#beron vanserra x you

[readychilledwine]

Till Death Do Us Part

SJM Villains Week - Day One - Origin Story

"Are people born wicked, or do they have wickedness cast upon them?" -Wicked the Musical

Summary - Beron had known love once in his life, and even that was ripped from him

Warnings- This fic has some heavy topics. A whole species of fae is hunted for their wings until extinction. While it is not done in great detail, if that will potentially trigger you, please consider skipping this.

Other warnings- reader Death, spousal abuse, domestic, and child abuse inferred, loss of a spouse, death of a mate, in summary, just not my normal happy love story. Edited and formated on my cellphone, long story, if you see errors, you definitely didn't ���

A/n - Happy @sjmvillainweek day one. I was sent a request about Beron losing the love of his life being his villain Origin story. I bounced between doing this as a mini series or as a one shot, but landed on the one shot due to mini series that end with reader Death not being a personal favorite of mine, plus, writing reader's death after writing 3 parts of her and Beron falling in love was rough. If you all want it, though, let me know I guess? Today is very out of my box, as you all will see with my Maeve fic queued for later, so to those of you who frequently write reader/oc deaths, I truly admire you. This was hard.

🪽Peep the Wings of Prythian headcanons Here 🪽

🗡Villains Week Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

The stake set in the middle of the grounds was the seal on the impact of Beron's actions. 100 years, 100 happy years of keeping her safe, and now he was locked in his own room, trapped as her execution was set up. 

He should have known better, should have hid her better. Her kind was already rare and in the last 100 years, she was finally the last one. One last trophy to hunt and he had led his father right to her. 

Lifeless wings hung high on his wall, still fresh with the scent of her blood.  The luster they carried was fading, the vibrant burnt orange now a muted tone of its former glory. 

Beron put his head in his hands, the faebane chains around his wrists clanging with laughter as he did. He forced his mind back to a happier time. 

Fire Festival had you running around the small market near where the Leaf Folk lived. Mother needed flour. Father needed wine. Your sisters wanted candy. The first of October was special to you all. To your whole race. It was the start of a 31 day process where the females of your race were courted, married, and the hopes of young offspring came. .

Fire Festival was for lovers. It was for passion. It would be your first year to partake, and while you knew it took some females 3 attempts to meet their match, your wings couldn't help but flutter in hope you would meet yours this year. 

As you day dreamed, supplies in a basket, you were blind to the male watching you. An outsider that had vendors closing their doors and windows with customer's inside, mamas rushing their children into their homes.

A voice cleared behind you, pulling you from your daze, “My lady.” It was instant, that snap of the mating bond tugging and tying you two together into a cursed string. ..

The dark-haired male put his hand to his heart, blindly stepping closer to you. Dark hair sat on top of his head, styled and brushed into perfection despite the evidence he had arrived on horseback. His slender face was handsome. Sharper cheekbones, full lips, a nose reminding you of a hawk beak. His clothing was high end, hugging his body as if he was poured into the material. “Beron,” he spoke to you, ripping you from your study of his figure.

“Y/n,” you whispered back, wings moving slightly to be out of sight.

“I have no interest in those,” he motioned towards them. “Only in the rumors of elder flowers in this area.”

You blinked at him, the olive branch you were about to offer him was dangerous, “I can show you if you vow to never speak of this place.”

Beron fought against his father as he was pulled to the temple. He knew the female he was being forced to marry was nice enough, beautiful, wealthy. He was forced to stand at the altar, a knife held to his little sister's back as he did. Aurelia entered either her normal grace, her own face solemn as the fae stood and she was escorted to him by her own proud father. 

Her dress reminded him of a princess from tales of old. Far too large, puffy, and in a shade of white that did not compliment her porcelain skin and hair like fire. 

They were both silent as they took their vows and the count down to your execution began. 2 hours. 2 hours he'd be forced to spend drinking and all that did was encourage more memories of you.

The pull of the bond became too much the following October, and the letters written on oak leaves could no longer be enough for either of you.

You were taking a huge risk, using the first feast and bonfires to sneak to his hunting cabin just a few miles away from the hidden edge village you'd spent your life in.

Beron was waiting on the porch, eyes coming alive as he heard the sound of your leaf-like wings crinkling as you flew over to him. ..

He caught you quickly, arms going around your waist, pulling your head to his chest. .

The first hug of many.

The first night filled with laughter and stolen kisses that'd come with the next 99 years.

He carried your one bag, frowning at your lack of possessions.

"Is this all you have, my love?”

”All I need,” Your tone was confused. “Did you expect more?”

He had. He had expected more than just the 7 dresses he pulled out. More than the one necklace he had given you. More than one more pair of leather shoes.

Beron glanced at you, chocolate eyes slightly sad, “I'm going to give you the world.”

Beron and Aurelia watched in silence as people drank and danced. “You said you were running,” he whispered under his breath to her. “You said you were leaving to prevent this.”

Aurelia looked at him, her whiskey colored eyes narrowing, “Do you think I didn't try to get him to come grab me? Do you think I sat and did nothing despite our deal?”

He rolled his own eyes, “Careful with your tone, wife,” the word felt like ash. 

“Am I your wife? Or is she locked in the fox holes waiting to be the final show for our wedding? Who else has their marriage start with the burning of their husband's who-”

The slap that came before she could finish that sentence made the room fall into silence. Another beginning. Another drastic change. Beron knew Aurelia had sold out the location he kept you in. Her father had been the one to drag you in, bleeding and crying, dress torn. 

Beron's father motioned for the night to continue like nothing had happened, as if he was beaming with pride at his son striking his wife. 

“Just because he didn't want you after you willingly handed him your cunt, doesn't mean I didn't want y/n. I hope you enjoy both of us being as miserable as you clearly are.” 

She sat wordlessly next to him, holding her cheek. She'd been warning of the heavy hands the Vanserra males carried, but Beron had never been aggressive. He'd always been kind to her. But she knew she was you and clearly Aurelia had gotten herself into dangerous territory. 

Beron watched the clock as it ticked an hour. An hour to day dreamed about you.

The wedding of the Leaf Folk were not performed in a temple, an odd thing for Beron as he stood under the oldest apple tree in the groove. Its twisted trunk and tangled branches were almost menacing as you followed his eye. 

You took his hands, whispering in the old tongue and making the tree light up with runes and stories of lovers wed under its branches. You were the last of your kind. The village somehow found and pillaged in one night. The groove of apples around you both was struggling, dying off slowly as its caretakers became a lost memory. “What do we do now?”

"We close our eyes and feel. We will know if the land blesses our union,” you smiled as you answered, closing your eyes. Fireflies began to fill the area, a slight breeze carrying the sounds of gentle music. You both opened your eyes to the deer to the fireflies.

“What the hell,” he paused. “What is this?”

"Approval from the Mother. She has blessed and signed off on our union,” Your hand went to the new rune in the tree, eyes watering as you followed the curves and slopes. “We're married.”

Beron was forced to stand, shackled again as guards made him and Aurelia walk to where he'd be forced to watch you burn. His family and Aurelia's father too spots near them, the other High fae in attendance whispering as they also took places. Public execution in Autumn was a favorite pastime for the rich high fae. They loved watching the poor, the criminals, the low fae burn or be gifts to the trees, consumed root by root. 

His father had known that wasn't an option with you. Had he given you to the trees, the trees would free you. No true crime was committed, and on top of that, your kind was so closely linked to the trees, your life forces depending on each other. 

Beron had tried to warn his father what killing you would do, how his family would lose control of the trees and the forest, how that was a magic given to his family by the Leaf Folks elders hundreds of years ago. A promise not to hunt them, yet every Nobel here had a pair of those wings on their walls. Fresh ones. 

Beron pulled against his chains as he heard you fighting and screaming in the tongue of your people. He watched as you spit on the male dragging you, watched as you spit on his father. 

You had, in many ways, made Beron's life easier. You had killed two of his brothers during your capture, making him the clear heir. You had stabbed his father with something rumors from the healers say wasn't closing, festering in his skin and muscles like an infection. The look of pride as you looked down from your nose towards his father made Beron smirk. You'd die a warrior. Die with not an ounce of fear but instead a river of rage. 

His wife. His powerful fearless wife.

That sneer didn't change as you were tied to the stake. It didn't change as your so-called charges were read. It didn't change as you waited to be given the ability to speak one last time. 

“The last of your kind, yet you won't beg for your life?”

“No,” you answered his father plainly. 

The High Lord seemed surprised as he spoke again, “So you will curse my son to a life of madness?”

“I've cursed your son and court to so much more than that already,” you glared

It was then that Beron noticed the runes carved into your body in captivity. He held his breath as he read each one. As he read the fate your death would seal for this court and for him.

You had been lied to, told he gave away your location, that he handed you away willingly in exchange for the bride sitting next to him. All lies he would never be able to change.

It looked as if you were praying, but Beron knew the signs of Leaf Folk magic now. He knew what was happening as the wind picked up and lightning struck as your pyre was lit. 

Beron shot out of bed, shaking his head as the nightmare replaying her death was fresh in his mind. He still blamed himself, still blamed Aurelia. 700 years later and he wasn't over her. 

But how could he have been? Her curse was a plague on Autumn. A deep rot that settled into the remaining signs of her village first. Then that grove he had married her in. Then the surrounding forest and villages. It was choking off life in his court. Illness, famine, and death followed in its path.

Her curse had not just taken the forest, though, it had taken him. The lifeless mating bond was doubled by what she had down. Beron lost all sense of emotion and Humanity once she was gone. He lost himself. That much was clear by the scars littering his wife and children. By what he had done to Lucien. 

He had no one to blame but himself.

He knew she was forbidden. A female considered low fae with wings like the rustling leaves of this very court, but Beron couldn't stop himself. He couldn't resist the feel of her soft skin, her scent of spun sugar and apples, her soft hair. Her eyes were his favorite thing, so light and bright. Full of life. 

As he held his chest in bed, his sleeping wife was next to him. It was those eyes that haunted him. Those last words whispered before an execution.

“A plague on your houses, a plague on your court, until a son brave enough to kill for what's right comes forth.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[dee-writes-angst]

FLOWERS SERIES MAIN MASTERLIST

Eris Vanserra x Pregnant Reader

When you show up on the doorstep of The Autumn Court pregnant and in tatters, Eris can't seem to help himself and agrees to take you in. Little does he know that your unborn babe might be a little closer in relation than he would like.

Content Warnings Include: pregnancy trope, single mother, violence, abuse, fire, Beron (those who get it, get it), Tampon- sorry I mean Tamlin, death, murder.

FINISHED!

Daffodils | a, h/c (?) | Desperately in need of a new place to call home, you accidentally end up in Eris Vanserra's care. |

Forget Me Nots | a, h/c, s, f | Eris shows you his favorite place in the gardens, and in the quiet, you reflect on how you got to where you are. |

Tulips | f, h/c (slight) | Dinner with the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court was going well- if not better- than you expected… until it wasn't. |

Snapdragons | a, h/c, d, f | Eris returns from a council meeting angry and hurt. Something has to give, will it be you or your friendship? |

Dicentras | a (!!) | Lucien shows up to the Autumn Court and secrets are soon revealed. |

Lilies | a (!!!), h/c, d (?!) | Moving on from Eris is impossible, the grief you carry around is unbearable even with the help of your new (ish) friend Lucien. |

Clematises | a, d, h/c | Eris processes new revelations while in a secluded cabin, when he finally makes his choice he ends up running into his father and learning the truth about what happened after he left. |

Rhododendrons | a, f, d, h/c | Lucien has found a healer whom he knows well enough to wake in the middle of the night. After ushering you in, you start to realize with a startling clarity that your baby is in much more danger than you had originally anticipated. |

Roses | f | Eris is settling into both life as a High Lord and a new parent while also juggling the repairs needed for your relationship. Good thing he's tenacious. |

DEDICATIONS: For those loyal readers who have been with me since the start of this series.

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesvanslutta @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd

LOVE THIS SERIES? Check out the spin-off COURTS SERIES with Lucien! Or you can look for more characters on my MASTERLIST <3

[heartless-tate]

High lady. | High Lord Eris X F reader

Summary: You used to love Eris- and now that’s all in the past. Or you at least that’s what you think. Until you receive an invitation to a dance from the high lord- Eris.

A/N: Hellooo my fireflies! I’ve been thirsting for Eris these past few weeks so why not write for him? I can’t believe I ever didn’t like this man 😫. Also for my male readers out there, if you’d like me to rewrite this or any of my other fics with a male reader, just ask! 💕

3k words

warnings: cussing, allusions to sex, use of y/n, slight angst, she/her pronouns

There were no words to describe your shock at seeing the royal invite to the ball. You weren’t high fae. You were a simple, low class librarian. Your name was written in beautiful, classy cursive. A handwriting you recognized immediately. This was handwritten by Eris. Eris Vanserra. Memories flooded your mind.

Running through the gardens, dogs barking behind you playfully. You didn’t have time to react before a body landed on you. Eris. He tackled you to the dirt, his hand was cradling your head to prevent it banging against the floor as he straddled your back. His hounds crowded the two of you, stomping and making noises with excitement.

“Got you little fox!” Eris announced, hugging you from behind.

“Not fair! You said you’d give me a head start.” You pouted. Eris’s laughter filled the air, creating a warm atmosphere. His arms wrapped around your middle and he pulled you into a hug. His embrace was warm and comforting in the cool autumn air.

Cauldron. That was so long ago. Eris was older by you than a long shot, but at that time, you were young. Nineteen years old. Young and innocent. He was also slightly more innocent then, playing with you and entertaining your young soul. Your face flushed a slight shade of pink, and you shook your head. You remember your crush on him. How could you not have one though? Everyone warned you. And you didn’t listen. He was everything a girl at that age would’ve wanted. Beautiful, handsome, smart, experienced, and a prince.

It was only when you discovered Eris was to be betrothed to some high fae daughter in his father’s court, did your little world come crashing down with reality. You were a peasant compared to him. And he likely saw you as nothing but entertainment. So you distanced yourself. You stopped accepting his invites to dinner with his family, you didn’t go out with him anymore. Of course, you couldn’t bear to completely cut him off. So you still would accept his occasional invite to walk with him in the forests with his hounds. He always told you they missed you. Now days, the walks were somewhat awkward. They happened every few months.

The last one was 6 months ago. You always thought you were doing better, you worked at a library, and cared for precious books. You lived in a relatively small apartment, but it was okay. You were grateful, you had a roof on your head and food on your plate. Things had changed since your last walk with him.

Beron was dead. On Eris’s wedding night, before the marriage had been officiated he had dueled Beron to a battle of death. Hundreds at the wedding had witnessed as Eris brutally slayed his father, and placed the crown on his head. Declaring himself as high lord. He released himself of the marriage, and granted his fiancé permission to marry her true lover. When the news escaped to the streets and you heard, you couldn’t help but be nervous. You realized, Eris would be to busy with his court to come on walks with you anymore. And that made you realize that your feelings weren’t gone. You had never gotten over him.

Tonight was a royal ball. You remembered Eris had always begged his father to let you attend the dances and balls, but Beron always refused. Saying trash like you should never be seen with royalty. Eris, stayed by your side though. He’d sneak from the dances and find you, and would dance in the silent night with you. And you had no idea why Eris was inviting you to this ball. Was it pity? Did he want you to experience something nice once in your life? What would you even wear? You certainly didn’t have royal attire.

You ripped open the letter with your nails, admiring the wax seal of a little fox on it. You opened it to a small card inside. Eris’s handwriting.

Little fox,

I’d be honored for you to attend the royal autumn ball tonight with me. A carriage will wait for you at your apartment at noon. Don’t neglect my dogs of your attention any longer.

Love, Eris.

You giggled. You felt like a school girl. You could feel the heat on your face. You admired his familiar handwriting. It was neat and lovely in every sense. A dried viola fell into your lap when you opened the card further. Memories of him teaching you cursive in the gardens made you smile. You stood, grasping the flower, and pulled out the small box you kept of every letter he had ever sent you. Whenever Beron would try to restrict him from seeing you, it didn’t stop him from convincing his maids or servants to get his letters to you. You hadn’t received a letter since his last request to walk with you. The box was filled with the dried flowers he’d always sent with them.

How could you go? What would you wear? You approached your closet. And then you remembered something.

“Eris- I can’t wear this. This is too- too, royal.” You squeaked, admiring the beautiful dress he had just gifted you.

“Wear it. It matches the suit my father made me wear. Let’s dance, little fox.” He purred, pushing hair out of your face. Once the dress was on, he pulled you close to him in the empty streets on the Autumn Court and guided you in a slow dance, uncaring of the lack of music. Or the fact he was missing a royal ball.

You didn’t waste time in finding the box tucked away safely under your bed, and pulling it out. You opened the box, staring at the gorgeous forgotten dress. You had only worn it the last night he had danced with you.

This would work. Looks like all the dances you learned from books would pay off tonight.

Music from the orchestra blasted loudly. You entered the throne room, slightly late. But nobody cared. You were fashionably late- you had to find a mask. It was a masquerade after all. And Eris’s letter was a little bit close to time so, nobody could blame you. People danced in sync all over the room, dresses of different colors swaying. It was so fascinating. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized. Sure, most of these people were stuck up cunts, but they were beautiful, and they knew it too. You walked down the the grand stair case, eyes greedily taking in everything.

And then they caught on him. He sat on the throne, auburn hair messy as if he had ran his hands through it more then once tonight. The crown on his head was slightly crooked, giving him an uncaring look as high fae of all kinds greeted him. His mask was the color of burning fire, gold lace trimming it. He seemed bored, uninterested in this whole party. And he looked every bit of the High Lord you knew he would be.

You didn’t have the guts to greet him. You couldn’t. He had invited you out of perhaps pity. There were clear boundaries you were sure of. And you knew approaching the high lord as a peasant would break every single one of those boundaries. You could already see high fae turning their noses up at you as you walked by.

You approached the giant banquet table, observing the various foods. They were all favorites of yours. Maybe you just had a fancy food taste. You grabbed a glass of fae wine off of a servant’s tray, happy to indulge yourself in high quality wine that you didn’t have to pay for. You decided to eat after you danced.

You turned to face the dance floor. You watched the first waltz come to an ends, couples departing to find new partners. You swirled your wine in your glass, smelled it and then took a taste. It was glorious. Aged, and woodsy. You figured the bottle was easily in the three hundreds. Who cared? You didn’t have to pay for it. You snickered to yourself.

“Dance with me?” A coy voice purred beside you.

You turned, seeing a gentle around your age. High fae. And he was still asking to dance. Odd. His mask was black with silver lace. He wore a simple black tux. His hair was a dark brown, slicked with gel. He had a warm smile. He was handsome. You took his outstretched hand.

“Why not?” You replied, setting your wine glass down on a servant’s tray. The male smirked with arrogance, and swooped you to the dance floor. Music begun, and he started the dance.

“I’m Silas.” He murmured, twirling you. You nodded, having no problem in keeping up with the complex strides of this particular dance.

“Y/n” You responded. His eyes glinted.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl like you.” Silas said. He started to move faster, as if seeing how well you could keep up. And you did. Having no trouble at all.

You smiled warmly. This man was nice. You could see yourself with him. But it felt like something was missing. Like a hole in your heart.

“Thank you, Silas.” You purred back, starting to lead the dance. You guided it into a more complex rhythm, going along with the music, but ultimately making it more difficult. You giggled when he tripped over his own foot but caught himself. He glared at you.

“You dance awfully good for a commoner.” He huffed out, twirling you again.

“Having trouble keeping up?” You taunted playfully, not caring of his snarky remark. He was embarrassed. You could tell by how his eyes were roaming the people that had take to watch the both of you dance, interested in seeing how long you could rule the dance floor, he was embarrassed. Your eyes roamed the people. You could feel a familiar sense of someone watching. Your eyes found Eris. He was no longer listening to the fae beside him. His amber eyes bored into you. When you caught eye contact, he smirked. His legs spread as he leaned further into his throne. His eyebrow was cocked, his long talons tapping against the throne.

Cauldron. You had forgot how breathtakingly gorgeous he was. And sexy. You felt your face flush.

A snarl distracted you from him. Silas’s hands clutched your hips.

“Do not mock me.” He growled quietly in your ear. The music’s rhythm went faster, and the dance along with it. The curious fae quickly started dancing again, embarrassed at how they were so mesmerized by a commoner.

You went to take another step, but Silas went crashing to the floor. You watched in shock as he slid on the floor, his eyes wide with fury and embarrassment. His face heated with embarrassment. He looked up at you mouth open as if he was about to blame you, but his eyes caught on something behind you. Or rather, someone.

You turned slowly to see the high lord standing in his full glory behind you. His sharp cunning eyes squinted and mouth pulled into a smirk. He observed the male on the floor before looking at the people around you both. Then his eyes landed on you. You were awestruck by him for a minute- before you realized he was royalty. You started to bow but an invisible force stopped you. Your eyes narrowed in confusion before Eris bowed in front of you.

The High Lord just bowed in front of you. You. A peasant. Before you could say anything he lifted his hand to you.

“Grant me the pleasure of a dance?” He said, loud and clear. Gods you missed his voice. Yours ears picked up multiple gasps of shock. You heard a start of a growl before seeing Eris’s eyes glare into Silas behind you. You heard Silas scrambling away, knowing his place. Eris’s eyes turned back to you. He stayed in a bowed down position, hand waiting for yours. You swallows your shock. So be it. This very much may be the last dance you and him share, and you would take it.

Eris smiled softly when he felt the familiar embrace of your hand on his. His hand wrapped around yours, completely swallowing it. You hadn’t even realized the music had stopped until now. He motioned with his free hand for it to begin again. Fae around you scampered to start dancing, but all of their eyes were on you. On him. And his eyes were on you. And that’s all that mattered.

His free hand moved to your hip, grasping it gently with respect. He slowly moved to start the dance, holding you close. You didn’t know what to say or do other than to follow his lead. You didn’t even realize your mouth was gaping open.

“Little fox, you look like a fish gasping for air.” Eris teased in your ear, and you quickly shut your mouth.

“Sorry-“

“Don’t apologize. You never have to apologize to me.” He replied, smoothly. Gods. It was as if you were 19 again and you were dancing in the empty village with him. His long nails drew circles on your hip as you slowly started ti advance in the pace of the music. He kept up with ease, and you the same.

“Your hounds miss you.” Eris murmured, leaning his head down enough to kiss your forehead. It took every ounce of self control to not accidentally trip in shock.

“My hounds? They’re not mine. They’re yours!“ You started.

“Yes, they are, little fox. You helped me save and raise Sadie’s pups. If it wasn’t for you most of them would’ve died during birth. They are every bit of yours as they are mine.” He responded, pulling you closer. You knew better then to continue this fight with him. He was stubborn. And you knew if you tried to refuse again you’d probably have a pack of hounds at your apartment door tomorrow- out of spite.

“Whatever.” You grumbled defeatedly, shaking your head. He chuckled. His laugh was deeper now. You could smell the envy of other women around you. You wondered if they knew there wasn’t anything to be jealous of.

“So..how’s being High Lord?” You asked, unsure of what to talk about now. Eris frowned with a playful pout.

“Lonely. I’m sure the hounds would agree too. But don’t worry about that. That’ll change very, very soon.”

You weren’t quite sure what Eris was getting on to now. He always spoke in riddles. You sighed. Before you could re-question him, he started talking again.

“How has my little fox been?” Eris divulged.

You blushed. He had always had a knack for that dumb nickname. You were glad people couldn’t hear your conversation. The current dance came to an end and Eris wasted no time in pulling you into another. He knew you would have no problems keeping up.

“I’ve been good.” You responded. You looked up at him. He had gotten taller. And bigger. Maybe it was the high lord magic that transferred to him after Beron died or something. You weren’t sure. But he towered over you, creating a comical size difference. He gave you a toothy playful smile. He was always so carefree around you. You loved it. You loved him.

“You look lovely in that dress.”

“You bought it.” You quipped back at him.

“I have such good taste don't I?” He countered.

You couldn’t help but giggled looking away. The music slowed and you knew this was coming to an end. And gods you didn’t want it to end. His eyes softened as if he too was thinking the same. He grasped you tighter, pulling you closer, your bodies left no space between each others. He leaned down and inhaled your scent.

“Gods. I missed you. I missed your scent. The way you laugh. Talking with you- I missed it all.” Eris started. He held you tighter when you tried to pull away, confused.

“Don’t move away. Let me enjoy this Y/n.” He whispered, head going to the crook of your neck as he slowed the dance, moving with rhythm to the orchestra’s music. You realized how desperate and clingy his hood on you seemed now. As if he had missed you as much as you missed him.

Fuck boundaries. You couldn’t care if you were a peasant compared to him right now. You let your inner thoughts win as you tightly clutched at him. You didn’t wanna let go of him. You let your head lean against his chest, relaxing into the calm and slow dance. You knew fae were gawking at you both. And neither of you cared. Eris seemed shocked at your return of his embrace. The music slowed to a stop, and so did you both in the middle of the floor. Eris gently pulled away, staring at you with such adoring eyes. A sharp contrast to who he was in front of these people. His eyes found their way to your lips. He looked back up at you, a pleading look on his face. You understood what he wanted.

His hand clutched at the back of your head as your lips met. His were soft. It was the most gentle and loving kiss. You couldn’t give a flying fuck about the jealous and envious fae. Not just women. Both males and females snickering in jealousy. Eris pulled away, eyes soft. He took in the sight of you.

He didn’t waste time in pulling you in for a second kiss. This one wasn’t gentle. It was hot. Aggressive. He kissed you as if there was a fire in his bones and you were the only thing that could sooth it. His teeth gently nipped and sucked on your bottom lip. You returned it. His hand clutched at the back of your head, talons tangled in your hair. His other one clutched at your hip and roamed to your lower back. Your hands clutched at the front of his dress shirt. When you pulled away gasping for air, Eris had the biggest smile on his face. His eyes roamed your face again. You lips were swollen and pink from him. You were panting and looking at him as if he was everything. And he returned the same look. He tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear before cupping your jaw.

“Don’t make me miss you anymore. Stay with me. I’ll give you everything you could dream of. You can be my high lady. Anything- anything you want.” He begged, eyes pleading. You knew he wasn’t lying.

“Eris..”

Eris swear his heart stopped with the way you said his name. He’s positive he would die right here on this floor at your knees if you rejected him. You were all he ever wanted.

“You’re everything I could dream of.” You whispered to him. Eris took in a gasp of air, not realizing he had been holding it. Relief flooding his body. And then pure love. He grabbed your hand before you could say anything and guided you up the stairs the the throne. He turned, facing the crowd with you. His hand placed on your lower back.

The whole crowd of fae stared in confusion and shock. No idea of what was about to happen.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Eris barked. “Show some respect to your high lady.”

His voice boomed across the room, gasps eliciting from the crowd. And then, they all bowed. You stood in front of the throne, watching as they all bowed to their knees. The scent of fear and confusion flooded from the fae.

Eris smirked before turning around back to you. He knew that despite your anxieties, you were made for this. Just your presence demanded attention from others. He knew you were his. His eyes shined with pure male pride as he removed the autumn court crown from his head, and gently placed it on yours. You watched as he bowed down on his knee, paying respect to you. His queen. You relaxed. Hundreds of high fae all bowed down to you. Your man bowed down to you. You tipped your head up with a smirk.

Eris grasped your hand and kissed your ring finger with a possessive glare at it. As if promising himself it would soon have a ring around it. He stood, and walked you to the throne. He held your hand as you sat down on it, crossing your legs. He stood beside you, eyes peering to the fae. He looked to you. Gods you were gorgeous. He couldn’t help the possessiveness in him that filled to the brim at seeing you where you finally belonged. He had waited so long to be able to do this.

“The masquerade is over. Get out.” He growled to the people, his eyes never leaving you. He didn’t bother turning around to ensure the people left. He could hear them rushing to get out.

He was gonna fuck you on your rightful throne.

[thewulf]

A Realm Reborn || Eris Vanserra

Summary: Request - I know there aren’t many Eris fics out there, especially ones that dive deeper into his unexplored character, so I was wondering if you could write one? In my head, Eris is the same stoic, narcissistic male we meet in the books. His last dispute with the Night Court leave Rhys ordering Azriel to spy on him and his affairs... Read Rest Here

A/N: Sorry for the delay! My mom came into town this weekend so spent my time with her :) I LOVED WRITING THIS. Cheeky Rhys is my favorite and a different side to Eris is always welcomed. Thank you SO much for the request @talesofadragon

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Female Reader (Mate)

Word Count: 6.2k +

TW: Pregnant Mate, coup, coup success (no direct talk of actual death)

In the dense shadows cast by the towering trees of the Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra's thoughts were troubled. Despite his position as Beron's son, he found himself increasingly ensnared by the labyrinth of court politic. A dangerous game where your involvement could mean your undoing. As his feelings for you deepened so too did his fear for your safety.

It was during a whispered conversation that was hidden away in the less frequented corridors of his father's estate that Eris's resolve hardened. "The Autumn Court is no place for you," he told you. His voice a mix of determination and despair. "Not while it's a chessboard for power and you could become a pawn my love."

Eris knew that secrecy was your best shield. For that he turned to Thesan, the High Lord of the Dawn Court. Known for his benevolence and discrete nature Thesan was a stark contrast to Beron. Eris met with Thesan under the veil of night at a secluded crossroads where the borders of their realms brushed against each other.

Eris approached Thesan with a heavy heart. His steps echoing through the quiet, ornate halls of the Dawn Court. The tranquil beauty of his surroundings did little to soothe his frayed nerves. He had spent countless nights planning his approach, and now, standing before the High Lord of the Dawn Court his usual stoic mask softened revealing the urgency and desperation he felt.

"I come seeking your aid but not for myself. For someone very dear to me," Eris began. His voice trembling slightly despite his best efforts to remain composed. Thesan, who was ever observant, noted the uncharacteristic vulnerability in Eris's eyes and inclined his head signaling for him to continue.

Eris took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. "The Autumn Court is a place of shadows and intrigue. A web of danger that ensnares even the most cautious as you know. My mate, she... she is from the Dawn Court and the light and peace here are what she needs to remain safe. Safe in her home. The Autumn Court's cruelty... it's no place for her especially now that she carries our child."

Thesan's eyes widened slightly at this revelation, but he remained silent allowing Eris to continue.

"I beg of you, Thesan," Eris nearly whispered as his voice was raw with emotion. "Grant her sanctuary here, within the safety and serenity of your court. Of her old home. I cannot bear the thought of her, or our unborn child being exposed to the darkness that pervades my father's realm. She needs a place where the shadows of the Autumn Court cannot reach. Where she can live without fear."

The plea in Eris's voice was palpable. Each word weighted with the love and desperation he felt. Thesan regarded him for a moment seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the genuine fear for his loved one's safety.

After a long pause Thesan nodded, his decision made. "The Dawn Court values peace and protection above all else. Your mate will find sanctuary here, Eris. She will be safe within our borders hidden from those who would seek to harm her."

Relief washed over Eris. His shoulders sagging slightly as the burden he had carried for so long began to lift. "Thank you," he breathed with his gratitude profound. "You have no idea what this means to me, to us."

Thesan offered a reassuring smile. "I do, Eris. Go with the knowledge that she will be well protected. And when the time comes I hope your court can find the light it so desperately needs." With a final nod Eris turned to leave, his heart lighter but his resolve stronger than ever. He would do everything in his power to ensure that you and your child would live in safety and peace as far away from the shadows of the Autumn Court as he could find.

Grateful for Thesan's understanding Eris arranged for your discreet relocation. Under the cover of darkness, you were spirited away to a hidden cottage deep within the Dawn Court's lush forests. It was a haven crafted from silence and secrecy surrounded by nature's untouched beauty where the only shadows were those cast by the leaves.

Eris visited as often as his duties allowed. Each departure from the Autumn Court a carefully orchestrated affair to avoid drawing attention. To the world he remained the calculating, distant son of Beron. But with you, he allowed his true self to surface—tender and fiercely protective.

"You must stay hidden, just a little longer," Eris would say during his visits. His hands cupping your face, eyes searching yours for any sign of weariness. "For now, this is where you are safest. One day I hope to bring you back with me. And not as a secret to be kept but as my queen to be celebrated."

In your hidden sanctuary under Thesan's subtle protection, you found a semblance of peace. The Dawn Court became your home again. A place where you could breathe away from the oppressive intrigues of the Autumn Court. Though your heart longed for the day you and Eris could be openly together you understood the necessity of the present shadows. Within them, you grew strong, waiting for the day the dawn could truly be yours.

You often linger in the quiet serenity of dawn's light patiently awaiting the gentle tap at your window that heralds his arrival. Eris, burdened with the obligations of being Beron’s son and a key figure in the Autumn Court manages to carve out stolen moments to visit you. Each time he appears there’s a softening in his eyes. A tenderness reserved just for you that no one back at his court ever gets to see. “I wish I could be here more,” he murmurs apologetically. His fingers brushing lightly against your skin. The touch contrasting starkly with his usual guarded nature. He repeats this apology with every visit, each word heavy with the longing for a simpler life one that was far removed from the intricate dances of court politics. You understand, of course. You always do. The stakes are high, and the secrecy of your relationship weighs heavily on both of your hearts.

Within the walls of the Autumn Court Eris embodies stoicism. His face is a mask of composure. His decisions and demeanor shaped by necessity and surveillance. Here, he is not just Beron's son but a pivotal player in the court's machinations. He was always under the watchful eyes of those who would see him falter. The warmth and smiles he shares with you are absent in his home instead replaced by the cold, calculating guise required of him.

Meanwhile, Rhysand senses an undercurrent of discrepancy in Eris’s pattern of behavior. Accustomed to the complexities of leadership and the personal sacrifices it demands Rhysand detects a shift that is hard to ignore. With a furrowed brow he calls upon Azriel, his master of spies. "Watch Eris closely," he instructs. His voice imbued with the gravity of his concern. "There’s a chance he’s entangled in something perilous. Or perhaps embroiled in a plot that could endanger us all."

Azriel nods, his presence already fading into the gathering shadows. Azriel was prepared to delve into the night. His task is to monitor Eris discreetly. To trace his secretive steps and to uncover any truths that might threaten the precarious balance between their realms. As Azriel disappears, a silent storm seems to brew on the horizon. The weight of potential betrayals and hidden agendas casting a long shadow over the Night Court.

Back in the secluded embrace of the Dawn Court where you await his next visit you remain blissfully unaware of the watchful eyes now turned towards your secret refuge. The moments you share with Eris are fleeting yet filled with an intensity that speaks of a profound connection, each whispered promise and shared dream a defiance of the roles and duties that seek to keep you apart.

As the Shadowsinger, Azriel had honed his skills to near perfection, blending seamlessly into the night as he monitored the borders of the Night Court. His task was to unravel the threads of a mystery that had intrigued Rhysand: the secretive movements of Eris Vanserra. Despite Azriel's expertise Eris had proven to be a challenging subject. He was lways cautious, always covered in a cloak of meticulous precision.

Night after night, Azriel's shadows whispered back fragments of routines, patterns that spoke of careful planning and discreet travels. Yet, nothing conclusive presented itself. No proof of wrongdoing or secret alliances—until that unexpected storm brewed over the Dawn Court.

Under the cover of an enveloping storm in the Dawn Court Eris Vanserra attempted to maneuver back to the Autumn Court with his usual stealth. The violent weather, however, disrupted his precise timings, extending his stay unexpectedly and playing havoc with his meticulously laid plans. This deviation caught the attention of Azriel who had been tracking the faintest traces of inconsistency in Eris’s movements for weeks.

That night as the storm raged Azriel’s shadows grew more potent, swirling with the tempest, mirroring the chaos of the natural world. They led him directly to a secluded path where Eris, cloaked against the elements and made his late departure from a hidden cottage tucked away in the lush foliage of the Dawn Court.

Azriel was drenched but determined. He confronted Eris on the storm-laden path. "Eris," Azriel called out sharply, his voice cutting through the howling wind, "the storm may shield you from others but not from the shadows."

Eris stopped, his silhouette tense. Azriel stepped forward as his presence was unmistakable. He was a shadow among shadows. "What secrets do you hide that necessitate such risks, even in such perilous weather?" Azriel demanded. This time his tone sharper, more pressing than before.

Seeing no immediate reply Azriel took a calculated step towards the cottage hinting at his intent to discover the truth himself. It was then that he saw it—fear, genuine and stark, flit across Eris’s features. A rare crack in his usually impenetrable facade.

"Wait!" Eris’s voice broke through the storm immediately halting Azriel's advance. The urgency and fear in his tone were palpable. "There is someone... someone very important to me inside. It’s not just my safety at stake. I implore you, for their safety, let us not draw any unwanted attention here."

Azriel paused as he evaluated Eris's plea, the sincerity in his voice resonating even amidst the tumult of the storm. "Who are you protecting, Eris?" Azriel asked. His stance unyielding yet not advancing further.

With the storm as their only witness, Eris's resolve crumbled. "I am to be a father," he confessed. The words heavy with a mix of fear and protective fervor. "The mother of my child, my mate, she is there in the cottage. The Autumn Court is no place for her Not with the dangers and the dark games afoot."

Azriel's expression softened ever so slightly understanding the depth of Eris’s concern. "This is a matter for Rhysand. Secrets involving cross-court movements can endanger more than just your family," he insisted though his voice carried a note of empathy.

In the aftermath of the storm that had inadvertently revealed his secret, Eris found himself following Azriel through the winding, rain-slicked paths that led back to the Night Court. The journey was tense, filled with the unsaid words and unasked questions that hung heavily between them. Azriel led the way, his figure a dark blur against the storm-dampened landscape.

Upon their arrival Rhysand awaited them in his study. The room bathed in the soft glow of floating orbs that cast long shadows across his face. The High Lord of the Night Court regarded Eris with a mix of curiosity and sternness. His expression a masterful blend of intrigue and authority.

"Eris," Rhysand began. His voice smooth and deceptively light, "Azriel has been quite entertained tracking your nocturnal adventures. It’s not every day we catch a son of Autumn dancing with the dawn. So, tell me, what drives you to seek refuge in the light while your own court dwells in shadow?"

Eris with his usual composure battling with the raw urgency of his situation took a deep breath before speaking. "It's a matter of the heart and of life," he confessed. The gravity of his words reflecting the seriousness of his plight. "I have my mate in the Dawn Court. She is with child. The Autumn Court is a place of machinations and malice. No place to raise a family or to cherish life."

Rhysand leaned back in his chair. A slow smile spreading across his face, his eyes twinkling with the thrill of unfolding secrets. "A clandestine love and an unborn child," he mused. His tone both amused and considerate. "You do know how to weave a compelling tale, Eris. But such secrets could tip the scales of power. They need... managing."

Standing up, Rhysand circled his desk, coming to lean against it as he faced Eris squarely. "Here’s my offer—a bargain if you will. I ensure your family's safety. We will shield them from the shadows of your father’s reach. In return, you pledge your loyalty to me. Provide me with insight into Autumn, help me understand its inner workings. Together, we might just find a way to bring a little more light into your court."

Eris's eyes narrowed slightly as he considered the proposal. "You're asking me to betray my court Rhysand."

Rhysand's grin widened with playful glint in his eyes. He was enjoying this far too much. "Not betrayal, Eris. Think of it as... strategic realignment. Besides, isn't it high time Autumn had a leader who values life and love over power and fear?"

Eris let out a short, humorless laugh. "You make it sound so noble, Rhysand. But we both know it's about leverage. You want eyes and ears in Autumn, and I need my family safe."

Rhysand shrugged, unfazed. "Call it what you like. Leverage, nobility, practicality. The fact remains that we both get what we need. And honestly Eris, who else are you going to trust with this? Beron? One of your brothers?"

Eris's gaze hardened. "Watch your tongue, Rhysand. My family may be fractured but they are still my blood."

Rhysand raised his hands in mock surrender. His smile never faltering. "Peace, Eris. I'm merely stating the obvious. Your loyalty to them is admirable but it's misplaced if it endangers your mate and child."

Eris felt the weight of his decision pressing down on him. The safety of his mate and future child was paramount and he knew this was the only way to secure it. With a heavy heart, he made his choice, knowing his true loyalty now lay with you and the life growing within you.

“You have a deal then Rhysand,” Eris agreed. His voice resolute yet tinged with regret. “I accept your bargain.”

Rhysand extended his hand with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Welcome to the family, Eris. Let’s hope this is the start of a fruitful partnership.”

Eris scoffed at the word "family," the irony not lost on him. "Family," he repeated, his tone filled with bitterness. This only drew a wider smile from Rhysand, who seemed to relish the complexity of the situation. Eris shook Rhysand’s hand firmly making sure to seal the pact with a mixture of determination and resignation. “Indeed. For both our sakes.”

Rhysand’s grin widened very pleased with the agreement. "Excellent," he replied, his tone rich with satisfaction. "I do enjoy a good bargain. Especially when it’s sealed under such... dramatic circumstances."

As Eris left the study the weight of the bargain settled around him. He was entwined now in the intricate dance of court politics in ways he had never anticipated. Yet, there was a flicker of hope. A chance that through this bargain his mate and child might live free from fear.

In the serene twilight of the Dawn Court the air was filled with the gentle scent of blooming night flowers casting a tranquil spell over the hidden cottage that had become your sanctuary. Eris had arrived under the cover of dusk, his presence a comforting shadow in the doorway. His eyes looked for yours with a mixture of longing and solemnity.

As he stepped inside the softness in his gaze was solely for you. The harshness of his other life momentarily stripped away. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. His touch speaking of missed moments and cherished returns.

“You’re looking more beautiful every day,” Eris murmured with his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. His hand gently caressed your swollen belly. The life within a testament to your shared love hidden away from the world’s prying eyes. “Not long now,” he whispered. A trace of both excitement and anxiety threading his voice.

Eris knelt before you. His fingers tracing the curve of your belly with reverence. “Just hold on for a little longer, my love,” he said softly addressing both you and the unborn child. “The time is near, and soon, we won’t have to hide. Soon, I’ll bring you both into the light where you belong.”

He pressed his lips gently to your stomach. A silent promise passing from his lips to the child who stirred at his touch. “Your father is working on making the world a safer place for you,” he whispered as if he believed the baby could hear and understand. “A place where shadows turn into protection, not peril. Just a little longer.”

As the night deepened around you, Eris shared whispers of a plan—a strategic move that would change everything. “Rhysand and I, we’ve set things in motion,” he confided in you with his voice a low rumble filled with a blend of hope and determination. “It’s a risk, a great one, but it’s for us—for our family. For a future where our child can grow up without fear.”

In the quiet comfort of the cottage, as Eris shared the weight of his plans, you listened with a heart full of mixed emotions. Hope mingled with worry. When he finished speaking you pulled him closer, your hands framing his face gently guiding him to look directly into your eyes.

With the softest of touches, you pressed your lips to his. A kiss filled with all the love and reassurance you could muster. "Be careful, Eris," you whispered against his lips, the urgency of your plea softened by the affection in your voice. "Remember, you're not just fighting for the two of anymore. We need you, both your baby and me. We need you to come back to us."

Eris's eyes that were usually so fierce and determined softened under the sincerity of your words. He nodded as a vow passing between you two. "I will be careful," he promised, the steadiness in his voice aiming to soothe your fears. "I'll return to you, to both of you. That's a promise I intend to keep."

He held you a little longer. The silence around you blooming like the night flowers in the garden. It was a precious, fragile moment. One filled with the promise of futures both bright and uncertain.

With one last look, a lingering gaze that seemed to capture every facet of his love and commitment, Eris stepped back into the shadows of the night. Leaving behind the safety of the cottage for the dangers that awaited. You watched him disappear holding tightly to the promise sealed with a kiss. The belief in his return keeping your fears at bay as the dawn approached.

Eris's farewell to you was tender. It was filled with promises and reassurances whispered against the backdrop of a serene Dawn Court dawn. Yet, the moment he stepped out of the cottage and into the cool morning air, the weight of what was to come settled over him like armor. He glanced back once, locking away the image of you standing in the doorway. A silhouette of strength and grace against the soft morning light. With that final, poignant image etched in his heart he turned and disappeared into the forest where he was whisked away to the Night Court.

It was abrupt, he serene ambiance of the Dawn Court giving way to the charged atmosphere of the House of Wind. Under the shadow of the mountain and the watchful eyes of the stars, Rhysand and his Inner Circle were already assembled. The war room was alive with low conversations and the rustle of maps. Each member of the Inner Circle reviewing their roles one last time.

As Eris entered the room fell into a hushed anticipation. Rhysand looked up, his expression a mix of concern and resolve. "It's time," he simply stated acknowledging Eris's arrival as the final piece of their carefully laid plan clicking into place.

Eris nodded, the transition from loving partner to a leader poised to reclaim his court complete. He approached the table. His gaze sweeping over the maps and documents that laid out the coup in meticulous detail. His input had been critical in shaping the strategy, and now, as the dawn light began to spill over the horizon he prepared to lead the charge that would end Beron's reign.

"Let's go over this one last time," Eris said. His voice steady and commanding, drawing the group’s focus. The Inner Circle leaned in ready to absorb every last detail. In this room with these allies, Eris transformed from a partner worried for his family's safety into a general about to lead a battle for freedom and justice.

The plan was clear, each member’s role defined with precision. As they finalized their preparations the weight of responsibility was palpable but so was the sense of imminent change. They were not just planning a coup. They were setting the stage for a new era in the Autumn Court. An era that would begin as soon as Eris and his team stepped back through the portal, ready to act.

The coup unfolded with the silent ferocity of a shadow moving across a dimly lit room. Under the cloak of night, Eris, accompanied by a cadre of Night Court elites, maneuvered through the twisting corridors of the Autumn Court. Their steps were soundless. Their presence as spectral as the whispers of conspiracies that had long filled these halls. Azriel had masterfully neutralized the guards leaving Beron's defenses stripped away exposing him to the fate that awaited.

Beron, the once formidable High Lord of Autumn, was found alone in his private chambers. His usual contingent of protectors conspicuously absent thanks to Azriel. As Eris entered, the air tightened, charged with the imminent finality of what was to come. Beron turned, his face contorting with a complex mix of emotions—betrayal, fear, and a grudging acceptance of his grim fate.

"Eris," Beron began. His voice faltering under the weight of his son's cold gaze. "Is this how you claim your legacy? With treachery?"

Eris stood unwavering, his figure casting a long shadow that merged with the darkness of the room. "This isn't treachery, Father. This is justice," he replied. His voice resonating with a steely calm that belied the storm of emotions within. "For years your reign has sown fear and pain. Under your rule trust was a weakness and love a liability."

He stepped closer his eyes never leaving Beron's. "I learned from you all the ways a leader should not govern. You ruled with cruelty, believing it strength. You fostered suspicion and betrayal among your own people."

Beron's eyes that were once so commanding now flickered with the realization of his imminent demise. He tried to muster his usual authoritative tone, but it cracked, revealing his underlying despair. "You are my blood. Would you truly strike down your own father?"

Eris's expression hardened, any filial affection extinguished by years of cold indifference and calculated manipulation. "I am your son, but I am not you. I will not be a tyrant. I will be the leader that the Autumn Court deserves. One who rules with integrity, not through fear. I will undo the damage you've inflicted upon our realm."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Eris drew closer. His presence overwhelming the room. "You won't be remembered as a mighty ruler, only as a cautionary tale of the ruin that comes from such tyranny."

With that, Eris ended Beron's reign. Not with grandiose declarations or a spectacle, but in the quiet of the night. A swift and decisive action that mirrored his commitment to change. Beron slumped, a final sigh escaping him, a mixture of relief and resignation, as the terror of his own legacy finally caught up with him.

As Eris stood over his fallen father, the weight of his actions settled upon him. This was the first step toward a better future. A reign defined by compassion and fairness, the antithesis of everything Beron had stood for. In that profound and painful moment Eris vowed to reshape the Autumn Court into a place where fear no longer held sway.

It was declared the next morning that Beron had passed in his sleep. A peaceful end to a tumultuous reign that accepted without question by his brothers and even his mother who all were too aware of the need for change. The guards, their loyalty ensured through discreet negotiations by Cassian, upheld the narrative ensuring a seamless transition of power. It was either that or death.

Eris took the reins of leadership with a careful, watchful grace. The initial weeks were fraught with subtle maneuvers and delicate alliances. He addressed the Autumn Court not with grand declarations but with a quiet assertion of a new philosophy. One where fear and oppression had no place.

During this time Eris chose to keep you hidden a while longer in the Dawn Court ensuring that any remnants of his father's loyalists were fully pacified. That the court's stability was unquestionable. With the realm calm and the whispers of dissent fading into hopeful dialogues Eris finally felt the time was right to bring you home.

You were near the end of your pregnancy when Eris returned to you. His joy at seeing you so close to bringing their child into the world was mingled with a profound relief that he could now share his life openly with you. “The court is ready for you, my love,” Eris whispered as he knelt before you his hand gently caressing your belly. “And they will adore you as I do.”

With careful planning your arrival at the Autumn Court was orchestrated not as a mere introduction but as a celebration of the new life both in your womb and in the realm. When you finally appeared by Eris's side with his arm protectively around you, the court met you not with whispers of curiosity but with open arms and quiet respect.

Your presence at Eris’s side in the subsequent weeks, visibly pregnant and radiant, served as a powerful symbol of the new era in the Autumn Court. A time of transparency, renewal, and familial love. As you walked through the halls of the palace, those who met your gaze saw not just their future queen but as the hope for a new peace that Eris had promised.

With Eris's careful introduction of you to the court your grace and warmth quickly dispelled any lingering doubts. The both of you navigated this new chapter. Your partnership a public testament to the union of love and leadership that promised to guide the Autumn Court into a prosperous and open-hearted future.

The early morning light filtered through the windows of the Autumn Court casting warm hues over the hall where a significant gathering was about to take place. The air buzzed with anticipation. Not just for the political ceremony but for the new life that had already sparked joy and hope throughout the court.

Only weeks earlier, in the quiet sanctity of the royal chambers, you had given birth to a baby boy. The event was celebrated quietly but joyously within the palace and news of the heir's arrival had already endeared the court to their new High Lord and his family even more.

The great hall of the Autumn Court buzzed with an electric anticipation. Its ancient stones echoing the soft murmurs of courtiers and the rustle of fine silks. High Lords from neighboring courts lined the room. Their expressions a mixture of curiosity and cautious respect, with Rhysand among them, his observant eyes missing nothing.

You stood beside Eris, the warmth of his presence a steady comfort as you held your son. The baby, swaddled snugly, peeked out with wide eyes. His tiny fingers clutching at the air. Eris, resplendent in the deep hues of autumn—gold and russet embroidered onto his ceremonial robes—looked every inch the leader reborn. He exuded a calm authority. His gestures tender yet assured as he adjusted the blanket around your son, his touch gentle yet firm.

As the moment for the ceremony approached the murmurs hushed to a reverent silence. The eldest of the courtiers, a venerable fae with silver hair flowing down his back, stepped forward. He carried the mantle of the High Lord. An ornate piece embroidered with the rich history of their people.

“Today, we witness the dawn of a new era," the elder announced. His voice resonating through the hall. "Here stands Eris Vanserra who has proven his mettle not just as a warrior but as a leader who values justice and the welfare of his people above all."

Turning to Eris he draped the mantle over his shoulders. "By the power of all and the traditions of our court and the approval of the High Lords here present, I declare you, Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court. May your reign bring peace and prosperity to our lands."

Rhysand’s gaze was steady on Eris with a small, knowing smile playing at his lips, signaling silent approval. As the mantle settled on Eris's shoulders the court erupted into applause. The sound thunderous in the enclosed space, relieved. The courtiers’ faces were alight with hope and respect. Their applause not just a formality but a heartfelt endorsement of their new leader.

Eris took a moment to let the weight of the mantle and the responsibility it symbolized sink in. Then, he turned to you and your son. His expression softening. He leaned in close, his words for you alone amidst the clamor, "We begin anew, for us and our son."

As the applause continued Eris addressed the assembly. His voice carrying the strength of his convictions. "I stand before you today, not as a ruler in isolation, but as one who seeks to lead through unity and understanding. Together we will rebuild what was lost and forge new paths toward a future filled with hope."

The promise of his words with the vision he shared, resonated deeply, not just within the walls of the great hall but through the heart of every fae present. As you looked up at him, your son cradled between you, the significance of this moment was not just in the crowning of a new High Lord but in the celebration of a family that would guide this transformation. Beneath the watchful eyes of allies and adversaries alike you stood ready to embark on this new journey. A journey that promised to reshape the world around you.

As Rhysand approached with a dignified yet warm presence, the hall's chatter faded, creating a private sphere around you, Eris, and the Night Court High Lord. Rhysand's eyes softened as he gazed at the child in your arms and his smile conveyed genuine respect and joy.

"Congratulations are certainly in order," he began. His voice gentle, addressing you directly with a warmth that felt personal and sincere. "Not only for the birth of your son but for being the cornerstone upon which a new Autumn has been reborn. Truly, a new era indeed."

You felt a flush of pride at his words recognizing the depth of the role you had played in the transformations not just within your family but across the court. "Thank you, Rhysand," you responded. Your voice steady and filled with gratitude. "It's been a journey of many challenges, but seeing the court unite and thrive under Eris's leadership. It’s a reward in itself. Our son will grow up in a realm that values peace and unity all thanks to the support from friends like you."

Rhysand nodded appreciatively at your acknowledgment before turning his attention to Eris. "Today, we celebrate not only the stability and peace that Lord Eris has brought to the Autumn Court," he continued. His voice echoing subtly through the now quieter hall. "We also mark the formal conclusion of our agreement. A pact sealed to protect and to rebuild. Seeing the prosperity it has brought here, I declare our mission accomplished."

Eris, standing tall and proud beside you, responded with a nod. His voice resonating with confidence and a touch of emotion. "The support of the Night Court was invaluable during these times of change. With our goals achieve we now stand together not just as allies but as friends in work. As High Lord of Autumn, I am committed to leading with transparency and integrity. The very same principles that this alliance has been built upon."

Eris then turned back to you. His expression gentler as he included you and your son in his gaze. "And none of this could have been possible without the strength and support of my family," he affirmed, his voice tender. "My mate and our son are the heart of all we strive for. The future we envision."

Rhysand's smile broadened. His eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and camaraderie. "The Autumn Court is indeed fortunate. To rise from shadows into such a promising dawn guided by such devoted hands," he commented. "Your son will grow up in a realm reborn. One that cherishes life and love. A true testament to both of you."

With a final nod of respect Rhysand allowed other courtiers to approach and offer their congratulations leaving you with the affirming knowledge of your family's central role in shaping a hopeful future for the Autumn Court.

The day moved into celebration. The halls of the Autumn Court ringing with music and laughter, a stark contrast to the days of Beron’s rule. As you mingled among your people Eris was always nearby. It was clear that the court was not just accepting but truly embracing this new chapter.

Your family stood later at the balcony overlooking the vibrant gardens. Your son nestled against you. Eris’s arm wrapped protectively around both of you. Below, the people of the Autumn Court looked up, their faces smiling, their cheers a promise of loyalty and hope. This was the future Eris had fought for. A legacy of love and peace for his son and it was just beginning.

As the celebrations dwindled into the soft hues of the evening, the Autumn Court, now steeped in the gentle sounds of peace and prosperity, seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The corridors and gardens that were once the backdrop of clandestine plots and whispered fears now echoed with laughter and hopeful conversations.

Inside the royal quarters, Eris, you, and your son found solitude away from the remaining festivities. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun filtering through large windows and casting golden patterns on the floor. Eris stood by the window while holding your son gently in his arms, watching as his little eyes fluttered closed, succumbing to sleep after a day filled with new sensations.

Turning from the window Eris walked back to where you sat, a soft smile playing on his lips. He handed your son to you, and you cradled him close feeling the gentle rise and fall of his tiny chest. Eris sat beside you, his arm encircling your shoulders, drawing you both into his embrace.

"Today, I felt everything align my love," Eris whispered, his voice a tender rumble in the quiet room. "Seeing our people, hearing their hopes, and holding our son—I have never been more certain of our path."

You nodded, leaning into his side, your head resting against his shoulder. "It feels like we've finally stepped out of the shadows," you murmured back feeling the truth of your words resonate deep within.

Eris kissed the top of your head. His gaze lingering on the peaceful face of your son. "We did more than step out," he corrected softly, pride mingling with joy in his tone. "We dispelled them, together."

As twilight deepened, the three of you sat in silence. A family united not just by blood but by the shared trials that had tempered your spirits and bound your hearts. Outside, the last light of the day gave way to the first stars of night, a symbol of the enduring light you had brought to the Autumn Court.

Eris's earlier turmoil with the weight of leadership and legacy, seemed to dissolve instead replaced by a profound contentment. In this quiet room with his family, his court secure and thriving, he felt a happiness that was deep and genuine. A happiness that whispered of enduring peace and future filled with promise.

This moment, simple yet profound, was the true beginning for Eris, you, and your son. A beginning marked not by declarations and formalities but by quiet love and shared dreams under the watchful stars of the Autumn Court.

ACOTAR Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @lilah-asteria @fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows Part 4

Eris x AzrielSister!Reader

Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but after a bargain is made between them, things begin heating up. This takes place before Under the Mountain.

It's been a while, so quick summary. In part 2, he found her spying but let her go, under the bargain that she owed him a favor. In part 3, he sent a letter inviting her to a ball in Autumn as that favor. Her brothers forbade it, and out of spite, she decided to go.

Series Masterlist

Part 3 || Part 5

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Year 3

You looked gorgeous, if you did say so yourself. You had stolen a dress from Mor's closet, enchanting it to fit your wings. Your brothers would've lost their minds if they say you in it.

You knew it was too scandalous for the Autumn Court, but you also knew that Eris had only invited you to irritate you. So you would irritate him right back.

You stared down at the leaf shaped tattoo on your wrist as your shadows whispered to you, warning you not to go. To you, if it pissed your brothers off, it would be worth it.

You quietly climbed out of your window, jumping off of the windowsill and letting your wings catch the wind. You didn't want to ruin your hair, so you just got far enough from the House of Wind to winnow.

You landed in front of the Forest House where you found yourself surrounded by Autumn Court High Fae. Some of them shot you looks, likely due to your lesser Fae heritage, and your shadows. But you ignored them, glancing around until your eyes caught Eris's.

His smirk made you want to claw at his face. But you let him make his way towards you, though you glared at him with every step he took.

You couldn't deny how handsome he looked. His hair was combed neatly, his suit was black with an emerald coat and tie.

"Shall we?" was all he said, holding an arm out to you. You scowled, but took it. "I'm surprised you agreed."

"I only agreed to annoy my brothers," you said, hoping to humble him.

"And how does your cousin feel?"

You yanked your arm away from him at the words, a truly hateful glare twisting your face and pointing in his direction.

"You don't deserve to even speak of her," you said to him.

He didn't reply. He just gripped your arm again, tugging you into the ballroom.

The ballroom was gorgeous, tiles of gold and walls of marble. Fae all around wore fancy suits and gowns. A few of them had to dodge your wings, shooting you dirty looks as they did so. You just glared back at them.

Eris didn't speak a word to you as his hand slipped around your waist, his other joining with your scarred hand. You begrudgingly began to dance, only because you could imagine the looks on your brothers faces if they were to see you.

“Why did you invite me here?” you demanded.

“You really pissed me off in that forest,” he said to you. “It seemed only fair the favor you owed me be something that pissed you off, as well.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you danced with him.

You noticed a couple beside you whispering to each other as they eyed you. It hit you then why he had invited you.

He was trying to embarrass you. He knew everyone would stare and judge you for being Lesser Fae. For your darker skin. For your shadows. For your Night Court fashion.

“I wouldn’t think your father would be too happy about you inviting me to this,” you said, your shadows sticking close to you.

“My father doesn’t care who I fuck,” he replied. “Just who I marry.” Your eyes went wide, and you shook your head.

“Sex is not part of the arrangement,” you reminded him.

“Of course not,” he assured. “But people will assume. And talk. And if my father gets word, he won't care.”

“He sure seemed to care who your mother was fucking,” you shot back.

You didn’t know if the rumors were true, but everyone spoke of his mother and Helion. And everyone talked of how Beron found out.

“What did I tell you about saying a word against my mother?” he snarled, his entire demeanor changing as his grip on your waist tightened.

“You invited me here to humiliate me,” you replied smoothly. “I will say what I please.”

“I don’t know what gives you that idea,” he denied. “Besides, you and your brother are bastard born, so they say. I can only assume the worst of your own mother.”

“You know nothing of my mother or the conditions under which I was born,” you replied, face heating.

You thought of your mother, the female that you had only been able to see once a week for the first six years of your life. You hadn't spoken a word to her in those years, your trauma rendering you speechless until you were eleven.

But she had loved you. She would hold you during that hour, letting you nuzzle your face in her neck as she stroked your hair and sang to you.

Now, she lived in a house Azriel had bought for her. You went to visit her at least once a month. She was everything to you. She and Az were all you had for so long.

Hearing Eris insult her struck something deep in you. Your sweet mother had been insulted enough, having two children out of wedlock. She'd been shunned, shamed, and tormented. She didn't deserve any of it.

Eris was studying you as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You glanced back at him, eyes narrowing.

"Neither of us will speak of the other's mothers," you said simply.

"Fine," he agreed.

The dance was one you'd never learned. But he was leading, and you were picking it up quickly. He spun you around, then dipped you.

As you glanced up at him, you noticed how beautiful his amber eyes truly were. You stared into them, your brows furrowing. Something was tying you to him . . . something palpable.

You gasped as something snapped into place, a string going taut between you two.

"Mate mate mate," your shadows whispered.

His eyes went wide, wild, as you tore yourself from his grip.

"Wait--" he insisted.

But your shadows had winnowed you away before he could say another word.

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Scorched Shadows Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria

Eris Taglist:

Comment to be added to the Scorched Shadows or Eris taglists!

»»————-　♔　————-««

[a-court-of-mischief-and-madness]

Midnight revelations

Part 1 ----------- Part 2

Eris Vanserra x rhysand sister reader!

Summary: rhysand's sister has always felt lonely considering all the demons and skeletons from her past make her heart ice cold. What happens when she meets someone who has enough fire to warm her heart and unravel her?

Note: hi everyone this is my first time ever posting a story, I have always been addicted to writing but I have never publicly showcased my work. Therefore I urge you all to enjoy this. Feel free to leave a comment about what you think :)

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You clutched the fabric of your dress, a breathtaking gown that shimmered with every subtle movement. The deep, royal blue material cascaded down to the floor in luxurious folds, catching the light and creating a mesmerizing array of sparkling reflections that mimicked the starry night sky. The bodice was meticulously crafted, hugging your curves with an almost ethereal grace. Tiny, delicate crystals were sewn into the fabric, forming intricate patterns that danced along the neckline and down the fitted sleeves. These sleeves, adorned with intricate floral patterns, exposed just a hint of skin, creating an alluring contrast against the otherwise modest design.

The slit of the dress was daring, extending provocatively up to your upper thigh. With each step, it revealed a tantalizing glimpse of your leg, adding an element of sensuality to the otherwise elegant ensemble. The cool night air whispered against your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the chill, you felt a surge of confidence wearing the dress, its beauty giving you a sense of empowerment.

The Night Court had always been your sanctuary, a haven with your brother Rhysand and his mate, Feyre, after the harrowing events under the mountain. You silently cursed Amarantha for ever laying her hands on him, for the ball of trauma she had inflicted, now masked by his composed exterior. Tonight was a reunion for all the High Lords and their families, celebrating Amarantha's defeat. The meeting was to take place in the Court of Nightmares, a place you dreaded—not only because of Keir, but also because of the lecherous behavior prevalent there. Everyone had to mentally prepare to ensure nothing went wrong. You hated that daily routine of donning a cold mask, a habit that began over a hundred years ago...

"Kill the woman first," Tamlin's father barked, his voice cold and merciless.

"No, please, no. I'm begging you, please don't," you pleaded, your throat raw from weeping. Blood coated your arms and legs, seeping from the wounds on your back where the High Lord of the Spring Court had tried to clip your wings. The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the terror you felt for your mother. Your wings had vanished when he tried, baffling him and fueling his rage. In his anger, he slapped you, the sting of it radiating from your cheek.

"It's okay, please do it to me but let her go," your mother sobbed, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. You tried to protest, but your mouth was clamped shut by some unseen force, preventing you from speaking or moving. You were helpless, forced to watch as the nightmare unfolded before you.

The High Lord of the Spring Court approached your mother with a knife, its blade glinting ominously in the dim light. Your mother looked at you with tear-filled eyes, her face etched with sorrow and resignation. "I love you," she mouthed, her lips trembling.

You screamed against the spell that held you, your heart shattering with every step he took. The knife glinted in the light, each reflection a dagger to your soul. He reached your mother, and without hesitation, he slashed her neck. Blood spurted from the wound, staining the ground crimson. Your mother crumpled to the floor, her eyes wide with shock and pain.

A guttural scream tore from your throat, louder and more primal than any sound you had ever made. It broke the spell that bound you, and Tamlin and his father staggered back, their faces painted with agony and shock. You rushed to your mother's side, falling to your knees beside her lifeless body.

"Mother, no," you sobbed, cradling her head in your hands. Blood seeped between your fingers, warm and sticky. Her eyes, once so full of life and love, were now empty and glassy. You rocked back and forth, your cries echoing through the cold, heartless chamber. The world around you seemed to blur and fade, your vision clouded by tears.

Suddenly, a familiar presence enveloped you, a comforting darkness that wrapped around your soul. Your brother Rhysand appeared, his power crackling in the air, but it was too late. The light in your mother’s eyes had already faded, her body growing cold in your arms. Rhysand's eyes widened with horror as he took in the scene, his rage palpable.

"She’s gone," you whispered, your voice broken and hollow. "She’s really gone."

Rhysand knelt beside you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. "I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with grief. "I’m so, so sorry."

The pain was unbearable, a searing agony that consumed your entire being. You clung to your mother’s lifeless form, your sobs echoing in the silence. The room around you seemed to spin, the walls closing in as darkness began to creep into your vision.

And then, everything went black.

When you awoke, the memory of your mother’s death was etched into your mind, a scar that would never heal. The image of her lifeless body, the blood, the pain, all of it haunted you. It was a nightmare that you relived over and over, a wound that time would never mend.

Tears sprang to your eyes, but you held them in. "Are you all right?" Azriel asked, his voice soft but filled with concern. His eyes searched yours, a hint of worry flickering in their depths. You smiled, stood from your seat, and quickly brushed away invisible stains on your dress, avoiding eye contact. "If you need to talk, I'm here, you know," Azriel spoke softly. You glanced up at him. Azriel wore a tunic of deep, rich purple that seemed to complement his dark, mysterious aura perfectly. The fabric clung to his muscular frame in all the right places, accentuating his strength and grace. It was clear that every detail of his outfit had been carefully chosen, from the intricate stitching along the seams to the subtle shimmer of the fabric in the candlelight.

The tunic was adorned with subtle embroidery, delicate patterns that seemed to dance along the fabric like shadows in the moonlight. The designs were understated yet elegant, adding a touch of sophistication to Azriel's otherwise simple attire.

His hair was freshly combed, the strands falling in dark waves around his face. Each lock seemed to catch the light, creating a halo of darkness that framed his chiseled features. There was a quiet confidence in the way he carried himself, a sense of power and authority that was impossible to ignore."You look handsome tonight, Shadowsinger," you said with a deflecting grin. He sighed, not appreciating the change of subject.

Just then as you stood there, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, a gentle hand touched you from behind .You turned and your heart swelled with warmth as you beheld Feyre, her eyes sparkling with affection and admiration. She wore a gown as resplendent as your own, adorned with jewels that seemed to catch the light and reflect it back in a dazzling display of beauty.

"Feyre," you breathed, a smile spreading across your lips. Her presence was like a balm to your soul, a reminder that you were not alone in this world."You look stunning," Feyre said, her voice soft and full of sincerity. She reached out, taking your hands in hers, her touch gentle and reassuring. "Truly, you take my breath away."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, moved by her words and the genuine love that shone in her gaze. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "You look absolutely radiant yourself."

Feyre's smile widened, and she pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close as if she never wanted to let go. The scent of her hair, mingled with the subtle perfume of flowers, enveloped you in a sense of comfort and belonging.

"I'm so glad you're here," Feyre murmured against your hair, her voice filled with emotion. "Tonight is a celebration of freedom, of hope, of new beginnings. And I couldn't imagine sharing it with anyone else."

You squeezed her hand, feeling a surge of gratitude and love for this woman who had become not just a friend, but a sister to you. "I'm glad to be here too," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears that threatened to spill over. "With you, by my side, I feel like I can face anything."

Feyre pulled back, her eyes searching yours with an intensity that took your breath away. "You're stronger than you know," she said, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "And tonight, we'll show the world just how powerful you truly are."

As you shared a tender moment with Feyre, a familiar presence approached from behind. You turned to find Rhysand standing there, his eyes shining with pride and love. His gaze swept over you, taking in every detail of your gown with a mixture of awe and admiration.

"Wow," he breathed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You look absolutely breathtaking."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips at his words, feeling a swell of warmth in your chest at his sincere praise. Rhysand had always been a pillar of strength and support, and his approval meant more to you than words could express.

"Thank you, Rhys," you replied, your voice soft but filled with gratitude. "It means the world to me."

Rhysand stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was gentle, yet electric, sending a shiver down your spine. "You deserve all the happiness in the world," he murmured, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "And tonight, I hope you find it."

"I'm just grateful to have you both by my side," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "You and Feyre mean everything to me."

Rhysand smiled, a soft, affectionate smile that reached his eyes. "We'll always be here for you," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "No matter what" you gave him a small smile.

"I suppose Nesta and Cassian won't be joining us tonight," Rhysand remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. Feyre chuckled, shaking her head knowingly. "I believe they've found a different way to celebrate," she said with a teasing smile. Rhysand groaned theatrically, rolling his eyes. "Let's just hope they don't add to the drama with some new trauma," he quipped, his tone filled with mock exasperation.

Feyre giggled, her laughter ringing with warmth and affection. She nudged Rhysand playfully. "Oh, come now. They're just taking advantage of the freedom we fought so hard for," she said, her eyes dancing with mirth.

Rhysand sighed dramatically. "Well, let's hope they remember their manners this time," he said with a smirk, earning a laugh from Feyre.

You linked your hands with Azriel and shot Rhys a wink and a smirk. "Not like you were any different, brother." Feyre laughed, and Rhys nudged her playfully before Azriel winnowed you away.

The ballroom was opulently decorated, the light casting a warm glow on the throng of guests. All the High Lords were present: Tarquin, Tamlin—who you barely glanced at—Kallias and Vivien, looking regal as always, and Beron with his son Eris. You despised Eris for what he did to your cousin Mor, the reason she couldn't attend tonight.

For a moment, your gazes locked. Eris's amber eyes roamed over you, lingering on the delicate embroidery that adorned your gown, the way it hugged your curves with subtle grace. There was a glint of curiosity in his gaze, an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His smirk deepened slightly, a knowing glint flickering in his eyes as he took in your appearance.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks under his unabashed scrutiny, a mixture of annoyance and a strange thrill. With a subtle shift, you turned away but his amber eyes seemed to catch yours at every turn despite your efforts to avoid him, a smirk forming on his lips as he assessed you. You blushed, heat rising to your cheeks as you took your seat next to Azriel.

Rhysand began briefing everyone as each High Lord took turns expressing their joy at being free.

You looked down as Feyre spoke, "Please enjoy this party, take it as a new beginning." All the High Lords rose and began to mingle. You stood, but Azriel caught your hand. "Where are you going?" he asked, worry in his eyes. "Relax, Azriel, I'm just getting a drink," you said, and he nodded, releasing you. Rhysand seemed to have noticed and looked at Azriel; you knew they were communicating silently. As you moved gracefully through the crowded ballroom, the delicate fabric of your gown rustling with each step, you made your way towards the wine table. The air was filled with laughter and music, the chatter of High Lords and Ladies mingling in a harmonious symphony of celebration.

Just as you reached for a glass of wine, a sudden commotion broke out nearby. A drunken couple stumbled past you, their unsteady steps threatening to knock into you.

You stumbled, your balance faltering as you teetered on your heels. In an instant, you felt a pair of strong hands grip your waist, steadying you before you could fall. Heat surged through your body at the contact, your heart pounding in your chest. You looked up, breath hitching, and met those familiar amber eyes. Eris. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of amusement and something deeper, something that made your pulse quicken. The smirk on his lips was infuriatingly confident as his hands lingered on your waist, the warmth of his touch seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive drawl that sent shivers down your spine. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

His words were laced with a teasing edge, but there was an underlying sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. You tried to step back, to create some distance between you, but his hands tightened slightly, holding you in place. The room around you seemed to blur, the noise of the party fading into the background as your senses narrowed to the man standing before you.

"You should watch where you're going," he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. "This place can be dangerous."

"Thank you," you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to appear unaffected. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. "But I can take care of myself."

He chuckled softly, a rich, melodic sound that sent another wave of heat through you. "I'm sure you can," he replied, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. The touch was light, almost tender, and it took everything in you not to lean into it.

You finally managed to step back, his hands reluctantly releasing you as you put some much-needed distance between you. "Is that any way to thank someone?" Eris drawled, the smirk never leaving his face.

You took a steadying breath, trying to ignore the lingering warmth from his touch and the way your heart was still racing. "Thank you," you said again, more firmly this time. "But I don't need your help."

"Of course," he said, inclining his head slightly. "But the offer stands."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your mind swirling with a mixture of irritation and something else—something you weren't quite ready to acknowledge. You watched him go, his confident stride and the way the light caught his hair making it hard to look away.

Finally, you took a deep breath and made your way back to your seat, trying to ignore the way your skin still tingled where he had touched you. You sat down next to Azriel, who gave you a questioning look. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied, offering him a reassuring smile. "Just ran into an old... acquaintance."

Azriel's gaze flicked briefly to where Eris had gone, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "If you need anything..."

"I know," you said, cutting him off gently. "Thank you, Azriel."

As the night went on, you tried to focus on the celebration, on the laughter and the music and the sense of freedom that permeated the room. But every now and then, your thoughts would drift back to Eris, to the way his hands had felt on your waist and the look in his eyes. And you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to him than you had ever realized.

[purple-writer8]

But Daddy I Love Him - ACOTAR

Rhysand x Autumn Court Reader (Beron’s Daughter)

“I’ll tell you something right now, I’d rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning.”

warnings: abused eris, autumn court shenanigans, mentioned abuse (verbal and physical), talks of violence, forbidden love, beron being beron, beron being abusive, physical abuse, angst, sexism, the autumn court brothers

2.5k words

Masterlist :)

You were Beron's Achilles heel. 

His youngest child and only daughter. The Princess of Autumn. You were spoiled, by your parents and your six older brothers--loved by everyone in your family. You knew they all hated each other, that your father was a bad man, abusive to your brothers and your mother. But for some reason, you were loved by him, doted on by him. 

You didn't look a lot like him, or like your brothers, or like your mother. Unlike them, you sported dirty blonde hair, though your powers still resembled theirs-- wielding fire like the rest of your family. 

Despite your peculiar hair color, your father loved you inmensely, showing you more affection than he did any of your elder siblings combined. You were lucky, lucky that he didn't do with you what he did to your brothers, that he didn't unleash his wrath on you like he did on Eris or the others. 

What Beron did do, though, was shelter you. You lived in the Autumn Palace, and rarely ever saw outside of it. Your father would rather you stay in your rooms, where you were safe from the dangers of the realm. You had guards to accompany everywhere, and if it weren't guards-- it was your older brothers. You loved them, all of your brothers, but your favorite was Eris. 

He was the gentlest out of all of them, the one that cared the most for you, the one that understood you. Eris would do anything for you, and you for him. It was thanks to him that you found the love of your life. 

Rhysand.  

A year ago, Eris had convinced your father to let you attend balls and parties held by the other High Lords, to let you live a life outside your rooms and the gardens. Beron beat him for the suggestion, but nonetheless listened to him.  The first ball you attended was in the Dawn Court, a celebration of sorts. Most courtiers from all around Prythian were mesmerized-- and stunned-- to learn of your existence. 

Rhysand was one of them. Cauldron, the High Lord of the Night Court was smitten from the moment that he saw you enter alongside your brothers, your head bowed as you walked through the crowd. He had to have you. 

And he did just that. It was just pleasantries at first, he was kind to you-- much to Beron's dismay and Eris' chagrin. Everyone knew what the Night Court was made of, and how Rhysand ruled over it. Eris would rather kill the High Lord of Night than let him near you, caring not for court relations but for your well-being. He remembered what happened to Morrigan in the Night Court, tortured by her own family. 

He would never let you set foot there. 

The second ball you attended was in the Summer Court. Eris had been tasked by Beron to woo some Winter Court aristocrat's daughter, so he was quite busy. Which meant you could slip away without anyone noticing, explore the palace and finally not be babysat by your brother. 

You had found a balcony that overlooked the city of Adriata when you heard, "There you are... I've been looking for you," in that deep voice you had been incessantly thinking about ever since your first outing. 

You turned to find Rhysand standing there, clad in black leather, his violet eyes shining bright while a feline smirk grazed his perfectly sculpted features. You blinked, your doe eyes shining for him. 

He smiled wide, and you instantly knew you were done for. You would be his. 

And you were. You and Rhysand began a secret relationship, a secret and dangerous relationship. You let him in, let him into your mind, let him be the one to take your purity. You were Rhysand's and he was yours. Not only that, but you saw each other in secret at different gatherings. And sometimes he winnowed into Autumn territory in the dead of night to see you, not caring for the consequences of his actions. Of what Beron would do when he learned he had defiled you. 

"I almost melted his mind when I saw him eyeing you," Rhysand growled, kissing you neck in a feverish manner. You let out a low whine, your fingers running through his onyx  silky hair. "I can't wait to claim you," he spoke breathlessly, "to make you my wife." 

You moaned wantonly when one of his hands found its way under your skirts while the other worked to unbutton the top of your dress. "Take me to your court," you pleaded, hooking your leg on his lower waist and pulling him closer to you. 

"I'll take you, steal you away from this place... make you the Lady of Night..." he groaned, one hand snaking to your neck, holding you steady as he kissed down your neck and then your shoulders. You whined and writhed under his touch, then he said, "be quiet, baby... wouldn't want your daddy to find you like this..." 

No, you wouldn't. There was a ball happening, this time in your home, and you had slipped away just so Rhysand could follow you and corner you in a dimly lit hallway. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer into yourself, like you were a sick woman and the only remedy was Rhysand close to you. 

"Sister." The voice of Fenix, your second-eldest brother, ran through the hallway. You jumped, pushing Rhys off of your body as if he had the plague. Rhysand turned to the Vanserra male, a smirk on his face, as if he hadn't been caught in a very compromising situation. 

Fenix hummed, his eyes narrowed on you, "interesting." 

"Fenix..." you warned him, your eyes travelling to his hands that were now curled into tight fists. You were sure any second now he would send fire your lover's way. "You have one second to disappear before I lynch you and send you back to your cauldron forsaken court," your brother said in a dangerously low tone. 

Rhys was unbothered. "I think I'll be taking your sister with me then," he said, wrapping one strong arm around your waist. "Over my fucking dead body, Rhysand." 

You closed your eyes in defeat when you heard Eris' voice boom through the hallway.  A feline smile happened upon Rhys's lips, "that can be arranged." 

You turned to Eris, your eyes silently pleading with him, but it was for naught because he was only glaring at the man that had his arm wrapped tightly around you. "Drop my sister, Rhysand. Or there will be hell to pay." Eris warned slowly. 

"Eris, I love him!" You shrieked, only for Fenix to let out a low growl. "And I'll lynch him," he threatened, only for Rhys to laugh. 

"I would love to see you try. We're leavin-" Before Rhys could finish, a beam of fire was sent his way, though it misted before it could even touch him. You cried in horror when you saw your father standing at the end of the hallway, backed by the remaining of your brothers. Seldom from Lucien, who was not in Autumn anymore. "You dare touch my daughter?!" Beron roared, the walls of the palace shaking from the sheer force of his words. 

Rhysand grinned at him, "we can all talk about this like adults." 

Wishful thinking. Your brothers wasted no time in their attack on the Night Court's High Lord, sending flames at him-- though they were no match for Rhysand. He swiftly pushed you out of the way and winnowed around the hall, avoiding each attack. "Please stop!" You cried in horror, but to no avail. They wanted Rhysand dead. 

"You are BANISHED from this court, for now and forever." Your father's voice thundered through the palace, and instantly the flames died down-- leaving only a very shocked Rhysand. "Beron... we can talk abo-" 

"Leave now, or I send Eris to your court with our army. Leave or we are at war," at your father's threat, you turned to Rhysand in horror. You knew he could kill your entire family with a single blink, that he could really take you and form a war between courts-- and win it. 

He spoke in your mind. "Give me the word and I will take you away, bunny. I am not scared of your father or his weak threats." 

"Go. I will fix this." You responded. 

Rhysand turned to Beron, bowed with a wicked grin on his face, and winnowed away. You stared at the space he had just been standing in longing, before a grip yanked you forward. You whimpered as you looked up at your father's rage - filled expression. "How do you dare?" He asked in a tone that he had never once used on you. You trembled, his grip burning into your skin, causing you to wince in pain. 

Eris stepped between the two of you, pulling you behind his frame to shield you from your father's wrath. Beron's glare burned through Eris, and you could almost feel it burning your skin. "You will marry someone of my choosing. Until then, you will remain in your rooms." Beron spoke, his tone offering no room for bargaining. 

"But Daddy, I love him!" You cried, stepping from behind your older brother to face your father's rage. Beron growled, "what do you know about love? You're a woman! There's no choice for you in this matter!" 

You scoffed, he raised you just to cage you. "I love him!" You pressed again, and he simply rolled his eyes at you, "you know nothing of the world." 

"I love him, and I'm having his baby!" You shrieked, and horror instantly was etched unto your father's expression. Your brothers all looked as if they had seen a ghost, eyes wide and mouths hung open at your revelation. Eris covered his face with his hands, "I'll kill him..." 

"I'm not..." you admitted, "but cauldron, you should see your faces." 

Beron was frozen in shock at your boldness. He was not dealing with this. So to Eris growled, "deal with her." 

Your father winnowed away along with the rest of your brothers, leaving the eldest and you to sort out this mess. Before you knew it, your brother winnowed you away and into your room. "Sister, please come to your senses..." Eris started. 

"No, I am not coming to my senses," you snapped at Eris. 

"Rhysand is crazy, the entire Night Court is full of depraved individuals. Remember what happened to Morrigan? How they left her at our border? They'll do the same to you..." Eris trailed, his expression one full of pain and sheer anger. 

"I am not Morrigan! He would never hurt me... and Rhysand said he wasn't the one that hurt her. Eris, I know he may seem crazy, but he's the one I want. I love him! And he loves me!" You contested, your voice cracking as tears once more swelled in your eyes. Rhysand was chaos, he was revelry... and he was also the love of your life.  

 Eris let out a frustrated groan, he could not believe his sweet sister was so hung up on the cruelest High Lord there ever was in the history of Prythian. "Sleep on it, sister. Because Beron will never let you wed him," and with that, your brother left your room, slamming the door on his way out. Slamming the door on you and your future. 

- 

You were summoned early in the morning to breakfast with your family, you attended with your arguments sharp as knives-- ready to hurl them at your father. As soon as you entered the Dining Hall, your brothers erupted into their arguments, all of them reminding you of all the things Rhysand had done in his life. 

Your father looked smug as your five brothers scolded you for wanting the Night Court's leader. Your mother looked mortified, her face pained-- she just wanted you to be happy.  

"He melts minds," said Fenix. 

"He has those two bat boys, they are evil and kill innocents," said Zire. 

"He lets his court torture women, look at Morrigan," said Lukas. 

"I heard he keeps a hundred concubines in his palace," said Ember. 

"He runs his court without any sort of morals," said Eris. 

You thought it was rich coming from your brothers. They were the ones that tortured Lucien's lover, and the ones that ran him out of Autumn. They didn't know you knew that, though-- one of your servants had told you what had happened. 

Their hypocrisy and vile words towards Rhysand made you seethe, sending flames flying from your hands and to the walls of the room as you stood up. "I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all your hypocritical bitching and moaning," you screeched. 

Your brothers went still, their mouths all clamping shut as they stared at you in shock. 

"You're a Vanserra," your father growled. "Whether you like it or not, you do my bidding, and if you think I'll let you wed Rhysand just because you want to, then you are dafter than you appear, child."

You remained silent, digesting your father's words. You had always known your father to be cruel. Knew he beat your brothers, knew he was the one that bid them to kill Jesminda and run Lucien out of the court. But you had never known his cruelty, no. You had always been his weakness, the child he truly did appear to love. Though now you knew that just because he didn't you, it didn't mean that he cared any more for you than he did your brothers. 

"I may be a Vanserra," you trembled, "but I would gladly disgrace the name. You've already done it plenty." 

Beron never once expected you to go against him like this, no, you were the good one. You were the dutiful daughter, the one he had kept hidden for years on end to protect. Where did you get all this conviction?  Your father stood from his seat at the end of the table, Eris doing the same thing— ready to intervene if he were to attack you. 

Beron strode towards you quickly, and Eris tried to jump in between the two of you, but with a flick of his hand your father sent Eris flying to the wall. You gasped, meaning to rush to your brother, but your father grabbed you midway. 

His grip was deathly, and as you looked up at him— your blood ran cold. And before you could even pull away, his hand struck you across the face. 

-

Part Two

Author’s note:

i instantly got this idea when i heard this song like IT FITS PERFECT

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs

[florencemtrash]

Brown Eyed Beauty — Lucien x Reader

Fond, childhood memories are few and far between for Lucien. But he's reminded of every good thing when he looks at you.

Author's note: DAMNIT! Brown eyes deserve to be treated with the same tender reverence as any other color. This one is for all the brown eyed beauties (and Lucien lovers) out there.

There was a hidden stream Eris had taken him fishing once, back when he was a stringy child with two eyes and soft hands.

“You’ll need to build up your strength and the calluses on your palms, then the fish won’t be able to slip out of your grasp so easily.” Eris told him, standing up to his knees in the gentle current, pant legs rolled up with the ends dripping. His body was slim as a reed, but strong, and on the cusp of adulthood. Pale bruises were scattered across a pale, freckled chest, purple, green, and yellow.

Lucien watched with bated breath as Eris tracked a shiny, silver-pink body darting between the rocks, his eyes untricked by the bending of sunlight as it dove into the water. 

There. 

Eris leaned down and dipped his hands into the stream with lightning swiftness. “Gotcha.” 

His hands broke the water. The salmon writhed, fighting with every gasping breath and splashing water onto Eris’s already soaking trousers.

“Here.” Eris stretched his arms out to where Lucien stood in the shallows. The salmon was giving up, the rhythm of its whipping body slowing. “It’s tired. Try holding it now.” 

Lucien held on for five seconds before the tail slapped him across the face, startling him so much he dropped the fish and its scaly, sleek body began to race downstream.

“No!” Lucien dove for it, red hair slipping under clear waters. The current was stronger than he expected, or maybe it was just that he was weaker than his brother. He felt something pulling downward, keeping him submerged.

His first response was to panic, to flail his arms and legs out uselessly. But then he stopped. It was peaceful down here, the water so clear that he could catch every grain of sand splashed over brick-brown rocks like stars. Tiny fishes, silky smooth with beady eyes, darted in and out of crevices. Light behaved differently underwater, fragmenting and casting lovely golden shapes on stones the color of fresh-pressed coffee. 

Here it was calm. Here was a place where Beron’s power couldn’t touch him. Here he was safe. 

A strong hand grasped the back of his shirt, hauling him up soaking and sputtering with a brackish taste sliding down his throat. 

The bruises on Eris’s cheekbones stood out on his pale skin, the fright in his eyes turning to anger. 

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Eris yelled and all but tossed his sopping body onto a yellowing patch of grass. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucien mumbled. He sat, shivering in the Autumn chill until Eris caught another salmon and assembled sticks in a neat circle of sand, lighting it with a snap of his slender fingers. 

“Tomorrow we’ll come back,” Eris promised as Lucien sank his teeth into the juicy, pink flesh. The skin was perfectly crisp and grease dribbled down his chin hot and slick. Eris wiped it away with a soft swatch of moss. “I’ll teach you to swim properly.” 

He didn’t seem to mind the descending cold, and for that Lucien was grateful. It meant he would get to keep Eris’s shirt until his was finished drying on the cracked log. 

But unbeknownst to them, Beron had come home earlier than anticipated with their other brothers. Eris was whipped ten times for leaving the Forest House unattended and Lucien was locked in his room for three days. They never went back to that stream — at least not together — and Lucien learned to swim on his own in less forgiving waters. 

Lucien still clung onto the memories of that day. Good memories from his childhood were far and few between. 

“You’re staring again.” You sighed contentedly and shifted in the little cradle of earth you’d claimed for youself. Yellowing, waist-high grasses swayed above you, occasionally bowing down with slender fingers to tickle your cheeks. A hundred yards away the Sidra tumbled over stones, rolled onto gray-sand beaches. The air tasted of salt and seaweed. Crisp, tangy, clear. 

“How did you know?” Lucien asked, and you could hear the gentle caress of his smile in the words.

You cracked open your eyes against the sun’s assault high in the midafternoon sky. Sure enough, Lucien was staring at you, golden eye whirring. You ran a languid finger down the bond, light and airy as a kiss. He braced his arms by your head, sinking down until his body was pressed flush against yours. 

You smiled. “I can feel it. It’s my special talent.”

“Oh?” Lucien chuckled.

“I’ve cultivated it over the years. A product of having a brute like you chase after me like a hound goes after a fox.” Not that you’d ever gone far. 

Scarlet strands of hair slipped out of the braid you’d arranged hours ago. They hung around his elegant, scarred face like liquid fire, casting a warm glow onto his already tanned skin. You tucked them back behind his sharp ears. Traced the curve of his bones until he was leaning into your touch.

“You wound me,” he murmured, kissing your palms. 

You blushed, feeling the brush of his full lips against your sensitive skin. “I didn’t mean it.” 

He smiled — a crooked, boyish smile. “I know.” 

He looked into your coffee eyes. The light bent differently when they touched your irises, curving around the bends like honey, cutting amber crescents at the edges of their rich color. You closed and opened them slowly, letting the light pour in like cream into coffee, swirling and setting them aflame. 

Lucien was back in that stream. The world was still. There was nothing that could hurt him. Just clarity, peace, and the riverbed glittering beneath him. 

“I love you, Y/n.”

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

Eris Vanserra had spent his life building up a wall to hide behind. Indifference, even cruelty. Not because he wanted to, but because it was the only way to survive, to make it long enough until his father died. The only trouble, when you wear a mask long enough, it’s hard to pull it down and away. As Eris grew older the indifference was at the forefront of his person, less energy to carry the mask of the arrogant heir to Autumn and then suddenly you walked into his life and it all fell away.

Gorgeous in every way and unlike so many of the people who met him, you weren’t afraid to take a jab or two. Admittedly at first you were a bit more timid about it, but every time you made a sarcastic comment and he didn’t end you, the less fear you had. He was happy to not have someone bowing or curtsying with each word out of his mouth. Eris Vanserra was down bad.

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXIX

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds / @lady-of-tearshed

Elain straightened her skirts, smoothing out the fabric with gentle fingers. The golden rings she was wearing glimmered when she moved, attracting her attention. Rubies and pearls adorned each band, riches on full display as was traditionally expected of an Autumn Court bride. She breathed in, feeling Lucien’s presence down the bond. She could practically feel each beat of his heart matching the rhythm of her own, a familiar comfort while she waited by the edge of the woods. 

Cora had just left to tell Lucien that Elain was ready, disappearing in an effortless winnow and leaving her to wait for Eris to arrive. She absently patted the crown of her head, ensuring no curl was out of place. The comb Eris had gifted her pinned the strands away from her face, revealing the pale column of her neck. She bit her lip nervously, wondering if Lucien would find her lovely. 

My mate. 

Elain whispered the words, grounding herself in the moment. 

My husband. 

She supposed she might have to get used to referring to Lucien as such, even if they had both decided to take things slow once they returned to Velaris. There were countless little details Elain still wanted to know about the man she had risked everything for, and considering she was immortal, they would have all the time in the world. She could imagine it all so clearly, experiencing the small and everyday joys with someone she had undoubtedly fallen for. 

Elain smiled, her lips pulled upwards involuntarily as memories from the night before flashed in her mind. Lucien had known exactly what she had needed, and she had managed to surprise even herself at the shameless way she had expressed her every desire. It had been absolutely perfect, he had been absolutely perfect.

At the quiet sound of low voices, Elain was dragged out of her thoughts. She got onto the tips of her toes, peering through the foliage until her eyes landed on a familiar figure. She spotted Eris, his hair a near match to the maple leaves that gently danced around her. Gripping her skirts, she began to walk towards him, but she stopped in her tracks when she noticed that his father was at his side.

Eris looked handsome in a flawlessly tailored waistcoat, the brocade pattern shimmering to look like roses against the dark brown fabric. There was not a single wrinkle on his neatly pressed shirtsleeves, and his long leather boots appeared to be brand new. He barely resembled his father, and the stark contrast in their outfits highlighted each difference. 

The High Lord was wearing an elegant jacket made of velvet in a deep shade of crimson. The cut was simple yet flattering, golden details stitched along the collar created a beautiful pattern, standing out brightly against the material. He looked devastatingly regal and completely in his element. 

A warning shiver ran up Elain’s spine, the feeling making her uneasy. It felt like a warning, a bird’s call before a raging thunderstorm. A voice seemed to linger in the large open space, urging her to wait.  

Instead of continuing forward, Elain hid herself from view, trying her best to use her surroundings as a shield. Drawing on her very limited knowledge of stealth, she focused her energy on staying as quiet as she could. Her palm touched the rough bark of the tree next to her, and she leaned onto the thick trunk slightly for support, the pure white train of her dress dragging along wavy roots. She strained her ears, listening to the steady rise of the High Lord’s voice as the two men approached, coming closer and not knowing that they were being watched. 

“When the girl arrived in our court, I wasn’t pleased,” Beron said, his footsteps silent along the forest floor despite the twigs and leaves in his path. For a moment, Elain was reminded of a vicious predator, feline in nature, ready to pounce. 

Eris hummed, the soft response carrying on a gentle wind. “And now?” 

Beron shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting upwards. “She’s grown on me.” 

Elain realised belatedly that they were speaking about her. She felt as her brows pinched  together. Curiosity had her inching forward in an attempt to hear better, eager to know what else they might say. The feeling of dread still lingered in her gut, and she worried if Eris might share her secret with his father. Anger gripped her readily, and she knew a frustrated blush was staining her pale cheeks. 

Elain gasped when a rough hand grabbed her wrist, and although she was able to stop herself from crying out in surprise, terror slowed her reactions. Slim fingers cold as ice held onto her tightly, feeling like claws. Once her emotions settled, she whipped her head around to see who it was, prepared to scream for help. 

“What are you doing?” Lethe hissed, the question falling between clenched teeth. She was clearly not very pleased with having caught someone eavesdropping on a private conversation between her friend and his father. 

Elain kept her voice low, barely a whisper as she made her demand. “Let go.” 

The other woman did not, but Elain was secretly very proud of herself for maintaining her composure. Lethe tugged her arm forcefully. “You’re being rude,” she admonished, judgement leaking into her tone despite how quiet the words were. 

Elain rolled her eyes, biting back a bitter accusation as she once again turned her attention to the High Lord. He had a hand on his son’s shoulder, the gesture surprisingly sweet and fatherly. “I suppose I should thank you, Eris.” 

At the words, even Lethe joined in listening, standing closer. She ignored the pointed look Elain shot in her direction, aggressively knocking into her shoulder. It was almost friendly, playful in nature, easing some of her nerves. 

Elain saw as Eris frowned, a wary edge falling over his features. “For what?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused hound. Beron’s grasp tightened, the tips of his fingers leaving small imprints where they touched. 

The world spun around Elain, making her lose every sense of direction. It was like the ground had disappeared beneath her feet, there and then gone. The feeling of Lethe’s fingers still on her wrist kept her from falling, and she struggled to connect what she saw in front of her with reality.  

Darkness lingered at the edges of her vision, and her mouth was open although no sound fell from her tongue. She felt like she was floating, lingering like a fog that clung to the forest.   

Beron had moved swiftly, like a snake rushing towards its prey. He held the hilt of a knife between his fingers, the only part visible as the blade dug deep through skin and bone. There was a flare of magic, flames dancing for a moment before extinguishing completely. Heat carried in waves, and Eris’s lips parted in silent shock. His amber eyes were wide, their golden depths fading, the strange colour leaking with every passing moment. 

Beron shifted, his hand moving gently from where he had been gripping his son’s shoulder. He placed his palm against the crook of his neck, cupping Eris’s jaw, before he responded to the unanswered question. “For bringing me something Made.” 

Elain would have made a sound, agony ripped through her chest, almost as if she had been the one stabbed. In response to the tension taking over her body, Lethe pulled her close so that Elain fell against her. The moan she made was muffled as the other woman pressed a hand so tightly to her mouth that she could scarcely breathe. 

“Oh gods,” Lethe murmured, terror clinging to the prayer. She tried to pull them both away, but Elain dug her heels into the ground, keeping them in place.   

Eris glanced at the dagger, his hand grabbing onto the High Lord’s fist. He took an uneasy step back. “Father—”

Beron followed, cutting short whatever his son had meant to say. “You lie like your mother,” he interrupted, poisonous resentment in the accusation. He moved his arm a second time, a flash of starlight as the weapon reflected the moon’s glow for the briefest of moments. Beron plunged the dagger forward with no hesitation, jerking the blade upwards violently. 

Eris grunted, blood dripping from his mouth as he leaned into Beron’s grip. It was strange, Elain thought, that it almost looked affectionate. “You play the game of lords well, and I’ve grown to admire you for it, my boy.” 

Eris clung to his father’s jacket, scarlet on his fingers. It was the exact shade of a rose petal, deep and lovely. It left no stain on the crimson velvet. He shook his head, eyes dark.

Beron continued, supporting his son’s weight. “But you’re weak in all the ways that matter, and for that, I have only myself to blame.” 

Eris fell against his father, eyes fluttering shut, as he made a pained sound. Lethe groaned similarly as she watched, clinging to Elain desperately. Beron ran a hand over the back of his son’s head, pressing their foreheads together gingerly, lovingly. “I’m sorry, Eris,” he offered into the stretch of silence, sincerity dripping from his tone.

Eris did not respond. He only grunted one final time when Beron removed the dagger, the tip of the golden blade dull and strange. His knees gave out attempting to hold his own weight, and while a hand searched absently for the wound, the other lingered on his father’s boot. He coughed, blood staining his collar, scarlet ruining his waistcoat. Elain watched, frozen and horrified as Eris collapsed inelegantly, the action so at odds with the self control he usually possessed. 

When he remained unmoving, Lethe sprung into action. She held onto Elain tightly, dragging her away. There were tears on both their cheeks, and Elain choked on a sob when Lethe finally removed the hand she had kept on her mouth.  

Lucien. 

Elain needed her mate. 

“We have to find Callum,” Lethe mumbled, pulling Elain deeper into the woods, leading them towards the sounds of an assembled crowd. 

Wedding guests.  

Elain realised just as Lethe did that the usual rhythms of the forest had fallen silent. It was unnerving and unnatural, a warning just as striking as the toll of a bell. Lethe tensed before she shoved Elain forward, pushing her until she lost her balance. “Run,” she ordered, frightened eyes wide.

Elain could do nothing but obey. She began to sprint, kicking off her shoes so she could gain more purchase in the loose dirt. She did not even bother looking back to see if Lethe was following her, desperate in her attempts to reach Lucien. She tugged on the golden thread connecting them, hoping he would hurry. 

Elain collided with branches as she continued towards the growing sound of laughter and conversation, sobbing in her relief. She was aware of a presence behind her, looming and ancient, the magic freezing the blood in her veins. Twigs cut at the skin of her cheeks, feeling like sharp nails. 

A wolf howled beside her, haunting. 

Elain nearly fell when she tripped on the uneven land, golden skirts getting in the way. She grabbed at the fabric, holding it near her waist.

The forest was a maze, and she was grateful for her faerie strength and stamina as she ran, trying to reach Lucien. She had to tell him about Eris, needed him to know about what his father had done. 

Darkness appeared suddenly, like a cloud had floated across the sky and blocked the moon. Elain continued to run, slipping in her desperation, a sob ripped from deep within her throat. 

There was no light, and she felt sick. The trees spun around her, overwhelming her senses as she tripped, scraping her legs. The copper scent of her own blood lingered in the air, dizzying. Elain fell to her knees as Eris had, but at least the ground was soft, she thought, the dirt smooth beneath her fingers.

Elain glanced up, craning her neck as the stars winked out of existence. She briefly saw the moon, shining through a gap in the dense canopy of leaves. It was framed prettily by the night sky, hope rising briefly but despair taking root as the moon was swallowed entirely by the dark.

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones - XI

Genre: Angst/Romance  Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Please be mindful: some implied language may be found triggering.

shoutout to my darling @abruisedmuse for being on this journey with me! ily4ever <3

Tagging: @climb-the-mountian | @vanserrass | @positivewitch | @readthelastpaage | @zenkindoflove | @animezinglife | @clockwork-ashes | @stormycleric | @eastofatlanta | @carolynmezzosoprano | @carnythian | @runningwiththeoceans | @readychilledwine | @goldenmagnolias | @thedarkinmansfield | @mali22 | @maidr-00 | @electromagnetic-waves | @theeternalstruggle | @devilsfoodcake22 | @the-midnightwriter | @moonfawnx | @weesablackbeak | @ladywhilemia | @illyrianshadowhunter | @alohaangels | @moobell55 | @bibliophiliaxvignette | @easchies | @feysandfeels | @thelovelymadone | @corcracrow | @aboggoblin

Find it all here.

Eris stood with his hands clasped behind his back, unbothered as Beron glared at him, per usual. His thumb tapped on the back of his hand as he stood, reigning in his anger that always flared at the sight of his father.

“What is this I hear about the breach in security on the southern border between us and that piece of shit Tamlin?”

Eris tilted his head. “Oh? I thought that was the territory you requested your sentries to oversee, Father? Did something happen?”

“You tell me.” Beron snarled. “Aren’t you the one who is supposed to be responsible for ensuring things like this don’t occur?”

“Yes. I am the one responsible for all security measures of our court.” Eris said and gave his father a small smile. “But again Father, you recently requested a particular group of sentries to oversee that specific area and for me to remove myself from it...I believe it houses a private resident for you? For your...dalliances?”

The High Lord scowled at his son, but Eris only blinked. “Watch that tone, boy. That’s none of your business.”

“Then I’m afraid whatever security breach happened is also none of my business, Father.”

A tense moment of silence passed, and Eris braced himself as his father narrowed his eyes at him.

Over the years under his father’s thumb, Eris had found that while his father was a tyrant, he had gotten lazy. He thought so little of Eris’s manipulative capabilities that he was more than happy to have him do the grunt work. But Eris had eyes and ears everywhere and this had cost the High Lord his absolute control. He had handed it to Eris slowly over the years, without realizing how much it would eventually cost him.

But Eris always treaded this line carefully, always letting Beron forget about it. Always made it seem as though he was a puppet for his father. Eris was a good son; he always did what he was told...but with a slight tweak, a tweak Beron would be too lazy to care about.

Beron’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I am your high lord. You will do as I say.”

Eris bowed his head graciously. “Of course. I would be happy to assist you with this issue, Father. Would you like me to handle the situation?”

Beron’s glare intensified. “Why else did I bother calling you here? Fix it.”

“But of course, Father.” Eris said then ran his tongue over his teeth before continuing with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Though I would like to discuss something with you in return, if you’d be so kind?”

Beron rolled his eyes. “You and that mouth of yours. Spit it out.”

Eris loosened the slight damper on his anger and rolled his neck back, then met his father’s gaze. “The other night at dinner, I did not appreciate how I was spoken to or how my wife was spoken to,” he said slowly and Beron raised a brow. “I am humbly requesting you never speak to her in that manner again. She is not any concern of yours. At all.”

Beron scoffed. “Is that why you’ve been missing for two days? You’re upset with me?”

“It was disrespectful.” Eris said calmly and though fire was pulsating through his body, he continued to tap his thumb against his hand, desperately trying to smother it. He could only show a little at a time. Too much too soon would not go well for him.

“She didn’t like your punishment for her loose tongue, then?” the High Lord said, and a muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw.

“What happens between my wife and I doesn’t concern you, Father.” he said, his fists tightening behind him but he kept his face as neutral as possible. One day he wouldn’t have to. One day he could just rip his father’s head clean off his body. One day.

Beron smirked slowly, watching Eris, and Eris knew exactly what his father would say before he opened his mouth. “Is that so?” he sneered. “Are you afraid she’ll leave you for another Vanserra too?”

He let the comment slide off him, wondering when his father would stop using it as an insult. It didn’t sting anymore. In fact, Eris was bored of it being brought up at all.

“No. Iris gets all that she needs from me and more,” he said and smiled again, allowing the fire flickering in his veins to be found in his gaze. “I’m sure you realize history will not be repeating itself in this situation. So, I am asking again, leave my wife out of your plays. She is not yours to concern yourself with and I will not tolerate you making her uncomfortable again.”

Beron’s smile was a cruel one, laced with amusement. “Oh? And what will you do, son? If I decide I like making her uncomfortable?”

Eris paused here, pursing his lips, his heart thundering in his chest. He would pay for this in some form or another later... but it would be worth it. To not have Iris look at him like she had the other night.

“Well, Father...I will decide to make you uncomfortable.” Eris replied and smiled a dry smile. “You’ll find that I have been a very good son to you. Your son that hardly gives you any trouble, unlike those other idiots no one ever sees. I am your right hand. Your first-born. I will keep this court running as smoothly as possible for you as I truly do enjoy doing what you ask of me.” He paused here, watching his father as the High Lord assessed him. “But you will find that I can be very unhelpful if my wife continues to be spoken to and about in that way again.”

“You’d shirk your duties, boy?”

“You mean your duties, Father?”

And Eris knew it clicked then, in his father’s small brain, exactly how much deep shit Eris would put him in should he decide to be a menace.

“Your mother’s son through and through, hm?” Beron said quietly and Eris raised his brows.

“I am your son too, father. I was raised by your hand.”

Eris almost wanted to laugh at his own statement. Because quite literally so, Beron had not held back to beat his whole family into submission. Especially his firstborn, whom he allowed zero mistakes.

And yet.

The High Lord stared down at his son with slight loathing and Eris waited.

“Don’t make me beat some sense into you, boy.”

Eris shrugged and Beron’s eyes narrowed. It was a long moment before the High Lord finally scoffed.

“I hope her pussy is worth it.”

“Again,” Eris said, a muscle flexing in his jaw, his fists clenching behind his back. “You will not speak of my wife this way. I will decide how she behaves. I will decide what she will or won’t do. I will decide anything that concerns her. She is off-limits to everyone else. At all times.”

Beron quirked a brow. “Is that so?”

Eris gave him a tight smile. “I don’t like people playing with my things, Father. You taught me that.” he said. “I hope I have made myself clear enough for you.”

A tense silence filled the room and Eris wondered exactly what Beron would do. What his father was thinking. He had crossed a line here and showed his hand. Eris only hoped Beron thought he knew his son well enough that his declaration was one of possessiveness rather than anything else.

“What about your mother, Eris?” Beron said softly and Eris willed himself not to flinch, not to show any reaction. “It would be a shame if one day you shirked your duties and I...had to have a long conversation with your mother about it.”

Eris’s fist tightened behind his back and slowly, silently, he took a breath.

“I would think that would be unnecessary, father.”

Beron tilted his head and smiled. “That’ll depend on you, I suppose,” he said airily. “If not your mother, maybe your hounds? You seem to have a strange attachment to them. Surely you don’t need all twelve.”

“You know how valuable those hounds are to our security system.”

“Ah, yes. Our security system.” Beron said, interlacing his hands in his lap, and watched Eris with a smirk. “Even so...It would be very interesting to see what you hold in high regard, no?”

A muscle flexed in his jaw once more. “Meaning?”

“I will hold my tongue about your little wife, sure.” the High Lord with a shrug. “In fact, I won’t talk about her at all.”

“Then we have an understanding.” Eris said tightly.

“Oh yes,” Beron said calmly. “We definitely have an understanding.”

Eris nodded and stood for a moment before whirling around to leave. Except his father cleared his throat and Eris immediately froze.

Slowly, Eris turned back to face his father with a pleasant expression. “Yes, Father?”

“While we have an understanding, I do want to make one thing clear, son,” Beron spoke and Eris braced himself. “Should you step one toe out of line and think to speak to me that way again, I will find myself truly testing where your loyalties lie.”

“My loyalties lie with you, High Lord.” Eris said automatically and Beron scoffed.

“We shall see.” the High Lord sneered. “It would be a shame if I had to test that theory. A shame if I had to find out what you valued more...your mother, your hounds...or your pretty wife’s cunt.”

“Father.” Eris snarled but the High Lord only laughed humorlessly.

“You said your piece and I said mine, boy.” Beron snapped. “Now, get out of my sight and go fix that border issue.”

Eris’s mouth twisted in distaste, and it took him a moment — a good minute of trying to calm his thoughts so he didn’t snap the old man’s neck. So he didn’t do anything stupid.

Instead, he smiled tightly and bowed his head, despite his father’s look that always promised violence. He was too used to it, and Eris would take every bruise given to him if it got his father away from the two women in his life. He’d said his piece. He’d drawn a line and he would bear all the consequences for it. He had to.

It was not lost on him when his thoughts mirrored that of his wife...what was another bruise?

--

Iris stared at the bouquet of flowers on the table and blinked. She reached out a hand and hesitantly touched a petal then swallowed.

She had spent the time since her mother-in-law’s visit mindlessly tidying their room and thinking. Thinking and overthinking. Getting angry. Then sad. Then downright anxious.

Lady Enya’s visit had shifted her thought process and it made her realize how narrow her view had been about this whole thing. Thinking about talking to Eris still made her want to vomit but she tried to work through it.

Until she had heard him return and did the only rational thing she could — hide in the bathroom. She only stepped out after he left and that’s when her eyes fell on the bouquet sitting here now.

She had been simmering in anger this whole time. So angry.

At her father. At Beron. At all the stupid powerful males in positions that were able to hurt people and make them feel so small. Which is exactly what Beron had done. He made her feel small. He made Eris feel small.

She swallowed, thinking of the look Beron had shot Lady Enya before they left. He had been making her feel small for years.

But Eris…

“I am not him. I actively try my hardest not to be like him in any way.”

He could’ve been. He could. But he hadn’t.

“I will do everything I can to protect you from him and take the brunt of that as well and I am sorry that it has to be that way and I am sorry that you will likely have to hear more things from him that you won’t like, but I am playing his game so that I can keep worming my way around until I can finish him.”

And she had called him a coward. She had made him feel small too.

She had lashed out this morning knowing what she said would’ve been worse than gutting him. Words were often the best of weapons and Iris had been at the end of those weapons long enough to know how to throw it back.

But what would it cost her with Eris?

“You both are coming from the same place. Trust yourself and your judgment. But also...give him the chance to prove himself to you.”

She swallowed again as his mother’s words rang in her ear and Iris bit her lip, guilt eating away at her, as it had been for hours, the pit in her stomach growing. He hadn’t deserved her throwing words like that at him and had regretted it the moment they slipped out of her mouth. Not that he had held back either because clearly, he knew how to hurt.

But...he brought her flowers.

Iris frowned at the beautiful bouquet now. Was it an apology? Would he —

As if summoned by her thoughts, Iris turned at the sound of their suite door opening and Eris stood in the doorway, a tray in his hands.

He paused at the door, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. She noted how he cataloged the choice of dress that hugged her figure, the loose waves of her hair falling down her back. He met her eyes and without saying a word, stepped into the room, closed the door, and made his way to stop in front of her.

“Wife.”

“Husband.” she said dryly, and the corner of his wicked mouth ticked up.

Eris placed the tray on the table and nodded his head toward the chairs. “Would you like to eat?”

She watched him warily. “I didn’t realize you were part of the kitchen staff.”

“For you, wife? But of course.”

They stared at each other in loaded silence for a few minutes before Eris casually waved a hand for her to sit.

Begrudgingly, and because she was hungry, Iris walked to the nearest chair and plopped down. Eris’s lips twitched as he took the seat opposite her and the two stared at each other again, the tension palpable.

So much for trust. One step forward and two steps back.

“So.” Eris began, and Iris blinked before removing the cloth covering the tray of food and grabbing a piece of bread.

“So.” she said, grabbing a knife and looking at him.

“Did you like the flowers?” he asked calmly, and both turned to look at the bouquet.

Iris fidgeted and slowly put the knife and piece of bread down, her nervousness flaring. She frowned at the sound of her thundering heart. Or was it the sound of his?

“I wasn’t sure what your favorite flowers were, so I went with a seemingly obvious choice.” he added, and Iris met his gaze.

“I like carnations. And peonies.” she replied slowly. “But this bouquet is beautiful regardless.”

A heartbeat passed then, “You fucken hate irises, don’t you?” he asked with a snort and Iris bit back a reluctant smile, the tension easing a fraction.

“I really do.” she said and huffed a humorless laugh. “Blame that on my father too. Whenever he beat me too hard, he'd leave a bouquet of crushed irises at my door. Symbolism.”

Eris tensed for just a moment then forced himself to relax. “He keeps getting better and better every time you mention him.” he said tightly, then leaned forward and picked up the knife and bread Iris had put down.

She watched him again, as he had done the first morning, methodically buttering it for her and passing it over. Iris accepted it carefully, watching him fill her a glass of juice and again, pass it over to her.

When he sat back, his own piece of bread in hand and buttering it silently, Iris frowned again.

“Are we going to talk about the other night?” she asked quietly as her heart galloped in her chest.

Eris paused. “I was hoping you’d eat something first so we don’t lash out again. Like we did this morning.”

Iris’s frown deepened and she sat back in her chair, taking a bite of her bread. He watched her chew, his brow raised as he waited.

She swallowed and knew his eyes had tracked the movement of her licking her lips. “Well.” she began. “How did you think that went?”

“Terrible. You?”

“Horrible. I’ve been insulted before but never quite like that.” she muttered angrily, and Eris leaned forward, the bread dropping from his hand.

“So was I.” he said curtly. “My father aside, you took something I shared with you and threw it back in my face. You blamed me for things I had no control over. You called me a coward when I have spent my whole life trying to fight against what I was forced into. I warned you about my father. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.”

Iris flushed, scowling. “I was attacked. Your father attacked me and you let him.” she replied. “You warned me but that doesn’t mean I have to accept that this will be my reality. How am I supposed to feel safe if I have to be on the defense all the time?”

“And how am I supposed to trust you if the first personal thing I tell you, you use against me in an argument?” he said with a flattened expression. “I did not let him attack you. He didn’t wait for my permission. In case you haven’t noticed, my father loves to shit on me constantly.”

“And you just put up with it?”

“I know how to play his game.” he replied, and Iris shook her head.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Iris watched him frown, his brows furrowed in the frustration written all over his face. She had the strong urge to push her fingers to it.

“You want to feel safe and want trust. You cannot ask this of me and not give it in return.” he finally said. “There are times to respond and times to let him think he won so you can do what needs to be done anyway. That is how he needs to be handled. That is the best I can do with him. The best any of us can do at this time.”

They watched each other silently for a moment.

“If you are willing and you find yourself wanting to, be honest with him. He will meet you in the middle if you are willing to meet him.”

Iris took a small breath. “I... have had the same dream about you for the past two nights.” she whispered, and Eris straightened. “It’s not a pleasant one. It was about what you said to your father. What you’d do to me.”

Eris’s face heated and he shifted in his seat. “It was just a dream.” he said quietly, and Iris’s fingers tightened in the fabric of her dress.

“The panic that woke me up was real each time.”

His mouth twisted as he thought this over then met her gaze. “I said this before, and I understand I will have to keep saying it until you believe it, but I have no intention of hurting you. I will not lay a finger on you.” he said firmly. “I only said that so my father didn’t order me to do anything to you in front of him. It’s the one boundary he wouldn’t cross.”

Iris’s expression furrowed into a frown and a moment of silence passed before she quietly asked, “But he’d watch you beat your wife?”

Eris’s expression tightened for a moment then he mumbled, “He has made me watch while he hurt my mother. It would delight him to watch me do the same to you.”

“And you could do nothing?”

Eris scowled. “I do not appreciate the accusation in that question.” he snapped. “You assume I wasn’t also incapacitated.”

She flushed then mumbled curtly, “I’m not accusing, I’m asking.”

Eris watched her warily, scanning her face. It took him a moment before he finally sighed and rolled his shoulders back.

“Look...I am — my private quarters have always been my safe space.” he said quietly. “Aside from out with the hounds, it is the only place I can just...be. No expectations from anyone. I can’t fight with you in it. I — I don’t have it in me. If you really insist on not wanting to have a functioning relationship, I can arrange for you to have your own space and we don’t need to see each other at all.”

Iris blinked rapidly at the unexpectedness of his answer. “And what? Go our separate ways?”

“You know that can’t happen with your father or mine in the picture.” he said with a humorless chuckle. “You are bound to me as I am bound to you.” And Iris watched him scowl at the words, color blooming in his cheeks. “Or at least for a few years until people are busy obsessing over something else. We could just...orbit around each other. Pretend until then.”

Iris’s eyes dropped to the table, feeling her body suddenly heat up. Pretend? He would —

She took a sharp breath and then very quietly said, “You...would do that?”

“I don’t want someone who doesn’t want me. If you don’t want to try, I will not be the one to force you,” he said, and Iris lifted her eyes in time to find him running a hand through his hair. He met her gaze once then looked down, his expression hardening, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “I am not my father. I will not shackle you to me. You would only need to endure for a while until I can make it work.”

It took her a moment to finally speak, her shaking hands bunching in her dress.

“No one’s ever given you a chance, have they?” she said softly and watched as Eris tensed. “Your father has ruined almost everything for you.”

She watched his hands as they fisted then flexed and it took him a moment before replying.

“It’s a lot easier to let people see what they want to see. I am very good at pretending,” he replied, his eyes on the table. “Being a monster makes it easier.”

“Does it?”

He shrugged. “It’s all I have to work with for the time being.”

Her mouth went into a thin line, and she thought over what he said as he watched her. Trust wasn’t so easily earned but...he was drawing a line, making himself clear.

“I...did not react well the other night.” She said quietly. “Or this morning.”

“Neither did I,” Eris said with a shrug. “I think we can agree not to hold it against each other.”

She sighed and tilted her head back to gaze at the ceiling of their room. “I know you told me we have to behave in a certain way. But your tone...your tone. The sneer in it.” Iris said quietly, color bloomed on her cheeks, and she frowned. “I’ve heard that sneer my whole life. You tell me to expect different things from you then...then you spoke in that tone.”

Iris lowered her head to meet his gaze. “It makes me feel like everything you said and shared was a lie. It makes me feel foolish to believe you. You want me to wear a mask but...I can’t wear one where you’re belittling me in front of others. Even if it’s to have your father leave us alone.”

Eris’s eyes were on his fingers drumming gently on the table. “I...have had to wear this persona for a very very long time,” he said slowly and looked up at Iris. “You will need to give me some room...to work through these things.”

He swallowed then added tightly, “You are the first...opportunity I have ever been given to be different with a female. To openly be better. There wasn’t a relationship I had as important as this one with you.” He frowned. “No one that is supposed to be a...permanent partner. This is different for me too. I need patience from you.”

Iris’s eyes widened at that, and she looked away from him. Her heart was definitely the one thundering at his words so at odds with what his father had said to her.

You’re not important.

She looked up at him and found him watching her carefully. Her eyes darted to the slight color in his cheeks and then to his hands now folded on his crossed legs. He was speaking so calmly but Iris could taste his nervousness. It matched her own.

He had never been bluffing in his declarations.

“Then you want this to work, right?” She asked softly and licked her lips. “You want this to be real?”

“Do you?”

Iris blinked. Did she?

Her gaze dropped to her hands and she considered his question. No part of her going into this marriage had thought about whether it would work or not.

It was a fact. She was to be married to him. She would be his wife. Whatever happened after that, happened. Anything that came from her father would surely be nothing pleasant and she kept expecting the worst. But...Eris clearly didn’t think that way. He wanted it to be different. He had told her so from the beginning. And she had to be one of few people in his life who had ever heard such words from him.

He could be a nightmare for her. But he had endured so much from his father already. From this life. And he didn’t want to be. She had heard him say it.

I’m not trying to. Don’t you see that?

Her mind went back to the conversation with her mother-in-law.

“You two get to decide how real you want it to be.”

He could be more than just her husband. He could be her friend. But...he could also be more. And she had always wanted more. She wanted love. She wanted a...partner. She wanted a life with someone who would see her and care enough for her to protect her. Help her protect herself.

Swallowing, she looked up at him and the color on her cheeks deepened. “Yes. I do.”

And she watched his shoulder sag, just a fraction.

“Then we’re on the same page.”

Iris looked down at her hands for a heartbeat then met his gaze again. “You’re a very good liar,” she whispered. “It scares me to trust you.”

Eris was quiet for a long moment then very, very softly said, “It terrifies the fuck out of me to have you in my life. I don’t know how to...have whatever this is.”

“I don’t want to be a problem. I just want...to have something normal.” she said with a sigh, her eyes darting to him and then back to her hands.

“I don’t think normal will apply in this household,” he said with a soft snort. “But...I think we can figure out what will be normal for us.”

Silence fell between them again and Iris took a breath. A normal for them. A normal she...would be a part of. Iris licked her lips and then quietly said, “I’m sorry for the things I said in anger. It wasn’t fair to you. I was very upset and did not appreciate what was said to me or insinuated about me.”

Eris’s brow flickered up, a look of slight surprise on his face. “You apologize so easily.” he mused.

“Acknowledging when you’re wrong is the first step to getting through an issue.”

Eris pursed his lips and then slowly nodded. “And I am sorry for what I said and how things had to be. It wasn’t fair to you either. My father knew exactly what to say to push my buttons and I walked right into it.”

Iris nodded in return, her frown deepening, and asked carefully, “Why does he do that? What does he get out of it when you do so much for him? Doesn’t he...care for you?”

Eris chuckled dryly. “My father cares for no one but himself,” he said. “He likes to make people feel small when he feels threatened by them. He hasn’t earned anyone’s respect in years, so he keeps things under control by fear. And punishment.”

Iris blinked then said slowly, “At some point...people will not be scared anymore.”

“Yes,” Eris answered carefully. “Fear eventually grows tiresome. But my father has a very hard time accepting that change is coming, whether he likes it or not.”

“You’ve talked about change and pieces at play but never elaborate.”

Eris observed her. “We will need to work on our trust issues more before I can give you additional information.”

Iris nodded slowly. “That seems fair.” she mumbled, and Eris’s lips curved up and he pushed the breakfast tray towards her. Iris bit her lip and then sat up. “I have one more thing to say about this subject.”

“Just one?” Eris said with a chuckle and Iris shot him a look, picking up her bread once more.

“Your father was outrageous. It’s hard to pick one thing.” she said, her nose scrunched up in disdain. “I don’t know how you’ve tolerated him all these years.”

“Pretending I’m frolicking in a field of daisies whenever he opens his mouth usually gets me through.”

Iris snorted and rolled her eyes, earning her a smirk from him. “Frolicking with a pretty flower crown, are you?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replied with a serious nod. “If Elain has taught me one thing, it’s that you must wear a flower crown while frolicking or you’re simply not doing it right.”

A chuckle slipped from her lips and Iris for once, shyly met his eyes. When the corner of his mouth ticked up, she looked back down at her hands. She sighed and then looked back at him, her expression more solemn.

“He had no right to speak to me that way. He had no right to speak to you that way either.”

“I agree.”

“What I want to say is, I do not want to be spoken to like that ever again.” Iris said firmly. “I will pretend I’m your simpering little wife all you want but I will not tolerate the threats and language like that. Not in this home as well.”

“Neither will I. Which is why it won’t happen again.” Eris said and Iris stilled at his tone.

“What does that mean?”

He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve and then slowly looked at his wife. “I don’t like people overstepping their boundaries with me. He can take it out on me all he wants but you’re my wife. I will not let it happen again. You should still watch your tone with him the same way I do but my father has been made aware that I will not take him speaking to you that way again lightly.”

Iris blinked then flushed lightly, pleasantly surprised. “So...we play his game?” she asked quietly and he gave her a tight nod.

“We play his game,” he confirmed. “Outside of this room, we play by his expectations. It is a lie, a façade. Inside this room, whenever we are alone, and outside of the court...we can be as we wish. Just you and me. As long as this is what you want.”

Iris bit the inside of her cheek, watching him carefully. It wasn’t different from anything he had told her before but...she was truly listening now. She could play games. She had tried to play her father’s games, even when it cost her. Now she would have a partner.

Just you and me.

“You’re willing to be my friend first, then?” she asked quietly.

“Friendship was the first thing I offered you.” he replied simply.

And it hit Iris then — how incredibly similar they were. A fact Eris seemed to have figured out early on.

He was someone who needed a person just as badly as she did.

So she finally said, “Then this is what I want.”

The corner of Eris’s mouth ticked up. “That’s helpful. I won’t have to waste time redecorating.”

She rolled her eyes and then quietly observed him as he finally picked a helping of food. Standing up to his father was a bold move and Eris was careful about all the moves he made. To do it because of her...

She waited until he had a few bites of food then carefully asked, “How did your father take it when you spoke to him about me?”

Eris paused for a moment then slowly replied, “We’ll see in a few days.”

Iris bit her lip, her brows furrowed, knowing what he meant. It would either pass or...Eris would pay for it.

Her face fell as guilt washed over her and Eris straightened.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” she immediately said and he furrowed his brows.

“We already stated our apologies.”

She shook her head. “If he decides he doesn’t like what you said because of me —” she started and pushed the tray away, feeling slightly nauseated. “I don’t want him to — if he decides to —”

But Eris held up a hand. “You don’t have to worry about that. I can handle my father. His choices are his own and he is the only one responsible for them.”

Iris bit her lip, glancing at him and then down at her lap. Her mouth wouldn’t cost just her now. Eris would be dragged into it by his father if she stepped out of line. He had thought about what his father would do to her if Eris didn’t behave accordingly but Iris hadn’t even considered what Beron would do to Eris because of her.

“I’ll watch myself better now.” she promised quietly. “I don’t want to give him any other reasons to hurt you.”

Eris stared at her, his expression unreadable but she saw the bob of his throat as he swallowed then nodded.

“I see we’ve reached an understanding then.” he said quietly and Iris nodded in return.

“We’ve reached an understanding.”

A sense of relief washed over the room, any tension between them easing. Iris stole a chance at him to find him watching her, his lips slightly pursed.

“What?”

He shook his head and then cleared his throat. “Now that we’re on the same page, I won’t have to hear your whining.”

Iris squinted at him but her expression softened when she saw the teasing look he gave her.

“You’re annoying.”

“You’re mean.”

“I haven’t slit your throat yet so how mean am I, really?” she said and gave him a pointed look.

Eris smirked and Iris knew whatever came out of his mouth next would be obnoxious.

“You must really have a thing for my neck, you constantly want to get your hands on it.”

“To choke the life out of you.”

“Don’t tease me, I’ll start moaning.”

Very slowly and without breaking eye contact, Iris flipped him off, earning her a soft chuckle.

“We’ll see what good that attitude of yours will do you once we start training.” he said, giving her an amused look.

“And when will we do that?” she asked, sitting up straighter.

“As soon as you’d like, wife.” he said with a lazy smirk. “I look forward to seeing what you’re made of.”

Iris sat back and met his gaze with a challenging look of her own. “And I look forward to giving you the ass-kicking you deserve, husband.”

[readychilledwine]

Reblogging as I write part two for @sjmvillainweek 🥰

A Debt Paid in Full

Summary - Your father shouldn't have sent his prettiest daughter after refusing to pay his Tithe

Warnings - this is unhinged and kind of dark, virgin reader, younger female/older male, manipulation, smut, beron is... surprisingly giving and slightly charming but arrogant. Oral, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding Kink, beron

A/N - You all asked for it. Please don't ask for more. I feel dirty 🤣

The Whore Home Masterlist

“Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?” Being circled by the High Lord of Autumn had to have been the scariest thing you had ever experienced. “Is that why Daddy sent you? Does he think a nice pair of tits will buy him time to pay his tithe?”

“No, my lord,” yes, you thought instantly. “He is just busy over looking the land and farms. He apologizes for sending a female in his place, but you know how we are when it comes to business.”

Beron seemed to smile as he studied you again. “I imagine you already know you are only useful for certain,” he paused, looking over your frame again, a true smile forming at what he saw, “activities.”

“My father taught me my place, yes.”

“How old are you?”

“302, my lord.”

“And unmarried?” He tisked slightly. “And unpresented to the court as an available female?” He circled you again, a new dangerous light gleaming in those eyes. “Why?”

You took a deep breath. “My mother needed me home to help with my younger siblings, and now that they no longer require me, I am a spinster per our standards, my lord. I am not a viable option for marriage.”

“But you are for fucking. Or for a second wife. A pretty little toy to keep around when someone's lady refused to come warm their bed.”

“Ah, a second choice. How very desirable. I will stay unwed. Be the village witch.” The statement was out before you could stop it. Beron paused midwalk, looking at you with those dark eyes and his brows raised. “I apologize.”

“You are lucky you are very, very beautiful.” A hand went to your light red hair. “Your spring court mother did you quite the favor. Her fair blonde hair mixed with red. You are a unique treasure.”

An odd feeling set into your stomach at his constant compliments, at his hand twirling your hair, his body so close to yours you could feel the fire that ran within him.

The Autumn Lord was by no means an ugly male. He had produced 7 beautiful sons, each one resembling him but with their mother's eyes and hair. He was fit, body lined and cut with muscle you could make out under his fine tailored clothing. 

“I believe you and I could reach a compromise, y/n. Regarding your father's discretion.” The sinking feeling of what he meant hit you as a hand trailed your lower back. “Your father knows I collect beautiful things, and you, little fox, are a beautiful thing.”

“Are you attempting to seduce me, my lord?”

“Is it an attempt when I can smell it clearly is working?” Beron walked you back to the wall, a hand resting on your hip and the other going behind your head to protect you from impact. “Is this what females dream of? A fae lord to whisk them away from their troubles, shower them in luxurious gifts and clothing?”

“I just dreamed of being taken away. The rest did not matter.” Beron smirked at the words, something that should have made your skin recoil but instead caused heat to settle between your legs. 

“Let's make a bargain, little fox. You stay with me, be my little second wife, and your family never pays a tithe again.”

Your eyes widened at the offer. It was a sacrifice you could make. What was your life in exchange for the safety of your family with your father's choice to ignore the tithe collection. Beron was handsome, the Forest House was beautiful, but he was cruel. “I want to be treated well.”

Beron hummed. “You will be, if you stay in line. Keep that pretty mouth in check. I was kind today. I will not always tolerate your attitude, though.”

The hand resting on your hip began to trail to the curve of your ass, the hand previously resting behind your head now, allowing him to lean into you and cage you into his body and the wall. “How soon?”

“Tonight. I have never been known to be a male with patience when I want something.”

“Why marriage? Why not just my maidenhood?” The question seemed to spark something in him, eyes growing darker and the scent of arousal being to consume every breath. 

“Why would I allow something so pretty to slip between my fingers? Especially when I didn't know I would be the one to ruin her? Yes or no. My tolerance for your questions is wearing thin and I can easily just drop you off as I have my eldest arrest your father.” 

What was your life, in exchange for the safety of theirs? “Yes.” 

That one word was all it took for him to pounce. Lips finding yours and dominating a heated kiss. He winnowed you from the room, taking you to what must have been his personal suite and walked you back to the bed. His hands roamed everywhere before picking you up and placing you on the softest bed you had ever dreamed of. “How attached to your dress are you?” The kisses moved to your jawline as he awaited his answer. 

“I'm not.”

“Good. I will give you a thousand more.”He burned every thread from your body, groaning at the newly exposed skin, so soft and untouched. Untested and unexplored. “I think your father knew I'd be weak for you. Your younger sisters had been presented to my court and married off, yet here you are. Hidden away because you were his most precious gem.” 

All you could do was whimper as soft thumbs ran over your nipples. Pinching them lightly. His lips ran to your neck, feeling like a trail of fire as they did. Every inch of you became so sensitive that you broke out in goosebumps. He stopped at a spot that made your back arch, sucking the skin there until you were sure you would bruise before continuing his path down. 

When he finally reached your breasts, he stopped temporarily, scooting you up the pillows a bit more before removing his crown and placing it on head. “Be a good pet and hold this for me.” You couldn't help but to laugh, but that quickly turned into another moan. “So responsive.” The praise quickly shot to your core just as a hand did, running along your soaked folds with an arrogant laugh. 

Every kiss, every lick, every gentle touch on your core had you mewling for him, back arching as you whined. When one finger pushed in and curled up, hitting a spot in you that you would have never found before immediately pulling it back out . “And such pretty noises.” You couldn't help but grip the sheets, praying to any God who would listen as his kisses continued lower until he settled between your legs. 

“Perfect. Just absolutely perfect.” Beron was oddly gentle, kissing your thigh. You could have died when he first licked at your core, growling as he did and nudging that precious bundle of nerves. 

“Beron,” you whispered almost in warning, fingers gripping the sheets tighter. 

“Ssh, relax.” He continued to motion again, setting your nerves a light and making you cry out at the foreign feeling. He continues then, slow methodical licks. Watching from lust filled hooded eyes as your back arched, as your mouth fell open, as your nails dug so deeply into his mattress your knuckles turned white. 

When his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking light as his tongue pressed into it, you saw stars. Then his fingers, his damned fingers pushed back inside of you, stretching you out and preparing you for him. It was all too much, yet not enough. He used his free hand to pin your hips down, leaving you with no escape from his mouth. 

Your stomach started to feel tight, and your mind became hazy, core clenching at the now two fingers pushing in and out, scissoring and dancing on the sensitive spot you have only read about in novels. You went barreling over the edge quickly, feeling him smirk on your core as you screamed for him. He pulled his mouth away, keeping his fingers deep inside of you, working you open for him. 

You had not even noticed him remove his clothing using magic, but he was bare before you. Scars littered his muscled chest and shoulders. They danced along his back and ribs. They were a reminder of his cruelty born in a place of hatred for his own father, his own upbringing. But for some reason, now of that matter, as he kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “Give me one more, y/n. Cum on my fingers before you get my cock.” 

He increased his rhythm, holding your head up to keep that golden crown resting on your head. His experience was quick to bring you over the edge again, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he did. 

He also kept your eyes on him as he used your slick to lubricate his cock, kept your eyes on him as he centered himself. And he kept your eyes on him as he pushed in, watching your mouth fall open again as the burn from being so full took over. Watching in sadistic glee as you whined and moaned. He barely gave you time to adjust, letting go of the back of your head in favor of pounding into you over and over. 

Now you truly could have died. You could have died with a smile growing on your face as he pulled out before forcing you to take all of him back in, making the pain quickly turn into a burning need as the scent of sex and sweat filled the air. He moved your legs, placing one over each shoulder and fucking so deep into you that you couldn't tell where you ended and he began. “So tight, pet.” His voice was breathy as his head fell back in pleasure. “Such a perfect cunt.” 

His thrusts became harder as he watched your face, trying to figure out what you liked. And a sudden gasp shifting to a wail of pleasure told him exactly what it was. Over and over, he hit that spot inside of you, the one he had found earlier with his fingers. His eyes almost seemed to roll as you grew tighter, clenching and twitching around him, swallowing him whole.

“Perhaps I should breed you as well. Make sure this pretty pussy stays mine.” Your body responded before you verbally could, gripping him higher and thighs beginning to shake. “You like that, don't you? Like the idea of being used, being bred. Fuck you're perfect. So fucking perfect.” His fingers found your clit again, massaging the swollen bundle of nerves as he buried himself into you. 

Completion found you again, ripping you so deep into pleasure as you milked his cock that you couldn't help but to fall into a silent scream. Beron fell over after you, heat passing through the room as he did and intensifying everything. He allowed your legs to fall from his shoulders. Catching himself on his forearms above you, he sat and watched as you came down from the high. He studied you like a new toy, plotting and planning what he would do to you. “Yes,” he spoke more to himself than you. “You will be quite fun to keep.”

Beron Smut Taglist:

@secret-third-thing

[dee-writes-angst]

DAFFODILS (Chapter One)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY The Spring Court has gone to shit, and while you would normally be able to tolerate it, the new discovery that you were pregnant pushes you to the gates of The Autumn Court and unknowingly into Eris' arms.

CONTENT WARNINGS pregnancy, Eris being a slight douche (you know how it is yall), violence (reader is kicked in the stomach), and mentions of Tampon (Tamlin).

AUTHORS NOTE who's excited for the kick-off of yet another series? I am! Of course, I had to start an Eris series, I love him too much not to! Strap in, darlings, I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.

SERIES MASTERLIST

The once vibrant Spring court had gone to shit, a shadow of its former glory. Tamlin, the once revered and compassionate High Lord, had vanished, abandoning his people to suffer in the decay his negligence had allowed to fester.

Amid the desolation, there were attempts to salvage what remained of the Spring Court. Lucien's name surfaced as one who strove to preserve our home. I recall his desperate sacrifice on Calanmai, offering himself to Ianthe in a futile bid to rescue us. He still occasionally visits, perhaps clinging to a hope that he might stumble upon signs of revival, our High Lord restored to his former benevolence. Yet each return only reinforces the stark reality of our decline, leaving him unsurprised by the sight of our dwindling realm.

And now, here I stand, just beyond the borders of the Autumn Court, clad in nothing but the ragged remnants of my escape, imploring the impassive sentries to grant me sanctuary within their walls. They offer no response, their stoic countenances unmoved as I plead and weep at their feet.

In my disheveled state, I must present a pitiful sight—my attire threadbare and stained, my once-glamorous countenance marred by streaks of dirt and smudged cosmetics, my limbs adorned with bruises like macabre adornments.

As I teeter on the brink of desperation, a voice cuts through the stillness, emerging from the depths of the forest to my right. The guards snap to attention at its sound, their posture stiffening even further, if such a thing were possible, in deference to its commanding presence.

"What is the meaning of this?" The voice, smooth as silk and sharp as a blade, belonged to a man with cascading locks of fiery hair, who strode forth from the underbrush with an air of regal authority.

Gods, he was a vision to behold. Despite the earthy stains marring his attire and the tousled state of his tunic sleeves, he exuded an otherworldly allure.

"A mere denizen of the Spring Court, attempting to beg her way into our domain, my lord," one of the guards grumbled, offering a curt bow before callously nudging me aside with his boot. I winced as the blow landed squarely in my stomach.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you are doing, you imbecile!" The fiery-haired man's voice dripped with disdain as he strode forward, confronting the offending guard with palpable fury. "Can you not discern her condition, you fool? She carries life within her."

My heart lurched as I instinctively cradled my abdomen, a protective gesture born of maternal instinct. Though every fiber of my being yearned to retaliate against the guard's callousness, I forced myself to breathe deeply, refusing to succumb to the animalistic urges that society expected of Spring Court members in these desperate times.

"Are you alright?" the man inquired, his amber eyes ablaze with a captivating mix of concern and authority, their gaze so intense that it stole the very air from my lungs.

"I'm… I'm fine," I managed to utter, brushing aside the tangled strands of hair obscuring my face and inhaling deeply to steady my frayed nerves.

"I must apologize for the behavior of my soldier. Rest assured, appropriate measures will be taken, my lady," the man assured me, his smile radiant as he inclined his head with graceful deference. His charm nearly brought a wry laugh to my lips.

"No need for such formalities," I replied weakly, the weight of my displaced status as a refugee gnawing at my throat like a persistent ache. But I steeled myself with the thought of my unborn child, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. "I am no longer a lady—well, not in the traditional sense, anyway."

"How so?" the man persisted, his expression a blend of curiosity and genuine concern, prompting me to draw my arms tighter around myself.

"I find it quite audacious for someone whose name I don't even know to ask such personal questions," I retorted, feigning a hint of indignation that rang hollow even to my own ears.

"Fair point," he conceded with a charming grin, though his adherence to formality still grated on my nerves. "Allow me to rectify that oversight. My name is Eris. Eris Vanserra, Heir to the Autumn Court," he declared, and I felt a strange mixture of relief and weariness wash over me at his introduction.

Eris. Lucien had spoken sparingly of his older brother during his time in the Spring Court, but whenever he did, a profound sense of affection tinged with melancholy colored his words. I shook myself from my reverie, extending a hand in a gesture of polite acknowledgement as I reciprocated with my own name. Eris repeated my name softly, testing it on his tongue, and my heart twinged at the striking resemblance in mannerism between him and Lucien, one so distant yet familiar, the other painfully close.

"Now," Eris began, his hands making a smooth, sweeping gesture that hinted at his readiness to delve deeper into the matter at hand, "what brings you to the borders of the Autumn Court, my lady?"

"The Spring Court is…" My voice faltered, and I let out a weary sigh, my hand instinctively resting on my still-flat stomach for comfort.

"It's gone to shit," he finished for me, his smirk sharp but not unkind.

"Well, I wouldn't have phrased it quite so bluntly, but yes," I responded, my fingers tracing small circles over my abdomen. "That place and its ruler are no fit environment for a child. Considering the proximity of your court, I was hoping I might find a new beginning here."

"What about the father?" Eris inquired, one eyebrow—a mirror image of Lucien's—arching skeptically.

I clear my throat awkwardly and look at my well-worn shoes. How does one tell the Heir to the Autumn Court that they are pregnant with his youngest brother's babe? How does one also explain how he is mated to another female, that they knew as soon as that brother found out about said babe, he would give up all hope to find his true mate in order to be there for his child?

"Not in the picture," I manage to say, my voice faltering slightly as I reach up to scratch the back of my neck, a gesture betraying my discomfort.

Eris hums, a low, thoughtful sound that vibrates with suspicion, his striking eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes my uneasy demeanor. The weight of his gaze feels like it could peel back the layers of my hastily constructed defenses, compelling me to confront truths I'd rather leave unspoken. Eris's scrutinizing gaze doesn't waver, and the silence stretches taut between us like a bowstring. "Not in the picture," he echoes thoughtfully, each word heavy with the promise of unasked questions.

I nod, feeling the weight of the moment settling around us. The air in the forest seems to hold its breath, the usual whispers of leaves and distant calls of woodland creatures falling into a hushed reverence. "And you must understand, my lord, that my child is my utmost priority," I assert with unwavering resolve, emphasizing his title with a hint of disdain, as if challenging the very foundations of our unequal stations.

The guards stationed behind me draw in sharp, anticipatory breaths, seemingly prepared for their lord to mete out swift retribution for my boldness. I steel myself against the expected blow, a silent rehearsal of defiance.

Yet, the expected strike does not materialize. Instead, Eris regards me with what could only be described as admiration. His gaze, intense and calculating, appraises me not as a threat, but as a formidable presence in my own right.

"Well, little fox," he begins, his voice carrying a playful undertone that belies the depth of his contemplation. He strokes his chin thoughtfully, his fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as if to physically underline his ponderings. "It appears you've presented quite the compelling argument for yourself here."

The use of "little fox" — a term perhaps meant to denote cunning and resilience — sparks a flicker of amusement within me, mixed with a surge of cautious optimism. His demeanor suggests a blend of challenge and respect, hinting at a dynamic that could evolve beyond mere formalities or supplications. This man before me is not just the heir to a court; he is a strategist weighing his next move.

"You seek shelter for yourself and the babe?" Eris inquires with a hint of slyness, as if to subtly test my resolve, though it's a point I've already made abundantly clear.

"Indeed," I retort sharply, refusing to waver under the weight of his penetrating gaze.

"Then shelter you shall have," he declares, pivoting on his heel to fix the guards with a stern glare. "You will allow her passage," he commands, his tone uncompromising. The guards, obedient to their lord's decree, quickly acquiesce, parting to allow me entry with a mere flick of Eris's wrist.

The heady scent of spices and autumnal freshness assaults my senses as I approach the threshold, beckoning me forward with its tantalizing allure. It's as if the very essence of this court implores me to embrace my true purpose, to seize control of my destiny without hesitation. The boldness of it all catches me off guard, stirring a sense of rebellion that courses through my veins like wildfire.

Pausing at the threshold, I find myself suspended between the tranquility of the wilderness behind me and the vibrant chaos of the court ahead. I hesitate, grappling with the weight of the choices that lie before me.

Eris slows his stride beside me, as if attuned to my uncertainty, and extends his arm—an offering both courteous and suggestive. His demeanor exudes confidence and assurance, as if he expects me to surrender to his lead without question.

But I refuse to yield to the expectations of courtly decorum. Chin held high, I meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, ignoring the disheveled state of my attire as I assert my independence. My feet remain firmly planted, refusing to advance until I am ready, on my own terms.

Eris's arm lingers in the air for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at my defiance. His amber eyes search mine, silently probing, yet beneath the scrutiny, I detect a glimmer of curiosity and… respect.

"I am quite capable of managing on my own," I declare, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within me.

His expression softens, and he nods, gracefully retracting his arm. "As you wish," he concedes, gesturing for me to take the lead as we finally step through the threshold together.

The walk through the streets of Autumn was like stepping into a painting come to life. The cobblestone pathways wound gracefully between quaint buildings adorned with intricate carvings and vibrant splashes of ivy. Overhead, colorful banners fluttered in the gentle breeze, their designs depicting scenes of seasonal splendor and courtly festivities.

Stands and stalls lined the streets, each one a miniature wonderland of treasures waiting to be discovered. From intricately woven tapestries to gleaming trinkets and baubles, the offerings were as diverse as they were captivating. Merchants called out to passersby in melodious voices, their wares displayed with care and pride.

The smells that wafted through the air were a symphony of sensory delights. Spices mingled with the scent of freshly baked bread, their fragrances intermingling in a tantalizing dance that made my mouth water. Roasted chestnuts crackled and popped over open fires, their warm, nutty aroma floating on the breeze alongside the sweet perfume of ripe fruit and fragrant flowers.

Eris's sudden change in direction pulled me from my reverie, my gaze following his lead as we approached a magnificent structure nestled within the heart of the Autumn Court. The Forest House loomed before us, its grandeur and mystique commanding attention as we drew nearer.

Surrounded by a wrought iron gate, the house stood as a bastion of elegance amidst the bustling streets. Tall trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches reaching out to embrace the ancient structure with a sense of reverence. Vines climbed the walls, their verdant tendrils weaving intricate patterns against the weathered stone.

The sight of the Forest House sent a shiver down my spine, a visceral reaction to the aura of power and mystery that seemed to emanate from its very core. It was as if the house held secrets untold, whispering tales of bygone days and forgotten legends to those who dared to listen.

"Wait!" I called out, the urgency in my voice halting Eris in his tracks. His steps faltered, and he turned to face me, a glint of amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. The sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead cast dappled shadows across his features, lending an air of intrigue to his already enigmatic presence.

"Yes?" he inquired, his voice smooth and tinged with playful curiosity, his smirk hinting at secrets hidden just beneath the surface.

"What's going to happen to me? Where will I stay?" I blurted out, the fierce confidence I had summoned earlier dissipating like morning mist in the face of uncertainty. Nervously, I began to pick at my nails, the weight of the unknown pressing down upon me like a heavy cloak.

Eris regarded me with a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he had anticipated my question long before I had voiced it. "You will stay with me, of course," he replied simply, his voice carrying an air of nonchalance that belied the gravity of his words. There was a subtle confidence in his demeanor, a quiet assurance that spoke of his authority within the court.

I recoiled at his casual response, a surge of apprehension coursing through me. "But what about Beron? Won't he object to having a… a lowborn in his household?" I ventured cautiously, the weight of his father's disapproval looming like a specter in the back of my mind.

"Nonsense," Eris scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest in a dismissive gesture. "You are now a member of this court, and given your condition," he added with a subtle nod towards my abdomen, "it is only fitting that you reside in more suitable accommodations." His words were tinged with a hint of defiance, a silent challenge to anyone who would dare question his authority.

Despite his reassurances, doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind, uncertainty clouding my thoughts like a thick fog. "Absolutely not!" I protested vehemently, a surge of protectiveness coursing through me as I instinctively placed a hand over my stomach, as if to shield my unborn child from the absurdity of Eris's suggestion. "I refuse to stay in your chambers, Eris. It's… it's utterly preposterous."

Eris's eyebrow lifted slightly, his gaze holding a hint of amusement mixed with something darker. "Stubborn, aren't we?" he remarked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "But if you prefer to sleep on the streets, far be it from me to stand in your way."

His words, though seemingly casual, carried a sharp edge that hinted at the depth of his cunning. It was a subtle reminder of his position of power, a reminder that I was at his mercy whether I liked it or not.

I bristled at his thinly veiled threat, my jaw clenching as I met his gaze with a glare of my own. "You wouldn't dare," I challenged, though a flicker of uncertainty danced behind my eyes.

Eris's smirk widened, the glint in his amber eyes turning predatory. "Try me," he replied, his tone dripping with promise and menace in equal measure.

With a frustrated huff, I reluctantly relented, realizing that I was in no position to defy him. "Fine," I conceded through gritted teeth, my hand slipping from my stomach to clench into a fist at my side. "But don't expect me to thank you for it."

Eris's smirk softened into a smirk, his gaze lingering on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Who said anything about gratitude?" he mused, his voice low and husky. "I'm merely extending a courtesy to a fellow refugee."

His words were laced with sarcasm, a reminder that his generosity came with strings attached. It was a stark contrast to the charming facade he wore, a glimpse of the ruthlessness that lay beneath.

I swallowed hard, a bitter taste rising in the back of my throat as I followed him towards the Forest House. It was clear that my time in the Autumn Court would be far from easy, but as I glanced back at the crumbling ruins of the Spring Court behind me, I knew that I had no other choice.

As we reached the grand doors of the Forest House, Eris turned to me with a smirk. "Welcome to your new home, little fox," he remarked, his tone dripping with irony. "Try not to get too comfortable."

My brows furrowed at his words, suspicion creeping into my mind. "What's the catch?" I asked warily, narrowing my eyes at him.

Eris chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Though I do have one condition," he said, his smirk widening into a grin.

"And what is that?" I asked, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

"You must walk with me once a day for the duration of your stay," Eris declared, his tone teasing yet firm.

My jaw dropped in disbelief. "You're joking," I exclaimed, disbelief evident in my voice.

Eris's grin widened, his amber eyes dancing with amusement. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he retorted, his tone challenging.

I narrowed my eyes at him, a surge of defiance rising within me. "This is ridiculous," I protested, shaking my head in disbelief. "I won't be your captive audience."

Eris's expression softened, a hint of something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes. "It's not about being captive," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Consider it… a chance to explore the court, to clear your mind. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I could use the company."

I bristled at his suggestion, my pride warring with my better judgment. "And if I refuse?" I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest.

Eris's smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Then you'll miss out on some truly breathtaking views," he replied, his tone teasing yet earnest.

I sighed in frustration, realizing that I was fighting a losing battle. "Fine," I relented, though the words tasted like ash on my tongue. "But don't expect me to enjoy it."

Eris's grin widened into a smirk, his eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, I have a feeling you'll come to enjoy it more than you think," he remarked cryptically, before turning to lead the way into the Forest House.

As Eris escorted me to the grand Forest House, his steps were measured, exuding an air of regal confidence that was unmistakably his. His fiery locks seemed to dance with each movement, and his amber eyes held a glint of mischief, hinting at the cunning that lay beneath his charming exterior.

Upon entering my chambers, Eris's gaze swept over the room with a critical eye, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I trust the accommodations meet with your approval, my lady?" he inquired, his voice smooth as honey but tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

I nodded, unable to suppress a smirk of my own at his thinly veiled jest. "They're quite lovely, thank you," I replied, matching his playful tone with one of my own.

Eris's smirk widened into a grin, his amusement evident in the curve of his lips. "Excellent," he remarked, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to survey the room once more.

As I explored my new surroundings, I couldn't help but notice Eris's watchful gaze following my every move. It was as if he were sizing me up, gauging my reactions to the opulence that surrounded us. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, a depth of character hidden behind his charming facade.

Spotting the single daffodil on the table near the window, I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the sight. It was a quintessentially Eris gesture—playful yet meaningful, a subtle reminder of our earlier exchange. I picked up the note beside it, the elegant script a testament to Eris's attention to detail.

"I will be seeing you real soon, little fox. Wouldn't want you slacking off on our daily walks now, would we?" the note read, the teasing tone perfectly in line with Eris's mischievous nature. I couldn't help but smile at his audacity, the unspoken challenge sparking a flicker of excitement within me.

Setting the note back down, I turned to find Eris watching me with a knowing smirk, his amber eyes alight with amusement. "I take it you approve of my choice of decor?" he quipped, the smirk widening into a grin as he met my gaze.

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to suppress a laugh at his antics. "It's certainly… unique," I replied, the hint of sarcasm in my tone mirroring his own.

Eris chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I'm glad to hear it," he replied, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to hide the flush that crept across his cheeks.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd

[olenvasynyt]

This is more of a rant than an actual question but I need Lucien to KNOW he is not Beron's son. I will never be able to reallistically believe he is as smart and clever as SJM has hinted at if he DOESN'T know! Plus, if Lucien is Helion's Heir he'd have to have SOME day court powers and he'd probably had to hide them in Autumn and how would he do that if he didn't know he was helion's son/not Beron's son?? I've never bought the theory that eris and his mother "binded" his powers, i truly think he's hiding them on purpose just like Aelin buried her fire magic so deep inside her when she was afraid of it

I feel like he knows he's a bastard, actually! I think there's a lot of hints to it. When we see this thoughts in ACOWAR we see him think about his mother and that he kept some things about her a secret because they were personal and irrelevant.

"I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court." And a whole lot of nothing. He'd told the shadowsinger all he knew--of his surviving brothers, of his father. His mother...he'd kept some details, irrelevant and utterly personal, to himself.

His might be that he knows LoA had an affair, but it could also just be about the abuse she recieves from Beron. But we later discover secrets his mother has been keeping. And I also think "a whole lot of nothing" is interesting to say too, because saying he's the seventh son to Beron is "a whole lot of nothing".

And we also understand how the High Fae magic develops in their youth because of Mor. He probably had his Day Court powers develop as his Autumn Court powered developed, but LoA and Eris might have told him to suppress it.

I don't think he has had the room to explore his Day Court powers. He keeps a lot of things suppressed. And when he breaks free from Hybern's spell at the end of ACOMAF to get to Elain, that was a sudden, in the moment thing fueled by his anger and the mating bond. We don't know his thoughts and feelings about that moment and how he was able to free himself, so it's hard to say.

And I think Lucien is smart enough to figure out that Beron mistreating him might be for a deeper reason. And he does have darker skin than his brothers. Yes, that's technically a retcon because there's signs that this wasn't what SJM intended in ACOTAR because he's decribed to look like Beron UTM, but anyways lmao.

I don't think he knows he's Helion's true son though, mostly because SJM will want the dramatic reveal! He could fully think that LoA had an affair with a random Day Court male. I do have theories that it could be possible Lucien knows Helion is his father based on how the High Lord's powers transfer to the next person and how the heir has to hide their powers--we see this with Rhys and Tamlin.

I feel like there could be a lot of signs that he knows he's a bastard, but think SJM has retconned a lot of stuff surrounding Lucien and his true heritage so it's hard to come up with actual theories. She said that she didn't go into Lucien's full backstory until ACOMAF, so honestly, a lot of potential "hints" in ACOTAR are a bit irrelevant now. But I'm also pretty cynical of SJM tbh lmao and I enjoy coming up with headcanons to fix the holes she left.

[thewulf]

Hi my love,

I’ve recently stumbled upon your ACOTAR fics, and I absolutely love the mini verses you’re creating, especially Rhys’ fic Hidden Away! I’ve seen you write up some requests, and if you are open to it, I would love to submit my own.

I know there aren’t many Eris fics out there, especially ones that dive deeper into his unexplored character, so I was wondering if you could write one?

In my head, Eris is the same stoic, narcissistic male we meet in the books. His last dispute with the Night Court leave Rhys ordering Azriel to spy on him and his affairs.

Nothing seems out of place, but then Azriel and his shadows pick up on a few things: Beron’s maltreatment, Eris’ relationship with his brothers, moments of vulnerability with the Lady of Autumn…but perhaps the biggest surprise is Eris’ late disappearances that are seemingly untraceable.

One day, Eris gets sloppy though, so Azriel is easily able to track him. Maybe the IC follows along, thinking he’s planning something. What they don’t realize is that Eris is hiding away his mate—pregnant mate, who has just gone into labor.

Between fearing for his mate and child and the Night Court’s sudden appearance, Eris’ emotions flare. And maybe, this is when Rhys offers him a Bargain that he will aid him in disposing of Beron and protect his family in exchange for his allegiance.

You are free to amend at your will in case you do decide to write it.

Thank you so much in advance for all the wonderful pieces you’re producing on here♥️

Shut up this request is SO good!! You guys are literally so freaking creative I'm blown awayyy!

YES! I can absolutely write this. Eris gives Rhysand from the first ACOTAR book. Putting on a front to look like an ass because he HAS to. He has no other choice or it's his life on the line. We'll make reader the hidden away mate. I kinda want her to be hiding in another court Day or Dawn maybe :) I'm leaning towards Dawn because we don't know much about it and Thesan.

This is going to be a long one (i know myself) so give me a few days to get this one out!

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows Part 6

Eris x AzrielsSister!Reader

Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but after a bargain is made between them, things begin heating up.

CW: Amarantha

Series Masterlist

Part 5 || Part 7

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Year 4

"That mask makes you look so mysterious," Mor teased you as you got ready.

Amarantha was throwing a masquerade ball Under the Mountain. Rhys had no choice but to make an appearance, and you had insisted that you go with him. You didn't want him to be alone. Besides, he rarely let you go on dangerous missions. He usually left those to Azriel.

The only thing you were dreading was facing Eris Vanserra. While you knew he was invited, you weren't sure if he would attend. It had been two months since you saw him in the Summer Court. You hadn't felt that thread in your chest since.

This time, you wore a more classy gown than the one you had dressed in for the Autumn ball. It was still black, and it dipped low enough to reveal your cleavage. The skirt flowed out, reaching you ankles. You also wore sparkly, black heels.

Mor had curled your hair and left it loose over your shoulders. She'd done your makeup as well, smearing red lipstick on your lips. Plus, a black masquerade mask.

"The males will be all over you," Mor continued, grinning at you.

"I don't want any of them," you told her, rolling your eyes.

"A female, perhaps?" she grinned.

"Oh, hush," you pouted, glaring at her. She just laughed.

"Well, come on, Y/N," she insisted, hauling herself to her feet. "Rhys is waiting."

You had kept Rhys waiting for twenty minutes, now. But he was well aware you always took your time getting ready.

"Look who's finally ready," Cassian taunted as you and Mor finally emerged from your bedroom.

"You would understand if you put effort into your own appearance," Mor shot at him.

"It was good enough for you when we were seventeen," he reminded her. She stuck her tongue out at him.

Rhys was standing in the foyer, his hands in his pockets. He donned a black suit with a black undershirt. The jacket and pants were embroidered with stars.

"Are you ready, milady?" Rhys joked with a smile.

"I am," you confirmed with a nod.

"You look beautiful," he complimented.

"Thank you," you curtsied.

He bowed, kissing your hand, before rising again. You couldn't help but grin. Your brothers had always treated you like a princess, despite the fact that you were a bastard-born nobody. They made you feel like you were special.

Within a second, he winnowed the two of you away. You clutched onto him, your shadows surrounding you.

When the both of you had materialized, you were in a place so similar to the Hewn City.

You had heard the rumors that Amarantha had modeled this place after the Court of Nightmares. It seemed you were in a throne room, one almost identical to the one Rhys ruled in.

The room was crowded with High Fae and Lesser Fae alike, all in their finest clothes, wearing masks.

Your shadows whispered to you, warning you to be careful. You brushed them off.

You spotted Amarantha on her large throne, wearing a crimson dress that matched her long hair. Her lips were twisted in a smirk as she watched the crowd.

"I have business to attend to," Rhys said smoothly. "Stay safe. Don't wander off. Reach out to me if you need anything."

With that, he disappeared into the shadows. You went off by yourself, glancing around as you did so.

You strolled over to the refreshments, pouring yourself a glass of red wine. Most of the Fae around you were already drunk and stumbling around.

As you took a sip, you felt that abandoned string in your chest go taut. You were well aware that Eris had approached before your shadows told you.

"Mate," they whispered to you.

"I didn't take you for a red girl," you heard him muse.

"What?" you demanded, whirling on him with narrowed eyes.

"Your wine," he clarified with a raised brow. You glanced at the red wine in your hand, then at him.

He wore a golden undershirt, embroidered with autumn leaves. Over that, he had an emerald jacket and brown trousers. His short hair was combed neatly. And his face was adorned with a golden mask.

"You don't know anything about me," you mumbled, swirling your wine in the glass.

"It was just an assumption."

"Listen, if you want nothing to do with me, why don't you leave me alone?" you questioned, glaring up at him.

"Maybe I quite enjoy pissing you off," he grinned. You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Maybe you're just a prick," you corrected.

"Both can be true," he mused.

You wanted to snap--wanted to piss him off right back. But the sound fingers snapping distracted you.

Amarantha was situated on the platform, accompanied by all seven High Lords, each of them holding glasses of wine. Rhys had his gaze fixed on her, nothing but pure hatred in his eyes.

"I'd like to offer an apology to the youngest Vanserra," Amarantha crooned.

It had been said that this ball was her apology for carving Lucien Vanserra's eye out.

"We shall toast to him!" she commanded, raising her glass. The High Lords raised theirs as well before drinking deeply.

But you could tell that something had gone wrong the moment you saw Rhys's face.

The fierce power that normally radiated from the High Lords had diminished significantly. The night that glowed around Rhys was almost entirely gone.

Amarantha's red lips formed a grin as she gleamed with power that had not been there before.

Commotion broke out all through the room. Every single one of the High Lords seemed to realize that they had been robbed of their magic.

You met Rhys's eyes, but he shot you a warning look. One that told you to stay where you were.

Eris was already shoving through the crowd, likely to get to his father, but you didn't budge. You trusted Rhys.

"Welcome to my court," Amarantha smirked. "I am your Queen. Don't bother trying to leave."

Your eyes went wide, your mind going to your family. Azriel, Cassian, Mor, and Amren. What would you do without them?

Chaos broke loose, Fae shoving through the crowd. You grunted as you were shoved to the side. You clutched onto the table, holding yourself steady as everyone went wild.

"And, you, dear Tamlin--" Amarantha practically purred, dragging a finger down his chest. "Shall be my King."

Tamlin snarled, shoving her away from him. She stumbled just slightly, but quickly got her bearings.

"I would sooner take a human to my bed--I would sooner marry a human than touch you," Tamlin shot at her. "Even your sister preferred a human's company to yours. She chose Jurian over you."

Everyone in the room seemed to halt at that. You let go of the table, standing up straight. That was too far, and Tamlin was well aware of it.

"You're quite lucky I'm in a generous mood," she crooned. "So I'll give you chance to break the spell you're all under."

Tamlin spat in her face, but she only laughed, wiping it away with her sleeve.

"You have seven times seven years before I claim you," she stated. "If you want to break the curse, you only need to find a human girl willing to marry you. But not just any girl--a human with ice in her heart. A human willing to kill a faerie. And the faerie must be one of your men. And only if she kills him in an unprovoked attack. He must be killed for hatred alone--just as Jurian did to Clythia. So you may understand my sister's pain."

Tamlin could only glare at her. Without his power, he was defenseless.

"The Spring Court is free to leave," she announced. "The rest of you shall remain here."

You tried to meet Rhys's gaze again, but his was so focused on Amarantha.

She met his eyes, a smirk on her red lips. She kept eye contact with Rhys as she flung The Autumn Court power out--towards where the Court of Nightmares was gathered.

You could feel the heat on your face as the flames flew at the Court, hitting half of them. Half of Rhys's court. And she kept her eyes on him the entire time.

Shrieks echoed from the entire room, and you realized that you, too, were screaming as you watched hundreds of Fae burning to death. The scars on your hands seemed to ache, just as they always did when you were around flames.

They began to drop in fiery masses, their skin burning up until they were nothing but smoldered corpses.

Your shadows had gone quiet, and when you looked down, you realized that they were gone.

Rhys finally met your eyes, and you sent him a desperate expression. He shook his head at you just slightly.

You noticed Eris standing with his mother, his arm around her protectively. You were always surprised by how fiercely he protected her. Whenever you mentioned her, he got defensive.

"I still have a small portion of my power left," Rhys said into your mind. "I've secured Velaris. I've informed our family what happened. You need to lie low, Y/N. I will find you when I can."

"I'm scared," you admitted to him, eyes wide.

"I know," he said. "Just stay away from her until I can get to you, and you'll be fine."

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