#eris: brother 2

[robertsbarbie]

twisters review by my brother is sending me

[kenchann]

meli finds out something

[blood-starved-beast]

shout out to the Japanese translation of the game confirming the order of Nyx's children as

the Fates

Charon

Moros

Nemesis

the Twins (Than and Hypnos)

Eris

Honestly doing the heavy lifting the other versions of the games can't really explain without it being out of place

[thefirstknife]

Phew. What a week. (It's only Tuesday)

Xivu Arath and Eris talking, arguing and fighting...... 500 revived, 10000 healed. The last interaction got me.

[viktoriaashleyyx]

I headcannon that one of the other Vanserra brothers is named Ares and it just pisses everyone off.

Eris thinks it's funny.

And in Luciens baby babble phase he just called Eris "this one" and Ares "that one"

[rugus]

[flowers-of-io]

This Book Is Full of Lies — chapter 13

“Your self denial is so precious,” Savathûn laughs, her tone like fragrant velvet, wrapping around Ór’s mind until it suffocates. “But I understand. It’s a hard realisation, that all this time you’ve been but a passenger in your own head… I mean, what are your friends going to think?”

Chapter 13: Reckless Oracle

[planet4546b]

something so funny about eris back in shadowkeep being like ‘i’ve made peace with my past and moved on, i’ve let what happened to me go and no longer need revenge’ to the degree that for like 3 seasons in a row she got treated as everyone’s therapist (lol) and now she’s like. hmmmm. actually i’d like to become the hive god of vengeance thank you. AND SHES RIGHT!

[nocasdatsgay]

From the Ashes, the Wildflowers Grow

Chapter 2: Heir and High Lord

This can be read as a standalone

Word Count: 2938

CW: Blood mentions, Emotional Distress

Chapter Summary: Beron was dead. Beron was dead, and Eris… Eris was not High Lord.

Also read it on ao3 Here

Master Post and Full Fic Summary Here.

Part 2 Here

**Typos are corrected**

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris felt like all the air around him had left with the way he was gasping but not getting enough to properly breathe.

Beron was dead.

Beron was dead and Eris… Eris wasn’t high lord.

He waited for the power to come to him, so sure it would rush into him the second Beron drew his last breath.

But it didn’t.

It chose Piran. The second oldest, who stood beside him and looked just as shocked as Eris. The room was silent. Even after the surge of power in Piran, neither of them moved. It felt like decades passed when Eris felt hands on him, guiding him out the blood spattered room and down a hall. He turned to see his mother pulling him along. She didn’t look at him. When they entered a study and shut the door, Eris nearly collapsed.

“I don’t understand,” he started but couldn’t finish.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to rage. He was the eldest; he spent his whole life enduring Beron in hopes of killing the bastard and taking his place. To make Autumn better. He felt warm hands cup his face and he gazed back into his mother’s eyes.

She stroked his cheek with her thumb. “Breathe my love,” she said.

“I can’t,” he all but choked on his grief. “It chose Piran. Piran. How- it was supposed to be me!”

A spark of rage came through and his fists caught fire. He quickly shook them out.

“Eris,” she didn’t let him go. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“No!” He pulled away stomping to the other end of the room. “I’m the eldest! It should have chosen me!”

His mother looked at him with what he knew was pity. “Eris. Please sit. I need you to sit down.”

“How can I sit? I have to do something. What does it say about me that I didn’t become High Lord?”

His whole identity was wrapped in being the heir to Autumn. He was raised to rule the court. He spent his life lying and cheating his way into taking out Beron. Without it, he was nothing.

Despite his protests, his mother walked up to him and without a word guided him to the couch. She forced him to sit. She sighed loudly and he looked up at her.

“I was worried this would happen,” she said softly, looking down at the floor. “I was- I hoped my bloodline and Beron naming you his heir would be enough but-“

“But what,” he said more harshly than he meant.

He stood again, restless energy humming through him. His mother grabbed his face again, cradling it in her hands as she looked lovingly at him.

“Eris,” There were tears in her eyes. “The magic skipped you because you’re not Beron’s son.”

“That’s not possible,” he snapped back immediately, pulling away again while a chill ran down his spine. “I look just like- like father.” He spat the last word with venom. Even dead he wouldn’t give that male any niceties.

“You look like me.” His mother’s voice cracked as one of those tears escaped and rolled down her cheek, “and you have Helion’s eyes, Eris.”

“That isn’t possible!” He yelled, fire once again engulfing his hands for a moment. “I was born after you married. Your affair started after the war, you told me-“

“The affair, Eris.” His mother’s own autumn powers ran along her fingers. Probably ready to fight him if he didn’t settle. “I knew Helion before I was married.”

Eris could only stare at her. “How? Father would have, he would have killed you.”

Her flames vanished and she stood straight, her face hardened. “You were born nine months after the wedding. I went horseback riding when I felt the labor start as a cover. The healer told Beron that’s why you came early and he believed it.”

Eris stumbled back, falling onto the couch again behind him when his knees gave out. He wasn’t the heir of Autumn. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

“I don’t have any of those powers.” He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. “I would have- I would have shown them by now.”

If he was truly an heir of Day he wouldn’t have been taken by that fucking crown. Surely he would have been able to break free from it. But I did, he remembered, I was coherent enough to hide the Made blade and feed that wretch incorrect information. The whole time growing up he called Lucien a bastard but the truth was they both were.

He looked at his mother and he knew he sounded defeated when he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was selfish.” She said, more tears falling down her cheeks. “I was scared and alone. You were my baby. I- I didn’t want Beron to find out and kill you. By the time you were old enough there was a war and I was separated from you. After… I don’t have an excuse.”

“Does he know?” Eris was crying. He hadn’t cried since he was a child but he couldn’t stop the tears. He didn’t stop his voice from raising as he repeated “Does he know!”

“No.”

Helion didn’t know. Which meant Eris couldn’t go to him. He felt his throat tighten. He wasn’t safe here. He definitely was to be a laughing stock when the morning came and everyone started finding out he wasn’t high lord. He wished humiliation could kill, then at least he would be dead.

There was a knock and he heard the door open. He looked automatically, not bothering to wipe away drying tears or hide his distress. Piran had walked in looking white as a ghost. His copper brown hair was disheveled, like he’d been running his fingers through it constantly since they’d left the room. It was almost nauseating the power coming off him in waves. He shut the door and his gaze met Eris’s.

“We can fix this,” Piran whispered. “I don’t- I don’t want to be High Lord.”

“How?” Eris snapped. “Even if I killed you, which I won’t, the power wouldn’t come to me.”

“Maybe there’s a spell,” Piran went and stood beside their mother. He looked between the two. “A transfer of power. Maybe the priestesses-“

Their mother reached over and cupped Piran’s cheek with her hand. Eris could see him shaking as she looked at him with a soft smile.

“The magic chose you. It’s alright, my love.”

“But mother,” his voice cracked much like Eris’s did earlier. “I can’t. I wasn’t trained for this. I’m not,” he stopped and clenched his jaw.

Eris wanted to vomit. None of this was going according to plan. The only thing that went smoothly was killing Beron. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees to cover his eyes with his hand.

He spoke without looking up, “we just have to accept it.”

“You can’t say that,” Piran hissed. “I will concede my status.”

Eris dropped his hand and glared up at his brother. “I can’t be high lord, you idiot. I’m not Beron’s son.”

Piran’s eyes widened. “What?” He looked to their mother. “How, you didn’t- Eris is the eldest, you weren’t-“

“I knew Helion before I married your father.” She said, not an ounce of regret in her tone.

“How could you do that?” Piran stepped back, putting distance between them. “Mother, how could you? Lucien and Eris? Was I, did you even want me?”

“I am your mother, Piran.” Eris had never heard his mother speak so harshly. “Of course I wanted you. I love you no more than I love any of my other children. You both were blessings from the cauldron. All seven of you were.” Eris watched his mother pull Piran to her and hold him in a way she hadn’t been able to hold any of them for a long time. “Do not ever doubt my love for you.”

Eris failed to tamper down the jealousy welling in his chest. “That’s fantastic to hear mother, but that doesn’t solve our problem.”

“I told you,” Piran said but didn’t remove himself from the hug. “I’ll transfer the power.”

“That isn’t possible and you know it.” He shot up from the couch, the heat in his body rising with his anger again. He turned from them both, staring at the bookshelf to think. “I’ll have to leave; fake my death. Live the rest of my days disguised a common fae in the woods.”

He could practically feel Piran roll his eyes. “Stop being dramatic.”

Eris felt his mother grab his arm. “I’ll send word to Helion. We can set up a meeting-“

“Helion hates me.” Eris wanted to snatch his arm away but didn’t when he glanced and saw the hurt in his mother’s eyes. “Do you think centuries of hate will disappear just because we tell him I’m his bastard son?”

Piran didn’t let their mother answer. “Mother, go call for a priestess. We will wait here.”

There was no room for protest. Their mother nodded and left quickly. There was heavy silence between them but Eris refused to break it first.

“So,” Piran asked after a moment. “How does it feel to know you aren’t the son of a monster?”

“Don’t start,” Eris scowled. “I was raised by him all the same as you.”

“But mother wanted you. You and Lucien both. I always knew you were the favorites and now I know why.”

“Favorite? I’m the favorite?” Eris scoffed. “You and the others were coddled by her long after you became of age. At least mother tended to your punishment wounds instead of leaving you to deal with them yourself.”

Piran went quiet and Eris felt he won. Until Piran replied, “Father wouldn’t let her.” Eris stared at his brother. “He said you were the heir; you needed to learn how to deal with your own problems. He told all of us if we were caught helping it would be a week in the dungeons.”

“I didn’t know that.”

He should have. But that was probably the point of it, to make Eris feel like he couldn’t trust anyone. Not even his own mother.

Eris changed the subject. “You should stay High Lord.”

“No,” Piran shook his head. “I don’t know the first thing about ruling. It’s you who have the loyalties. You have led the army. And you know damn well Asher and Cillian won’t listen to me. I bet those two don’t even know our father is dead.”

“Probably not,” the corner of his mouth ticked up. “I bet they’re both drunk and passed out in a corridor again.”

“Leave us to do the dirty work as usual.” His remark had Eris’s eyes skimming both their clothes. They were covered in now dried blood. Piran cleared his throat. “The Night Court made Crusebreaker High Lady. If they can do that, surely we can transfer the power.”

Eris laughed. “You’re really going to take notes from the Night Court? Feyre maybe High Lady but Rhysand pulls all the strings. She’s only High lady in title; he lets her think she has power.”

Piran side eyed his brother. “You’re just bitter that their Witch didn’t accept your proposition.”

“If you saw how they used her, you would have offered her a way out as well.”

They both were silent after that. They both ended up on the couch, waiting. Embarrassment settled back in but Eris was too tired to care. He could weather the humiliation of the priestess finding out. It was the whole court and all of Pyrthian learning of his predicament he wasn’t sure he could fully handle.

And Helion.

Helion would probably kill him, if only to keep Eris from inheriting Day. He doubted his mother could sway him differently. Eris was always worried about that happening with Lucien. He never dreamed it could happen to him too.

Eris mulled it over in his mind while he cradled his head in his hands. How did he not know? He looked nothing like Lucien. However, the more Eris thought about it, the more his stomach soured. He didn’t have the Spring sun to see if his skin would tan. He didn’t burn as easily as his other brothers. He had to spell his hair to keep it neat. So many little details adding up to a glaring miscalculation on his part.

And Lucien. The gods have damned him as he made promises to Lucien he now couldn’t keep. He couldn’t even- his chest tightened. What would Celeste think? She was going to come back and find him an utter failure. An heir to none and unwanted bastard of a court he never knew.

When the door opened, snapping him out his thoughts, he and Piran jumped to their feet. His mother walked in and behind her the Head Priestess. Shame washed over him as she looked at Piran with shock. Her eyes seemed to dare not glance at Eris.

“High Lord,” she said with a curtsy. “May the Mother bless your reign.”

“No,” Piran shook his head. “It will not be my reign the Mother will bless.” He looked at their mother then back to the priestess. “Priestess Rhea, I need to transfer the power.”

She shifted on her feet, staring at the floor. “My Lord, I am not sure it can be done. There are risks.”

“What are the risks?” Piran asked.

“The Magic is ancient. If it feels disrespected, there would be devastating consequences. The cauldron blesses those it deems worthy. It is a slight against the cauldron and the mother to go against those blessings.”

“But there is a way,” Piran pressed on.

“You could lose your life,” she replied softly.

Eris saw the pain that flashed in his mother’s eyes. He turned to his brother. “Piran, this is nonsense. Just stay High Lord and make me second in command.”

“No, it’s supposed to be you,” he countered. “You’re the strongest of all of us. It- it should not matter whose blood runs through your veins. It should be you.”

“Mother would never forgive me if you die trying to make me High Lord.”

“Boys, please-“ she started but Eris held up his hand.

“No, mother. You’ve suffered enough.”

Fire shown in Piran’s eyes. “Well, I am High Lord for now and I command it. Rhea, explain the spell.”

Eris glowered but couldn’t fight the command. Rhea couldn’t either. She went into detail on how the process worked. How they would have to stop at just the right time before all of Piran’s powers were drained. If they didn’t, his very life would leave him. She added with great emphasis that nothing of this sort had ever been attempted in her lifetime.

“Even if it worked,” she added, “the cauldron could curse the reign. The Autumn Court would be a shell of its former self until the magic rights itself.”

“The reign will not be cursed. The Mother blesses those who act selflessly. I’m not doing this because I want to. I’m doing what’s best for the court.”

Eris scoffed. “This is everything but selfless Pir. Stop being a coward and accept this is how things are meant to be!”

“The Cauldron is wrong.” Piran yelled so loudly it came as a roar. The two females recoiled but Eris stood his ground. “I can’t do this!”

“You can and you will,” Eris replied.

Eris and Piran stared each other down. It was their mother, sensing the increasing hostility, that ushered the priestess into the hall. He was uncertain what that would accomplish, but when the door shut Piran’s shoulders went slack.

“We split it.” He said and Eris narrowed his gaze. His brother pressed on. “We split the power. We both take the title of High Lord. You do politics and I will take over agriculture. We split the legions.”

“And when you get bored of sharing?” Eris snarled.

If it wounded Piran’s pride, he didn’t show it. “We make a bargain to never willingly or knowingly plot to overthrow the other.”

“What happens, when you die? The next heir only gets half the power of a High Lord? How can you not see how ridiculous this is?”

He wanted nothing more than to collapse, settling for leaning back against the wall. Dawn was going to break soon. They didn’t have time to keep arguing. And Eris was tired. So very tired.

He continued. “We need to focus on damage control. We cannot kept wasting time arguing about who deserves the power more. The governors and lords loyal to Beron need to be elimated.”

Silence fell heavy between them.

“Fine,” Piran said, sounding just as tired as Eris. “I keep the powers and you’ll be my second.”

In the future Eris knew he would make peace with that. For the moment, he was reluctantly thinking of all the things he would have done if he had been crowned High Lord. Piran was right on that front; he wasn’t trained. Eris would need to swallow his own pride for the next few weeks while he walked his brother through the ropes.

“Your first act, I request you pardon Lucien.” Piran nodded. Eris was relieved he didn’t argue. “Then you’ll call the court together before sending out formal letters to the other High Lords.”

Piran still looked worried. “And what do we tell them, Eris? What do we tell them when they see I am now High Lord?” And you are not, went unsaid.

Eris shrugged. “You tell them to bow.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Author’s note: I really wanted to play with the fact Eris and Helion have the same eyes. I also wanted to explore what would happen if Eris wasn’t high lord and how he would feel.

[fishybehavior]

I am so jealous and angry rn, and I have no good reason to be

[circesoracle]

Destiny 2 is a silly little looter shooter but also its a story about love and it did matter and continues to matter at every turn. Destiny 2 is the opposite of that post about the love being there but not changing anything. the love is there and it changes everything. we succeed because Elsie tells her sister that she's there and she loves her and she trusts her and she won't leave again. we get Mara back because Shuro Chi loved her. we defeat Savathun because she cares, because she feels betrayed, because she feels her sisters were betrayed with her and that care and love blinds her. we live because Mara learns to open herself up to love and refuses to walk away from her brother again and turns back for him this time. we win because Eramis loves her people too much to fully buy into the Witness and we win because Eido believes there's good in everyone and refuses to live in a world where people can't change. we win because Taranis loved Riven and their children and defied his own nature and starved himself to give them that love. we win because Rasputin loves humanity so much even though he was never meant to because Ana loved him so much she taught him every beautiful thing she knew. we win because despite their differences Ikora loves Zavala and Zavala loves Ikora and they couldn't live without each other. we win because Eris loved her fireteam too much to let phantoms of them ruin that love and she lived because Brya loved her enough to give her one last chance. we win because our ghost loves us. just because he loves us so much. and because we love him. and because Cayde loves Sundance and wants to spend eternity with her. we win because at every turn the characters choose to love and trust and forgive.

[robertsbarbie]

today was my brother’s birthday and him and i were hanging out before birthday festivities and we were talking about how our mother still treats him like a child (this man is fully married owns a house 27 okay) and always gets him toys or childish decorations obviously can’t talk about it around her so we were just discussing before okay we’re at dinner and my mother point blank says “i just like to still treat him like a child” unprompted and my sister (who was not in the earlier convo) was IMMEDIATELY like “that’s weird” and my mother was so hurt and annoyed by that and it’s like! it goes far beyond “you’ll always be my kid mentality” when you are buying literal toys for an adult man and refuse to see how unhinged what you’re doing actually is

[elleybug]

Day 2 of Eris week @erisweekofficial Childhood | Legacy

🍂🍂🍂🍁🍁🍁

Eris would spend years of his childhood alone before his first brother was born. Vitus. As the eldest he would take care and look out for his little brother but both were also young enough to have grown up together.

They were close and were the best of friends until Beron pitted them against one another. As the years went by it finally drove them apart. Their bond could not withstand that cruelty.

Neither did Vitus.

When Eris finally became high lord he took in his estranged niece…. the only daughter from his late brother as his own. To raise and cherish …perhaps also chasing the lost visage of the little fae child he used to play with in the afternoons of autumn.

———————

Another little story of the Vanserra family.

[daycourtofficial]

All’s well that ends well to end up with you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.5k | warnings: none

Summary: fears and doubts cause you and Eris to do your first irrational act together: a secret mating bond ceremony

Author’s note: happy Eris Week to all who celebrate and to @erisweekofficial for all their work!! I gotta start with my roots and my first post has to be gingerfucker!! I have to give the people what they know me for!! This can be read as a stand alone tho 🫶🏻

You breathed deeply, the chimes of the clock tower drowning out any other noise. Eris stood before you, an immaculate jacket of deep red adorning his chest. He wore a black dress shirt beneath, embroidered with the phases of the moon around the collar. His jacket was a rich velvet, gold thread woven throughout.

It was the perfect way to symbolize your unity. You were not sure who made such a garment, unsure if black fabric was even allowed in the Autumn Court.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care when his soft amber eyes look down at you as he held out his arm for you.

The two of you were in the Day Court under the cover of darkness, a secret mating ceremony. It was truly quite romantic, a tale you hoped to share whenever it’s safe for you to do so.

You had come to visit Helion a month prior for negotiations on behalf of Rhysand. You had asked to come in Rhys’s stead because 1) you also had wanted to peruse the libraries and 2) you were hoping to negotiate a pegasus from Helion.

At least, those were the reasons you gave your brother.

The end of Amarantha’s reign had allowed you to finally see your mate for the first time in five decades, having slipped away to a spot in the woods after Rhys’s return to wait in hopes of just a glimpse of him.

You had waited impatiently, certain that the nerves and anxiety were rolling off you in waves for any nearby wildlife to intercept. It felt incredible to see him again, your face tucked beneath his chin as he held you close to him, his scent burning itself into your memory once more.

His first words to you following your separation were a desperate plea for a ceremony, his pleas soft as he clutched you tightly to his chest.

You knew it was too risky to do it in either of your home courts. Spring was an obvious no, Winter and Dawn were quite risky, leaving Summer and Day as your only real options.

You were quite fond of Helion, and you were sure you could convince him to allow the two of you passage into his court for a few hours.

After he listened to your pleas, he agreed to allow the two of you access to one of his temples for a few hours.

“Not all of us can see so well in the moonlight,” he had told you, letting you know the location of the most beautiful temple in his court. “Only one priestess roams the halls on Tuesday nights. She is quite fond of performing such ceremonies.”

His words were no embellishment. The temple before you was massive and stunningly beautiful. The high arched ceilings with suns painted everywhere almost glowed against the blue backdrop behind them.

You wondered how it looked during the day.

Eris looked down as you hooked your arm into his. You had accepted the bond decades ago, but the two of you wanted to go through with the ceremony. To ensure that no matter what happened to two of you moving forward, whatever happened to your courts, your people, your homes, there was some record with this date and your names on it. Some written record for future generations to find eons later, when the lands look nothing like they do now and the people live lives that resemble nothing like your own.

When the common tongue is gone, replaced with some newer language you couldn’t begin to understand. Your names would live forever within the pages of this temple, tucked away in their recorded archives: the prince of the Autumn Court and the princess of the Night Court, bound together by fate and by their own wishes.

The flickering light from the candles made Eris’s freckles dance across his face.

The lord led you down the long aisle, your arm nestled into his elbow. The two of you moved in tandem, your long skirts kissing the ground as you went, the black fabric turning red as it moved down your body until it looked as if you walked in the flames.

The priestess nodded at the two of you as you approached the altar, your dress’s slight train cascading down the steps behind you. You turned to Eris, his hands outstretched in invitation, pleading for yours to rest atop them. His hands were warm against yours, the familiar heat calming your nerves.

The priestess before you wore all white, a long flowing gown cinched at the waist. It looked nothing like what Helion wore - instead of long, flowing fabrics, the priestess wore a long, tight-fitted dress, long bell shaped sleeves adorning her arms. A white hood covered her dark black hair, and dark hands adorned with gold rings peaked out from her sleeves.

The priestess lit the candles around the altar as you two looked into each other’s eyes, every emotion strumming through the bond between you two, a song you swore you could hear humming through the air and your chest.

She approached the two of you, a golden silk ribbon in her hands. You moved your right hand into his right hand, and he gently scraped his index finger against his palm. She began chanting, wrapping the soft silk around your forearms. She connected the two joined hands, and you squeezed Eris’s palm, offering a soft smile that he returned.

He was captivating in the night, a fire that kept you warm long through a treacherous night.

Her chanting paused as she looked at you, her low voice telling you, “if you wish to exchange any personal vows, now is the time.”

You took a deep breath, turning back to Eris.

Your mate looked back at you, and any nerves you had dissipated as you started speaking, the words coming from your lips as you gazed into his amber eyes.

“I’m not sure if we were ever two separate things, but if we were, if we are, the edges of you and I have been blurring since I met you, our definitions becoming hazier. I am officially laying claim that there is no longer any part of me that hasn’t been invaded by you.

“I have prayed for you in bonfires, in the dying hearths of my childhood. I always viewed fire as a sacred thing, always offering it something so it can continue to burn before me. Perhaps I was just learning how to stoke the flames, or maybe I knew that worshiping the flame would lead me to you.”

His hand squeezed your own, the ribbon not feeling tight enough to truly blend the two of you together.

His eyes shone in the candlelight, his beauty intensified in the flame as if it knew he was kin.

“I have gone by many names. Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn throne, prick, eldest, …. All of those names pale in comparison to the first time you called me ‘mate’.

“That awful playwright who you adore so much put into one of his plays, “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” And yet, he never knew what it felt like to be called ‘yours’, what it feels like when you gaze at me so softly, to see the words ‘mine, mine, mine’ swimming in your irises.

“I do not know where my promises can lie, what I am truly capable of. I do not wish to commit to false promises. Our foundation has always been on feeble ground, and I do not wish to build a mateship on such poor foundations.

“I promise to do my very best for you, every day, every minute, for the rest of my life. I promise that every decision I will make will include you as a factor. As the factor. My life is complicated, as you are aware, but you are not complicated. You never have been. My chest yearns for you, at all times. You have always offered me the peace of familiarity.“

You surged forward, capturing his lips in a kiss before pulling back quickly.

“Er, I don’t care about my name, or my title. None of it compares to being called your mate.”

The priestess looked at you two, probably waiting to see if you would pounce on him right here. Maybe that was how they held these ceremonies in Day. You were sure Helion wouldn’t mind.

“You are bound together, from here for eternity, in perfect union. May the Mother bless you both with endless love and patience for each other.”

The air had a certain crispness to it at her words, the bond humming in your chest with satisfaction, satisfying a yearning that hadn’t let up for centuries.

Nobody could deny either of you the sanctity of your bond anymore.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124

Thanks for reading ❣️

[mirandasidefics]

Autumn Leaves

(Late Submission for @erisweekofficial Prompt: Bonds/Bargains 👑)

Pairing(s): Eris x Archeron Sister! Reader  

Summary: Eris never anticipated to find his Mate in a former human. 

Word Count: 3.1K

Warning(s): Mention of traumatic childbirth, mentions of Beron (he’s a trigger all on his own these days). 

Author’s Note: BASED ON THIS REQUEST. I felt that this scenario fit perfectly with the prompt of Bonds/Bargains for Eris Week. I hope that this fits well with what you had wanted anon! I know the request specifically asked for Reader to be the youngest, but I felt that it would be a bit more inclusive to leave the birth order more ambiguous for those that maybe don’t relate to being the youngest sibling. My brain wasn’t functioning enough to allow me to write an understandable dance scene, so…sorry that it's not as descriptive as I would have preferred. I also didn’t go back to review any of the events that occurred in ACOWAR or ACOSF, so if it’s not exactly canon compliant just ignore that. Also, Lucien was at the Hewn City solstice ball for this because I said so. 

Special thanks to @hardcoremarvelfan for beta reading and coming up with the title for this. Also, there will very likely be a part 2.

dividers by @/tsunami-of-tears ACOTAR Masterlist

The first time Eris saw the Made female he was immediately intrigued. She was quiet and stoic, much like the two sisters she accompanied for the High Lord’s meeting. Her eyes, the same shade as her sisters, appeared cold as she took in the room. It was clear she was observing more than she let on, gaze trained forward yet keenly aware of every single one of the High Lords and their various entourages. It was apparent to Eris that she saw more than her sisters, perhaps even more than his brother’s mate who was rumored to have been gifted the powers of a Seer by the Cauldron. He could feel the power that radiated off this fourth sister and couldn’t help but wonder what gifts she may have been granted. 

The second time he saw her was at the end of the battle with Hybern on the edge of the Spring and Summer Court border. Her eyes appeared distant as if she was separated from her body and the gore that surrounded her. But his answer regarding her gift had been answered as a circle of ice forged spears surrounded her. At least a dozen bodies were skewered while she stood stock still in the center of the circle. He had been compelled to approach her, but his brother got to her first, asking if she was okay and if she had seen his mate. After a single nod and a pointed finger towards a series of tents Lucien gently guided her away from the carnage she wrought. 

The third time he saw her was at the solstice ball in the Hewn City over a year later. Dressed in a drab black gown clearly intended to prevent her from sticking out. However, it wouldn’t have mattered if she was dressed down or in the most lavish of gowns. Eris’ eyes were instantly drawn to her as soon as she processed along with the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. His youngest brother was by her side as an escort. As she approached the dias with her family, her eyes found his own, and Eris felt the world tilt on its axis. It took all of his mental will power to remain upright at the realization of what she was to him. Mate. 

Eris couldn’t remove his eyes from the female as Rhysand made his speech. Nor could he remove them when the music started and various Fae in attendance began to dance. He followed every one of her steps as she was escorted towards the dance floor, a beautiful smile spread wide across plush pink lips. He was vaguely aware of Rhysand's approach, his introduction to the High Lady’s sister. The only one that was dressed to be admired by the eyes of others. Nesta, he believed it was. But Eris wasn’t interested in the female that stood before him. He held up a hand, instantly silencing the High Lord, and simply pointed to the sister on the dance floor. 

“What is her name?” He asked, the light russet gaze never faltering. Eris could feel the tension in Nesta’s shoulders as she followed his gesture. Rhysand, always one to never give away his thoughts, supplied her name. Eris repeated it, the name tasting like honeyed wine in his mouth. Nesta attempted to redirect the conversation and offered Eris a dance, but the Autumn Heir ignored her. 

“Any bargains that you wish to make will be offered by her,” Eris’ voice was smooth as his eyes finally met purple. “Shall I introduce myself or will you make the introduction for me?” Rhysand turned his head towards the direction where Lucien spun her around as the two waltzed. His youngest brother’s head whipped in their direction, before he halted his dance and brought her over for a formal introduction. As expected, the female politely accepted Eris’ invitation for a dance. 

That first dance was all it took for Eris to know he didn’t want to be separated from her moving forward. Her demeanor was so different from what he had observed when he was only able to watch her from afar. He danced with only her for the remainder of the celebration and found himself completely enraptured by her. While he could tell that she wasn’t as strong a dancer as her sister, whom he caught out of the corner of his eye, it didn’t deter his conviction of only wanting to be by her side. Conversation flowed freely and easily as they danced. She was sharp witted, with a penchant for dry sarcasm. Her wry smile and her laugh ignited something deep within. 

Eris always had a drive to protect those he cared for, such as his Mother and Lucien, but the desire to keep her safe was stronger than anything he had experienced before. He couldn’t leave her in the Night Court, even if most of her time was spent in a city far safer than the one in which they danced. However, she couldn’t exactly join him in the Autumn lest he run the risk of her becoming one of Beron’s targets to keep Eris in line. For the first time in decades, Eris didn’t know what to do. 

“Is everything alright my Lord?” Her voice was filled with nothing but genuine gentle concern. His eyes refocused from their far away haze, taking in her sharp features. Features that were so indicative of the High Fae. Looking at her one would never guess that she used to be human. 

“Eris,” He corrected. “Please.” 

“Is everything alright, Eris?” Her cheeks flushed with the slightest tinge of pink. His own heart stirred at her reaction to the use of his name. Their dance had come to a halt, and he hadn’t even realized the musicians were taking a break. 

“Yes,” He cleared his throat. “Just a bit lost in thought.” She nodded her head, taking a slight step back from his hold on her waist. Eris had to refrain from the desire to pull her back towards his chest. 

“I’ve enjoyed our time together,” She took a look towards her sisters. All three were huddled against the edge of the dance floor. Nesta and Feyre’s sharp steel gazes attempted to pierce through the mask that Eris held in place. While the other, whose name he had sadly forgotten, had a glazed over look. Upon focusing, he noticed that the brown was nearly obscured by milky white. He heard the female in front of him gasp, her eyes trained on the Seer. Her head whipped back towards him, giving a slight nod.  

“I hope that we are able to count on your discretion about the Trove,” Her speech was rushed and she gathered the bottom of her skirts. “I’m certain that the High Lord will provide support to any claim you have to being the Heir.” With a quick second bow in parting she turned to rush over to her sisters. 

Before she got too far, Eris grasped her elbow and asked, “Would you come visit me? In Autumn?” She blinked at him. Almost as if she was surprised by his desire to see her again. 

“I must get to my sister,” She glanced back across the hall, at the High Lady trying to gain the attention of the Seer who was clearly lost in a vision. 

“I understand,” He released his grip and nodded solemnly. “I will write to you.” She blinked again. What he wouldn’t give to know what that beautiful mind was processing. She gave him a curt nod, before she quickly made her way across the hall. 

Eris couldn’t even last a week before sending his first letter. Again he asked if she would be interested in visiting his home court. She provided no answer or any acknowledgement of his question. Of course this didn’t deter Eris as they continued to exchange letters. With each one he would make his offer, enticing her with descriptions of celebrations and various traditions. He would tell her about his Hounds and his Mother. Yet she continued to not provide an answer to his offer. This same pattern went on for three months before Eris had enough of the tip-toeing around the subject. He was determined to get an answer, even if it was “No”. 

Eris arrived at what he assumed was Rhysand’s townhouse as the High Lord had instructed in his brief correspondence with the Autumn Heir.  He tapped the back of his knuckles on the large oak door. A few brief moments drifted by with no response. No movement could be heard from inside either. He peered his head towards the large bay window at the front, but the curtains were drawn shut. 

His heartbeat began to quicken with each passing moment as there continued to be no response. Eris was wholly unfamiliar with the city. He had no clue where to even begin looking for his mate. He was under the impression that he was at least expected by Rhysand. So why was no one here? 

Eris turned, prepared to winnow to the Hewn City in the hopes that Keir may have knowledge of where the High Lord could be, despite how unlikely that prospect was. Instead, he came face to face with an ethereal looking female. Skin and hair dark as shadows. A billowy white dress hugged her frame, yet appeared as if it was floating in a barrier of invisible water. It took him a minute to recognize her as one of Rhysand’s half wraith servants from Under the Mountain. 

“They are all at the High Lord and Lady’s home,” The female began to explain without preamble. “If you would follow me.” She turned, not bothering to ensure that the Autumn Lord followed. When the pair approached the near ostentatiously large home near the riverfront, screams could be heard from inside. If his heart hadn’t already been on the verge of an attack it surely was now. The half-wraith opened the front entrance, beckoning Eris to follow. 

No sooner as he stepped inside did his mate come surrying down the main staircase of the foyer. A pile of blood stained sheets spilling over her arms. Her eyes were rimmed in scarlet. Stepping onto the bottom landing she finally looked up, taking notice of the male. 

“Eris,” Her voice was no more than a whisper. Her lower lip wobbled, teeth sinking into it to prevent the tremble. Eris didn’t bother with formality, taking quick strides to meet her. As he reached her side, she dropped the pile of fabric and allowed her arms to encircle his waist. Her body shook with her sobs as her finger dug into his shoulders. 

“Feyre went into labor unexpectedly,” She cried into the elaborate brocade of his tunic. “The babe…his wings…” She couldn’t get her thoughts out in a coherent manner without the sobs overtaking her completely. “ They’re dying, Eris.” She wailed upon hearing her own words spoken aloud. He pulled her in tighter to his chest, his other hand gently rubbing in soothing circles along her shoulders. Eris had no words that could provide her with any sort of comfort, making him feel as if he was already failing her as her Mate. All the male could do was hold her and hope that she didn’t feel as alone in her grief if the High Lady of the Night Court somehow didn’t survive.  

Suddenly, Elain called out to her sister from the top of the staircase, “Come quick! Nesta she…” The warm brown eyes of the middle sister swam with unshed tears, a smile graced her features as well. Eris’ shoulders relaxed as the female's expression could only be an indication of good news. His mate quickly detached herself from his hold, racing back towards where the family convened. 

As soon as the two were out of sight, Eris looked around the foyer. He quickly found a small bench and sat down. He had never felt more awkward in his life. While he had developed a correspondence with this particular sister, he wasn’t exactly part of the family just yet. 

Eris sat in the hall, waiting for what felt like hours for his mate to return. Once she did, she escorted him into a large sitting room. 

“They’re going to live,” She smiled, sitting down in a chair across from him. She smoothed out her skirt, tucking in a corner that had somehow ended up with blood spatter staining the material. Eris merely hummed in acknowledgment. He didn’t know what to do with himself now that they had a moment alone like this. He had planned this elaborate greeting and proposal for her to come and visit, not giving her the room to ignore the request. However, that all went right out the proverbial window. His hands straightened the fabric of his shirt, then went to remove a non-existent strand of hair from his trousers, before finally resting on his lap. 

“You’re fidgeting,” She pointed out. Her smile grew as she suppressed a giggle. He was happy to see that her mood had lifted so quickly. It made the reason for his visit appear less strange, inappropriate even given the intensity of the events that occurred. She gently placed one of her hands over his. Her delicate fingers soothing and calming the rolling fire that he didn’t even notice had built up within himself. He allowed himself to grasp her hand in return, interlacing their digits. The sensation of fire against ice erupted throughout his being. Opposite yet still a perfect complement of powers. Eris couldn’t help but wonder what they would be able to achieve together. 

“Eris,” Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, his deep hues meeting her own cool gaze. “I’m happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” He swallowed, suddenly realizing that his actions were a bit sudden and perhaps not as well thought out as he intended. His arrival without notice to her would be unexpected. He only informed Rhysand that he needed to speak to Archeron female, but never explained why. 

“I,” He began, voice cracking. His pale features flushed and he was reminded of his younger days when his voice hovered between childhood and deeper timber of maturity. The female before him suppressed another giggle behind her unclasped hand. 

“I’m here because you consistently ignore a very specific question,” His gaze was steady, exuding what he hoped would be seen as confidence and not the uncertainty he felt. “I’ve come to ask one final time. If you say no, I will not burden you with asking ever again.” 

“Eris,” She pulled her hand away, eyes now unable to meet his own. 

“I acknowledge that Autumn is not always considered the most beautiful, what with the decay that can accompany the season in the mortal lands, so if you don’t like it-”

“Why would I not like the place where my mate lives?” Her perfect brows furrowed as she looked at him. Eris was at a loss for words. 

“When…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. However, it appeared that he didn’t need to as her response was a perfect correlation to what was on his mind.  

“Since the Winter Solstice,” She said. “When you first asked me to come visit.” It was Eris’ turn to blink in stunned silence. She had given no indication of being aware of who he was to her. Then again, he also hadn’t explicitly made their bond known. Perhaps he was wrong in thinking that his actions were obvious. 

“It’s not that I’m afraid that I won’t like it there,” She went on. “I’m actually afraid that I would not want to leave. But I simply can’t abandon my sisters.” She lowered her head, averting her gaze from the embarrassment. However, Eris understood the desire to be with her siblings. The same desire to ensure the well-being and safety of his younger brothers was one of his reasons for not abandoning the Autumn court. For enduring the cruelty of his Father for nearly 5 centuries. 

“I would never ask that you do,” He assured. “In fact, I wouldn’t want you to call the Autumn Court home just yet anyway. Not while my father still breathes.”

“I’m not afraid-”

“I am,” Eris admitted quietly. “I can’t risk anything happening to you.” He meant it, and was surprised at how easily the truth slipped from him. But it was just the two of them at this moment. He didn’t have to hide behind that mask when with her. He tucked a strand of (h/c) hair behind the perfectly pointed arch of her ear. He watched a shiver run through her as his flesh met hers. 

“There are some places where I can keep you safe,” He explained, all of his thoughts spewing forth as his mind raced to prove that he could keep her safe enough for short visits. “Places where my Father doesn’t have the loyalty of the subjects, but they are loyal to me. I have a cabin, just along the borders of Summer and Winter. Close enough for you to run across either should the need arise. I’d prefer Summer, there is a temple not far from the border where you could claim sanctuary until Rhysand or one of the brutes could get you.”

“Eris…” 

“Please,” He implored. “I do not wish to scare you away or force you to come. But I cannot stay separated from you much longer. My brother is the one with the endless amounts of patients when it truly matters.”  She laughed, the melodic and soft sound made him feel light. 

“How often can we meet?” She inquired. Her bright blue eyes lit with anticipation of when they could have their time. 

“I can secure a few days away every month,” He explained, almost more to himself than her as he considered the variety of excuses he would need to utilize. “Maybe up to a week at most. The time of month would need to vary as well. Any semblance of a pattern would tip my Father off. He’s just paranoid enough to assume that I’d be planning some type of conspiracy against him.” Of course, his Father’s fears were not without reason. Eris was indeed planning to usurp the High Lord. Someday. 

“Alright then,” She beamed. “I will come and visit. Every month so long as it is safe and as long as I am able to return to my sisters.” Eris felt the corners of his mouth lift up, and soon she mirrored the expression. His heart flipped, and he had to clear his throat to regain control of his senses. 

“Then I shall send word when everything is ready.” He stood, preparing to leave when she clasped his hand again. 

“Stay for a while Eris,” Her voice was soothing, making it feel like she wasn’t giving him a command. Even if she had, he would have gladly done anything she bid of him. He knew in that instant he would do anything for her. 

General Tag list: @loving-and-dreaming @samslulumelon

[yearning-for-autumn]

So, here is my humble request 👀:

Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.

When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.

Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.

So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.

I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻

Would That I -- Part 1

A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!

Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health

Word Count: 3,638

Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.

Part 2 Part 3

Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.

“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.

“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”

Rhysand cleared his throat.

“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.

“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”

His brow furrowed.

“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.

“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.

You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.

You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.

---

In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.

You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.

He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.

“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.

“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.

---

As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.

Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.

He loosed a breath.

“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.

“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Is Cass--?”

“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.

“Ok.”

Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.

“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”

You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.

“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”

You scoff.

“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”

Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.

“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”

Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.

“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.

Rhysand sighed.

“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”

---

It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.

You sat up worried.

“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”

“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”

You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.

“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.

You snuggled up to your eldest brother.

“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”

Azriel tucked you under his arm.

“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.

---

Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.

He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.

Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.

“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.

“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”

Eris rolled his eyes.

“Just show me your plans, Ash.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.

“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.

In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.

He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.

It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.

When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.

Asher sighed,

“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.

“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.

“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”

“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.

“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”

“She is my mate.” Eris growled.

“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.

“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.

“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”

Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.

He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.

---

The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.

Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.

Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.

Disgust.

What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.

Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.

Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.

Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.

“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”

You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.

“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”

You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.

“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.

A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.

Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.

Would that you could be half as lucky.

Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.

---

There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.

“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.

“Eris will be there.” You said.

“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.

“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”

And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.

Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.

In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.

Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—

“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the magic word.”

“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.

A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...