#wintercourt

[limeandorange]

Viviane wasn’t just Kallias’s consort. She wasn’t just Lady of Winter. She was the heart of this court.

While Kallias stood tall and imposing beside her, regal and commanding, it was Viviane who drew the crowd, who embodied the warmth and spirit of the Winter Court. And it was Viviane whom the fae truly revered.

Kallias ruled, but Viviane led.

🔗 Read the full story on AO3!

[yiiyiiwrites]

| The Bold and the Brave |

Summary: Azriel looking after your fox whilst you fulfil your diplomatic duties in the dawn court on behalf of winter. Azriel trying his best when he has no clue what he’s doing. [acotar masterlist] 2752words

Azriel x winter court reader

“You want me to what?” Azriel said, peering over his book at you. The hard cover hanging together by a few threads at the spine and by the way your mate had tightened his grip you were convinced it’d finally fall apart.

“It would mean a lot to me, I’m going to the dawn court and I can’t keep on eye on him.” Your gaze flickered to the white furred fox curled on your lap, warm nose nudging your palm as you waited for a response.

-

Azriel’s shadows curled round his ears hissing at him to decline, but he always crumbled as soon as your brows dipped as if you expected to be denied anything you asked. It had been like that for centuries before you met him.

So he found himself not putting up a fight, agreeing to look after the winter fox.

Balto.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, Azriel would do anything for you. Balto however, had never shown him any attention other than lunging at him whenever he opened the closet and biting him when he was taking you away.

Not even a day since you’d left, Balto paced the creaky floorboards, tail dragging along behind him. His canines snapping whenever a stray dark wisp got in his way.

Balto’s pointed ears twitched each time Azriel dipped his pen into the ink jar. The scratching of metal on parchment raising the tuft of fur at the back of the fox’s neck.

“Stop that,” Azriel snapped, not glancing up from his desk. Balto huffed, pesky shadows hovering a breath away from the fox, neither knowing who the shadow singer had spoken to.

A flash white zipped past Azriel, the ever growing reports stacked on the table crashed to the floor. Balto’s wet nose leaving a trail on the letter he’d just finished, blue ink smudging the paper. He sniffed around the desk, swiping a paper weight off the edge. Which Azriel caught before it could topple over.

Shadows tore towards the fox, twisting around its bushy tail as they tried to lessen the damage. The action only making matters worse as Balto tried to snap at the wisps, running in a circle and landing in Azriel’s lap.

They both paused, Azriel’s hands frozen in the air and Balto’s mouth hung open. Lowering his hand gently, his fingers scratched the top of Balto’s head, onyx eyes closing for a moment. A moment, because as the cool shadows traced the raised fur at the back of Balto’s neck, he sunk his sharp canines into Azriel’s hand.

“Bloody menace,” Azriel snarled pushing Balto off of his lap and nudging him away with his boot. His shadows hissing as if they too had been bitten.

He inhaled a deep breath, gazing to the beams of the ceiling. Three days, he had three days to figure out how to manage a winter fox. It was the first time he’d been left alone with Balto, you were always here and when you wasn’t, the fox trailed after Nesta. Another warm lap to fall asleep in the library.

A white bushy tail flicked around the gap of the door, tapping claws against the hallway tiles merging with Cassian’s heavy footsteps. He shouldered Azriel’s office door open and stumbled through, Balto walking in between his steps.

“Well hello Balto,” Cassian chuckled, he leant down and petted the fox’s head, a little too roughly that he pushed back against his palm. “He’s probably hoping I’ll take him to Ness,” he said straightening up and meeting Azriel’s narrowed eyes.

“He likes you,” Azriel said, his brow furrowing at the thought. Why didn’t he like him?

Cassian fell into the chair opposite, tapping his lap in invitation and too Azriel’s surprise the fox leapt into Cassian’s lap and curled up, head tipped back as he tried to lick the hovering hand above him.

“He likes my scent because it’s merged with my mate that he adores,” Cassian said scratching under Balto’s chin. “I know that look brother, only time will help.”

Mate. Azriel couldn’t understand why Balto had never warmed to him, even after the mating ceremony when your scent entwined with his. Balto should be seeking him out for comfort, but it was the opposite.

“Are you going to the mountains? Check up on the training there?” Azriel tapped his fingers on the desk, hand dropping as Cassian’s gaze found the bloody teeth marks there.

“Yes…” Cassian smirked, large hands framing Balto’s face, a tinge of pink on his white fur near his canines telling enough.

“Good,” Azriel nodded, “take him with you.”

A deep laugh shook Cassian’s chest, Balto pawing the spot. “I can’t take him to the mountain, there’s no snow right now. He’d stick out and become dinner for who knows what.” A smirk tugged his lips, he was enjoying this too much.

“At least let him roam around the house with you, I’ve got all this still to do,” Azriel said, straightening the papers beside him which were all out of order thanks to Balto.

“Fine, but just an hour. I’m sure you’ll come find him when it’s up,” Cassian called over his shoulder. Balto chasing him out the door without another glance in Azriel’s direction.

He glanced down to his lap, long white fur stuck to his dark trousers and clumped together as he tried to brush it off.

One hour turned into three as he pushed through the work on his desk. His shadows were oddly calm, no interruptions since Cassian had bid him goodbye.

He wondered how you were doing in the dawn court. Much of your work involved smoothing over alliances between friendly courts, words being more powerful than weapons in your line of work. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, you’d been fighting monsters in the winter mountains your whole life until you’d met Azriel. Then you started to think more smarter, how you could still serve winter and live with him in Velaris. The diplomatic position giving you the best of both worlds.

Your absence seemed to be a sore spot for Balto, the longing sinking into him too as he watched the fox huff and puff all day. It hadn’t even been a day and he was wishing you were here.

Balto, he hadn’t seen since. He pushed out of his chair and blew the flame out from the lantern. He aimlessly walked the house of wind, shadows peeling away from him to squeeze under the doors and check for the fox.

The faintest of whimpers echoed down the hallway. Dark wisps struck his chest, but he pushed through them till he found Balto curled up on an armchair in the library.

Your chair, he could still smell your scent as if he’d stepped into the winter court. Fresh snow and pine invading his senses.

Nesta leant against the chair, her head resting on the cushion as she stroked Balto’s thick fur. The book in her lap discarded, pink ribbon marking her place. She murmured the softest of words, coaxing the fox’s heavy eyes shut.

“Az.” Nesta clicked her tongue and turned to him still looming in the doorway. “Poor things missing her, what have you been doing with Balto?” She raised a brow, as if she could see through the thick leather of his glove hiding the teeth marks on his hand.

“He bit me,” he blurted out, unsure why he needed to tell her. “I don’t know why he won’t warm to me.” His shoulders drooped, wings tucking behind him. The weight of a whimpering Balto pressing down on him, another reminder that you weren’t here. You always knew what to do.

The many times you’d crawled under the bed and calmed Balto, stayed until he felt safe enough to come out of his hiding space. Or when he’d be snarling and snapping, your silent presence sitting on the floor as you waited for Balto to come to you. As if teaching Balto that he had a choice, no forcing or punishing for feeling an emotion as big as fear.

You’d told him before that Balto had gone missing in the winter mountains when you were a child and it changed him. The only person he fully trusted and didn’t bite was you. There were many similarities to you and Balto.

“I will watch him for a while, go finish your reports,” Nesta said, voice soft and gentle like the hand smoothing Balto’s fur.

Azriel spent the rest of the day compiling reports and tidying his desk. The darkness crept in around him, the small lamp snuffing out beside him as the wick was nothing but ashes.

He flexed his hand, deep teeth marks now a scratch after a few hours of healing. His shadows whispered in his ear, echoing Balto’s name.

At times his shadows were no better than the fox, chasing its tail and whistling in Balto’s ear. He tried his best not to let the dark wisps monitor the foxes movements, but a few strays did what they wanted and watched.

When Azriel finally got back to his bedroom, a furry mound was curled on the bed. Sometimes Balto liked to sleep at the bottom of the bed by your feet, but he’d never slept on it without you.

He changed into his night clothes and slid into bed, trying not to pull the blanket from underneath Balto’s snoring form.

“Just for tonight,” Azriel whispered, smoothing his palm along Balto’s curved spine.

·•✦•·

Azriel’s body felt heavy as he dragged himself along the hallway. Wings skimming the walls as if they were trying to keep him upright. The pounding in his head amplified as he pushed his palm against his bedroom door.

In the middle of the bed, Balto’s teeth locked on a pillow, Azriel’s. He growled, shaking it in his hold.

“Balto!” Azriel didn’t mean to shout, the ache of his muscles whining as he raised his voice.

The day he’d had, checking on his contacts for intel went completely south and he ended up taking things into his own hands. The last scrap of patience falling away as feathers ripped from his pillow.

It was only supposed to be a couple of hours, but it turned into nine. The second day almost over.

Balto dropped the pillow as Azriel went to tug it. Pointed ears pushing back and head dipping, tail tucked between his legs.

Azriel stilled, blood coating his hands and staining the lilac pillow he clutched. “Balto,” he said, low and soft. His knees sinking on the mattress as he reached out slowly.

Dark wisps danced with the feathers floating in the air around Azriel, but his gaze was fixed on Balto.

In moments like this, it reminded Azriel of you. The way you used to snap at everyone who tried to reach out for you. Afraid that if you accepted that hand, you’d get hit by it later. Cold and detached, one letter answers so that no one could ask too much of you.

“It’s okay boy,” Azriel said, stopping as Balto scrambled backwards. He lifted his hands and rose from the bed, walking back to the bathroom. He opened the closet door on his way, knowing Balto would seek refuge in the layers of chunky knitwear that smelled of you.

Space, that’s what he’d give Balto. The blood and grime marring his flesh and leathers wasn’t helping. So he’d clean himself up, hope that the lingering scent of you would help him calm a frightened Balto.

He removed his weapons, setting them on the counter gently trying to make as little sound as possible. Pulling off his fighting leathers, he let them fall to the tiled floor and kicked them out of the way.

The harsh water beating against his back soothed his aching muscles. Azriel watched the red water spin down the drain until it was clear. He scrubbed every inch of his flesh, it was no wonder Balto was scared. He hadn’t realised how terrifying he looked. That and the fox’s heightened scent did not help his case.

Azriel pulled on some clothes and exited the bathroom, out of the corner of his eye he found Balto peeking through the folded jumpers in the closet. He stripped the bed and scooped up the feathers, stuffing them in a new pillow case and tying a knot in the end.

The three days were nearly up, only a few hours left till morning. Azriel put new sheets on the bed and tossed the old ones in the basket. He opened the other closet door and pulled out his winter coat, Balto following his every movement.

Balto nipped Azriel’s hand as his fingers traced the folded jumpers. A smile tugging his lips as he scratched under Balto’s chin. Space seemed to be the best remedy for Balto.

“I know, you miss her. So do I,” Azriel said, leaning against the shelves of the closet. “Let’s go meet her in winter, what do you say boy?”

Balto lunged out of the closet and landed on Azriel’s shoulder, paws trailing along his back as he dropped to the floor. His tail curling around one of Azriel’s legs waiting for him.

Scooping Balto up from the floor, he place the fox in his bag. The one you normally carried in when you winnowed to winter with Balto. He settled into the fur lined bag, huffing as Azriel tried to push his busy tail in the bag too.

He’d never travelled with Balto through the planes of darkness. Too afraid the fox would leap out and he’d never be able to find him. But he needed this as much as Balto, the open space of the winter mountains was somewhere that reminded them of you.

The strap hung from his neck and he clutched it to his chest, shielding Balto’s eyes as he snapped his wings into flight. As soon as he was able to travel, he let the darkness wrap around him and guide him to the winter court. His fingers stroked Balto’s head, a part of him checking he was still there.

The crunch of snow beneath his boots and the howling bitter wind welcomed him in winter. Balto jumped out of the bag and dove into the crisp white snow. Azriel couldn’t help but smile as he watched the fox tunnel underneath, jumping on the untouched snow and disappearing.

Azriel spent all morning walking the mountains, Balto trailing not far behind him. They checked in on your cabin, both napping by the fire and eating lunch. A kind patroller offering him soup, after seeing the smoke from the chimney.

Balto lay in front of the fire, pointed nose resting between his paws. His ears dropped back and pressed down into the tuft of fur. He crept forward on his stomach, pausing as a pesky wisp skimmed over his head.

To anyone else they’d think Azriel was still in a deep slumber, he leaned into the rhythmic deep breaths and let his hand drop to the floor. Balto stopping once again, before he inched closer and closed the distance.

A warmth nudged Azriel’s hand, his shadows telling him of the furry friend out of his eye-line. Balto licked the back of Azriel’s hand, tongue swiping the faint teeth marks he’d given him a couple of days ago.

“Thanks, boy,” Azriel said, his palm tapping the top of Balto’s head. “Why don’t we go find our favourite person.” He rose from the sofa and pulled on his coat.

Balto yapped in agreement, darting to the open door as fast as a lightning bolt. Azriel couldn’t keep up with furry blur, snow too deep as the fox burrowed underneath it.

Every now and then he’d catch a glimpse of Balto leaping up out of the snow and trying to chase a bird. Whenever you finished your duties for winter, Azriel would meet you there if he wasn’t away working. It’s times like this that he savours the cold. Reminds him of you.

He feels the charge of energy between you before he sees you. In your absence the heat is unbearable that he longs for the cool touch against his burning flesh.

You slide your arms around his waist and tucked yourself under his arm. “Did you give him winter berries?” You asked peering up at him as he kissed your forehead.

“No,” he said pulling away from you, “should I have?”

“Gods no, we’d never be able to catch him.”

This has been in my head since I did the winter read headcanons

[geniemillies]

I JUST REALIZED I NEED TO MASSPRODUCE ART THIS MONTH BC I'M GOING ON VACATION AND CAN'T DRAW 💥😫💥😫💥😫

[surielstea]

Puppy Love

Eris week day two: Childhood

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x WinterCourt!Reader

Summary: Reader and Eris adventure beyond their courts borders to go hunting in the secluded, evergreen forest.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff | adolescent Eris is a force to be reckoned with.

2.5k words.

The crisp, cold air fogged in front of my mouth as I let out a relishing breath. Officially winter, the season sacred to my Court. I nearly giggled with delight as my boots crunched in the snow, the sweet sound putting a beaming smile on my face.

I was on my trek towards the Autumn Court border, where I'd meet with Eris. Vanserra, a young lord and the sole heir of the Autumn Throne, though rumor has it that the Lady of Autumn was pregnant with another.

Eris and I met last year when he scared off my prey with his loud steps, I practically growled in his face but he only stared at me wide-eyed with flushed cheeks— and then I realized he had never met a girl who wasn't tripping over themselves in attempt to charm him, a young handsome lord would be any Court Lady's dream. That day he had claimed he didn't know what he was doing, that his father sent him out here with some fancy arrows and told him to bring back dinner. I gave him my harvest that day and he demanded I teach him how to hunt, and we've met every morning since.

"I hate the cold," The young lord grumbled, his reddened nose awfully adorable and destroying his facade of distaste.

"Of course you do, Lordling." I sigh. "Accustomed to a life of warm meals and crackling fireplaces," I drone on as I approach him, my white fur cloak blending in with the blinding snow.

His lip curled. "You're a princess, you're accustomed to that too."

I shrug. "Yes but I, unlike you, don't whine when the weather isn't to my liking," I hum with a snarky smile.

He deadpanned. "If I recall, five months ago you were moaning and groaning about the heat." He retorted and my smile fell.

"Well then," I click my tongue. He looks down at the basket in my hands, his brow raised.

"This is a gift for you, for our one-year friend anniversary." I hum and hold the wicker basket out to him, the blanket over it shifting with movement. He looked at it curiously, as if whatever was inside might bite his hand off.

"Friend zoned? After all my efforts of attempting to enchant you?" He says, taking the basket from me. I give him an incredulous look. He knew it'd never work, that the Prince with fire in his veins and Princess of ice and snow could never be together, forever opposing courts. No matter how badly I wished for that fact to change.

"Just, open it." I push the basket into his hand and he takes it, a sniffling snout peaking out from beneath the blanket. Eris looked at me slightly alarmed but I only gave him an encouraging smile. He sighs and flips back the rest of the blanket, revealing a pup with a gray coat, his tail wagging excitedly at the sight of his new owner.

"Where did you get this?" He looked at me with alarmed confusion and I rolled my eyes.

"My uncle gifted him to me on solstice, but we don't have the right environment to train and take care of him," I took the pup from his basket and cradled him in my arms, he chuffed and attempted to lick my cheek.

"He's a hunting dog, a smoke hound to be exact," I explain and hand him to Eris, who holds the dog like he was an alien.

"I know what he is. Do you understand what you're giving away?" He raises a brow. Smokehounds were the best breed in Prythian, not only that but this was a pure breed, so rare that even one was extremely difficult to come by. I knew the Autumn Court had prized them, and I could think of no one more deserving than the young lord who had snuck his way into my frozen heart this past year.

"Yes, very aware." I smile.

"I can't accept him, any of this," He shakes his head and puts the dog back into the basket, and attempts to hand it back to me.

"But look, he's already so attached to you,"  I argue with adoring eyes as the pup licks at Eris's ringed fingers.

"Let him hunt with us today, and then we'll decide who he goes home with." I place the basket down and watch as the hound spills out of it, trotting through the deep snow. His thick coat kept him warm, and his tongue lolling out was enough to say he was happy to be outside rather than trapped in my castle, to be doing what he was born to.

"Fine," Eris sighed, then grabbed his bow from his back. I did the same with mine. We followed the dog through the forest, allowing him to lead us as he tracked an invisible scent that even our fae senses couldn't pick up. His long ears nearly dragged through the snow as he trudged forward.

"What will you name him?" I ask softly, my voice quiet in fear of scaring off any prey.

"You can name him," Eris grumbled, showing only disinterest in the dog. I'd find it rude if I didn't know him better than that. He was trying to let it not get to him, he had never received such a meaningful gift for no real reason. He didn't like the warm feeling in his chest that he had never quite been able to control.

"Come on," I groan. "At least bounce ideas with me?" I suggest but he ignores me and I stop in my tracks, staring at him and sheathing my arrow back in its quiver.

He halted too after realizing I had stopped and turned to me with a raised brow.

"Why do you do this," I sigh.

"Do what?" He slings his bow over his shoulder.

"Deny any form of admiration I try to give you?" I stride closer, only a pace but enough to send him a message.

He stayed silent, only swallowing thickly as a reply. "It's a hound, Princess. I appreciate it but it's too grand of a gesture—" He begins to argue after a moment but I cut him off.

"This isn't about the dog." I shake my head. "Why do you refuse to let me you let me love you?" My brows crease and he bristles at my wording, but that is what it was, isn't it? That warm feeling he couldn't control that twisted him into knots, it was love, and he was terrified of it.

"Because I don't feel the same." He wills himself to say and a twinge of pain cracks through my heart but I remain strong.

"Liar," I snarl. "What are you so afraid of?" I take another step forward, so close that if I reached out, I could grab his hand in mine.

He shrugs and looks to the side, at the long line of evergreen trees that were more free than him, rooted into the frozen soil but still, alive and thriving. Far more than he'd ever be while chained to a throne. "Eris," I whisper and he shudders at the way I say his name. It was too intimate, it held none of the malice it often did when his father spat it, only heavy with adoration and guilt. "Eris look at me," I say and he steels his features, because my eyes were too much for him to bear, the eyes of the female he loves, and that horrifies him, because he cannot fool or trick me when I stare at him with those all-seeing eyes, cannot attempt to plot or ensnare when I look at him like that.

"I'm afraid of my father finding out," He confesses. "Terrified that if he discovers that something other than power makes me happy, he'd destroy it." His voice was as pure and raw as the fresh snow beneath our feet.

"We're seventeen, we shouldn't have to worry about that—" I begin but it was his turn to cut me off.

"But we're not normal kids, we will never be normal kids." He reached out and cupped my cheeks, and despite the negative temperatures, his palms were warm and soothing against my icy skin. "And I can't risk you."

"I'm a princess of my court, sole heir to the Winter Throne. To hurt me would be an act of war, he cannot touch me." I claim.

"No, but he will find a way. He will cleave us and tear us apart until you hate me." He claims and I frown.

"That will never happen." I shake my head, refusing the idea of ever hating the male that stood in front of me.

"Won't it?" His hands on my face press firmer, stressing his point. "We're heirs of opposing courts, inevitably we will become enemies." He explains.

"But we could be the ones to form an alliance," A fool's dream. The autumn court was too prideful to accept any other court, and the winter court would never ally with fire bringers. "Can't we just be stupid and reckless and young, for once?" I plead. "Even for only a few moments?" I say and reach forward, gripping his tunic in my fist.

"Is that too much to ask for?" I murmur and his eyes soften.

"Far too much," He replies, his warm breath mingling with mine. "But I'm willing to give it to you," He says, his voice steady and warm like crackling embers to a recently put-out fire.

"As a friend-anniversary present?" I taunt him with a teasing smirk and he shakes his head.

"You don't know how to shut up do you?" He drawls and I smile.

"I can think of one way," I suggest, stumbling forward and his breath hitched as I rose onto my toes and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. I pulled back with a soft smile and that was enough to send him reeling. He advanced forward, his fingers singing with heat against my cheeks as his lips, finally, met mine.

It was innocent and gentle, and a little awkward, but gods was it perfect. The kiss alone heated my entire body, all the way down to my fingertips which were still clutching his green tunic. Realizing I was still gripping him I relaxed my hands and allowed them to slip up his chest, around to the nape of his neck so I could pull him closer and encase myself in his warmth while he deepened our kiss.

My stomach clenched when he pulled away, it was quick, only a moment— exactly what I had asked for. I hadn't realized I was now going to crave those moments until the end of me.

He looked at me, his cheeks flushed and I knew it wasn't the cold that tinged them. "You ruined my makeup," I say, reaching up and wiping away the smear of cosmetics on his bottom lip.

"But you look beautiful," He mumbled, too caught up in the action of me so casually touching his lips. I lift my eyes up to his gold-flecked ones and smile wickedly.

"That kiss really did a number on you," I taunt because it was the only way to stop myself from being greedy and kissing him again, and again, and again until I could recall the exact feel of his lips from memory.

He looked to the side, attempting to get rid of his blush, forget about how perfectly he slotted against you.

Then his brows bunch in concern and my spine stiffens with alarm. "What is it?" I ask, looking out towards the empty forest.

"Your dog already got lost." He grumbled and I relaxed, my shoulders slumping.

"He's your dog," I stress. "And he's not lost. He's hunting." I say proudly and Eris casts me an unbelieving glance. I smile at him and press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Come on," I take his hand in mine and drag him through the frosted-over forest. "We have to catch at least a few squirrels before leaving," I say and he mumbles a string of curses but follows me anyway.

We had been crouched behind a bush for so long now that my legs began to ache from my position. Eris was fletching an arrow leaning back against a tree, his auburn hair blending in with the trunk of the redwood. I admire his pale features, his sharp nose, and high cheekbones. His amber eyes that were flecked with gold if you were close enough to notice. I was just about to blurt something foolish about how handsome he was, when the crunch of snow sent my ears peeking up.

Eris froze too, becoming alert and peering over the side of the tree as I drew my arrow from its quiver and nocked it against my bowstring. The sound of steps comes from behind, straight at us, growing faster.

I whirl around and aim at the grey creature bounding towards Eris.

The smokehound pup trotted towards him with a limp rabbit in his maw. The hound chuffs then drops it at Eris' feet as an offering. "Aw, he's brought you a gift," I beam wildly. "You should turn the rabbit into jerky and treat him with it. He'd love that," I say while patting the pup's dark coat.

His gaze lingers on you for a long moment, analyzing your gentle features when you look at the dog. "Maybe I will," He mutters and I look over to him with a soft smile. "I think we're done for the day," I say and stand upright, stretching my legs as I do so. He does the same, the pup looking up at him with his tail wagging excitedly. Eris bent down and patted the dog's head and the hound began running circles around the both of us.

Eris shakes his head with feigned annoyance. I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him forward, right into me. His arms wrapped around my waist on instinct, stabilizing himself with his hands planted on my torso— and even through all the layers of clothing, I could feel the warmth emanating from him. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, right?" I tilt my head up at him and he nods with a soft smile.

"Mhm, bring Flynt," I say and he raises his brows.

"Is that his name, now?" He asks, looking down at the dog weaving between us happily.

"You said I could pick," I shrug innocently and his smile grows.

"Flynt it is," He nods, then leans forward and places a soft, precious kiss on my forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Princess." He whispers against my frosty skin and I nod, taking a wobbly step back and turning away towards my Court before I got the idea in my head that I could find us an empty cabin to live in until we were old and rotting.

I don't bother with goodbyes and continue my march towards the Mountain Home. But I did look back, just once, to see Eris and his new obedient pet walking alongside each other back towards the realm of crackling bonfires and falling leaves.

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[gideoff]

mr.prince of the winter court (i took my pc and turned him into a plothook npc and i am not sorry for the dramatic gay disaster he became)

this was an attempt to design him some archfey of wintercourt outfit

[lunatic-fandom-space]

You know what its past midnight Im gonna make a post critisising acotar despite never having the read the series, the only book of SJMs ive actually read was crescent city but I spend a lot of time in anti acotar circles bc its fun being a little hater sometimes and I think I know enough by now to atleast critise some of the themes. I definitely know more about this series than I should, like I know about that immortal horse whose horse wife tragically died in horse childbirth and then Im pretty sure he died of horse sadness. And yet, despite cari can read being pretty good at explaining magic shit, I still dont know what the hell syphons are or why illyrians have them or why they matter so you really never stop learning huh

Anyway, I wanted to talk about the misogyny within the universe of acotar because its really bad, both in the sense that its just annoying and insufferable to read about even second-hand and in the sense that its badly written. The thing that inspired this was this short piece of flashfiction by @feynessupremacy about an unnamed girl from the hewn city being married off and having a horrible time living in this endless cycle of misogynistic abuse that her mom is still in and that her dauggters will end up in, all powerless to do anything against this kind of systemic sexism. I thought it was good and made its intended point pretty well but it also made me once again realize how borderline comical this series portrayal of misogyny is

Like, okay, once again, I have not read these books myself but it very much seems like the sexism in this world just materialized in the second book, from the summaries Ive watched it straightup seems like it was just not there in the first book. I mean hell, the entire plot hinges on the fact that Tamlin was sending all these fae disguised as fucked up creatures out so that they would hopefully be killed by a woman so she could break the curse, which implies that women being hunters was pretty normal. (Also, dont come at me with any kind of "oh, it doesnt specify the gender of the person who needs to break the curse a guy couldve done it as well", sjm is too insufferably heteronormative to consider that)

So basically what Im saying is, from my perspective it very much seems like sjm put not only systemic misogyny but like, incredibly violent systemic misogyny to the point where women being brutalized is basically completely normal, in her fantasy series for the sake of making a man look good because hes a wittle sad :( about it sometimes which is honestly pretty funny to me

But it gets even funnier because it doesnt even seem like sexism is really a widespread thing ? Like, i have never seen anyone else directly address this but its all I can think about: in the Nightcourt, the misogyny and institutionalized violence against women is literally the worst it possibly can be with genital mutilation and everything and then in the rest of Prythian its just like, not there. There are plenty of women with political power, the queen of adriada comes to mind first, Im pretty sure I read something about a woman from the wintercourt who was in a similar position of power, its unclear to me what all these fuckin priestesses do because theres no focus on the religion at all much less the institution(s) behind that religion, but they have to have some kind of power if theyre anything like priests in our world (although tbh they seem more like nuns to me functionally just with a diffrent name), especially Ianthe who was like a high priestess and directly in charge of Feyre, who shouldve been the most powerful woman in the springcourt by virtue of being with the high lord, Amren and Mor seem to be well respected outside of the NightCourt, their only deity is the MOTHER. Sure, there arent any "official" High Ladies but if being a High Lord entails being chosen by the magic of the land or The Cauldron or The Mother or whatever other kind of magic bullshit and women just dont get to have it for some reason, is that really indicative of the broader culture being sexist, or is that just God, Who Canonically Exists being sexist? Idk about you, but Im leaning towards the latter option

Thats not even mentioning the mortal lands which seem to be ruled by queens exclusively at the time of the story taking place, or Hybern which had Amarantha and I think her sister as well be these high-ranking generals and it wasnt presented as anything unusual. Like, are you telling me that the kingdom whose only value is "we love slavery, we would like to have slavery back" is more progressive than the court of fuckin Feminist King Rhysand?? I Am Going To Turn Into The Joker

Anyway, I think thats all I have to say, please correct me if I got any of this information wrong I cannot stress enough that I have not read these books and dont plan on reading them anytime soon, atleast not in english because reading the term mate a 1000 times sounds like too much for me to bear, atleast in german theyll probably use a term like "Gefährte/in" which doesnt make me think of actual animals

[stormhearty]

@prythianpages thank you for the tag! ☺️❤️

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIP's

1. I'm Yours

2. Light to his Shadows

3. Bleeding Crowns Part 2

4. Burning Hearts

5. Daffodils and Asters

6. Azriel x WinterCourt!Reader

7. The Archer by Taylor Swift?: Cassian x reader

8. Just Like Her

I have... quite a few. Oh gosh.

No pressure tags: @websterss @thesunloveschips @assriels @lees-chaotic-brain @daycourtofficial

[shardssystem]

Lore24 Compilation- August

If last month wasn’t enough of a clue, August is when I really started leaning into the awful names for themed months. After exploring some mechanical options in terms of items, I wanted to pivot back to what I consider more of a strength in narrative. So with that, please enjoy a month of notable NPCs, or the PeopleWorthKnowingAboutgust.

I’m not sorry.

1 - Mistress Atonement is one of the community leaders of Janapin, guiding her fellow Tieflings through meditative martial arts. Despite being blind, her honed senses allow her a manner of compensation to make her way around the city. There are rumours that she ventures out at night to commit crimes, but there is no evidence, and her followers staunchly deny the claims.

2 - Despite his youth, Atalta Iselienon is the Guildmaster of Nuvain’s Runner’s guild at 14 years old. Primarily staffed by orphans or others looking for work despite the pay, the half-elf manages contracts on their behalf; ensuring security for those under his purview as they take small messenger tasks around the city deemed not worth hiring a member of the Messenger’s Guild, or the Courier’s Guild. Atalta is active in training and his charge’s progress.

3 - One of many gladiators that sought their fame in the Colosseum of Nonjasseum, Milenrothe is a brass scaled dragonborn, who after retirement, advocates for her fellow fighters to be cared for in their life after the arena. She lives in isolation due to an accident during her career, leading her to be the focus of random magical effects. Surrendering the Blaze of Glory cloak remains one of her greatest regrets, though she accepts the reasoning.

4 - Griss Brownfeather is known around Umpton as the chief crab handler of the city. Though officially employed by the Mint, he offers his services to a number of farms and breeders in the area, as well as the city stable and those smaller ones attached to inns. People have often asked why, as an Aarakocra, he chooses to associate with crabs, instead of reveling in his ability to fly, like most of his fellows. His answer? “I just think they’re neat!”

5 - Shi’a’nè is, or at least was as of last contact, the surface representative of the dolphinfolk of Gomun. They bear a small mark near their dorsal fin, though many surface dwellers confess difficulties in telling the dolphinfolk apart, even with distinct reminders. Since Gomun’s self-imposed exile and closing of the borders of the city, Shi’a’nè has not been seen, despite many nations attempting to reestablish communications.

6 - Orland Birulandi is the current serving Mayor of Sikado, the city known for its builders and other tradespeople. His grand project for the first of the two years he will be in office is the construction of a combination boathouse and shipyard, with the hopes that the rest of the citizenry will see the benefit of using it as a potential source of trade and revenue with other nations instead of recycling it in the second year, as is tradition.

7 - Jadan Wintercourt is a travelling bard and storyteller from the Brightfields. One of the Eladrin fairfolk, they make their living by trading food and lodgings for tales from their homeland and liege lord. Most requested of the shorter tales include “Nightmare Of Elm Keep”, “Stark’s War”, and “EP: The Extra-Planar Entity”. Longer tales include “The Thompsons”, “W*A*M*H*”, and “William and Gracelyn”. All have been adapted from fairfolk stage plays.

8 - Serving as Commander of the Sentinel Battalion of Dun, Lasyrite Fwhlsu is a retired frontline soldier. Her Dwarven ancestry is proudly displayed in both her efforts, and among select units designated to show her house emblem. A magical mishap left her afflicted with a form of lycanthropy that she manages well, with the assistance of the Sentinel forces. She is careful not to overwork her body as it is partially transformed into a construct.

9 - One of the many unfortunates of Inssè, Snakehunger stands out by the virtue of being one of the uncommonly seen Goliaths in the city. Though he survives by eking out a rough life on the streets and begging, he has said he prefers it to being isolated from the streets. Despite his impressive, and given his lifestyle, puzzling physique, he finds ways through enough places and meetings to hold a wealth of information and rumours of the twin cities.

10 - Darastrix is a blue-scaled Dragonborn who works in the Port Pinako harbour. Once a year, they hold a fundraiser for the Tortle museum, as they are an aficionado of the history of the now-extinct seafaring race. Despite the admiration, and their location, they have a fear of the ocean, and struggle with sea-sickness. One day, they hope to see a foreign land, but understand that travel is currently not an easy option.

11 - Vigo Banksi is the captain of the trade vessel "Sink Me, I Dare You!". Many people have questioned his choice of name, but for the length of his career, others of his peers have suffered losses from storm or pirates, while he has managed to endure. He claims the nickname "Indomitable" for himself, but in private, some bitter ex-sailors call him "Stubborn" instead. When they're not straight up insulting him, of course.

12 - Groan is one of the primary caretakers of the Remote Majesty Resort in Wichi. Though limited in his speech as a Kenku, he evidently spent an amount of time in or at the gladiator arena of Nonjasseum, as a disproportionate amount of his repertoire consists of the sounds of combat and amplified announcements. Despite the quirks, he goes out of his way to ensure that the resort is well known for treating its guests well.

13 - Arey Nisha is one of many Gasworks Safety Technicians within Dun. With the decay of manasteel devices and infrastructure during the Fall, the city, and now capital, decided to switch back to older forms of energy, helped in large parts by the ease of Citadel scavenging. As a kobold, Arey can squeeze into smaller spaces his compatriots struggle with, making him a de-facto expert on the repairs of potentially lethal gas leaks along the lines.

14 - In the twinned city of Aguè, the unspoken rule is that everyone serves a hidden master to gain power. So by making a point to defy convention, Carac Cartolano is known for more than just being one of the bigger gang leaders. Though only human, he manages to hold his own in brawls for contention by the other residents of the city, primarily inhabited by aasimar with no real alternative. Rumours say he is weakening from an unknown illness.

15 - An early explorer of the effects of the mysterious aura of Cinera, Sucloni Nema, a Genasi of air, now resides in Chidabo, researching and studying altered items. Incidentally, this includes herself, as she stayed on the island long enough to have the monochromatic effect transferred to her being. As one of the experts by duration of exposure, she pays handsomely for authentic information, but hesitates to recommend adventurers embark there for her sake.

16 - Yi Shades, one of the residents of the Gnomish enclave in Nuvain, within the district of The Shades. Inheriting the position of the leader of a drug cartel, she runs her subordinates hard in order to accomplish what she can in her shorter natural lifespan. With the metaphorical clock already winding down, Yi is starting to get desperate to find a proper successor to the position, to avoid the chaotic power struggle aftermath of her departure.

17 - Edenite Keipl owns one of the smaller ranches in the province of Gylead. Not many know how old he actually is, but his Dwarven beard shows excessive wear for the youth that some have suspected from his actions. Choosing to focus on dinosaur rearing rather than mining for and refining oil might not have been the most financially stable choice, but it’s one that Edenite is happy with.

18 - Juitalgor is the current Impresario of the Prestige Amphitheater of Muchen. They inherited the position after their sire, Lian Pobari, devoted their life’s work to patronising the theatrical arts. Some who claim to be more “pure minded” question the ability of a Plasmoid to serve the community in the art world. In order to silence the critics, they plan on commissioning a great opera, reminiscent of the glory days, pre-Fall.

19 - Camilla Tomaselli is a Premedico on the island of Paana-Dûl, one of the many human practitioners of healing. She complains of a lack of visualisation, so chooses to focus her arts on external injuries. Since this often isn’t the sole cause of the wide range of malady or affliction, she clashes with her fellows over patient care and efficiency of usage of the rare healing crystals salvaged from the draconic corpse towards the island’s centre.

20 - Madji is a Goblin of no fixed abode. Traditionally, this form of address would be used for either the unfortunates who live on the streets, or for travelling trade caravans. Madji earns the distinction by his choice of home: A converted ship with a traditional house attached instead of the expected shape of a ship. He claims his pillbug-esque body is the key to withstanding the ocean waves, but experienced sailors say the house itself is the bigger issue.

21 - One of the servants of The Watcher On High, Delemmak Chiura heads the Janapin chapter of the cult. One of the elves, he is known among the reclusive tieflings by his distinctive red-tinted plumage, as if stained by blood. As a member of the cult of The Watcher, his main role is to facilitate charitable events to raise money and awareness for these in need. Delemmak’s current focus is improving the lifestyles of those suffering in the Twin Cities.

22 - “Loveless” Lavinia Di Noto is the leader of one of the bandit gangs roaming the King’s Road from Danis. Despite the nickname, she is happily married. Gossipers suggest the nickname’s origin is from the belief that the marriage is one of convenience rather than love, as Lavinia’s husband is enlisted in the Dun guardsmen, causing a conflict of interest in the event of her capture or arrest. She runs her gang with an iron fist.

23 - Shari Whitpeth takes her role as one of Wichi’s guides and pathfinders very seriously. Her Dwarven heritage allows her to withstand some of the effects of the adverse weather conditions, though it does not grant her immunity. Her life’s goal is to one day travel past the northern limits, and draw her own map of what lies beyond. Failing that, she insists that a good mead will suffice for the interim.

24 - Cliffdive is a kenku artisan that plies her trade within the town of Nonjasseum. Originally planning to be a champion gladiator, it became swiftly apparent that her skills were lacking to say the least. However, she is talented with painting and other arts, and has taken inspiration from the noble fighters around to create a collectable card game, so she might fight vicariously. People gossip that her name comes from her signature cry of victory.

25 - Mirik, a blue scaled Dragonborn, operates one of the many printing presses within Umpton. Though his innate abilities don’t make much of an impact in his day-to-day life, he has had to use his imposing physique to safeguard the secrets of the printing press. Though blinded in an industrial accident, he manages with the aid of a tipped cane, sweeping and tapping as he goes, years of experience guiding his steps. Mirik prefers printing books to money.

26 - Steadfast is a warforged based out of Danis, where they claim to be the greatest detective in the world. Granted, their success rate seems to back up that claim. But from solving the all-too frequent murder cases in the city to finding lost (usually stolen) property, some are suspicious of their methods; even going as far as to declare that Steadfast themself is the perpetrator of the crimes only to then reap the rewards of “solving” them.

27 - Angelique Arata is a demure, diminutive, and delightful aasimar. On the outside. Past the surface, she is one of the more sadistic creatures to find residence in Agùe. Primarily working as an enforcer for one of the many gangs in the city, very few people know that she also serves the Commune of the Voices. In return for delivering pain and accomplishing their tasks, the Voices afford her a supernatural strength, allowing her to keep up with her peers.

28 - Subject #491 is a fascinating topic. Deep within the wards of Paana-Dûl, an unindentified male Goliath sleeps. Counter to all belief, record logs and evidence says that 491 has been on the island since before the Day of Folly. Which means he has outlived the standard lifespan of his kin. Attempts to probe into his mind or wake him fail. Occasionally, 491 sleepwalks, performing some unknown activity in an unconscious state.

29 - Joy is a tiefling that ran afoul of one of the servants of The Absent King while exploring the world. Though she escaped with her life, she did not escape unscathed. Missing an eye, and one of her horns, she suffers a curse that compels her to help with any task she hears about. Under the King’s Authority of Nodoye, she carries a letter of forgiveness should she be compelled to commit crimes against her will, to be repaid by the crown.

30 - Paws For Consideration is one of the Tabaxi that make their homes within the Jungles of Wheng. She works primarily as a scout and enforcer for the clans hidden away in their tropical cities. Recently, Paws has made a habit of travelling between the settlements to try and broaden her knowledge, even if it remains amongst her own people. On one of her trips, she discovered a bird that seemingly dies every morning and revives every night.

31 - Kale Yewguard monitors trade across the Daylen river. It's not the busiest route in the world, but it sees enough that he rarely complains. Using his natural centaur endurance, he is able to keep up with people that try to flee from inspection and toll payment. Kale's reputation as an honourable sort and person who can't be bribed is unfortunately known amongst the crime families that would prefer to use the river.

[rache1auren]

As someone who has studied international relations/law and has a degree in political science— I wholeheartedly agree.

Honestly the high lords meeting was such a disaster on the NCs part. One of the key components when going into any diplomatic meeting is to understand the conflict. Feyre knew nothing of court politics or issues. Had no idea about the wintercourt children. She didn’t have the necessary info to make informed arguments or decisions. They did no investigations of the new High Lords that we know of, we see no briefing of information regarding the current situation in the Day Court, Winter Court, Summer Court with all these new High Lords.

The NC came to the meeting with very little to offer other than their own “truth” with little to no proof other than their own insistence. They went to the meeting with no long term goals or plans, no plan for HOW they would all work together. It was the Wintercourt that brought up the children killed, it was Tamlin that came with actual concerns and I formation regarding the enemy and war. Helion was the one to assess the information and create a plan. Heck even Thesan came with a countermeasure to a major problem they were facing with.

Meanwhile the Night Court came with an ENTIRE entourage, more than any other court, even Thesan who was hosting the meeting. They were specifically trying to intimidate other courts which is contrary to their goals of trying to create an alliance. They responded to verbal attacks with physical violence. Ot is essential that when you are in diplomatic negations that you are assertive BUT NOT AGGRESSIVE.

Imagine if the US president and the vice president along with their guard, just outright attacked other members at a UN meeting because they had an argument? Would that EVER be acceptable? Especially if the US needed help from the other countries? Obviously no.

Feyre attacked not only Beron but also hurt the High lady. Rhysand stripped Tamlin of bodily control and autonomy. Cassian was constantly interrupting high lords and other key diplomats, Azriel attacked a diplomat/son of the High Lord and disobeyed an order from his ruler and had to be coaxed off his victim by another of his rulers. Sure it was entertaining but it was an utter failure in conduct. And a bit embarrassing for Feyre to have to get a 500 year old Fey to control his temper and anger over a comment made. It literally goes against the the terms of the truce/bargain magic that presides over the meeting. Imagine making a promise and repeatedly breaking it the entire time while trying to gain the other attendants trust.

The ONLY thing of substance the Nigh Court contributed to the meeting was calling it in the first place and then Nestas speech and pleading to their empathetic side and greater good. Reminding them of their common enemy and what they stood to gain/lose in the upcoming war. She made them realize that neutrality was not an option and stood witness to the power and depravity of Hybern.

I’m not sure if this is a lack of SJMs understanding of politics or if she just wanted to dramatize things but it came of as reflecting really poorly on the Night Court. And this happens in almost all of their political based situations.

Why Feyre as High Lady Could Lead to the Night Court's Downfall (Or, How to Ruin a Court in 10 Easy Steps) comming from someone who is planning to study international relations and whos whole family is quite familiar with it:

Look, we all love Feyre. She's fierce, she's brave, and she can paint a mean flower. But let's be real: as High Lady of the Night Court, she's a Fucking diplomatic nightmare. If there were an award for "How to Piss Off Every High Lord and Their Neighboring Courts," she'd win it. Twice. Here's why Feyre's reign might just bring the Night Court crashing down faster than rhys can growl or cum to the image of his child

1. Explosive Temper and Poor Diplomacy Let’s talk about the High Lords meeting in A Court of Wings and Ruin. Remember that? Feyre’s blow-up at Beron wasn’t just a passionate defense—it was a major diplomatic fuck-up. Yes, Beron was being a total asshole, but diplomacy often means biting your tongue and playing the long game. Feyre's outburst could have easily cost them an alliance with the Autumn Court, potentially turning Beron into an outright enemy. With Hybern on the horizon, losing any potential allies could have been catastrophic. Instead of keeping things cool and trying to find common ground, she let her temper flare, risking everything Rhysand had worked for to keep the courts united. Feyre basically threw a damn match onto a pile of political dynamite.

2. Alienating Potential Allies Ah, the Summer Court fiasco. Remember when Feyre decided it was a good idea to steal from Tarquin? Not just any theft, but a "Hey, let's be friends—JK, I’m taking your most powerful magical artifact" kind of theft. Brilliant move. And then she had the nerve to act all shocked when Tarquin was pissed about it. "What do you mean you're mad I stole from you? We're supposed to be allies!" Gee, I wonder why Tarquin wasn’t thrilled about that little betrayal. It's like borrowing your friend's car and returning it on empty, with a dent in the side. And by "borrow," I mean grand theft auto. Feyre, maybe try not to screw over potential allies next time? Just a thought.

3. Emotional Decision-Making Feyre often lets her emotions drive her decisions. While being passionate isn't inherently bad, it becomes a problem when it overrides logic and strategy, especially in the high-stakes world of Prythian politics. The High Lords meeting is one instance, but it happens repeatedly. Her open hostility toward Tamlin, even if understandable on a personal level, didn't help the broader cause. By pushing him further away instead of seeking some form of truce, she risked driving him into Hybern's arms. A High Lady needs to think beyond personal grudges to what’s best for her people and her court, and Feyre struggles with that balance. You can't just say "screw it" and go off on people when the fate of your entire court is on the line.

4. Ignoring the Complexity of the Night Court And let's not forget the Night Court's lovely little secret: Hewn City. You know, that underground hellhole they basically keep under lock and key. Rhysand and Feyre are all "Oh, look at Velaris, it's so pretty and free!" Meanwhile, half their court is rotting in a glorified dungeon. And what's Feyre's big idea for dealing with Hewn City? Oh, right, pretend it doesn't exist. Smart. Because ignoring a potential uprising within your own court is definitely the way to keep things stable. It's like the French Revolution all over again—if the Night Court were France, then Feyre's approach is like Louis XVI ignoring the starving peasants while hosting extravagant parties. Eventually, ignoring the discontent and keeping people oppressed leads to revolution. Treating Hewn City like an inconvenient problem rather than addressing it is a recipe for disaster.

5. Undermining Rhysand’s Diplomacy Rhysand spent centuries mastering diplomacy—playing the long game, keeping everyone in check. And then comes Feyre, storming in like, "Oh, you spent centuries building these delicate alliances? Well, watch me fuck it up in five minutes." She's like that one friend who always says, "Hold my beer," right before doing something incredibly stupid. Rhys is trying to keep the court from crumbling, and Feyre's out there acting like diplomacy means "scream at the enemy until they go away." Newsflash: That’s not how this works. This isn't some street brawl where whoever yells the loudest wins. It's politics. You know, the art of not making enemies out of every living soul around you?

Conclusion Feyre's got the passion, the guts, and the fighting spirit of a warrior. But when it comes to actually leading a court? She’s like a bull in a china shop, if that bull also happened to have a grudge against every piece of porcelain in the room. Being High Lady isn’t about who's right in the heat of the moment; it's about playing the long game, keeping your people safe, and not, you know, burning bridges with every other court. If she keeps going down this path—alienating allies, ignoring the needs of half her own court, and letting emotions drive her decisions—the Night Court is in serious trouble. Feyre needs to understand that diplomacy isn’t about who can throw the best tantrum. It’s about avoiding a revolution and ensuring the stability of your people. Otherwise, the Night Court might fall not because of an external threat, but because its own leader is too busy screwing things up from the inside.

[ilexdiapason]

last rb im never gonna not be able to read wc!name as wintercourt now

[yiiyiiwrites]

❄️| Snowball fights |

Summary: Azriel enlists the help of Balto, the winter fox to try and snag the win of the annual snowball fight. (The bat boys telling you what happened on their return). Winter!reader x Balto x batboys.

[Balto fic]

[winter solstice masterlist]

The crunch of snow and the pitter and patter of claws on the decking drew your attention from your book. You marked your page and closed the cover, setting it down.

You heard Balto’s yap before he lunged into your lap, book sliding down the side of the cushions. His fur clumped with ice, but the tinge of red staining his chin and trailing down his chest had you scrambling off the chair.

“What happened, boy,” you said, kicking the knitted blanket tangling your legs and pulled your snow boots on. Balto circled your ankles, matching your steps as you walked down the pebbled path.

The coppery tang of blood grew stronger, your gaze scouring the compacted white snow in search for a red trail. Too focused on finding the source, you’re startled as a large shadowed figure loomed over you. Dark wisps invaded your vision and you sighed, leaning back against the familiar warmth and firm chest.

“Is that for me, Angel?” Azriel’s lips brushed the curve of your ear and his gloved hand trailed up your chest between your breasts. Fingers tapping the erratic beat of your heart.

“Stop copping a feel and get in the cabin!” Cassian yelled in the distance, “blizzards heading this way.”

You elbowed Azriel in the gut and spun around. “You oaf!” You snapped shoving his arm as he tried to reach for you. “Balto came back covered in blood! I thought something had happened.”

His hazel eyes soften, the deep line between his brows disappearing as he caught your flailing hands in front of him. “Everything’s fine, just a minor teething problem,” he said, his gloved hand cradling yours in his as he guided you back into the cabin.

The heat hit you as soon as you entered the hallway. You searched every inch of Azriel’s body, dipping your head to get a peek of his face. There were no signs he’d been harmed, but he was pretty good at acting like he wasn’t in pain that your assessment wasn’t helpful.

Azriel knelt down before you and untied your boots, palm cupping your calf as he helped you remove them. Your fur coat slipping down your arms, Azriel hanging it on the hook.

“What do you mean minor teething…” you didn’t need to finish your train of thought as you turned to enter the large open plan room. A gasp fell from your lips.

Cassian stood beside the dining table, blood sticking the leather to his thigh. A gaping flap of fabric hung loose and you held your hand to your nose as an earthy stench stung your nostrils the closer you got.

“Get that thing away from me,” Cassian said, pointing towards you. It wasn’t till you followed the direction of his finger did you realise he was talking about Balto.

The white fox ever so slowly padded across the room and laid down in front of the crackling fire. His head resting on his paws, onyx eyes on Cassian and tail flicking as if he was waiting to play.

“Gods what is that smell.” You fell back a step, pinching your nose and trying not to blink.

Hot breath fanned against the side of your face. “Had to make a herbal pain reliever, don’t ask,” Azriel whispered behind you, but he remained a step away that you wanted to stumble back and close the distance.

Rhys and Azriel seemed to enjoy whatever had gone on. A smirk playing on their faces, shoulders shaking as they fought back their silent chuckles.

“You lost then Cass?”

Cassian scoffed, “that bloody menace popped out of the snow and bit me.” He slapped a wet cloth to the open wound on his inner thigh. He sucked in a breath, pressing down on the tender spot and clamping his eyes shut for a second.

“You did step on his tail,” Rhys added, petting the top of Balto’s head as he collapsed into the armchair by the fire.

Balto huffed, his head turning to you and he flicked his tail as if asking for sympathy, but you raised a brow at the mischievous fox. He must have thought he was playing too.

“His jaw locked, took both of these idiots to get him off.” Cassian threw the cloth across the table, his fingers dipping into a jar of soothing balm and pasting it on the now visible teeth marks on his thigh.

“Least he didn’t jump a bit higher, brother,” Azriel chuckled, his arm draping over your shoulder as he pulled you closer. His shadows skimmed the nape of your neck and curled beneath your braided hair, the cool whip of wind making you shiver.

Rhys laughed, his gaze flicking down at Cassian’s hands guarding the sacred spot between his legs as if he expected the fox to attack on command. His wings shuddered at the thought.

“I’m sorry Cass,” you said slipping out from under Azriel’s arm and walking to Cassian. You pushed him back gently guiding him to lean against the table. You peeled back the torn fabric of his fighting leathers, fingertips close to inspecting the teeth marks, but cool wisps pushed your hand away.

It was the first time he’d bit a member of the inner circle, well apart from Azriel. Balto seemed to warm to Cassian and Nesta instantly, so you didn’t think he meant to do harm, only wanted to play in the fight like the boys.

You swatted the shadows away swarming your vision. The curved row of wounds standing out against Cassian’s bronzed skin. You winced the moment your eyes fell on the two sharp canines that still wept with blood. Those would take a day to heal, whereas the rest would be gone in a couple of hours.

“You did step on his tail,” Azriel said, pulling you back by your elbow. You smiled against his arm as it wrapped around you again and pulled you flush against him.

“Don’t know why you’re laughing,” Cassian shot back at Rhys, the flames dancing in his gaze. “Warming your cobblers? eh.”

Azriel’s chest rumbled, you felt your whole body shake with his laughter. Even cassian couldn’t keep a straight face. You glanced up at Azriel, brows furrowed as you waited for one of them to explain.

“Rhys took a swim, he tripped over Balto and slammed into the frozen lake.” Azriel smirked, a stray wisp dove for the white fox and it curled around his bushy tail. If you didn’t know any better they’d be whispering praises to the fox.

Limping to the kitchen, Cassian pulled a crate of beer out of the cooling box and set it down on the table. He threw a can to each of them and flicked his open, chasing the foam before it could roll down his hand.

“So who won then?”

The two Illyrian’s in front of you groaned, Cassian crushing his can in his hold and flinging it to the table to open another.

“I did,” Azriel said, his arm retreated from you and he fell back into the sofa. His arm hung over the back of the seat, wings twitching as he looked up at you and leant his head back. “Looks like you owe me, Angel.”

Dammit, you shouldn’t have made a bet against him. You’d be talking to Balto as soon as you got home.

Will have some more winter!reader fics coming soon up until Christmas :) hope you enjoy and thank you for reading/interacting - Yiiyii

[atardisnameddesire]

Finished this book late Saturday night. Wow. What a whirlwind. A Court of Wings and Ruin picks up right where A Court of Mist and Fury leaves off. War is coming to Prythian and it’s up to Feyre and the Court of Dreams to rally the other courts to protect both the fae and human realms from total destruction. I loved getting to see the High Lords from all of the courts together. That was fascinating. I hope to see more of the other courts going forward especially the Day and Winter Courts! The final battle was nerve wracking and emotional. I’m excited to see where the story goes from here! I want a prequel series about Miryam and Drakon! 🌙🌞🌅❄️🍂☀️🌹⚔️🛡#acourtofwingsandruin #acourtofthornsandroses #sarahjmaas #feyrearcheron #rhysand #rhysandfeyre #nightcourt #courtofdreams #nestaandcassian #miryamanddrakon #daycourt #dawncourt #wintercourt #autumncourt #summercourt #springcourt #read #reading #books #bookstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CVLyCSyLMCF/?utm_medium=tumblr

[surielstea]

Sureilstea: Eris Week 2024 Masterlist

Day 1, 9/8: Bonds or Bargains

Ensnaring Marks | Eris x Fem!Reader

-> In which Eris traps Reader into a bargain over her families peace and her freedom. (Enemies to Lovers)

Day 2, 9/9: Childhood or Legacy

Puppy Love | Eris x WinterCourt!Reader

-> In which the Winter Court Princess teaches a seventeen year old Eris how to hunt game during winter months. (Fluff)

Day 3, 9/10: Healing or Betrayal

Life Debts | Eris x Healer!Reader

-> In which Eris gets injured on the battlefield and his personal, overworked healer must tend to his wounds. (Fluff, slight angst, smut)

Day 4, 9/11: Tradition or Hounds

-> Hounded by Love| Eris x Fem!Reader

In which Reader overcomes her fear of large dogs with Eris at her side. (Fluff)

Day 5, 9/12: War or Adventure

Nobody’s Soldier | Eris x Lieutenant!Reader

-> In which Reader and Eris spend their night before the war together going over battle plans, and distracting themselves from the bloodshed with other tactics. (Slight angst, Smut)

Day 6, 9/13: AU or Retellings

Bloody Besottedness | Vampire!Eris x Human!Reader

-> In which Eris and Reader are trapped together in a house during a blood shortage, and reader is the only source of blood around. (Fluff, slight smut, vampire AU)

Day 7, 9/14: Free Day

Move me, Baby | Eris x Fem!Reader

-> In which the newly weds dance and slowly fall in love with the music, and the movements of each other. (Arranged Marriage, smut)

Comment a “🧡” if you’d like to be added to the Eris Week taglist.

Or comment a specific title you’d like to be tagged in.

[patruchilles]

@faenet event: get to know the members — [ reya ]

She pulled a small box from her pocket. "There's one more task," Aelin said, holding the box out to Lysandra. "You'll probably hate me for it later. But you can start by saying yes." "Proposing to me? How unexpected.”

[drusillas-tales]

- Moodboard of the Winter Court | Acotar Series by Sarah J Maas

( The moodboard was made by me but I do not own the pictures used. They all belong to their owners and creators.)

[shvdwscng]

once,  very  briefly,  the  spymaster  would  have  enjoyed  traveling  around,  she  had  thought  of  it  before  she  had  found  a  place  in  the  winter  army.  growing  up,  she  had  never  felt  as  if  she  belonged,  the  winter  court  was  her  home,  but  for  the  longest  time  nothing  felt  as  such.  odd  that  of  all  the  places  she  found  home  was  in  the  most  brutal  of  environments.  not  made  by  those  around  her,  but  the  life  of  a  soldier  was  not  one  taken  lightly,  and  while  they  had  not  seen  war  in  the  time  she  served,  the  sense  of  belonging  she'd  found  there,  along  with  a  few  she  had  met  who  now  joined  her  in  the  high  lady's  inner's  circle  made  her  believe  fates  did  have  a  strange  of  intervening.  she  hadn't  been  displeased  coming  to  the  capital  ,  thinking  she  might  explore  a  bit,  perhaps  feel  out  the  other  courts,  and  more  importantly  thought  the  changed  scenery  would  do  demetria  well.  however,  now  lailah  prayed  they  all  made  it  out  safely  enough,  but  being  trapped  here  certainly  fiddled  with  her  normal  serene  disposition.

"as  one  would  be  wise  to."  she  murmured,  she  understood  and  entirely  stood  by  the  rule  of  now  allowing  others  to  see  you  at  one's  lowest  point.  nothing  good  would  come  of  it.  "i  imagine  you  are  not  the  only  one  in  that  boat,  with  how  we're  stuck,  I  fear  most,  if  not  all,  are  going  stir-crazy."  there  was  little  that  could  distract  from  their  grave  circumstances.  the  winter  fae  continued  what  she  did  best,  kept  busy,  keeping  an  eye  out  for  anything  of  note,  speaking  to  the  other  spymasters,  and  even  aiding  their  scholars  in  any  she  could,  even  if  books  were  not  her  speciality,  there  was  much  she  could  learn.  "the  army  will  do  that  you.  although  I  can  be  quite...responsive  depending  on  the  circumstances.  but  you  seem  to  be  handling  yourself,  quite  well,  too."  the  elder  brunette  responded,  taking  a  seat  beside  the  other  on  the  bench,  "I  find  that  keeping  busy  certain  helps  my  mood,  but  as  a  spymaster  my  work  is  hardly  ever  done.  you  will  still  catch  me  trying  to  find  ways  to  temper  my  frustrations  or  worse  case,  let  them  free  until  I  feel  a  bit  better."  lailah  too  turned  her  gaze  to  her  companion,  "your  a  healer,  you  will  never  be  out  a  job.  I  think  I  might  have  seen  you  with  your  paints,  or  is  that  your  primary  profession?"  a  quizzical  brow  rising  at  the  other  fae,  but  the  other's  words  of  feeling  the  magic  along  the  capital  pique  her  interest,  "what  does  it  feel  like?"  if  she  had  to  guess,  something  that  should  not  be  here.  "yes  and  no,  although  my  job  is  simply  to  observe  and  report  to  my  high  lady.  but  its  hard  to  do  when  no  one  knows  what  we're  facing.  I  have  noticed  a  bit  of  an  affect  on  my  abilities,  another  charming  present  from  this  entity.  I  tend  to  avoid  most  because  everyone's  moods  are  less  than  ideal."  the  spy  have  her  a  friendly  smile,  waving  off  the  other's  apologies,  "I  dont  make  it  habit  either  to  introduce  myself."  that  was  simply  because  it  was  not  her  mind,  the  less  people  knew  of  her  the  better  she  could  do  what  she  wished.  "lailah,  spymaster  of  the  wintercourt,  and  very  much  missing  her  snow.  pleased  to  make  your  acquaintance,  ysarie."

ysarie could sense that the other fae had much on her mind, likely similar thoughts to their own. they didn't like being trapped in any situation, and being trapped in gaea was especially uncomfortable. the woman was clearly of the winter court, ysarie imagined the landscape of the capital was not familiar to her. perhaps disquieting even. autumn was slightly more akin to gaea, but they missed the fiery leaves and rolling hills of their court. they didn't think they'd ever be homesick for their adopted home. ysarie had only ever felt that emotion for their birthplace in the human world. it was quite jarring. they felt skittish, and worried, and on edge. though that was kind of their natural resting state, the current situation had heightened their normal anxious nature. "i rarely make a fuss openly." they laughed softly. "when i truly lose my mind, i do it on my own time." gesturing to the space next to them, ysarie gave the woman a gentle smile. "you're welcome to sit if you'd like. it seems as if you're as unsettled by all of this as i am. though you seem to have a better handle on your emotions than i." they hoped the stranger would chose to join them, they wanted to know more of her thoughts on the situation they were all in. pondering her query, ysarie placed their chin in their hands and studied the woman before them. "that's a very interesting question. i never planned for being stuck here, so now i'm basically out of a job." they shrugged ruefully and continued speaking. "i can almost feel the aura of this city in my body, so i imagine if i was healing regularly my concentration would be affected by it." ysarie peered at the woman curiously. "has this mess affected your work at all? it seems to be getting to everyone i run into." ysarie remembered their manners and blushed. "i'm ysarie ben by the way, of the autumn court. forgive me for not introducing myself earlier." they held out a hand for the other fae to shake.