Eris Y/n says, “I will go with you to Autumn.”

“Eris, father will not have her–” argues Lucien.

“I don’t give a damn what father will have. He will accept her or I will kill him. And Y/n and I will rule Autumn side by side” Eris says with a smirk.

Her sisters yell her name as Eris grabs her and disappears.

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #acotar x you #fanfic #rhysand #lucien vanserra #nesta acotar #cassian acotar

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szalonykasztan00 · 11 months ago

Text

People new Tamsand Au drop.

As always sorry about mistakes if you find any DM me I will edit it out.

If someone wants to write this fanfic. I will give it up for free but I ask that someone who gets Tamlin stargule with his gender write it.

There will be meme visualisations from time to time.

Thanks to the fact that Tamlin can shapeshift he is raised as a girl (High Lord already has two older sons, he doesn't need more sons but a daughter he can sell for alliances).

Tam and his mom object (obviously). That piss off HL and the other sons. One of Tam's brothers, with malicious intent, suggests marrying him to Night Court's only heir (Crule Sunless Night Court, an heir who becomes famous in the war for his brutality with his Ilyrian buddies). They agree to get an ally in the revenge war they plan with their besties in Hybern. Tamlin is lamenting his doom in the spooky woods of Autumn Court (they meet in Autumn Court as a neutral ground + Kier wants to bind Night and Autumn with Morrigan-Eris marriage (it didn't happen yet in that AU)). He and Rhys meet (he too is lamenting his doom in the spooky woods, more dramaticly of course). Tamlin is in the male form so Rhysand thinks he is just some Spring courtier, not his future wife. Tamlin (because Rhys in his dramatic performance shows his wings) thinks that Rhys is Night Court's famous Shadowsinger. They lose their shit a little bit (because they think someone catches them acting not suited for children of the high lord + Tamlin is not a girl and that might endanger HL's brilliant marriage plan) but after a hot panic minute, they start to talk and then bond over their knives, battle strategies and despotic fathers, and mothers that can't do anything to save their children etc. Now negotiations last few weeks. To keep tradition (and Tamlin's "female" virginity) they never meet eye to eye. Two idiots fell in love at their secret woods meeting. BUT Rhys is convinced that his gay ass is in love with some random low-birth courtier that he can steal with him to Nigh court and hide in Valiaris, in the meantime dumping his new wife in the CoN and forgetting about her for a few centuries.

Tamlin thinks he found an ally in scary CoN that will help him survive it and maybe, thanks to his friendship with "Shadowsinger" his new husband would be kind to him and you know don't r-word him and stuff (and maybe he even gets to be a male for few hours a day). They meet last time and Rhys is like "Let me take you to NC's secret city where we can be ourselves together" - a love confession basically, And Tamlin is "Oh shit, fuck, by the Cauldron" he didn't predict that it will go so far. He needs to marry HL's son because if not he and his mother will be tortured and possibly killed. If he accidentally made Shadowsinger fall in love with him then surely his so-to-be-husband will murder him (for almost cheating) or call off the wedding which means he and his mother get tortured and murdered. He panics and runs for his life, disappearing into the sooky woods of Autumn Court. Rhys is first like WTF then he is just heartbroken, and goes to find Azriel to cry to him about it.

One panic attack later. And realisation that he in fact loves the shadowsinger. Tamlin clams down with his mother's help and spills the tea to her. How he found someone who would love him as him and let him be HIMSELF. But he has to marry his love's friend and live his life as a female and pop out children that will be forced to live the same fate as him and if some find out the truth then they all be dead.

Then the wedding happens. Tamlin has the veil the whole time (just a quick half-lift to a quick kiss) and he barely sees anything. They married and now sitting on their wedding feast next to each other not even looking at each other. Tamlin is scared shitless because the dramatic ass bat is in such a foul mood. Rhys is just brokenhearted/hungover as shit and he continues to drink more. The wedding night comes. They go to the bedroom but are followed by Tamlin's brothers to "make sure the marriage is consumed" (ad to scary factor and so they can be a dick). Rhysand is not having it (he just lost the love of his life and has to marry that random lady that has a stick up her ass), so he puts up his Mask^Tm and growls some extremely misogynistic comment so they fuck off. They don't. Rhys's father is like "Cut it, Shadowsinger will be the witness". Tamlin's father agrees (he is reallllllllllllllllly trying to get that ally). Tamlin thinks that he is about to be sexually violated and the male that loves him is about to witness it. They go in.

Rhysand is going to the window to drink some more not even looking and his wife. He gives quick. "Get naked and on the bed, oil is on the nightstand, the veil stays on." (He thinks it would be easier if he could pretend it's his "Little spring beasty") Tamlin starts to undress, takes off the veil for a moment to get read off the partially tricky part of the dress and takes a look at the dark room. "Where is shadowsinger?", "In the shadows, mind your own business". (Azriel is not in fact in the room. He is spying on trying to fuck Eris.) Tam does as he is told. Is in the position, and the veil covers his face. Rhys is like "Get this over with" Rhys fails to get himself ready for action. Tamlin red as a beetroot, innocently asks: "Can I do something?" Rhys gets even more angry. "Shut up". They do it somehow. Thanks to Tam's shapeshifting ability it is not painful but it's awkward, extremely unpleasant and… well…. traumatising (as any unwanted sexual interaction). As soon as it's over Rhys is out of the room and either finds Azirel and/or Cassian to mop some more or straight to night court to mop in Rita's. Tam cleans themself and then cries themself to sleep. The next day they return to their courts (akward bedsheet-cecking scene mandatory). Tam gets a nice room (with a window) in CoN and tries to fit in the society and politics. There is angst time for both of them but mostly for the bats. Rhys is drinking and fucking his sadness in various bars and brothels in Valeris. (like every blond, green-eyed, guy or male prostitute). After a few weeks of that shit, Azriel is done and "Fucking hell I'm going to find that guy and convince kidnap him to come here so they either be together or kill each other."

He goes and scans Spring Court from top to bottom and just can't find the guy. Then "Maybe he looks like he is from Spring but is actually from Autumn" Scans AC from top to bottom. (Mandatory spying on trying to fuck Eris.) Still nothing. Not even a sign that he ever existed but the guy can't just vanish in thin air (ironically). He for sure was with the wedding party. So the only person who might know something is Rhys's new wife. And he is like "Fuck it. If I have to hear Rhys sad ass song any longer I'm cutting my ears off". Azriel goes to CoN.

Tam in the weeks of being left alone starts to crave some peace and security. He made some friends and allies. Mosty his new sister-in-law. She knows well her brother's disaster-dramatic gay ass. So is incredibly sympathetic to that poor "female" who was forced to marry him. She basically welcomes and integrates him into the court. Against all odds, Tam gets incredibly respected and extremely well-liked in the court. With her help, he charms his father-in-law and mother-in-law. (They have family dinners every other day and it's actually nice and not like at home). Even Kier is like "She is a nice well-rise lady that knows what to do, maybe a little unconventional but if she manages to make that idiot of an heir to behave I might even consider not assassinating the whole family of NC." Life is good. People are nice and his husband is nowhere to be found. He even is granted super wards to his room, that no one can get there without his permission (even his husband, but shadowsinger can but Tam doesn't know it). So when he is alone in his room he drops female form and is being himself.

One day he is readying himself to play his fiddle (a welcome gift from his Father-in-law) and then from the shadows reveals himself male figure of a stranger. And he is like "WTF Who are you? What are you doing here? How are get through wards?" Azriel is like: "Who am I? I am this court shadowsinger. Who are you? Where is the Lady? Wait a minute... Are you the guy from AC who seduces Rhysand?" And they have a very awkward conversation. They figure out the whole story and shit. Azriel takes Tamlin to Valeris so he and Rhys can talk it out. Rhysand is a drunk dramatic bitch and it takes a while. He sobres up. Rhysand apologies for their wedding night. They make up. Talk about their new relationship, and make rules and plans. Rhysand tries some moves but Tamlin is "Too soon".

Time skip. 300 years. They are happy. Tamlin's father and brothers (alongside Amarantha) are dead. His mother is leaving with Azriel's mother as she heals from her marriage. Rhysand and Tamlin have twin boys (sorry Tam but you and Fruit Bat need hiers). One for each court. Tamlin is an HL of SC but Rhys's father is still alive, as are his mother and sister. Tamlin and his Fruit Bat and their children live permanently in Spring but are often visiting grandmas. Life is good.

The End.

#tamsand

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shadowqueenjude · 5 months ago

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Day 4 of @gwynweekofficial Adventure

I wrote a little Targwyn! May or may not continue this depending on the response to this.

Premise: With Elain and Lucien off traversing through the continent fighting death gods and riding pegasi, Nesta had regained her original position as Emissary to the Night Court. She was probably a terrible choice given how often she pissed people off, but with Mor gone to Vallahan, she was the only remaining member of the Night Court with any experience in politics. Rhysand and Feyre had been banned once more from Summer, likely as a result of Tamlin informing Tarquin of Rhysand’s frequent unwelcome visits to Spring, Cassian and Azriel were hopeless in that department, and Amren didn’t give a shit. When Nesta reaches out to Tarquin to repair relationships damaged by her sister and her mate, Gwyn and Emerie take the opportunity to brave the world outside Night for the first time in ages.

Gwyn took a deep breath and tried not to panic.

This was her first trip outside of the Night Court since the fateful incident. The one which had turned her life upside down. The one where she had failed and lost, again and again. Which led to her running to the library to hide away.

Yet without that incident, she would’ve never wound up in Night. She would’ve never met her best friends Nesta and Emerie. She would’ve never become a Carynthian.

She would’ve never become a Valkyrie.

Deep breaths. Gwyn concentrated on her breathing. In. out. She took in the scents of her surroundings. Nesta’s lavender scents. Emerie’s mix of various spices.

You are not strong enough for this.

I take that thought and let it go. I am strong. Stronger than my demons, stronger than my past. We all are.

Gwyn placed one of her hands in Nesta’s and the other in Emerie’s, opening her eyes with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the world I missed out on.”

They were all three of them in blue dresses to honor the Summer Court. Nesta wore a shimmering silvery dress that matched the color of her eyes, with a large, billowing skirt with lacy butterflies attached to it that looked like something a queen would wear to a royal ball. A silver and diamond tiara adorned her braided hair while diamond and emerald jewelry hung around her neck, her wrists, and her fingers.

Gwyn was in a teal dress which also matched her eyes; it was a long, sleeveless dress with a highly ruffled skirt that went down to the floor; it gave her the look of a mermaid. Enormous sapphires sparkled from the necklace she had on, a gift from Amren to Nesta which Nesta had passed on to Gwyn, and her sapphire heart studs looked adorable on her, as well as her bracelet of seashells. Her fiery hair had been tied up in a chignon bun, a tanzanite tiara glittering from her head.

Emerie was in a navy blue dress that complemented her skin very well. The dress was off-shoulder and there was a slit on one side that cut to mid-thigh. Aside from that, the dress was rather plain; it was the jewelry that made it look spectacular. Incredible gold jewelry with amethyst and garnet gemstones, complete with a man tikka that somewhat resembled an invoking stone were it not for its deep red color. Amethyst was for Emerie’s favorite color, royal purple. The garnet was a nod to Emerie’s Illyrian heritage, which she had recently decided to embrace.

Together, they looked like High Ladies. Gwyn laughed when they’d all settled down in the carriage, saying, “We look like we’re headed towards our own coronations.”

Nesta snorted, Emerie smirking on her other side. “Maybe we would all be dressing like this had I accepted Eris’s proposal.”

“Well, technically you still can,” Emerie mused.

Gwyn gasped. “Em!”

“What? Like Eris wouldn’t take her, rejected proposal or not? I mean, she’s Nesta. Besides, the Autumn Court sounds so cool.”

Gwyn shook her head emphatically. “Yes, but Nesta loves Cassian. Nothing can equal that.”

Nesta chose that moment to speak. “Do I?”

Gwyn blinked. “Sweetie…we attended your mating ceremony. We were all there. You were glowing then.”

Nesta sighed. “Yes, but now…now I’m having some doubts. Perhaps this time away from him will help me get clarity.”

Gwyn and Emerie exchanged concerned glances but did not push. They’d have plenty of time to get the truth out of Nesta anyway.

Gwyn was gently shaken awake when the carriage arrived before the Summer Court palace. Gwyn stared in awe.

The palace was hewn from light brown stone upon a mountain-island floating in a bay the shape of a crescent. The floating lantern lights that lit up the surrounding city gave the whole place an ethereal glow. Guards at the entrance opened the sea-glass doors to them as they walked in. They must have been waiting for them.

Her dress suddenly felt plain before the magnificence of this castle. The man who lived here had to be very powerful, and not happy with their ruler at all. Gwyn gulped, feeling the nerves settle in. Her hands shook slightly.

“Hey.” Nesta grabbed her wrist. “We’re here. We’re with you.”

Emerie nodded grimly, gripping her other hand. “If you want to leave, I’ll escort you out while Nesta carries on the conversation.” Gwyn nodded. “I am the rock against which the surf crashes,” she whispered. Since there was an enormous ocean near them, it felt appropriate.

“Nothing can break us,” Nesta and Emerie answered fiercely.

Gwyn felt nothing but calm as they were escorted to a patio to wait for Tarquin and his most trusted advisors. Being near the sea calmed her too. She breathed in the sea salt air, stared at the powerful body of water that exuded possibilities.

“Ladies.” Gwyn looked up, her breath catching in her throat. The trio was heavenly beautiful, their dark skin in stark contrast with their brilliant turquoise eyes and silvery white hair. The one in the middle emanated power, and Gwyn instantly knew he was the High Lord. The woman to his right stared them down suspiciously.

They all three of them scrambled out of their chairs to bow. “High Lord,” Nesta said reverently, bowing deeply.

The male waved her off. “Please call me Tarquin. High Lord is far too formal.”

“High Lord!” The lady snapped, pulling him aside. She hissed something in Tarquin’s ear that typical High Fae hearing wouldn’t be able to catch, but her water nymph blood gave her a built-in sonar system that allowed her to catch what others wouldn’t be able to.

“You can’t trust these folk. Remember what happened last time?”

“These are not Rhysand’s inner circle members, Cresseida.”

“No,” Cresseida retorted. “They’re his lackeys.”

“We are not Rhysand’s lackeys,” Gwyn called loudly. Both Cresseida and Tarquin looked back at her in surprise. Nesta and Emerie turned towards her too.

“You heard that?” Tarquin asked, intrigued. Gwyn smiled. “Super hearing is one of my many talents.”

Cresseida raised a brow. “Oh? Then pray tell, what are your other talents?”

Gwyn shrugged, her smile transforming into a grin. “Allow me to introduce myself more formally. Gwyneth Berdara. Carynthian. Priestess. Valkyrie. How do you do?”

Murmuring broke out amongst the trio. “Valkyrie?” The other male asked. “Last we heard, the Valkyries were no more.”

Nesta stepped forward. “With the help of Gwyn’s research, we’ve revived it.” Gwyn turned to Nesta, beaming. “Nesta is the new leader of the Valkyries. She is also the emissary to the Night Court, but let me tell you, she’s had her fair share of spats with Rhysand.”

Nesta nodded. “Most of the time, we do not see eye to eye. We hate each other, but we have an understanding not to get in each other’s way. He is too proud to come and try to make peace here, so he has sent me in his stead.” Nesta inclined her head at Tarquin. “We met. At the High Lord’s meeting. Remember?”

Gwyn did not know what happened at this meeting, but Nesta must have made a big impact there if the Summer Court trio was now looking at them with more respect.

“Here’s the deal, then,” Cresseida said. “Kill Rhysand, and we will consider an alliance with you.”

The male on the far left gasped, and Tarquin glared at her reproachfully. Nesta steepled her fingers before her. “I’m…not sure I will be able to do that.”

“Then get out,” Cresseida snapped, and she flung her hand in Nesta’s direction.

“Don’t touch my friend!” Gwyn shrieked, stepping in front of Nesta, who had frozen. She closed her eyes, bracing for impact.

Which didn’t come. Gwyn opened her eyes, and to her amazement, a watery barrier resembling a shield had formed in front of her and Nesta. Everyone was staring at her. She blinked.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” she muttered, dropping her hand. The shield disappeared. Tarquin laughed softly, and Gwyn’s eyes snapped to his. There was appreciation there, perhaps because she had protected her friend instinctively, and dare she say some affection?

“You’re of Summer Blood,” Tarquin observed. “Interesting.”

Gwyn blinked, surprise overtaking her. “I-I didn’t know. I never knew my father.”

Tarquin took a few steps towards her. “Would you like to stay awhile and learn to control your magic?”

Gwyn’s mouth dropped open before she remembered to control herself and closed it. A High Lord offering to teach her magic? She couldn’t help it; she could feel her face turning as red as her hair.

She stammered “I- wow, you would really-I mean yes, thank you so much.”

Tarquin gave her that adorable soft smile again. “You are most welcome, Gwyneth Berdara.”

#gwyneth berdara #pro gwyneth berdara #the valkyries #nesta archeron #emerie #targwyn #gwynweek2024

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