#eris acosf

[velidewrites]

Finally settled on a version of Eris I liked. He's bloodied because he just ended 1,000+ years of tyranny in Autumn and he can't quite believe it yet

Thank you to everyone who voted on my Eris hair poll! Individual portraits under the cut

[surielstea]

Can I get HCs for the Bat Boyz & the autumn boyz (Eris & Lucien, my favourites) with this dialogue:

“There’s nowhere to sit” “My lap is right here.”

Bonus points: if it’s not always the boyz’ lap that’s being referenced here. Personally I think Lucien, Rhys and Cass would find it hilarious.

Thank you! 💀

“My lap is right here.”

Pairing: ACoTaR men x Fem!Reader (separately)

Summary: requested above.

Warnings: All fluff with some suggestiveness!

A. Note: this is just a little something for you guys while I finish my Azris x Reader story (it’s already 10k words…) it’s gonna take me a minute to edit that so enjoy this while you wait! :)

Rhysand

Rita's was packed, the music thrumming through the air, a bass-heavy pulse that vibrated through the floor. Laughter and conversation wove together, filling the space with an electric kind of energy. You should have expected this—should have known that a night out with the Inner Circle would be anything but quiet.

The lot of you had managed to snag one of the larger rounded booths, a semicircle of plush velvet meant for maybe six or seven people. But there were ten of you, and despite the shuffling, adjusting, and outright shoving that had taken place, only nine had managed to squeeze in.

Which left you standing there, arms crossed, staring at the filled seats.

"Well, where am I supposed to sit?" you asked, arching a brow as your so-called friends barely spared you a second glance. Even Amren—tiny, ruthless Amren—had somehow managed to claim a spot.

Before anyone could answer, a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you forward with a familiar, effortless strength. A gasp left your lips as you tumbled into a broad, solid chest, your mate's scent of sea salt and citrus washing over you as he caught you with ease.

"My lap is right here, darling," Rhys purred into your ear, his voice a velvety caress. His arms caged you against him as he leaned back into the booth, utterly at ease with you in his lap. "This seat is always reserved for you."

A flush crept up your neck, heat coiling low in your stomach as his lips ghosted over the sensitive spot just below your ear. You swatted at his arm half-heartedly, though you didn't move away.

"Get a room," Cassian groaned, shaking his head. "Or at least wait until we've had a few drinks before you start eye-fucking each other."

"Oh, please," Mor cut in, already sliding out of the booth. "Tell me about it, Cass. I'm getting a round."

"Get us doubles!" Amren called after her. "We're going to need them." She sighed beneath her breath.

The table erupted in laughter, but Rhys barely paid them any mind. His fingers traced idle patterns along your thigh, his lips still dangerously close to your ear.

"You don't mind sitting here, do you?" he murmured, the hint of amusement in his voice making it clear he already knew the answer.

You tilted your head just enough to meet his gaze, violet eyes dark with mischief. "I think you planned this," you accused, narrowing your eyes.

His smile was all wickedness and charm. "And if I did?"

You huffed, shaking your head—but you didn't move from his lap. And judging by the way his hands tightened ever so slightly on your hips, you doubted he had any intention of letting you go.

Let Mor bring the drinks. You had everything you needed right here.

Azriel

"Hi, handsome," you greet, a smile curling at your lips as you swing open the door to your apartment. The crisp scent of rain drifts in with the night air, mingling with the warmth of your cozy home. Azriel stands in the doorway, shadows curling subtly around him as if hesitant to cross the threshold.

His hazel eyes soften as he takes you in, lingering on the comfortable sweater you've thrown on, the glow of candlelight flickering in the background. He steps inside, shaking a few stray raindrops from his hair, and you close the door behind him, shutting out the storm.

"You're soaked," you remark, reaching out to help him shrug off his damp jacket. His fingers brush against yours as he hands it over, and even with the chill clinging to the fabric, his touch is warm.

"It's cold out there," he murmurs, eyes scanning the space around him. He's never been to your apartment before, and you watch with amusement as his gaze sweeps over the small but welcoming interior—books stacked in uneven piles, a few blankets draped over the couch, a candle flickering on the coffee table. A place lived in. A place entirely yours.

"But it's nice in here," he adds, his voice dipping lower as he turns back to you.

You barely have time to process his words before his lips are on yours—slow, deliberate, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as he deepens the kiss. You melt into him for a moment, savoring the warmth that spreads through your chest before you pull away with a playful smile.

"Come on," you say, tugging him toward the couch. "Make yourself comfortable."

Azriel hesitates. It's subtle—the slight shift of his weight, the way his wings twitch behind him as he glances at the couch. It's not exactly built to accommodate a six-foot-something Illyrian warrior with a wingspan that could cast an eclipse over your entire living room.

"Uh... where should I sit?" he asks, the uncertainty in his voice so rare it almost makes you laugh.

You smirk, patting your lap in invitation. "Right here's an option."

His lips twitch in amusement, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his gaze before he makes his decision—easing down onto the couch beside you instead. His wing unfurls slightly, shifting behind you before settling around your shoulders like a warm, protective cloak.

You hum contentedly, pulling a blanket over both of you and nestling into his side. The steady beat of his heart thrums against your ear as you relax into the comfort of his presence.

"Thought you'd take me up on my offer," you tease, tilting your head to glance up at him.

His lips brush against your temple, voice low and amused. "Maybe next time."

For now, you're more than happy with this—wrapped in the warmth of him, the scent of rain and cedarwood clinging to his skin, and the quiet, unspoken promise that he is exactly where he wants to be.

Cassian

"Babe, you in here?"

Cassian's voice carries through the library just before his head peeks around the doorway. You don't bother looking up, too engrossed in the book cradled in your hands—a detailed account of art created during the war. Nestled beneath a thick pile of blankets in a massive leather chair that practically swallows you whole, you simply lift one hand from the cocoon of warmth and wave lazily.

"Here."

He steps inside, brows knitting together. "I called you through the bond. You didn't answer."

"I'm reading," you murmur distractedly, flipping a page without sparing him a glance.

"Reading or not, answer next time. I was worried, okay?" His voice dips into something softer, more serious as he strides deeper into the room.

You hum in vague acknowledgment but don't respond, eyes locked on the words before you.

“Baby," he tries again, tapping a finger against the edge of your book.

You snap your gaze up at him, blinking as if just now remembering his presence. "Huh?"

Cassian exhales through his nose, clearly unimpressed. "Okay?" he repeats, waiting for some kind of confirmation.

Not entirely sure what you're agreeing to but wanting to return to your book, you nod absently. "Yeah, okay."

He watches you for a long moment, his broad shoulders deflating when you go right back to reading. The silence stretches between you, filled only with the soft crackling of the fireplace and the faint rustle of pages.

"Aren't you going to ask why I was looking for you?" His voice carries the weight of expectation.

"...No." You shrug, completely unrepentant.

Cassian lets out a dramatic sigh, his hope for your attention swiftly diminishing. "If you look at me right now, I'll leave you alone with your book," he mutters.

Your head snaps up instantly, locking onto his warm caramel gaze.

"Cauldron, you're determined," he grumbles. Then, in one swift motion, he swipes your book from your hands and snaps it shut.

You gasp, eyes widening as you reach for it. "Cassian!"

"You can read later. Give me attention now," he hums, looking far too pleased with himself.

You narrow your eyes at him, lips parting to protest, but then an idea strikes. You soften your expression, tilt your head slightly, and give him the biggest, most pitiful puppy-dog eyes you can manage.

His smirk falters. Then crumbles entirely.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he blurts, scrambling to return your book. He flips it open and, somehow, miraculously lands on the exact page you were on.

You blink in surprise before shooting him a suspicious look.

"What?" he says innocently, though the glint in his eye suggests he knew exactly what he was doing.

Still, you smile in triumph, sinking deeper into the chair and pulling the book back into place.

Cassian frowns at you, clearly still unsatisfied, and before you can react, he swoops in, effortlessly lifting you from your seat.

A startled yelp escapes you as he sets you on your feet, stealing your chair for himself. You huff but refuse to be deterred, standing directly in front of him, reading as if nothing had happened. Every so often, you flick a page, ignoring the weight of his amused stare.

A sudden shiver wracks through you, the realization settling in—you had been so warm under that blanket. You glance up to find Cassian comfortably wrapped in it now, looking entirely too smug.

"Give me my spot back," you grumble, crossing your arms.

"My lap is right here," he counters smoothly, patting his thigh.

You roll your eyes but don't hesitate long before crawling into his lap. His arms immediately come around you, securing you against his chest as he reclines the chair back. The warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against your back, melts away any lingering annoyance.

Without another word, you resume reading, far more comfortable now than you had been before. Cassian presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, fingers threading through your hair in a way that is both distracting and soothing.

You silently thank him for keeping your hair out of your face, appreciating, despite everything, that he always finds a way to take care of you—even when he's being insufferable.

Eris

The golden throne is a masterpiece—intricate carvings of twisting flames and autumn leaves adorning the armrests, the deep red cushions a striking contrast against the polished gold. But the true vision of perfection is the male seated upon it.

Eris, legs spread carelessly, his head resting against his palm, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. His auburn hair catches the flickering candlelight, a halo of fire framing his sharp, impossibly beautiful features. His amber eyes—always so sharp, always so calculating—soften slightly as they land on you.

You shift your weight, feeling oddly out of place as you stand before him. "So... do I get a throne too?" you ask, tilting your head.

Eris raises a single brow, amusement flickering across his face. "Why?"

You blink at him. "Because this is the throne for the ruler of Autumn," he explains, as if the answer is obvious.

"Right," you say, crossing your arms. "But I just mean... I'm High Lady. Shouldn't I have a throne too?"

It feels strange, asking for something like this, but before you were even married, Eris made it abundantly clear—you are his equal in all things. He's never once treated you as anything less.

He exhales softly, watching you as if he's trying to puzzle something out. Then, finally, he shrugs. "We share a bed. Shouldn't we share a throne?"

Your lips part in protest. "It's not exactly large enough—"

But before you can finish, Eris moves. With a fluidity that makes your breath hitch, he reaches forward, gripping your wrist and tugging you toward him. A startled gasp escapes you as you stumble, catching yourself on the arm of the throne just as you land in his lap, straddling one of his thighs.

The position leaves your faces mere inches apart—your wide eyes meeting his entirely relaxed, smirking expression.

His hands settle on your waist, fingers drumming idly against the fabric of your dress. "We can get you your own throne if you really want, pretty," he murmurs, his voice a silken promise. "But what's mine is yours. So share this with me—for now, okay?"

You stare at him, still slightly stunned by the sudden shift, the warmth of him seeping into you, the firm press of muscle beneath you. His scent—smoke and crisp autumn air—wraps around you, grounding you in the moment.

Slowly, you nod.

"Good," he whispers, his smirk softening into something dangerously close to adoration before he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss.

A kiss that lingers, that tastes of fire and devotion.

And as you melt into him, you think—perhaps his lap as a throne was a perfectly good alternative.

Lucien

The gathering was already in full swing by the time you and Lucien arrived. The grand hall, adorned in golden candlelight and autumnal tapestries, was packed with High Fae from various courts. A long banquet table stretched through the center of the room, lined with platters of rich food and goblets of deep red wine.

You had expected a formal meeting—discussions of trade agreements, court relations, maybe a bit of posturing. What you hadn't expected was an entire buffet spread out on the table, and for every seat to be taken.

Lucien, of course, had found one easily, already seated comfortably among the dignitaries. His russet-red hair gleamed under the chandelier's glow, and he looked completely at ease, one arm draped over the back of his chair, a goblet in his other hand. He was already speaking with someone from the Winter Court, his voice warm and smooth—an effortless diplomat.

You stood at the edge of the table, scanning for an open seat. Nothing.

Lucien's keen gaze flicked to you. A slow, knowing smirk stretched across his lips. "Problem, darling?"

You crossed your arms, pursing your lips. "There's nowhere to sit."

Lucien took a languid sip of his wine, clearly reveling in your predicament. Then, with all the smugness in the world, he patted his thigh. "My lap is right here."

You shot him a sharp look, but he only raised a brow, entirely unbothered. His amber eye gleamed with mischief, the gold in it catching the candlelight. "Unless you'd rather sit in one of my brother’s advisor’s lap?" he mused, tilting his head toward the older men at the end of the table, who were giving you disgusting looks but thankfully too far away to catch wind of Lucien's ridiculous suggestion.

Your glare hardened. "Absolutely not."

Lucien grinned like the cat that got the cream. "Then by all means, make yourself comfortable."

You let out a long, suffering sigh before lowering yourself onto his lap, doing your best to maintain your dignity. His arms came around you without hesitation, one resting lightly at your waist while the other adjusted to make space.

“You know,” He started, lips brushing your ear. "You could have at least pretended to resist a little longer," he murmured, his voice low, meant only for you.

"If this makes a scene, you suffer the consequences."

Lucien hummed in amusement, fingers absently tracing patterns against your hip. "I think I rather like these consequences."

You were about to retort when a voice from across the table chimed in. "Comfortable?"

You looked up to find Helion watching the two of you with raised brows, his expression far too entertained.

Lucien didn't miss a beat. "Very," he replied smoothly, fingers tightening just slightly at your waist.

Helion chuckled, shaking his head, but said nothing more. Like father like son.

You, on the other hand, were going to murder Lucien the second you were out of sight of the High Lords.

But for now, as the night carried on, his warmth steady beneath you, his presence grounding in a way you weren't entirely ready to admit—you allowed yourself to relax, just a little.

And if Lucien pressed an occasional kiss to your shoulder throughout the evening, well... you supposed you could let that slide.

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[iocaisaint]

@nestaarcheronweek Day 4: Lover// made by tasbaqaart on Instagram, commissioned by me

Click for better quality!

Neris (I'm predictable) intertwined, Nesta in blue, Eris in red, in the Autumn court at dusk.

As always Tasya did an incredible job!

🚫 if you REPOST, PLEASE CREDIT THE ARTIST

[lady-of-tearshed]

Checkmate

Pairing: Eris x female!Reader

Summary: You are playing chess against Lucien, and it's getting late.

Word count: 660 words

Warnings: None

Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears ❤️

Lucien Vanserra is a ruthless player when it comes to chess. 

His moves are unpredictable and unsettling, leaving an opening only to pounce back on his opponent. He tricks them, hunts them down. 

You knit your eyebrows as you watch him move his pawn forward, leaving his queen exposed to your bishop. 

“The hells are you trying to do here…” You mutter under your breath, looking up to your brother in law’s relaxed face. 

He tilts his head to the side, a feline grin creeping up his face as he slouches into his seat. “Come on, Y/N. Try something.” 

“I think this game as been going on for long enough, brother,” Eris grumbles from the loveseat couch. He stretches like a lazy cat, then places a bookmark in his book before setting it down on the coffee table. “Come to bed now, my heart.” 

“I’m not tired yet!” You speak behind your hand, trying to stifle a yawn. 

Eris gives you a knowing look, then stands up from his seat. 

He walks the few steps separating you then scoops you up into his arms without acknowledging Lucien’s presence for one second. 

“We weren’t done playing!” Lucien whines, standing up as to stop Eris from taking his source of entertainment away. 

“You, go back to your own female. I reckon you still have some mate stuff to figure out, brother.” 

Lucien swears and blushes madly as Eris winnows out of the drawing room, leaving him behind with an unfinished chess game and the crackling fire living in the hearth. He had been courting his mate, Elain Archeron, for years now. It is fair to say that his rate of success with her as been miserable, compared to his prodigious success with chess. 

—

The familiar scent of incense and something spicy, cinamon, perhaps, welcomed you as the room falls into place. 

Eris–yet to let your feet touch the ground– sighs as he makes his way to your matrimonial bed. Gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, he lays you atop of it. 

His deft finger easily win the fight against the multiple ties and claps securing your corset onto your body, and the relief you feel as it releases you is so intense that your eyes nearly roll at the back of your head. 

“No thank you for saving your pretty ass today, my darling mate?” Eris smiles down at you, your ankle lazily resting on his shoulder as he undoes the laces of your chic leather boots. 

“Mmmh? When?” The question almost sounds like a purr, your eyes already dropping from sheer exhaustion as you let your mate ready you for bed. 

“With Lucien.”

“All you did, my love,” You grunt as you lift yourself on your shoulders, “Was ruin my fun.” 

Eris scoffs, letting your leg fall before reaching down to hook the other one above his shoulder, getting rid of your other boot. “Oh, absolutely. You were having so much fun losing,” He ticks his tongue, a sly grin on his lips. His fingers are massaging your calf to keep you quiet and content while he speaks. “If you had attacked his queen with your bishop, his king would’ve attacked it back. It would’ve left you with only your king, a bishop, and some pawn to finish this game. You were screwed, and bound to lose.” 

He sighs, shaking his head as he puts your leg down, crawling up between your legs to rest his body atop of yours. His lips find the sharp curve of your jaw, nipping at the skin as you grumble instead of assuming that, yes, he is right. “Your game was terrible, my heart.”

“Shut up…” 

“Such kind words.” He teases back.

You get rid of the extra layers of clothing remaining on your bodies in silence, then without another word, only loving kisses, the two of you slide under the soft bedsheets and fall asleep in the safety of each other’s arms.  

Eris Vanserra taglist:

ACOTAR general taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @paige0103 @princesssunderworld

[fantasydreamland]

A Dance of Forbidden Fire

eris vanserra x fem reader

Summary: You attend the winter solstice ball at the Night Court with your sisters Feyre and Nesta. The plan was for Nesta to seduce Eris with her dancing skills, but instead he asks for your hand. As you dance away into the night you cannot fight the feeling that he is your mate.

Notes: 18+ only! Slight suggestive smut, forbidden love, tension, angst, fluff, spoilers, bolded words taken directly from the chapter & belong to sarah j maas

(y/n kinda replaces Elain in the story - Based on chapter 57 of ACOSF)

this is the scene that really sparked my random crush on eris 💃

Word count: 1.9k

PART TWO

PART THREE

masterlist

taglist

The ball began after Feyre and Rhysand arrived and took their places on their thrones. You and Nesta took your places on either side of them, both wearing similar black gowns. You wore a low cut style that accentuated your cleavage, and an open back, leaving much of your skin exposed.

Eris came to greet you all, the first time you had ever seen him, having remained mainly inside the house since being Made. Though you had heard plenty about him. You knew he was the son of Beron and the heir to Autumn court. You knew he was cunning, and self centred, and deceitful, and arrogant. And of course the story with Morrigan. Your family allied with him because they needed to, but they have made it clear to you that they did not trust him in the slightest.

They had failed to mention just how gorgeous he was. He was as if a perfect autumn leaf transformed into a devilishly handsome male. His long firey orange hair was styled neatly behind his pointed ears, freckles scattered across his sun kissed skin, and a cocky smirk formed on his lips. But it was his piercing amber eyes that took your breath away the moment they connected with yours. You both held silent that eye contact for a short moment that felt like a small eternity before he seemed to shake his head to focus back on Rhys and Feyre.

The High Lord and Lady presented Eris with a solstice gift, his eyes seeming to keep flicking over to you during the entire time they spoke. Feyre ended the conversation by explaining she could not offer her hand to Eris for a dance, due to her condition.

“My older sister shall take my place.” Feyre says to him, gesturing to Nesta.

“Actually, my High Lady… I would like to ask for (y/n)’s hand. If she would care to join me, of course.” He says overly politely before looking to you.

Feyre and Nesta both look over at you, you meet their worried eyes briefly before turning your attention back to Eris.

“It would be my pleasure.” You offer a small smile as you step towards him, deciding to carry out the plan yourself.

Cassian tries to hide his relief as Eris walks you to the dance floor instead of Nesta.

Others watched from the sidelines as the dance finished and the introductory strains of the next began, a harp strumming high and sweet. Eris extended a hand, a half smile on his mouth.

You place your hand in his. The feeling of your skin connecting sent electricity throughout your body. Percussion and horns blasted; low stronger instruments started a rushing strike of music. A summons to the dance in a countdown to movement.

Eris slid his broad hand over your waist, tucking you in close. His slender fingers seeming to warmly burn into the bare skin of your back. You lifted your chin, looking up into his face. The moment your eyes connect up close, you feel it, the tug in your chest, a strong magnetic pull of your heart towards his. The sudden wild look in his amber eyes told you he felt it too. Even the smell of him seemed to overwhelm your senses. He smelt like… cedar, and a rainy day, and a hint of something sweeter like vanilla, an addictive smell you wanted to bury yourself in.

He does not miss the heavy rise of your bosom as you take a slow deep breath trying to compose yourself, his eyes dart back to yours and the dance begins. You move to the music, becoming completely lost in it. You have always danced well, you would not consider yourself an expert like Nesta, but following Eris’s lead felt as easy as water flowing through a silent stream. You seemed to fit perfectly in his arms, like you were meant to be there. You dance together as one, moving in perfect harmony, your eyes never parting once except the brief seconds between twirls. His presence had your cheeks and ears burning red, your breathing difficult, and your heart absolutely racing.

You let Eris lead you into the next dance as a new song began. It was a lighter, easier dance than the first.

Eris’s amber eyes studied yours. “Trust Rhysand to keep you hidden away.”

“I’m afraid I am the one who has kept myself hidden away...” You respond, it was the truth, despite your families efforts you kept yourself isolated for a long time after being Made.

“Understandably so.” He says, his expression turned more serious, sympathetic. “I can hardly imagine what you went through with… the Cauldron.” The last word coming out as almost a whisper.

“Yes…” You breathed, the only response you could manage as you tried to shove those memories aside.

Eris spun you, and when you returned to him, he murmured in your ear, “Don’t believe the lies they tell you about me.” His breath on your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “Oh?”

Eris nodded to where Mor watched them from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. “She knows the trust but has never revealed it.”

“Why?”

“Because she is afraid of it.”

You didn’t pry further about the details but it did make you question what you have been told about him, and that maybe there was more to the story. The man in front of you did not seem like the monster you had pictured. It made you curious about his perspective, about his life.

You chatted a little more throughout the song, getting to know a bit about eachother. Not just the facts that everyone already knows but small things deeper than that. He asked you about your favourite season and you admit it has always been autumn. When you were human you would count down the days for the chilled weather and colourful leafs. The crunch of leafs beneath your feet, and cozy sweaters, and pumpkins, and warm ciders. You have always loved everything about the season.

“It almost seems like you belong in Autumn, interesting...” Eris says with a sly smirk.

You blush in response earning a wider smirk from him. The dance continues on in silence, only exchanging occasional small smiles between you.

You follow his lead into a third song, this one much slower, more romantic. You sway and twirl together around the dance floor. No more words are exchanged between you but so much is said through your deeply connected eyes. The entire ball fades into the background, no one else existed in this moment. It felt like you were the only two beings in the room, in the world. Being in his alluring presence, his hot skin touching yours, his firey eyes staring into your very soul… it felt like he had you completely under a spell as you danced and danced.

The song finishes with a final twirl, then holding onto your connected hands as the other is outstretched behind you in an elegant pose. As the song comes to a close Eris pulls you back against him, even tighter than before, your bodies pressed firmly together while his fingers pressed firmer into your skin. You were so close that when you lift your head to meet his eyes again your noses lightly brush. You freeze, his tempting lips just a mere breath away. You swear you can feel his heart thundering against your body like a brutal storm, or perhaps that was your own.

Still under his spell, you lean in and almost connect your lips before the beginning of new song makes you come to your senses and pull away from him with a small gasp.

“Are you alright?” Eris asks you with genuine concern.

“Yes, I- forgive me. I… I just need a moment to freshen up. Please excuse me.” You babble before you nearly run off the dance floor and away from him before you could even hear his response.

You rush down the hallway and find a washroom, quickly slamming the door closed behind you as you let out a heavy breath. Your heart was still racing and your skin burning hot like a raging fire as you try to collect your thoughts. The undeniable connection you felt with him, even now you feel as if some force is pulling you back to the ballroom, back to him. Was he?… He couldn’t be… No. The ‘ally’ whom your family detests could not be your… mate. No.

You take another deep shakey breath before returning to the room and take your place back by Rhysand and Feyre, eyeing the dance floor in search of Eris.

“Well done (y/n). Eris is quite taken with you.” Rhysand says quietly with a smirk, the mere mention of his name causing breath to shorten again. “We were a little concerned when we saw you basically bolt out of the room but he seems to truly believe he has a chance with you.” He chuckles in a scoff.

You laugh nervously. “Yes, well, he is a fool...”

“You can say that again.” Cassian chuckles as he rolls his eyes.

The nervousness bubbles in you again as you’re reminded how much your family dislikes Eris. Then he comes into your view from across the room, his firey eyes catching yours instantly. Your heart raced at the thought of going back on the dance floor, he was pure temptation you were terrified you would not be able to stop yourself.

“I am actually not feeling too well, I think all the dancing has made me light headed.” You turn to Feyre, lightly hold your stomach. “I’m beginning to feel a bit nauseous.”

“Please, go on home then (y/n). Get some rest. You have already done wonderfully tonight.” Feyre offers a soft smile.

You offer a curtsy to the High Lord and Lady before departing. You quickly turn to leave and nearly crash right into Eris.

“Woah there, you alright (y/n)?” He asks with his usual sly smirk.

“Yes, sorry um, please forgive me... I’m afraid I am feeling rather, um, unwell, and must retire early.” You ramble as you begin to get lost in his fierce eyes once again.

“Oh, yes, of course.” He says with a serious face before turning back into his wicked expression as he takes your hand in his. “I do hope we see eachother again soon. (Y/n)…” He slowly empathizes your name in a low voice, sending shivers up your spine, before placing a kiss to your hand.

You gulp before responding. “I look forward to it. Eris…” His name rolls off your tongue in a whispery breath and you notice how it makes his breath quicken and eyes darken.

You rush through the crowd towards the exit, looking back only once to Eris who has not taken his eyes off you. You feel the pull in your chest again as your eyes connected for a long moment before you find the strength to look away and leave the palace.

The days following felt like a blur. You tried to ignore them but your thoughts remained full of Eris, somehow still deeply under his spell even though he was nowhere near you. You could not stop thinking of everything about that enchanting night, about that enchanting man, your… mate. Whom you desperately yearned to see again.

*

I imagine the final dance to this song ~

PART TWO

PART THREE

masterlist

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[harperbrynne]

He was lean, well dressed, every inch of him a court-trained bastard. Probably the eldest, given the way even the ones who looked like born warriors stared at him with deference and calculation—and fear. (ACOTAR, pg312)

[thewulf]

A Realm Reborn || Eris Vanserra

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

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

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Female Reader (Mate)

Word Count: 6.2k +

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[yaralulu]

cassian randomly stopping to admire lucien’s work ethic and his ability to manage his three roles and still look good and dress well while doing it is so funny 😭😭.

the word choice being immaculately is really what’s killing me here.

and not to mention whatever this is.

or this other moment where yeah cassians fighting the urge to punch eris but he also thinks hes pretty 🤨?? this is what i like to call cassians unhinged thoughts about the vanserra brothers 🙏.

[fourteentrout]

Hair panel of Eris Vanserra. Or should I say Eris Van-hair-a? Explanations below the cut!

Figure 1: First War with Hybern. I’d place him at about 24-27 here. Traditional cut of soldiers of his rank. Adolescent by High Fae standards, but still old enough to serve in his father’s army. He’d worn it long up until this point and had to force himself not to be upset when he had to cut it all off

Figure 2: How I imagine Eris when he’s first introduced in canon as a named character, like when he’s negotiating with Keir and Rhysand and preparing for the war. Hair reaches down to his shoulder blades, slight wave to it, middle part

Figure 3: Second War with Hybern and on. I personally picture him with this hair even in the High Lord’s Meeting, but mainly this is just how I imagine him during and post-war (through and beyond Silver Flames as well). Gets more wavy, bordering on curly, the shorter it is. Switch to side part

Figure 4: High Lord Eris. Post-canon. This is the hair I picture (though styled better) in the fic Falling Stars by Phebes. This is also the hair I picture him having in my own fic Betting Like You Know the Odds. I most often imagine him with Figure 3 hair, even in a possible High Lord Eris future, but I reserve this fourth style for specific instances like the ones mentioned. Switch back to middle part as waves become more loose again

[sarawritestories]

Love Story (All To Well Chapter 1 Part 1)

Cassian X OC (Rhys' Sister), Eris VanserraX OC Rhys' Sister (Eventually)

Summary: Under the Mountain, Estella, have flash backs to her 50 years in captivity, and losing hope she will ever see her lover. That is until a human girl shows up and give her and her brother Rhysand something they lost decades ago...Hope and in a matter of mere months she is reunited with the love of her life. The General of the Night Court Armies.

Content Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+, dub con, whipping, poisoning, murder (I think this covers it if I missed something please let me know). Longing for loved ones, while in captivity.

A/N: This was going to be extremely long if I didn't break this up in two parts and I really wanted to get something out to you since I had been teasing this so much!

Word Count: 4.1K

All Too Well Masterlist ACOTAR MasterList

Romeo Save Me

“Hello Beautiful,” Amarantha cooed, circling around Rhysand's baby sister, Estella. The raven haired female held her chin high. “Rhysand, you didn't tell me you had a sister.” Estella's eyes glanced over to her brother. If he was panicked he didn't show it.  Amarantha tsked, “Naughty boy, no matter she'll make a fine addition to the court.” Amarantha purred as her eyes grazed the black gown the Princess of the Night Court wore. The silver chains connected the two pieces of fabric at her hips revealing her toned, tanned legs, the neckline dipping to expose her stomach. A tiara of black and purple gems placed upon her head. An outfit she wore in the Court of Nightmares.

Did you know about this? Estella questioned her brother in the part of his mind he kept open for her.

If I did do you think I would have brought you here. Cassian begged me not to. I should have listened.

Amarantha snapped her fingers and the young princess felt hands grip her arms tightly, as fear flooded her system as the dreaded footfalls of the attor came into her line of sight.

Rhys…

I'm here, Little Star.

Estella glanced at the Attor's talon like hand. Faebane. Estella pressed her lips in a tight line, Rhys I'm scared.

She glanced over at his face and found no emotion there, the tick of his jaw the only indication that he was worried. Stay calm. I'm here, Stella. Just breathe.

Before Estella could take in a breath the Attor pinched her nose and instantly she began to struggle in the guards arms. The Attor's smile was sinister and would be the center of the young heir’s nightmare's to come. “Come now, Princess, open for me.

Estella, refused to open her mouth, her piercing blue eyes met the Attor's in pure defiance. Breaking eye contact she looked back to her brother to find Amarantha had wrapped her arms around Rhys pressing his back to her front as if it were a lover's embrace. “Come dear, don't be stubborn, or I may have to punish my new treat here.” She dragged a manicured finger down her brother's exposed chest and Estella maintained eye contact with the self proclaimed High Queen, as she nibbled his ear. To Rhysand's credit he didn't react to her advances he just stared at his Little Star.

Estella's lungs began to burn and her vision began to blacken around the edges and she opened her mouth to take her breath. Wasting no time the Attor poured the liquid down her throat, still pinching her nose as she had no choice but to swallow.

“Wonderful, guards take her away.” Estella watched as she planted a kiss on his cheek another tick in his jaw as they began to haul her away. “Don't worry Rhysand, We'll make sure she is comfortable and well taken care of.”

Before she let the panic settle in her bones she reached out to Rhysand once more; Rhys we need to put up the wards. Keep Velaris safe. Keep him safe. We have to do it before the faebane takes effect.

On my count Rhys voice echoed through there she could feel the beginning of the Faebane taking effect.

1…2…3…

Estella threw out her power to siphon the wards, draining to the dregs and she could hear the pounding of her shields. A familiar presence in the back of her mind.

Cassian she spoke in his mind.

Stella sweetheart, what's going on? His voice sounded distant in her mind as the poison was taking hold and she was being hoisted away.

It'll be okay. I'll be okay. Watch over Velaris for me won't you, General?”  The young heir could feel her power suppressing itself. As if her power was trying to combat the drug coursing through her veins.

No I'm coming to get you his voice roared through Estella's mind though it sounded as though he was talking to her underwater. She fought back tears that were stinging in her eyes.

I love you, Cassie. Then she felt the connection being severed and she allowed herself a few tears escape her eyes as she was ripped away from her home, her family, her lover.

We Were Both Young When I First Saw You

“I don’t want to train.” Estella whined dragging her feet as Rhys held a firm grip on her hand as they approached the camp.

Frustration bubbling over Rhys turned around and gently cupped her cheeks. “My Little Star, I love you, I promised Father, Mother, and Astrea that I would protect you.” Estella fought her flinch at the mentioned, of their dead family members. Rhys tenderly brushed a strand of hair that fell loos from her plait and tucked it behind her pointed ear. “I almost lost you once. I won't let it happen again. Could you please try training with my friends? If you don't like it, then I'll leave it alone. I just need you to try.”

Estella quirked a brow as she stared into his pleading violet eyes. With a roll of her eyes and dramatic sigh she replied, “Promise?”

Rhys smiled and kissed her forehead, “Promise.”

With a slight tilt of her head, Rhys led her to the two Illyrian warriors that were standing at the center of the fighting ring. The young heir had yet to meet her brother's friends but had heard stories about his “brothers.” The two were giants compared to her, both warriors wore seven siphons a piece. The shorthaired one with blue siphons, Estella had seen in passing in Velaris before her brother became High Lord, his shadows were hard to ignore. She had never uttered a word to the Shadowsinger but heard his name whispered by the maids in their home: Azriel.

The warrior with the red siphons had his hair up in a bun, his wings rustled as the wind kissed them. His hazel eyes met her pale blue eyes and gave her a toothy grin that caused her heart to quicken. “Finally nice to formally meet the Princess of Velaris.” His deep voice seeped into her bones and warmth pooled in her belly.

Estella then scrunched her nose, “Don't call me that.”

The long-haired Illyrian smirked stalking forward, causing Estella to crane her neck to hold his pointed gaze. “What would you have me call you, Sweetheart.” Heat warmed her cheeks at the pet name.

“I'll call you a dead male, if you keep staring at my sister like that, you prick.” Azriel snorted at Rhys' response. “Stella, the shameless flirt in front of you is Cassian. The stoic one fighting his laughter is Azriel. I'm sure you've seen him around. Gentlemen, this is Stella.”

Cassian's leather clad hand picked up Estella’s and brought her knuckles to his lips, “A pleasure, Sweetheart, if you're ever tired of big brother Rhysie, come find me and we can play.” Rhys growled, as Cassian gave the young female a wink. She gave him a smile in return, then averted her gaze to focus on anything else.

Maybe training wouldn't be so bad after all.

I Got Tired of Waiting

A hand grazed Estella's waist. Sipping from her goblet staring at the High Queen, wearing the Night Court tiara that she ripped from the Princess' head when they first arrived 49 years ago. A male from the summer court pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “Warm my bed tonight, Angelfish.” His breath was sour, and Estella took a sharp breath as his hand gripped her barely covered ass.

She turned into his touch, breaking her gaze from the queen who was kissing her brother's neck. Placing her hand on the male's bare tanned chest, “It would be my honor.” She gave her best seductive grin as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Bile rose in her throat, a feeling she had grown accustomed to since being there.

The male gripped her ass tighter, “I will retrieve you from your cell when I'm ready for you.” He whispered on her lips as if he was her lover. Another wave of nausea burned her esophagus as he pressed his lips to hers once more. A warm memory of kind Hazel eyes, calloused hands with red siphons atop them, and soft plush lips caressing hers bubbled to the surface. Estella forced the memory back down as the male swatted her bare flesh and walked away.

“Stella dear,” Amarantha's drawl felt like a snake slithering up Estella's spine. The young female met the Queen's gaze, her brother by her side his face a mask of cool indifference. “Come here.” Gritting her teeth the heir of the Night Court approached the dais her chin jutted out, the tiara on her head gleaming with the colors of her court. Trying to keep a semblance of dignity, though Amarantha's insistence that the top that only covered her breast and the gossamer skirt that barely covered her ass made her feel less than.

With the snap of the queen's fingers a male approached with a female their hands linked. Estella bowed, aware that her skirt was revealing more than she wished to the fae behind her. “Yes, your majesty.”

“Rise, dear, I have a gift for you.” Estella rose and the couple with their hands linked together smiled in her direction.

Breathe, Little Star Rhys' voice filler her head, Inhale she breathed in, Exhale she released the breath.

“This couple,” Amarantha's voice bellowed out, “Wishes for someone to join them in their bed this evening. You will go and they will do as they please with you.”

Shock flooded her system, so that was what her role was to be concubine…Cassian's face came to the surface and guilt laced her whole body. He will understand, Stella. We are not in a position to fight this.

Bullshit. The princess shook her head, “I will not, your majesty.” She held her head high. I cannot betray him like this, I will not. I'm sorry, Rhys.

Estella! Rhys scolded

Amarantha sneered, “I don't recall it being a request.”

Estella straightened her spine, “I don't care,” she retorted defiantly. “I will not lay down in someone's bed for their amusement.”

Amarantha rose from her throne her dark crimson skirts draping to the floor similar to blood dripping down a body. The Queen approached and Estella refused to cower. Amarantha approached her mouth upturned into a saccharine grin that appeared the most sinister. “Are you defying my direct orders, Princess?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Very Well, Rhysand, bring me the Ash whip.” Color drained from Estella’s face. Her brother approached whip in hand and his mouth formed into a tight line. “Thank you, now you will give her 10 lashes for her disobedience.” The siblings heads whipped to the evil witch next to them. “Is that going to be a problem, Rhysand. I figured she would learn her lesson best if it was given to her by someone she cares for. Wouldn't you agree?”

Estella then met Rhysand's eyes, “I do, Your Majesty.” Turn around and close your eyes, Little Star. She did as Rhys told her and the crack of the whip wrung out in the entire hall. With each sting of whip against her skin, and whimper that slipped from her mouth, Rhys’ voice rang in her mind.

I'm Sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm so fucking sorry.

By the end Amarantha had ripped the crown from atop of her head, and the couple had carried her to their room and in spite of her bleeding back, had taken her, over and over again, until she passed out from the pain, where hazel eyes and dark long hair greeted her.

Romeo Take Me Somewhere We Can Be Alone

Estella sat up as the male swiped lazy circles around her stomach, “Would you like some tea?” She asked placing her hand on top of his stalling the movements.

The male hummed his eyes glazed from his orgasm. “That would be wonderful, Angelfish.” He gave a lazy smile that the young female returned and rose to gather her clothes and began preparing him a cup of tea. “Amarantha is generous to share you.” He praddled on as Estella placed the kettle over the flame, grabbing her tea mixture she made a few weeks prior. “I know she has her own whore that warms her bed.” Estella clenched her teeth as he kept talking, “Only to give the court his sister. Truly a gift.”

Estella closed her eyes as she schooled her voice in a calm manor, “I am happy to serve  my queen and my court in whatever way is needed.” The words fell to ash on her tongue and tears burned her eyes as the kettle sung to life.  Grabbing the kettle she brought it over to the cup with the tea mixture in it. Pouring the hot water and letting the tea steep for 2 minutes, Estella brought the tea to the male, “Here you go, Darling,” She purred. She slipped into his mind easily his mental shield down, Drink all of it for me. The male did as he was told and she cooed in his ear, “Good boy.” She ran her fingers through his light brown curls as his eyes began to droop.

A half hour went by, and Estella leaned over the male’s face, and found that his breathing had ceased and she could no longer hear his heartbeat. She patted his cheek, “This has been fun, Angelfish.” She got dressed and snuck out of his room and ran right into a finely dressed chest. She looked up and inwardly groaned, “Eris.” Estella tried to step around the Heir of the Autumn court when he stepped in front of her.

He smirked his russet eyes that glimmered with mischief, “Hello, Estella. Tell me how my Little Viper is, today?”

She glared at him, “I thought I told you not to call me that, Princeling.”

Eris grinned, “Well I can’t help myself. Tell me who was your victim today.”

Estella sighed, “No one of importance.”

Eris eyes darkened his fist clenched for a moment, “I highly doubt that.”  

The princess of Night lowered her head slightly, “If I’m not back in my cell, I could be subject to a lashing so if you don’t mind, your highness.”

Eris slid out of her way, “Have a good night, My little Viper.” Estella shivered but moved past the red-haired Prince, without another word. winding the halls to her cell. Not noticing the Autumn prince sneaking into the room she came out of.

She arrived in her cell, and she found Rhysand standing in the middle of it. “Hey, you.” she said as she stepped onto the threshold of her prison.

“Hey, Little Star. How are you faring?” Rhys looked her up and down, assessing for injuries.

“Fine as always brother,” She got jittery and despite needing to put on appearances she hugged him. He wrapped her arms around her tightly. “I’m exhausted Rhys.” She whispered into his chest.

He pressed his hand to the back of her head and rocked her, “I know. I’m so sorry. Not a day goes by where I don’t regret trying to get you home. Or never bringing you to the Hewn City that day.” He whispered into her hair.

I miss them, Rhys. I miss him.

I know you do. I miss them too. “Tomorrow is Calanmai. Amarantha has granted me to leave.” Estella pulled away from her brother to stare at him and he read her face and shook his head speaking into her own, I can’t risk you being hurt because I attempted to escape. I won’t do it. It’s bad enough I have had to hurt you.

I don’t blame you; you know. She whispered in her mind.

I do…She makes me fuck her with your crown on...

Estella stilled at the brashness of his words, “Rhys...”

He hushed her as he kept her in his arms, “It’s okay.”

Will you stay with me tonight?

I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

Rhysie, please. Estella smiled slightly as he sighed.

I can’t deny you anything. Brat.

Rhys led her to the pile of hay in the corner of the cell and laid her down. The princess pressed her cheek against his heartbeat and Rhys began to rub her back. The two siblings sat in silence for a few moments. “Can you play the music for me, Rhys?”

Rhys smiled and kissed her forehead, “Sure thing. Close your eyes.”

Estella closed her eyes, “I love you.”  Music began to play inside her mind, the musicians at the rainbow began to build their symphony and tears welled in her eyes.

Rhys’ voice was strained as he responded, “I love you too. Sleep. I will be here in the morning.”

Estella was beginning to be pulled into slumber when she mumbled, “No one likes a liar, Rhys.” And she fell unconscious to the sounds of her brother chuckling.

Beggin You Please Don’t Go

“You are not leaving this bed!” Cassian pulled her waist dragging her back closer to him the warmth of his bare tattooed chest seeping into her bones. “I don’t need to leave for Windhaven until tomorrow. It’s cruel that Rhys would prevent you from spending the rest of today with me.” He kissed her cheek hips moving down the slope of her neck. “I want to be with my girl.”

Estella giggled as he nibbled her neck, his hands clinging to her waist tightly as if the General of the Night Court Armies were afraid, she would slip from his fingers. “Cass, I need to make an appearance in Hewn City. Apparently, Rhys has been getting shit for it from Keir.”

Cassian turned her to face him. He caressed her cheek gently, “I could care less about Keir. I hate it when you’re there when I can’t be.”

“Because you’re an overprotective bat?” Estella quirked a brow and smirked that the general pushing a strand of hair behind his ear.

He chuckled and kissed her nose, “No, you brat. I just don’t want to be separated from you. Especially when you’re in a place with cruel males that look at you like you’re their next meal.”

She looked laughed, “So an overprotective bat.”

Cassian’s grin was laced with mischief, “Overprotective bat?” He began to tickle the young raven-haired female. Her laughs filled their shared space, “I’ll show you an overprotective bat.” He pinned her back to the mattress and continued her assault on her waist, his fingers tickling her to the point of tears sliding down her eyes. He began pepper kisses over her face picking up her tears.

“Cassian, I yield.” Estella panted and she tapped her hand on his forearm. He stopped and leaned down pressing his forehead to hers. “I yield.” She whispered.

“I can’t help being protective you know.” He whispered in return. There was a long-delayed pause, his eyes growing distant.

Estella growled, “Had I known you wanted Rhys’ attention so bad I would have shifted into him.” Cassian shook his head and flicked her nose and she smiled, “What did he say?”

Cassian sighed as he pressed his lips to hers, “That I can beat the shit out of him when you both come home.”

Estella’s brow furrowed, “I never wanted you two to be at odds, Cass.”

Cassian smiled and interlaced his large hand over hers, “Sweetheart, we have been friends for centuries, he’s stuck with me.” He kissed her nose once more, “Just like you are.” He grinned and she found herself smiling too. “I love that smile of yours.”

She tilted her head, “What else do you love about me?”

Cassian kissed her forehead, “I love your eyes,” He kissed her cheek and Estella closed her eyes. “Your lips.” He pressed his lips to hers. “Your kindness,” He pecked her jaw line, “Your compassion.” His lips moved to her neck, “Your bravery,” moved to the collarbone. “You, Sweetheart. I love you.”

The princess opened her eyes, “I love you too, Cassian.”

And I love you two, as well, but Cassian please get off my sister we must leave soon. Rhys’s voice filled our minds and the two of us laughed as Cassian placed another kiss to her lips.

“I’ll be home before you’re able to miss me, General.” Estella whispered.

Cassian sighed and placed his head in the crook of her neck. “I always miss you, Stella.”

You Were Everything to Me

The human girl was hanging against the wall, her fear flooding her scent. This was the human girl that Rhys had found in Tamlin’s court. Estella had a hard time breathing. As the Attor unleashed another attack on the girl. Rhysand was standing by Amarantha, his face emotionless, and Estella wanted to scream to lash out, to save this girl from the torment. She wrapped her arms around herself, as the screams of the human girl rang out.

Estella released a whimper when a smooth warm hand gripped the female’s hip. The scent of Autumn leaves and cinnamon overtook her senses. His thumb rubbed a circle around her bare hip. “Come to my chambers tonight, Little Viper.” Eris breath grazed her pointed ear.

Estella gritted her teeth, fighting away the tears as the sound of the broken screams rang in her ears while the Attor continued his torment, “Why? Why do you insist on tormenting me, Eris? Mor wasn’t enough for you?”

Eris’ hand stilled, his nose grazed her skin, and her heart raced. “What do you know about that day, really, My Little Viper?” He held her close to him, “I expect you in my chambers when this is done, Estella. I mean, immediately after, no getting those cute little concoctions from your cell first. Or I may let our High Queen know about what you like to do to the males who request your services.” He gripped her hip tighter than her and smirked as a spark of arousal flooded her.  The feeling singed away when he removed his hand, and Estella reluctantly missed the comfort of his touch, as the human girl gave out a gurgled scream, causing the young female’s blood to run cold.

Hours of torment and Estella knew that those screams would haunt her forever. Her bare feet padded through the halls as an Autumn court sentinel led her to the Heir of Autumn’s chambers. When they reached the door Estella bowed her head, “Thank you.” She whispered and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” Eris’s voice muffled. The raven-haired beauty stepped inside, the red gown with a blunging neckline swished at her feet. “Hello, Viper.”

“Prick.” She retorted; her sharp blue eyes met his copper liked ones. “Let’s get this over with.” She began to pull the straps of her gown down when Eris raised his hand.

“I have no interest in sleeping with you Viper.” Eris rose from his chair; his orange vest lay over top his white tunic hugging his frame. His tanned pants tucked into his brown boots that looked as though they were recently shined. His red hair pulled halfway, and Estella couldn’t deny that he was the most beautiful man she had ever encountered, but he was a wild card and lethal and made Estella’s heartbeat erratically when he closed the distance between them. “I would like to keep my life intact thank you.”

Estella swallowed and her voice low, “Then what do you want with me, Princeling?”

Eris didn’t answer, instead his hands gripped hers and he pulled her into an embrace. The female blinked as Eris gripped her tightly. The kind gesture so foreign to her from anyone other than her brother in 50 years and the emotions erupted in her. She gripped the back of his vest and buried her face in his chest and erupted into sobs. Estella had no idea why he was doing this, or how he knew she needed this, but for this moment she allowed herself the comfort of letting out a half a century worth of feelings into his chest. As Eris rested his head atop hers, hand stroking her dark hair. His other hand rubbing her back almost soothingly.

After a few moments Eris picked her upholding her knees and her back and walked her over to the bed and he leaned against the headboard as the Princess of the Night Court sobbed into the chest of the Prince of the Autumn Court. The latter whispered soothing words in her ear and warmed his hands as an extra comfort for the Princess until exhaustion took over and the viper fell asleep in the arms of the fox.

Part 2

Story Tags: @milswrites @eve175 @melsunshine @believinghurts @awkardnerd @historygeekqueen @mischiefmanagers @mybestfriendmademe @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @glitterypirateduck @littlestw01f @mal-adaptive-dreams @lilah-asteria @hellodarling1357

[siriuslystyle1989]

Late Night Talking

Eris Vanserra x fem!reader

Summary: Eris Wakes in the middle of the night, Reader comforts him.

Warnings: Fluff, very slight mention of abuse, pet names.

Masterlist

Crumpled sheets moving sporadically underneath him, sweat making them cling to his back, Eris woke with a start. He could feel his heart beating irregularly in his chest, placing a hand on it in an attempt to stop it from heaving up and down.

Swallowing the build up of saliva that had formed, foaming in his mouth, Eris sucked in a shaking breath and turned to look at the clock.

2:35 AM.

"Eris?" his mates voice, laced with the remanence of sleep, seemed to snap him back to reality.

"Are you alright?" She spoke again, placing a comforting hand on his arm, surely realising it was slick with sweat.

"Yeah- yeah my love. I'm fine, go back to sleep." He spoke, offering her a small smile through the darkness.

"Well, you don't sound fine." She sassed back, sitting up and turning on the dim bedside lamp behind her to reveal her husband, sat straight up; auburn hair clinging to his forehead.

"What's up baby?" Y/n looked at Eris, sympathy gracing her features.

Eris just rubbed his face and sighed.

"I keep having these nightmares. Ones where I stand in the place of my Father. I'm cruel. Corrupt. I hurt you or- or we have children and I hurt them." Eris' eyes moved down to look at his hands.

"I'm starting to think, maybe... maybe I'm not cut out for this." He glanced up at Y/n before she shuffled towards him and placed her arms around his body.

Beron had died a few weeks ago. An elaborate plan between The Night Court's inner circle and Eris had been crafted carefully to make his death seem nothing more than an accident rather than an assassination.

"Eris." Y/n whispered into his hair, kissing it.

"You are not your father." Her voice was firm yet comforting as she ran a hand up and down his back.

"I know but what if-"

"You are not your father. Your Father was a cruel, greedy man who was purely interested in himself. You aren't the slightest bit like him. And I don't care how many times I have to say it to get it In your head but you are Eris Vanserra. You are not your Father."

Eris looked up to meet the eyes of his mate and gently lifted his head to connect his lips with hers.

"Thank you Y/n. I don't know what I'd do without you, truly." He smiled as she giggled a bit.

"It's a good job you won't have to find out then, I'm going to be here every step of the way and if you need me to tell you a hundred more times that you are nothing like that bastard, I will."

A/N: Im backkk, requests are open!!

[velidewrites]

Nesta has fire in her blood, and she fucks like it, too

[surielstea]

Embers Entwined

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader was one of the most affected by Beron’s rule, after his death Eris was crowned High Lord and Reader became his personal servant by extension, what happens when she begins to recognize Eris for his kindness and not his cruelty?

Warnings: Beron being a right asshole as usual, and some kissing (*gasp* the scandal!)

A.Note: Sorry it’s been forever!! This one took me awhile but I’m pretty happy with it. Hope you guys enjoy too! Some Azriel smut coming out in a few days also! 💋💋

Word count: 7.9k

The ball was decadent, far grander than in previous years, though I supposed tonight warranted the excess. A special occasion, one that carried far more meaning than the usual frivolous gatherings meant only to remind the rich of their own wealth.

Tonight, the Autumn Court celebrated the coronation of Eris Vanserra. More importantly to me, we celebrated Beron's death.

I would never say such a thing aloud, never give voice to the hatred that simmered in my veins. But I knew I was not alone in my sentiments. Most despised that wretched male—just not enough to ever act against him. Beron had been cruel, but only to those within his grasp. His wife. His sons. His staff. Me, in particular—his personal courtier.

It had been my duty to obey him without question, to smile and nod and endure, no matter what vile thing he asked of me. The words he'd spoken to me, the way he'd toyed with me, broken me, forced me into submission—I would never find peace after him. I knew that.

I stood against the wall of the ballroom, my hands clasped in front of me, a pleasant, vacant smile painted on my lips. The same as always. My black dress marked me as staff, distinguishing me from the nobles twirling beneath the golden glow of the chandeliers. It wasn't an ugly dress—not physically—but the symbolism it carried made my stomach churn.

I was meant to be invisible. To stand for hours, heels biting into my feet, lips aching from feigned delight, waiting. Always waiting for the High Lord's command. That was my place.

But tonight, for the first time at an event like this, someone spoke to me. Not just someone. The newly crowned High Lord.

"Do you not wish to dance?"

His voice was smoother than I expected, rich and effortless, as though the words required no thought. When I turned my head, Eris Vanserra stood before me, resplendent in his deep forest green attire, gold-threaded embroidery glinting beneath the chandeliers. Rings adorned his fingers, catching the light as he gestured vaguely toward the center of the ballroom.

I had known Eris Vanserra since I was a girl—back when my father served as Beron's personal courtier and I trained under him, shadowing his every move. In those early years, Eris and I spent countless hours in the kennels, where I had been sent to feed the hounds, and he had sought my company. Even then, I knew better than to refuse a Vanserra. But it hadn't felt like an order. Not when he spoke so passionately about his dogs, his amber eyes alight with something rare and unguarded.

I had listened, quietly captivated, as he ran his hands through thick fur, naming each hound like they were something precious, something his father could not tarnish. And though I rarely spoke, I knew he never minded.

But time had a way of reshaping things. Our duties grew heavier, our paths diverged, and whatever thread had once tied us together frayed beneath the weight of expectation. I often wondered if he remembered—the girl who once sat beside him in the straw-covered kennels, listening in rapt silence as he spoke of things he loved. Or if I had faded into nothing more than a ghost of his childhood, long forgotten.

I snapped back to the present when I realized my hesitation, startled by his presence, by his question. By him.

I glanced at him only briefly before averting my gaze. I had long since learned better than to expect kindness from the Vanserras, Eris or not. "I'm working, my lord," I answered smoothly, forcing the usual mask into place. "Besides, the late Lord Beron was always particular about the servantry enjoying themselves at these sorts of things."

A flicker of something crossed Eris's face at my words. Perhaps it was amusement, perhaps something else. I wasn't certain. Then, he did something I never would have expected. He extended his hand to me, palm up. A silent command. I stared at it, my heart stuttering.

Was this a trick? A test? Was he waiting for me to disobey so he could remind me of my place? "Well," he mused, tilting his head, "I'm not Beron, am I?"

I swallowed thickly, but I did not take his hand. His amber eyes gleamed as he studied me, something unreadable lurking beneath their molten depths. "You were my father's personal courtier, yes?"

"Correct, my lord."

"And now that he's gone, you're mine." A statement, not a question.

I nodded.

"And you're required to do as I say."

Another nod.

"Then take my hand." His voice was softer now, quieter. "Dance with me." My breath caught in my throat. I hesitated. Was he attempting to humiliate me?

I had seen what his brothers were capable of, how they had reveled in Beron's cruelty, how they had wielded it against others for their own entertainment. I had heard the stories about Eris—his ruthlessness, his ambition, his callous disregard for those beneath him. I had no reason to believe he was any different.

Yet something about the way he stood there, hand still outstretched, gaze unwavering, made my stomach tighten. He wasn't forcing me. He wasn't demanding. He was patient. I hated him for that. For making me doubt my own certainty.

But in the end, I had no choice. With a deep inhale, I placed my hand in his. His fingers curled around mine—warm, steady. Not gripping. But I knew better than to believe in illusions.

Eris Vanserra was his father's son. And I would never trust him.

The moment my hand settled in his, a hush seemed to fall over the space around us—not total silence, but a ripple in the atmosphere, a shift in attention that pressed against my skin like a physical thing.

They were watching. The nobles, the courtiers, the sycophants who had spent years learning to fear and obey Beron, and by extension, his eldest son. They watched, likely waiting for me to make a mistake, waiting to see what game Eris Vanserra was playing.

I was waiting, too. But if this was some cruel trick, he did not let it show.

Eris led me toward the dance floor with unhurried ease, his grip firm but not forceful. A reminder, perhaps, that I was following him willingly. I didn't know what unsettled me more—that he had given me a real choice, or that, despite knowing better, a part of me wanted to believe he truly meant no harm.

The moment we stepped onto the floor, the nearest dancers shifted subtly away, giving us space without making it obvious. No one wanted to be caught in the High Lord's wake, in whatever he was planning.

He turned to face me, releasing my hand only to settle one warm palm against my waist, the other clasping mine once more. I stiffened beneath his touch, the weight of it burning even through the fabric of my dress.

"Relax," he murmured, amusement curling through his tone. "It's a dance, not an execution."

I forced my muscles to remain neutral, my expression placid, though I could still feel the weight of a hundred gazes searing into me. "That remains to be seen."

His lips curved slightly. "If I wanted to make a spectacle of you, I'd have chosen something far more dramatic." He guided me into movement, a slow, fluid step that I had no choice but to follow. "But I much prefer this."

I nearly scoffed, but reeled in my tone, replacing it with a polite one. "Dancing?"

His gaze flickered down to mine, something unreadable within it. "Yes," he admitted, voice quieter now. "It's one of the few things I enjoy."

I arched a brow at him, skepticism bleeding into my tone. "Truly?"

"Truly." A small pause, then, "My mother taught me."

His hold on my waist remained steady, his movements effortless as he guided me through the waltz. "She used to say that knowing how to dance was just as important as knowing how to wield a blade. Both would assist me on a battle field."

I couldn't stop the flicker of surprise at his admission. Not because I doubted his mother's wisdom—if anything, I had always pitied the Lady of Autumn, the horrors she must have endured under Beron's rule—but because I had not expected Eris to share something so personal.

And yet, before I could decide how to respond, he added, "It was the one thing Beron couldn't take from me."

I swallowed, focusing on my movements, on the way his body angled just to keep me steady, to keep the dance seamless.

He was watching me closely, I could feel it. I hated that I could feel it.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice quieter than before, as if the words might shatter between us.

His lips twitched, though there was something different in his expression now. A quiet sort of challenge. "Because you're expecting me to be my father."

I stiffened.

"I'm not," he continued, tone smooth, unwavering. "And I think you already know that."

I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing down the retort that sat at the edge of my tongue. I wanted to deny it.

Wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I had no reason to believe him, that I had no reason to trust him. That, after what I had endured, I had no space left in me for blind hope. But I couldn't. Because, for the first time, I allowed myself to see him—not the heir of Beron Vanserra, not the male who had stood by and done nothing while his father ruled with malice, but the High Lord before me now.

Eris Vanserra was dangerous, cunning, and far too quick-witted for his own good. But he was not his father. And as much as I hated it, as much as it made something twist deep in my chest—

He was also undeniably beautiful.

His russet hair gleamed beneath the chandelier light, his sharp, angular features like something carved from fine marble. And those eyes—deep amber, filled with fire and calculation, but not cruelty. Never cruelty. It unnerved me.

I averted my gaze, the pressure in my throat tightening. "I don't know anything."

His fingers flexed slightly against my waist, the only indication that he had caught the tremor in my voice.

"You will," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. A promise.

I did not know whether it was a comfort or a threat. But I did know one thing—

The game, whatever it was, had only just begun.

As the waltz came to an end, Eris's grip on me loosened, but he did not immediately step away. His amber eyes remained locked onto mine, searching, calculating—always calculating.

I did not look away. I refused to.

Even as my heart pounded against my ribs, even as my throat tightened with the weight of memories that clawed at the back of my mind, I held his gaze.

He exhaled softly, something almost amused flickering in his expression before he lifted my hand, his touch lingering just enough to send a sharp jolt of awareness through me.

Then, with a deliberate slowness that sent heat curling in my gut, Eris pressed a kiss to the back of my hand.

A calculated move. A display of power.

And yet—his lips were warm. Gentle.

He let my hand slip from his grasp, stepping back with an air of ease, as though he had not just sent my already-frazzled mind into chaos.

"Thank you for the dance," he murmured, voice like silk and embers.

I said nothing. Because I couldn't. I simply bowed my head and turned away, ignoring the stares, the whispers that followed me as I slipped back into the shadows of the ballroom.

Eris Vanserra was dangerous. And not for the reasons I had always believed.

I had not been able to get him out of my head.

I hated it.

No matter how much I tried to shove the thoughts away—to remind myself of the horrors I had endured under Beron, of the way his sons had stood idly by for years, of the haunting whispers that surrounded Eris himself—I couldn't stop replaying that moment in my mind.

The warmth of his touch. The softness of his voice. The way he had looked at me, not with hatred, not with indifference, but with something else entirely.

It was a trick. Had to be. And yet, I found myself watching him more than I should have.

Every time he called for something, every time I had to be in his presence, I bowed low, just as I had always done for Beron. I kept my voice neutral, my head down, my routine unchanged.

As if nothing had changed at all. As if I had not danced with him. As if his hands had not burned against my skin. As if I had not spent the past few days wondering, against all reason, if perhaps he was not as evil as I had once believed.

I would not let myself believe it. Not when I had learned, time and time again, that kindness was a dangerous illusion.

So when one of the guards found me in the halls, stopping me with a clipped, "The High Lord is requesting you," a cold dread curled in my stomach.

Requesting me. Not a general summons for any courtiers. Not a task that could have been handled by anyone else. Me.

For a moment, I couldn't move. Memories crashed through me—memories of Beron's summons, of being called for with no warning, no explanation. Of standing before him, knowing what was coming but never being able to predict just how bad it would be.

My hands clenched at my sides. I swallowed hard, pushing down the panic, shoving it deep beneath layers of practiced control.

This was not Beron. I knew that. And yet, my body did not.

With carefully measured steps, I made my way to Eris's study, every inch of me wound tight.

My mind whispered warnings, my heart pounded against my ribs. I forced my hands to remain steady as I knocked once, then pushed the heavy wooden door open.

And there he was—seated behind a grand desk, amber eyes lifting to meet mine the second I entered.

Eris Vanserra, High Lord of Autumn.

And the male who, for reasons I could not begin to understand, had called for me.

I braced myself, preparing for whatever awaited me next. And prayed that I was not about to be proven a fool.

The door shut behind me with a soft thud, the sound too final, too reminiscent of a past I wanted to claw away from.

I stayed near the entrance, hands clasped in front of me, chin dipped ever so slightly—not meek, but neutral. Just as I had been trained to be.

Eris sat at his desk, one elbow braced on the armrest of his chair, fingers resting against his temple as he watched me. Not impatient. Not cruel. Just watching. Then, with that signature tilt of his head, he asked, "What's your name?"

I blinked. "My name?"

He arched a golden brow, the flickering candlelight making the sharp angles of his face seem all the more severe.

"I'd like to know who to call for to keep my company, so yes, your name."

Company. Was this a game? A test?

I studied him, searching for the trap, but found nothing except expectation.

I told him my name carefully, waiting for the moment his expression would shift, for him to sneer or mock or twist the knowledge into something mean.

But he only smiled slightly, a soft curve of his lips that felt almost out of place on a face like his.

Before I could think better of it, before I could convince myself to stay silent, I blurted, "Have you been lonely, my lord?"

Eris's head tilted further, amusement flashing in his amber eyes.

I stiffened immediately. "Forgive me for asking. That was incredibly impolite. I'm so—"

"I have." He cut me off smoothly, his voice quieter now, but no less firm.

I swallowed.

"I imagined being High Lord would be quite different," he mused, gaze flickering to the stacks of papers on his desk, the glowing hearth, the empty room around us. "Nevertheless, here we are." He nodded as if conceding something to himself.

My lips parted slightly, but I had nothing to say to that. Nothing that wouldn't cross a line I was still hesitant to even approach.

Instead, I dropped into another practiced bow. "Will that be all, my lord?"

His eyes snapped back to me, something unreadable stirring behind them.

"Eris," he corrected.

I hesitated.

"I am not my father," he said, voice quiet but edged with finality, as if he were daring me to argue. "Nor do I wish to become him. So please, call me Eris."

I nodded slowly. "...Well then, Lord Eris."

"Just Eris, my dear," he corrected again, leaning back slightly. "Like friends."

I didn't know what startled me more—that he wanted me to call him by his name, or that he had referred to me as a friend.

Still, I tried to ignore the warmth curling in my stomach as I forced myself to say, "Eris."

His lips twitched, something satisfied gleaming in his gaze. "Good girl."

The praise sent something unfamiliar down my spine, not in the way it had whenever Beron complimented me... this was different.

"Now come, get comfortable." He gestured toward the plush green chairs adjacent to his desk.

I stared at him. "You want me to sit?"

"Stand, lean, lay, I don't care." He waved a lazy hand. "Just relax."

"My lord—Eris," I corrected, still trying to wrap my mind around the strangeness of this entire interaction. "I don't get paid to... relax."

He smirked. "No, you get paid to follow my orders. And I am ordering you to get comfortable."

I stared at him for a long moment, my heart hammering in my chest as I tried to decipher the true meaning behind all of this.

But I saw no malice in his expression. No cruel intent. Just anticipation.

I swallowed and, slowly, I did as he said. I sat stiffly, hands clasped in my lap, my back straight as if Beron himself was still lurking behind me, waiting to scold me for stepping out of line.

Eris, however, did not acknowledge my rigid posture. He only let out a pleased hum, as if my mere presence was enough to meet whatever unspoken standard he had set for this moment. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he returned his focus to the parchment before him.

The only sounds in the room were the quiet scratching of his quill and the faint crackling of the candlelight.

I should have been grateful for the silence. It was better than savage words, better than commands meant to humiliate me. But instead, an odd tension settled in my chest, as if I were waiting for the real reason he'd called me here to be revealed.

Minutes passed. Then—

"You're staring," Eris murmured without looking up.

I blinked, feeling heat creep up my neck. "I am not."

His lips curved slightly, and he flipped to another parchment. "You are."

"I was merely looking in your direction." It was wrong of me to talk back, but something about him let my tongue a little looser, he didn't seem displeased by it in the slightest.

He hummed, unconvinced, dipping his quill back into ink. "And why, pray tell, were you looking in my direction?"

I hesitated. "...I was thinking."

Amber eyes flicked up from the page. "Dangerous habit."

That small smirk still played on his lips, but something about it was softer than usual, teasing rather than taunting.

I frowned, not ready for this interaction to feel comfortable, for me to feel comfortable. "I don't find it particularly dangerous."

"That's because you've never played with fire." He twirled the quill between his fingers before dragging the tip across the parchment again. "Not the kind that burns."

I scoffed. "You forget who I served before you."

He paused at that, glancing at me fully and my heart rate spiked. Too far, I'd gone too far, just a few words and the walls I built were crumbling before my very eyes.

Something unreadable flickered in his expression, but it was gone before I could place it. Instead, he dipped his head slightly, understanding the point. "Then I imagine you know better than most that fire, when wielded incorrectly, only ever destroys."

I stiffened, his words striking something deep within me.

Is that what I was? A thing destroyed? Is that what he saw when looking at me, or himself?

Eris exhaled, shifting his focus back to his work. "For what it's worth," he murmured, quieter now, "I don't intend to wield it incorrectly."

I studied him carefully, as I had done many times before, searching for the game, for the cruel edge I knew so well from his father.

But there was no trick. Only a High Lord—no, a male—focused on his work, offering me something I had never once been granted in Beron's court.

Peace.

I swallowed, forcing myself to look away, to ignore the unfamiliar warmth creeping into my bones.

Minutes passed again in silence, but this time, it didn't feel quite so heavy.

"I was serious, you know," Eris mused, not bothering to look up as he broke the quiet.

I frowned. "About what?"

"Keeping my company." He flipped to another document, signing something at the bottom. "I'd prefer your presence over my advisors any day. They're old and dull. You, at least, have some spirit."

I scoffed. "I think you are confusing obedience for spirit."

"Oh no, my dear." His lips curved in a knowing smirk. "You and I both know you're anything but obedient."

I bristled, opening my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand. "It's alright. I find it... refreshing."

I wasn't sure what unsettled me more—the implication, or the way my stomach twisted at his words. Beron preferred all the servantry to have a fiery spirit, which makes it more fun to break, but he never really could stomp my flames out, and now Eris was sparking the embers. It was dangerous, so dangerous.

Silence fell between us once more.

For a moment, I thought that would be the end of it. That I would sit there, a piece of furniture in this room while he worked, just as I had been in Beron's court.

But then, without looking away from his parchment, Eris murmured, "Tell me something, Fawn."

The way he said that nickname—so deliberate, like he was testing the way it felt on his tongue—sent something sharp down my spine.

"Tell you what?" I asked carefully.

He leaned back slightly, fingers steepled in thought. "Something real."

I hesitated. "That's vague."

"Intentionally so." He arched a brow. "Consider it a challenge."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but he only waited, watching me with that same expectant look, as if he truly wanted to hear something about me.

I exhaled. "I don't like the cold."

His lips twitched. "A courtier of Autumn who doesn't like the cold? Shocking, really." His voice was sarcastic, but something in his eyes told me he knew what I meant.

I shrugged, explaining anyway. "It reminds me of your father." The words left me before I could stop them, before I could think better of them.

Eris didn't flinch, but something in his expression shifted. "I hate the cold, too," he admitted after a beat.

I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty.

He returned his attention to the paper in front of him, but his next words were soft, almost contemplative.

"It's why I keep the fire going."

And despite everything I had come to know about Eris Vanserra—despite everything I feared—those words stayed with me long after I left his study that night.

It became routine.

Every evening, after the day's duties were done, I was summoned to Eris's study. At first, I had thought it was some kind of test, some trick to lull me into a false sense of security before he reminded me of my place. But the days passed, and the cruel words never came. The taunts never sharpened into something harsher.

Instead, I found myself sitting across from him as he worked, the fire crackling between us, filling the silence in ways neither of us felt the need to.

And I was learning things.

Not just about him—but about myself.

I learned that despite being raised under Beron's thumb, Eris did not rule with a hand of iron. He listened—to his advisors, to the reports of the court, to me, even. And when I spoke, he truly listened, as if my words meant something.

More recently I learned that he was—Gods help me—attractive.

That fact had been easy enough to ignore when I hated him, when I thought he was just another Beron in the making. But the more time I spent with him, the more I noticed things I shouldn't—like the sharp angles of his face, the golden hue of his eyes, the way his hands moved across parchment with effortless precision.

It was incredibly inappropriate.

He was a High Lord, for the Gods' sake. I was a mere servant. A courtier, yes, but still beneath him in every sense of the word.

But there were moments—subtle, fleeting—where I felt that he didn't see it that way.

Like when he'd catch me staring and smirk, as if he knew exactly where my thoughts had gone. Like when his fingers would brush against mine as he handed me a book, a touch so brief it might have been an accident, but my traitorous body knew better. Like when he said my name—not the way Beron used to, as if I were an object, a thing that existed for his whims, but as if I were someone worth hearing.

It was dangerous. He was dangerous. And yet, I kept returning to his study, night after night, drawn to him in ways I did not understand.

I was comfortable around him now. Too comfortable. And I wasn't sure if that terrified me or eased me more.

The fire crackled behind him, casting golden light over the room as I sat at his desk, scanning over the trade agreements he had asked me to review. Eris stood in front of the hearth, a glass of whiskey in his hand, watching the flames with a contemplative expression.

"They're bleeding the smaller villages dry," I murmured, flipping to the next page. "The tariffs are nearly double what they should be."

Eris hummed in response, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "And what do you suggest, fawn?" His voice was rich, edged with amusement.

I exhaled sharply through my nose, biting back a smile at the teasing lilt in his tone. "Lowering them would be a start."

He took a slow sip of whiskey, then turned, his gaze burning even hotter than the fire behind him. "Very well. Lower them."

I blinked. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." He smirked, as if amused by my surprise. "You have a sharp mind. It would be a waste not to use it."

A compliment. A genuine one.

I busied myself with the documents, ignoring the warmth that curled in my stomach. But before I could shift to the next matter, I felt it—him.

The space between us disappeared in a breath. Eris leaned over my shoulder, one hand bracing against the desk as he peered down at the papers with me.

His warmth seeped through the thin fabric of my dress, his scent—smoke, cedar, spice—curling around me, intoxicating. I stiffened, my fingers tightening around the quill.

"See?" His voice was softer now, smooth like velvet. "That wasn't so hard."

I swallowed, forcing my focus back to the parchment. "I assume the next set of reports won't be as easy."

His chuckle was low, deep. "Unfortunately, no."

We worked through the rest of it together, his proximity never wavering, his breath occasionally ghosting against my cheek as he murmured his thoughts. It should have been unbearable. It was unbearable. And yet, I didn't pull away.

Not even when he poured me a glass of whiskey.

I had refused at first, telling him I was technically working but he had simply raised an eyebrow and said, "I won't tell the high lord if you don't."

It burned going down, leaving warmth in its wake, emboldening me just enough to loosen the tight grip I always held on myself.

Perhaps that was why, when we finally leaned back in our chairs, the tension of duty momentarily relieved, I dared to meet his gaze with something close to ease.

"You're a better High Lord than I expected," I admitted, surprising myself with the honesty.

He turned his glass between his fingers, watching me over the rim. "High praise, coming from you."

I rolled my eyes, but the smallest of smiles played at my lips. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late," he quipped, grinning.

I shook my head, but I wasn't fast enough to hide the way my lips twitched in amusement.

Eris noticed. Of course, he did. And he leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming. "Careful, fawn. Keep looking at me like that, and I'll think you actually enjoy my company."

I should have ignored the remark. Should have cut the moment short, should have reminded myself that this was Eris, that I was his courtier and nothing more.

But the whiskey hummed in my blood, and I found myself tilting my chin up slightly, arching a brow.

"Who said I don't?"

His gaze darkened, a flicker of something wicked dancing in those golden eyes.

The air between us tightened, the tension shifting into something heavier, something dangerous.

And for the first time, I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted to run from it.

The room was suffocating with heat—not just from the fire, but from him. From the way he looked at me, like he could see through every carefully placed wall I had built around myself.

I should have left. Should have bowed my head, murmured a polite good night, and returned to the servantry quarters where I belonged.

But I didn't.

Instead, I stayed, rooted in place, watching the way Eris's eyes flickered between my lips and my eyes. The tension stretched unbearably tight, wound so thin that one more word, one more breath, would surely snap it.

And then it did.

One moment, we were speaking, our words slow and softened by whiskey. The next—I was in his arms, and his mouth was on mine.

It was a collision, a wildfire consuming everything in its path.

His lips were searing, his hands gripping my waist as if he couldn't bear to let go, pulling me flush against him. I gasped into the kiss, and he took full advantage, deepening it, his tongue sweeping over mine in a way that made my knees threaten to buckle.

He groaned, low and guttural, and something inside me snapped.

I met his fervor with my own, fingers tangling in his hair, feeling the silk of it between my fingertips as he backed me into the desk. The papers we had worked so hard on crumpled beneath us, utterly forgotten.

He exhaled a quiet curse against my lips as his hands gripped my hips tighter, and I—I didn't stop him. I arched into him, into the warmth, the danger of it.

And then—it happened.

A tether snapped into place.

Invisible, undeniable, unyielding.

My entire body locked up as a force stronger than anything I had ever known latched onto my very soul. The bond—a mating bond—solidified between us like molten steel cooling into iron, a force so absolute it stole the air from my lungs.

No, no, no.

I stumbled back so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet, my hand flying to my lips as if I could erase what had just happened.

Eris reached for me, eyes wide, something dangerously close to awe written across his sharp features. "Wait—"

But I didn't.

I turned and ran.

I ignored the way his voice followed me, calling my name, ignored the way my heart thundered in my chest, the way my mind screamed at me that this was impossible, that it couldn't be real, that it shouldn't be real.

Because if it was—if it was real—then it meant I was bound to him. To him.

Not just the male who had been slipping under my skin, infiltrating the cold emptiness I had built to protect myself. But Beron's son. Beron's heir. A Vanserra. A High Lord.

By the time I reached the servantry quarters, my breaths were ragged, my hands shaking as I shoved my door closed behind me, locking it with trembling fingers.

I pressed my back against the wood, squeezing my eyes shut.

This couldn't be happening. It was a mistake. A trick. A cruel, cruel joke.

I was nothing.

A courtier, a servant.

I did not get to have mates.

And certainly not him.

I curled onto my cot, my hands gripping the fabric of my dress as if I could anchor myself back to reality. I forced my breathing to slow, willed myself to forget the feeling of his lips, the taste of whiskey on his tongue, the way his hands had fit so perfectly against my waist.

I did not sleep that night.

I had been avoiding him.

Days had passed, and I hadn't stepped foot in his study again. I hadn't so much as looked in his direction, even as the court whispered about me, about us, about the undeniable scent of a bond snapping into place.

They all knew.

I could feel their stares, the pity in some, the amusement in others. I knew what they thought—that it was only a matter of time before I bent, before I folded myself into the neat little role fate had carved out for me at Eris's side.

I refused.

I stayed tucked away, keeping to my duties, bowing as I always had when in his presence, keeping my head low, silent. I had done it for years under Beron. I could do it again.

Or at least, I thought I could.

The bond had other plans.

It had been clawing at me, a sick, twisting thing in my chest, gnawing at my ribs every time I kept my distance. The more I ignored it, the worse it became, a restless, aching pressure that built until my hands trembled with the need to do something—run to him, scream, sob. I didn't know which.

I was too caught up in my own mind, too focused on fighting the invisible thread tethering me to him, that I didn't notice the male approaching me until it was too late.

"You've been rather elusive, haven't you?"

I turned sharply, expecting him, expecting Eris—

But it wasn't him.

It was Kyden.

My stomach twisted.

Kyden Vanserra had always taken the most after Beron compared to the rest of his brothers, cruel for the sake of cruelty, sneering down at those he deemed beneath him. Which unfortunately included me.

His smirk was slow, predatory. "I almost mistook you for one of the nobility, standing there all stiff and proper. But then I remembered—you're just a servant, aren't you?"

I forced my body not to react, not to let the memories claw their way up my throat. He had that same look in his tawny eyes that Beron always had on one of the particularly hard days.

Kyden stepped closer, voice a lazy drawl. "And yet, despite your lowly position, you managed to ensnare a High Lord." His lips curled, eyes gleaming with something dark. "Or rather, the bond did. Funny, isn't it? How fate makes fools of us all."

I kept my chin high, my hands at my sides. I would not cower.

He leaned in, his breath brushing against my ear. "You reek of him."

I flinched. Kyden chuckled. "It's amusing, really. Eris, of all people, shackled to someone like you." His gaze flickered over me, assessing, and I knew that look—I had seen it before, a lifetime ago, picking apart my worth, deciding how best to use me.

"What do you think he'll do?" Kyden mused. "Surely, you don't believe he'll actually keep you. A High Lord's mate should be powerful, worthy." He tutted. "You are neither."

The words hit their mark, sinking into my skin like tiny blades, because deep down I knew he was right. This is why I've been avoiding Eris, avoiding having that confrontation that will only result in rejection and sorrow.

"I wonder," he continued, tilting his head, "how long it will take before he grows bored of you. Before he realizes you're nothing more than the same little courtier Beron used to—"

A deep, guttural snarl split the air.

And then Kyden was no longer in my space, no longer crowding me like a looming shadow.

Eris had him by the collar, dragging him back, his teeth bared in a vicious snarl beside his brother's throat.

"Say another word," Eris hissed, voice like fire crackling over dry wood, "and I will tear out your fucking tongue."

Kyden, to his credit, did not flinch. He only grinned. "Touched a nerve, did I?"

Eris's fingers tightened, the flames in the nearby sconces flaring wildly.

"Walk away, Kyden," Eris said, voice quieter now, deadlier. "I raised you better than this."

A beat of silence. Then Kyden huffed a laugh, shoving Eris off him with a roll of his shoulders.

"As you wish, brother." He turned to me, and there was something smug in his eyes, something knowing. "See you around, little courtier."

And then he was gone.

Eris exhaled harshly, running a hand through his hair before turning to me.

"Are you—"

I shook my head, stepping back. "Don't."

His jaw tensed.

I couldn't do this. Not here. Not now.

The hallway was silent except for the distant clatter of pots and the hushed murmurs of servants slipping past us, their eyes darting away the moment they caught sight of Eris. I could still feel the ghost of Kyden's words slithering over my skin, the way he had looked at me, spoken to me. But more than that—I could feel the weight of Eris's gaze, burning into me as if he were unraveling every thought in my head.

I didn't want to look at him. Didn't want to feel the way I did when he looked at me.

His amber eyes flickered with something unreadable, something heavy and tense. He hadn't moved since Kyden left, his hands clenched at his sides, as if he was still fighting the urge to chase his brother down and finish what he started.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. We stood nearly a yard away from each other in the servants' passages, the house was so vast that to get from place to place quicker in the manor there were secret paths to take. It was odd for the High Lord to even know about them.

I swallowed hard, then whispered, "Why are you here?"

Eris blinked, as if startled by the question. And then, with the ghost of a smirk, he drawled, "It's my house, isn't it?"

I narrowed my eyes. "You know what I mean."

More silence.

His smirk faded.

"I was looking for you," he admitted finally.

I stared at him, heart hammering against my ribs. "You could've called for me."

His expression darkened, and he took a step closer. "Would you have come?"

I said nothing.

He huffed a bitter laugh. "That's what I thought."

I clenched my hands into fists, nails biting into my palms. "It's my job, Eris," I whispered.

His jaw flexed. His fingers twitched—like he wanted to reach for me, wanted to touch me—but he didn't. Instead, he just stood there, looking more defeated than I'd ever imagined a Vanserra could.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" I asked, my voice quieter now, because we were standing a distance apart with maids and cooks scuttling silently past us, pretending they weren't listening, pretending they couldn't see the invisible string between us.

Eris studied me for a long moment, then nodded. Without another word, he turned on his heel, leading the way.

I followed.

The room he brought me to was small, tucked away in one of the unused wings of the estate. A study, maybe, or a reading room—the kind of place someone could go to disappear.

He shut the door behind me, and then we were alone.

Eris exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Are you alright?"

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "I don't know."

His jaw tightened. "Kyden—"

"I don't want to talk about Kyden."

He stared at me for a moment, then nodded. "Then talk to me about something else."

I let out a breath. "About what, Eris?"

He stepped closer, slow and careful, as if I were something fragile. "About why you've been avoiding me."

I scoffed. "You know why."

"I want to hear you say it."

I met his gaze, and the heat in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine. "Because this—" I gestured between us. "—isn't supposed to happen. Because you're a High Lord, and I'm a servant, and this bond—" I swallowed hard. "It's cruel."

Eris's expression was unreadable, but his fingers twitched again, and I wondered if he even realized he kept doing that—kept stopping himself from touching me. "You think the Mother is cruel?"

I hesitated. "I think fate is."

Eris exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Do you hate it that much?"

I didn't answer.

Did I?

Hate was easy. Hate was something I understood, something I could hold onto. Hate had kept me alive under Beron's rule, had hardened me, protected me.

But this? This tether between us, this thing that hummed in my chest, that made my body ache to close the distance between us—

I didn't have a name for it. And that scared me more than anything.

Eris watched me carefully, as if searching for something in my expression. He let out another sigh and retreated, taking a seat on the small leather couch adjacent to the popping fireplace. I watched him silently, still standing by the door.

"I never wanted this either," he admitted, voice softer now. "I spent years ensuring I would never be bound to someone who could be used against me. And yet..." His lips quirked into something bitter. "Yet here we are."

My throat felt tight. "Do you hate it?"

His amber eyes burned. "No."

The breath I took was unsteady.

"You never answered?" he looked up at me.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Shook my head. "I don't know."

Eris nodded once, as if that answer was enough.

Silence stretched between us again.

Finally, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "You don't have to accept it," he said. "Not now. Not ever, if that's what you choose." He met my gaze, something like resignation flickering in his eyes. "But I won't apologize for it."

He wanted to keep it? Wanted me to accept it?

I swallowed against the lump in my throat.

He tilted his head, considering me. "So what now?"

I shook my head. "I don't know."

A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips. "That's twice now."

I scowled. "Shut up."

He chuckled. "I suppose I should be grateful I got anything out of you at all."

I rolled my eyes, but there was no bite to it.

Eris studied me again, quieter this time. "I meant what I said," he murmured. "I was looking for you."

I looked away. "I know."

Silence settled between us again, but it was different now. Less suffocating.

More dangerous.

Because I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep pretending I didn't want him to find me. I approached his side quietly and sat.

The leather couch was cool against my skin as I sank into it beside him, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. The bond thrummed like a second heartbeat, relentless and inescapable.

The son of the man I loathed most in this world was the one I was expected to love beyond reason.

Fate was a sick, twisted thing.

I sighed, tired of thinking, tired of fighting, tired of everything. Slowly, hesitantly, I tilted my head, letting it rest against his shoulder. His body stiffened for a fraction of a second before he relaxed, exhaling a breath I might've imagined.

It was enough for now.

"I'm High Lord," he said after a beat.

"Painfully aware," I murmured.

"Meaning—there are rules of the Autumn Court that I can... simply get rid of."

I huffed a soft, tired laugh. "You're a lord, not a king."

"Mm, true," he mused, tilting his head back against the couch, "but if Rhysand can bend the rules to marry his mate, so can I."

I hesitated. "His court is much more pliable. Autumn is notorious for its... old-fashioned ways."

"Well, the Autumn Court has a new High Lord." His voice was steady, sure. "Let's just hope I'm changing it for the better."

I smiled faintly, my eyes fluttering shut. "You are, 'Ris."

The name slipped out before I could think better of it, before I could remind myself that familiarity with him was dangerous.

His body went still beneath me.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he looked down at me, amber eyes burning with something I couldn't name.

We stared at each other for a long moment, really seeing each other.

And then, quietly, almost reverently, he murmured, "I'm going to kiss you now."

I nodded.

And then he did.

His lips pressed against mine, slow and deep, as if we had all the time in the world. As if the bond wasn't something to be feared but something to be savored. His hand lifted to my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone before sliding into my hair, tilting my face up, pressing deeper.

I sighed into him, gripping the front of his tunic as the bond pulsed between us, as the warmth of his body and the scent of campfire and rainy mornings wrapped around me like something familiar, something I could fall into.

It should have scared me.

But all I could do was kiss him back.

Eris pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my lips. My heart pounded, my thoughts a chaotic mess, but the bond hummed in quiet contentment—as if it had known all along that this was inevitable.

His fingers stayed tangled in my hair, his other hand still cupping my jaw, holding me there, keeping me grounded. "We'll figure this out," he murmured, voice low, steady. Sure.

I let out a slow breath, my hands still fisted in his tunic. "You make it sound so simple."

"It doesn't have to be complicated."

I swallowed hard, my mind already spinning with the realities of what this meant, what it could mean. But as I looked at him, at the quiet determination in his gaze, at the warmth that had nothing to do with the firelight flickering around us, I found myself wanting—just for a moment—to believe him.

So I nodded, just barely.

His lips brushed my temple, lingering there for a heartbeat before he leaned back, his hand finally slipping from my hair. "One step at a time, my dear."

I exhaled, my pulse still thrumming in my throat, and echoed, "One step at a time."

And maybe, just maybe, we'd find our way through this. Together.

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[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part III

Word count: 3900+

Warnings: a lot of anxiety and panic attacks (our reader have a tough time adjusting to the new life), also little smut(ish)

Autumn themed divider by tsunami-of-tears

Part II | Part IV

The morning found you curled up in the ottoman, peacefully sleeping. A knock sounded on the double doors and you jolted up looking around the unfamiliar room. As your brain got rid of the heavy fog of the sleep, all memories of the last day popped out and you sighed heavily. Your gaze fell to the bed and you immediately sat up, eyes wide. The bed was made, no one slept in it. You quickly checked up your body. And apparently you were just as untouched as that bed. You were confused as well as relieved. You didn't understand. How was it possible? You and your husband were supposed to do.. something. Did he not come? Or he came in, found you sleeping and left? Angry? And where did he sleep?

Another knock sounded, snapping you out of your thoughts before you started spiraling. You weren't sure what to do, so you went and opened the doors a little. Same maids were waiting there and as last night bowed.

"Good morning, my lady. We came to help you to prepare."

"Prepare? For what?"

They looked at each other with raised brows. "For the day, madame," the other one answered.

Blushing you stepped back letting them in and they immediately set to work. Even if they noticed the untouched bed, they didn't show any signs nor commented it. While you were getting dressed, servants brought breakfast to that small dinning table you saw last night. You bit on your lower lip when you saw only one plate.

"What about.. my husband?"

"His Lordship has already eaten. He woke up early in the morning and currently is at the meeting," one of the maids answered with a light nod to the doors opposite of yours. After that they all left leaving you to eat alone.

You were sitting there, staring at the food while it stared back at you. You had no appetite. Again and again you replayed every minute of the wedding ceremony and the party, looking for any serious mistake you'd done. You certainly did something otherwise he would have come last night. You thought that you were on quite good terms with your husband based on the fact that you were secretly holding hands most of the last evening.

This was bad, so bad. It was a catastrophe. Your father had to already know about everything, he always did. He was certainly so furious. You dreaded to meet him. Moreover if your husband decided to send you back, you definitely wouldn't live to see another day. Father would kill you right away before you even left this place. He didn't need someone as useless as you. There was no way he would forgive you. It wasn't in his nature. High Lord was the highest offer you could get. There was nothing better than that. Your father wouldn't accept any lower offer now.

You couldn't breathe. Panic gripped your insides, suffocating you. If you were back home, you would crawl to the space between your bed and the wall. It was so narrow that you hardly fitted in, but you felt safe there. You used to spend there even whole night after beating or when you were scared like now, you simply hid there and waited until the feeling faded away.

When walls started to close in on you, you left the food as it was and closed yourself in the bedroom, desperately looking for some corner where you could hide. The room was too spacious, too airy for you. It only made things worse. After searching in vain, you tried the bathroom with the same result and at last the closet. There in the back of the room, you found a narrow dark place between some drawer cabinet and the wall. You squeezed in there and sitting down on the floor pulled your knees to the chest as tightly as you could. Finally you could breathe in a small sip of the air, the pressure on your chest gradually eased. The tears began rolling down your cheeks and you sobbed until at some point you passed out from exhaustion.

"So this is where you've been hiding this whole time?"

A deep voice spoke, waking you up. In the distance you heard raindrops drumming on the windows and the air smelled of rain, smoke and apples roasted on fire. You didn't dare to look up, instead you curled up into yourself even more.

"Everyone out there is looking for you since lunch."

"I'm so sorry," you muttered into your knees.

The male sighed heavily. He seemed to be pissed off. "Can you explain me what in the bottomless depths of the Cauldron you're doing here?"

You pressed even harder against the wall, trying to get as far from him as you could. This was it. He had enough of you and there was no witness, so he could freely act upon it.

"I'm so sorry," you sobbed. You knew that no matter what you said, it wouldn't work. It never worked. Yet you couldn't stop apologising, still hoping it could ease the intended punishment.

You heard his footsteps muffled by the carpet as he approached you and got ready.

"I apologise, Y/N" he murmured and his fingers lightly touched your elbow. The smell of smoke was replaced by spicy cinnamon. "I didn't mean... I'm not angry at you. I was just worried sick, thinking that... Ah, it doesn't matter." He struggled with his words.

When you didn't move, he groaned and continued.

"Maids came to report that you are missing as soon as the meeting was over. They said that you looked pale in the morning and that you didn't sleep in the bed nor eat. They thought you went to take a nap. Just imagine how surprised they were when they came to wake you up for lunch and couldn't find you."

His fingers traveled down your forearm to your hand and gently squeezed it. Iciness of his strict deep voice melted, replaced by warmth and tenderness. "What happened? Why are you hiding here?"

You dared to peek at him. Your husband was crouching in front of you, his amber eyes watching you closely. He really didn't seem to be angry, just tired.

"I'm sorry to have caused you worry," you little bit straightened up, still avoiding his eyes.

He gently pulled on your hand. "What happened? You can talk to me. Someone hurt you? Or told you something you didn't like?"

"Are.. are you going to send me back?"

"Nope," Eris chuckled, evidently amused by your silly question. The sound was rich and kind of cute. Your heart did a strange thing. He seemed to be more relaxed than the last night at the party. "Last time I checked on this matter, your father signed that he will never even try to contact you and left with rather a rich reward."

You gaped at him in disbelieve. Your head went completely silent.

"It's true. You will either stay here or call Rhysand to come to pick you up, but you won't go back to your family."

"Thank you, my lord," you smiled genuinely, relief spreading in your chest.

"There you are. Finally smiling," he looked over his shoulder. "I think we should go out and tell everyone that you are fine. I guess they are still looking for you. What do you think?"

You flushed, feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry for causing the troubles."

"It's fine," he waved his hand and helped you to stand up. "At least they are finally doing something meaningful."

Eris left you in the sitting room between your bedrooms and went to stop the search. While he was gone, some servants with trays of steaming food marched in and set it on the table. They again prepared only one plate. Disappointed you looked at heavy double doors with carved ornaments that you hadn't noticed before. You still hoped he would come back.

After a moment the door swung open and one of the maids walked in.

"His Lordship apologizes, but he had to return to his duties," she announced.

Sad that after all he wouldn't come back, you sat down and let servants serve you the meal. Still having no appetite, you at least ate a bit of every dish of the late lunch that they presented you and when you were done they all left except of that one maid. She sat down on small stool in the corner of the room, took out something from under her apron and started embroidering. Your husband apparently made sure that you weren't left alone again.

For a while you watched her dancing hand with a needle and then you moved to a bench under the window, looking out into the drenched garden half hidden in the mist. Despite all the colours, it was quite a melancholic sight yet comforting. It perfectly matched your mood. You watched the colourful flowers and trees until they plunged into darkness.

The dinner went just like the lunch. Servants brought in food and you ate alone. Soon after you were done, other maids came in and ran a bath for you. The other one who spent the afternoon looking after you, meanwhile left. Just as the previous night, they washed you properly, massaged bath oils into your skin and hair, and helped you prepare for the bed. After they were done and cleaned the bathroom, they left.

With heavy heart you took a seat in the very same ottoman and watching the doors, waited. Your bedroom and the sitting room next door were so quiet that you heard the faint ticking of the clock and crackling fire from behind the closed thick doors. Eventually that sounds lulled you to sleep.

Later that night you jolted up, scared by a tremendous crash of thunder. Your heart leaped to your throat. Since you were child, you were scared of storms, its wild sounds echoed through the stone halls even deep under the mountain. However, it was nothing compared to this.

Another thunder rumbled through the sky. You jumped up with a small scream, pressing against the wall on the opposite side of the room, covering your ears with hands. You started pacing back and forth, your body trembled. Opening door of the closet you ran to your new-found safe place, hoping you could weather the storm there, but the sounds of thunder followed you even there.

A particularly bright bolt of lightening crossed the sky, closely followed by sound so strong that the walls shook. That was the last straw and you fled to the sitting room and to the double doors on the opposite side. You hesitated with a hand only inches from the smooth surface of the oak door. Another thunder rumbled around you and your hand met the cold surface before you could change your mind.

Surprisingly, the doors opened right away as if he waited with hand on doorknob. Your husband stood there with messy red hair that had a copper hue in the light of the fire from the hearth. Shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, he blinked down at you with sleepy eyes. If you weren't so scared, you would stop to take a proper look and blush fiercely.

However, thunder struck again and you leaped to his arms, hiding your face at his muscular chest, your hands looking for something to grip on.

"What..?" he grumbled and stepped back, eyes widely open. His big hands landed on your shoulders, trying to push you away.

The lightning bolt enlightened the room, all decorations rattled and you cried out, clinging to him with arms wrapped around his waist. His brows raised in shock.

The beats of his heart under your face grew stronger and louder than the storm and you opened your eyes sharply, suddenly realizing what you were doing. Your breasts were pressed against his stomach. There was no way he didn't feel them through the thin material of your nightgown. You didn't even want to think about it. With bowed head and gaze focused on the floor you retreated a few steps back, blushing and thanking the Mother that the lights were turned off.

"I'm so-sorry, my lord, I didn't-" your sentence ended with a scream as decorations in the room rattled again.

"You are scared. Of the storm," he stated baffled. Only then his sight fell to your chest and everything bellow it and his cheeks turned pink. He held his breath.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, my lord," you said much calmer than you really felt, still looking at his bare feet.

"No, it's fine." He cleared his throat looking somewhere above your head.

With another too loud thunder you ducked with hands on your ears. Eris stepped closer, arms stretched to you, but then he changed his mind and let them fall back to his sides.

"Ehm.. What should we do?" he muttered under his nose.

"Do-do you want to come in?" he offered gesturing to his room.

"I-I think I could."

He stepped aside, making space for you. Without touching him again you slipped in. His room was just like yours, everything, including even the colours of sheets, was the same. The only difference was that instead of the vanity there was a desk in the corner. Left side of the bed was a mess, the rest was untouched. No personal stuff, favourite paintings, nothing.

Eris watched you with interest as your eyes wandered around his bedroom. Seeing you scantily clad in his private room where he didn't even allow the servants to come clean, was doing something with him. He shook head, exhaling heavily through nose.

"Sit down," he waved to the ottomans. Meanwhile he touched a teapot on the coffee table. It took only a minute and small puffs of steam began to rise from it. He filled one mug and handed it to you. Then he sat in the other one with own cup of tea in hand.

You looked at the windows, wondering whether the storm was already over, because it had been quiet for quite some time. How surprised you were to see the lightening flashing behind the curtains.

"It's just magic. I'm quite light sleeper and don't want to be disturbed," he explained with a small smile.

You lowered your eyes guilty and squeezed the mug. "I'm so sorry for disturbing you, my-"

"Eris," he interrupted you with narrowed eyes and tilted head to the side. One of his brows raised up. "You keep calling me 'my lord'. But we are married couple now and I'm not your...owner." He grimaced at the word. "Call me just Eris. And as I said before, it's fine."

You nodded and sipped the warm tea. You both fell silent unsure of what to say.

The realisation that it's night and you were alone with your husband in the room with bed, hit you suddenly and your heartbeat speeded up. You fought with your feelings and the urgent need to take a look at him, a proper look, until you couldn't resist it anymore. You wanted to get to know him better. Out of all the males you'd ever met, he was the least scary one and the fact that despite everything, he hadn't tried to hurt yet, encouraged you.

You started with his hands. Shyly you looked up at his long, elegant fingers embracing the cup. You quite liked them, their shape and how they felt on your skin. You didn't even need to focus to recall the feeling when they were entwined with yours. Your gaze of its own accord moved up the strong cords of muscles to nicely sculpted biceps.

The bedroom was rather dark, only one small light was on on the bedside table. Yet it provided enough light for you to involuntarily notice small freckles on his shoulders. There were dozens of them and you caught yourself thinking that you would like to try to count them. Your cheeks heated once again, but it didn't stop you.

Next your gaze shifted to the largest display of thoroughly shaped flesh and tight skin, to his chest. You knew nothing about these things, yet you had to admit that it was very nice chest. Even just simply looking from the distance, did funny things with your body and you felt tingling in your lower belly. If you remembered it correctly, his skin felt smooth and hot under your face, his flesh soft and firm at the same time. Dusted with a few lovely freckles, it rose and fell with quite rapid breaths.

Eris wasn't bulky, rather lean, but still so strong. A warrior.

You wanted to continue down to his stomach where you noticed a lot of interesting looking shadows you'd like to study closely, but it felt inappropriate. Not that what you were doing right now wasn't, but you couldn't stop yourself. You were always scared to properly look at people, to see them and the details of their faces. With your husband it was different, as if something was calling you, inviting you to take a look.

Wanting to see his handsome face again, to explore it and commit it to your memory, your eyes traveled up over the column of his neck to his chin. His Adam apple bobbed as he swallowed, arteries pulsed in wild rhythm that matched yours.

He was perfectly shaved, there didn't seem to be a single hair left out on his face. His lips in a nice shade of pink were full, the lower lip fuller than the upper one, and slightly parted. You knew that they not only seemed to be but really were soft. You still could feel their touch on yours and to be honest, you'd like to taste them again. Did they still taste of honey and alcohol or could you taste herbs now? You'd really like to get the answer. His lips quirked into a boyish grin and stayed like that.

Your gaze skimmed over freckles on his high cheeks and straight nose. Damn, you wanted to count them so badly now. Would you ever get a chance to try it? At least once and you'd never ask for more.

Lost in that beauty and your imagination, your gaze wandered to his eyes partly hidden under slightly furrowed arches of brows, and their colour immediately caught your attention. They seemed to shine in the dimly lit room, flames dancing in them. His gaze bore into you with such intensity that you felt wetness gathering between your legs. You turned into a panting mess, suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot in your own skin.

"What are you doing?" His deep, hoarse voice snapped you from trans and you blinked.

While you were admiring him, the air in the room grew thicker, strong scents middling together.

"I-.." You didn't know what to say, mouth completely dry, too ashamed of your shameless behaviour. You shouldn't behave like this, it didn't suit a lady.

His grin widened. "Do you like what you see?" your husband teased you.

"I-.." you shifted uncomfortably, your eyes moved to his lips, then to his chest and back up to those marvellous eyes.

"You what, Y/N? You can be honest with me."

You inhaled sharply, your face flushed with even more shame. "Yes, I like it, m-"

"Tsk tsk tsk. I think I told you to call me by my name."

"I like it, Eris," you murmured.

His eyes closed briefly and he exhaled deeply, making a strange noise. It sounded like a growl.

"Say it again. My name," he specified when you gave him questioning look.

You hesitated for a moment. There was something about him that made your pulse skyrocket. He was dangerous predator, able to kill with a single thought, but strangely, you wouldn't mind to be his prey. You didn't know him at all, yet you felt a connection between the two of you. And you longed to explore it more, to see what he was capable of.

"Eris," you whispered into silence between you.

Frowning with closed eyes he made the same noise. One second he was sitting in ottoman with mug in hand, the next one both mugs were left on the table and he was kneeling next to you. Even on his knees he was so tall that his eyes were level with yours. Those long fingers that fascinated you moments ago, found yours, entwining with them while his fiery eyes burned your body and soul in the most pleasant way. Room felt so hot suddenly that you had the urge to open the windows, get rid of any clothing you had on you and expose your bare skin to a cooling rain.

"Y/N," he groaned, his gaze slowly fell to your lips.

You were so attracted to him that it had to be result of some kind of spell. Not having enough strength to resist it anymore, you gave in. Still longing to taste his full lips you leaned in slightly. His eyes returned to yours, searching. Whatever he saw, it seemed to work. His softness brushed over your lips, tenderly pulling them into a kiss.

His lips were just like you remembered them, soft and sturdy at the same time, tasting like honey and tea he drank. You wondered where that sweet taste came from because there was no jar of honey in this room nor the tea was sweet. Deciding it had to be taste of him, you moaned.

Your lips parted briefly, but he was fast. His tongue slipped in with ease, hungrily exploring your mouth. You gasped at the new sensation. Everything was new to you. You were taught some theoretical basics, but never practised them.

His body pushed against yours until you were almost lying, hands on the back of your head and your waist navigating you. Thin material of you nightgown presented no barrier between your bodies. You felt him everywhere, but it wasn't enough. You needed more.

You reached for him, needing to feel his hot skin. As soon as the tips of your fingers lightly brushed over his shoulder, he abruptly pushed away, breaking the kiss.

He backed to the center of the room, hands running through thick red strands. All the warmth left together with him and you were left trembling, confused and lonely without his closeness.

Both of you were heaving heavily. He averted his fiery eyes, hand reaching for a handle. As if instantly remembering something, his hand dropped to his side.

"We should go to sleep. It's late. I have a lot of work to do, so I have to get up early."

Shirt appeared in his hands and he quickly put it on. "You can sleep here tonight."

Without looking at you again he climbed to the bed, waiting for you. You were desperately needing time to compose yourself, to understand what just happened, why your body betrayed you and reacted the way it did, but you couldn't keep him waiting. You slipped under the covers on the other side, lying on your back stiffly like a board.

Eris turned off the light, mirroring you. You were sure you wouldn't be able to even close your eyes with him so close. You were just laying there, nervously gazing at ceiling.

In the darkness his hand found yours, gently squeezing it. Within seconds pleasant warmth spread into your body and your eyelids grew heavy. Just before you slipped into a realm of dreams, Eris turned to his side, facing you and whispered lowly.

"Good night, love."

[thehighladywrites]

— “Let’s try something new.”

pairing: professor eris x reader, feyre makes an appearance

summary: Eris surprises you with a little surprise before your exam. After a fun session you insist on going home, so your friends won’t see you. But what happens when he’s nowhere near?

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smutty scenes, fem reader, professor x student relationship, both are obviously of age,semi public sex, remote controlled vibrator, eris both slightly degrading and praising (love that),kidnapping oop👀

amara’s note: this is kind of a wild one, we also get new info of eris’s background👀 this is especially dedicated for all the eris haters and antis💗 if u find any typos, your eyes are deceiving you. Also yes I know reader getting kidnapped is SO 2014 wattpad y/n with her orbs getting sold to a mafia boss coded but it’s for the plottttt🫡🫡

part 1 part 2 part 2,5 part 3

The sound of the loud fan and random coughs echoed through the silent lecture hall, the only sounds where the clicking of mechanical pens and the rustle of turning paper.

The literature exam wasn’t really something you were worrying about since you were dating eris so you just sat there looking pretty, thinking of ways to have fun with him later on. Life really was more beautiful when you didn’t have to worry about stuff like exams and hard work.

Eris always taught you the night after anyways. And it was much more fun being in his bed as he’s teaching you things, giving you rewards if you answer correctly and punishments if you answered incorrectly.

Your thighs clenched at the idea and you subtly bit your thumb at the thought of tonight.

You felt a zap in your lower stomach, clenching your legs even harder as you remembered that you had a vibrator in you. That’s right, you nearly forgot about the way Eris had slutted you out on his desk before asking if you wanted to try something new today.

He had pulled out an oval shaped, bright pink little vibrator. It was shapes like a U so that it was nestled deep against your g-spot while stimulating the clit at the same time.

At first you were a bit embarrassed at the way he just casually put it in your palm for you to examine. His eyes had darken at the way your cheeks had heated. The goosepumps, indicating your excitement, almost made him pounce on you again.

“It’s not very big. You sure this will feel nice?”

He smiles, gently pushing your hair behind your ear before planting a soft kiss on your plush lips.

“I assure you, you will feel pleasure.”

You decided to be petty, stirring the pot a little.

“Interesting. And how exactly do you know that this feels nice? Have you tested it on other girls?”

His lips twitch in a smirk.

“I’ve tested it on myself.”

Your eyes widen at his casual answer. Eris in bed playing with himself sounded like grade A masturbation material, holy fuck.

His smirk only widened at your shocked face.

“Why deprive myself of such pleasure?”

You nodded, your mind feeling a bit fuzzy.

“Uh-huh. You really shouldn't. And neither should I. So, please put it in me.”

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

You obey, lolling out your tounge as he puts the toy in your mouth for you to wet.

You hop of his desk and turn around, bending over as you push your skirt up. His hand massages your ass before slapping it, enjoying the way you yelp.

Eris glances down at his F.P. Journe, clicking his tongue at the amount of time remaining before his hall fills with bothersome students.

He can’t wait for the day you graduate and he can finally leave this fucking place. There’s really nothing keeping him here anymore except you. He finally found a legal business he can use as a front so there was really no need to keep playing professor.

It really fucking irked him that teaching a bunch of hormornal idiots was the job his father had decided to use as a front for the business. But money had to come legally from somewhere right?

Convincing people that the mansion was an ancient family estate passed down through generations proved ridiculously easy. Despite the entire place being new, the idiots didn't bother checking the details.

You wiggle a bit, trying to get him out of his thoughts before the doors infront of you opened. Eris quickly put the toy in with a grin, not surprised by how easy it slid in considering how many times he had you finishing on his tounge.

You rise and shift your weight between your feet, ensuring everything feels just right.

“Oh, i just feel light pressure. Will people hear it?”

“No, not at all. Do you want to try it out before you sit down?”

You nod then almost fall to your knees at the strong vibrations. Letting out a sharp gasp you grab onto his shirt, curling your fist in his shirt.

“How do you feel, my love?”

You take a step closer, resting your head on his steady, beating heart.

“Good. I feel really fucking good.”

Once again, he slaps your ass and this time it feels so much better.

“Mind your language.”

Grabbing his shoulders, you jerk him down and kiss him hard, licking and biting his lips before grabbing your bag and using the side entrance to leave the hall, only to come in with the other students through the big doors.

—

Class started 5 minutes late because Eris needed his hard on to calm down. He was for sure getting you back for it. So when he opened the doors, he told everyone you had assigned seats because of the exams when in reality, he wanted you to have the last row to yourself. There was no one sitting in the back except for you so there was plenty of room for some fun.

The test, a multi-page character analysis and study on one of the course books, was handed to you by Eris along with a few extra pens to occupy yourself. But you still tried your best. He was still your professor and you really wanted to show him that you belonged in his class, you wanted to make him proud of you.

All that flew out of your mind when he started the toy, making your whole body tense before relaxing.

Eris started explaining everything to the class and asked if anyone had any questions before starting.

Then the bastard looked dead into your eyes and asked while he upped the speed,

“Any questions in the back?”

You clenched your legs together and gripped your pen so hard it started to crack,

“No professor.”

He nodded, a ghost of a smile on his and told everyone to start.

Seated, you struggled to answer the questions, constantly distracted by him and the pesky remote tucked in his slacks. Squirming in your seat, your face warmed, attempting to swallow with a dry throat.

It felt so good, having every part of you stimulated. Your entire body was always on edge, goosebumps and heat flaring your body. The onlu thing you hated was that during these two hours of pure ecstasy, he didn’t let you cum once. You were only brought to the knife sharp edge and had pleasure taken away. You considered just fixing it yourself had it not been for your nerves and the other students there.

Finally the exam ended and everyone left to discuss their answers at the cafeteria but you stayed put in your chair, convinced that if you moved, there would be a big stain. When the last student left and Eris locked the doors, you stood up, grabbed your things and tried to leave the room. If he didn’t allow you to cum then you wouldn’t allow him to touch you.

Seated in his chair, he observed your every move until you reached the door. Just as you were about to leave, he pressed the highest setting, causing your knees to wobble.

“Tell me, dear. Why are you so angry at me?”

He approached, crouching beside you, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Okay, maybe he could touch you.

“I’m- wait, it’s too much, Er, please.”

Eris looked at you with mock sympathy and simply went on.

“Did you want to cum? Is that it, hm? My beautiful girl is angry because I didn’t let her cum in a classroom full of others? Are you truly that needy?”

His words mixed with the intensity of the vibrations had you seeing white. You came with a cry, head thrown back and hands grabbing his forearms in a steel grip.

“May I have some more?” you asked with a smile. In response, he mirrored your smile and gladly fulfilled your request.

—

After spending time with Eris in his office, he offered to drive you home, but you opted to walk to avoid being seen by friends at a nearby party.

You should have just let him fucking drive you home

The crisp autumn evening turned unexpectedly traumatic as you strolled home with your AirPods in. An eerie sensation of being followed grew, fueled by a black sedan trailing a few feet away. Heightened paranoia set in, prompting you to quicken your pace.

The car halted, and a tall, red-headed man emerged, his footsteps thudded against the dark sidewalk behind you. As he approached, tension heightened until an unsettling silence fell. Your fight-or-flight instincts peaked, and you turned to confront him, only to find no one there.

Annoyed and frightened, you turned around, only to encounter a wall of muscles but before you could scream, everything went black.

—

Feyre’s pov:

“The number you have dialed is not available right now-”

She tosses her phone onto the couch, wondering where you are. The plan was to get ready together before heading to the party she insisted on attending. She was informed if TA Rhysand's presence, and she couldn't resist checking it out.

She was starting to wonder where you were. You mentioned being ‘busy’with Eris after class, but this was dragging on. Maybe you just decided to bail, but it's odd since you're usually stuck to your phone, and she didn't get a text or anything.

Feyre got a bad feeling in her stomach and decided to pay Eris a visit. She knew it wasn't really appropriate to show up at his place, but that gut feeling wouldn't let go.

And if you were at his house, she’d simply murder you for ignoring her.

You had given her Eris' address a few weeks back, just in case she needed to get in touch with you urgently. Now, she really hoped this wasn't turning into an emergency.

She rolled up to Eris's place, this big gate in the way. Hit the intercom button, started talking.

“Hi professor, it’s me, Feyre Archeron in your AP lit class. Listen, I know this might be inappropriate or whatever but is Y/N in there? I just really need to know since she’s not answering her phone and I haven’t seen her since the exam. If she’s there it’s fine and I understand and I will get outta here but-”

Eris buzzes her in and bolts out to the courtyard before Feyre can even ask about his fancy estate.

Feyre's eyebrows furrow as only Eris appears.

“ Wait, where is she?” she questions.

Eris looks at her with panic, revealing that you left nearly an hour ago.

“Well, if she isn't here, then where the hell is she? Do you think something happened?” Feyre demands.

Eris's eyes harden, jaw clenching.

“Trust me, I'll find out,” he grits out before instructing Feyre to come inside.

🏷️ taglist: @danikamariewrites @daycourtofficial @teenageeggscissorslawyer @jeannineee @natashachelsea @candyjaypoppins @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @acourtofbatboydreams @nocasdatsgay @cyrygher @amara-moonlight @fell-in-luvs @hanitastic @culiehua @daughterofthemoons-stuff @itsphoenix0724 @vanserrasswife @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @hieragalbatorixdottir @rromani-witch @vellichor01 @mischiefmanagers @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @icey--stars @alysena2 @loneliestluvr @meshellexplosionmurder @whatthefuckshappeningrn @thelov3lybookworm @eminvelaris @v3lv3tf0x

[ladydelena]

Eris N-SFW Alphabet

Right, so, let's just say this is after he takes the throne, K? Byeeeee. 

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Eris truly shines in the aftercare department. You wouldn’t expect it because this male, though he loves you deeply and cares for you with the fiery depths of his soul, is just not the most openly affectionate.

He is the epitome of a cunning, courtly male in public. In front of others, he is gentle with his gestures. A guiding hand on your waist, a kiss on the back of the hand, he upkeeps his image well, but he doesn't dote on you how you sometimes wish he would. 

But oh, does he make up for it in private.

In the solitude the two of you share, he is unrushed in how much he dotes on you. Shared baths after heated nights where he washes your skin, your sleepy eyes struggling to stay awake as he dries your hair with his fire-warmed hands and places kisses on your neck and shoulders… 

When he is in the safety of your chambers and is free from the prying, snake-like eyes of his court, he's not acting anymore. He truly loves the care he can show you; it’s a routine he doesn't budge from.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Eris is not shy about knowing the power of his appearance and he knows he was crafted and honed for the high courts. His lanky, toned figure not only lends itself to him having an elegant, powerful aura, but he also knows the pull he has with females and males alike. 

But his favorite feature to use, especially on you? Well, that would be his elegant face of course. 

He knows the planes of his striking face have you mesmerized. It’s his fierce, cruel, cunning, and heated eyes that send your heart into a hammering rhythm at times. The elegant pointed nose that doesn't miss a single shift in your scent; you couldn't hide anything from him if you tried. The expressive, arrogant mouth that spits words like venom at times, but leaves whispered declarations of love on your skin and trails of soft kisses  down your.. ahem, let’s move on.

Eris could not pick a favorite part of you if he tried, it shifts from day to day, but two things are for certain. 

First, the cunning mischief that always sets your eyes and smile alight awakens parts of his soul that has the rest of him burning bright, and second? The hidden away parts that you wouldn't think drove him mad? They do. The warm skin at the nape of your neck often covered by your hair, the insides of your ankle that he needs to press a kiss to as you bare yourself to him vulnerably, he burns for you at the slightest naughty thought of them.

You’ll often find that though he maintains composure in court, he will sometimes nuzzle the insides of your wrists with his nose or lips as a calming measure when he needs the reassurance only the scent and warmth of you can offer.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Once he's close, there's no turning back. When you’re in the moment, Eris takes ownership of you in a way that makes your thoughts fade and your body craves his dominant possessiveness. 

He sees to it that you have all of Autumn in the palm of your hand. He encourages your thoughts and opinions, supports your growth and leadership as his equal, but in the bedroom? You. Are. His. 

Eris owns your pleasure, and you like it.  

Also, that damn arrogant smirk he wears when you take the lead in the bedroom? THe one you try to wipe from his face with your enthusiastic, ahem, ministrations? It just turns predatory as you draw him closer to the edge. Once you push him past his restraints, he’s taking over. (He likes finishing down your throat. You get off on the possessive hand on the back of your head guiding you.)

You expect nothing else from the Autumn court male that has fire in his blood and fucks like it too. You like being his personal cum dumpster, and oh boy are you in for the time of your life.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s terrified of hurting you. Or worse, being hurt by you. As arrogant and in charge as he may be at times, when it comes to you, being intimate is especially new and scary territory. He may be a professional at indulgent, carnal pleasure, but being vulnerable and opening himself up to the possibility of being betrayed? He’s working through it, and at least his heart knows that you will be there for him always.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Eris is very experienced in the way you would almost expect any courtly male of his status to be. He knows when he’s being fawned over, and he’s had a lifetime of being very indulgent in his casual pleasure. It’s almost at odds with his fine dressings and the princely air about him. He’s shamelessly suave with his words and he’s definitely unabashedly fae. He has never shied away from the animalistic, carnal quality that fae possess, but through the centuries, the one thing he has not indulged in is intimacy. 

In true intimate relations, he is not experienced- by choice. That, he saves for you. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This damn male, he likes you bound and submissive as he controls your pleasure, He likes you flushed with a bit of embarrassment at the way your body is presented to him, at the intimate parts you choose to bare to him. He doesn't have a favorite position, but craves anything that allows him to have you breathless and on the edge of insanity. Anything that drives your lust filled passions as you both need more and more of each other, creating a wildfire that feels like it would set the world ablaze at times, with no end to your bodies needs certain nights. 

Honorable mention? Ugh, the voyeur. He likes taking you roughly as you both stand facing your dressing mirror- hand twined in your hair, the other at your throat or digging into your hip…

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

For the most part, the sight of you, the scent, the promise of indulging in you, it sets an inferno of need roaring inside him. Eris is intense. He blends sensual reassurance with straight up roughly breeding you. 

But in a most unexpected turn of events, Eris can in fact be goofy at times.

He’s indulgent with his pleasure, and likes to taunt and tease. He likes when you're coy and he falls deeply for the spells you weave with your seductiveness, he likes the game of it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Immaculate. There is not a stray hair out of place, this male has honed his beauty to be its own weapon, and his hair is just an extension of that. I reiterate that Eris does not shy away from his fae nature, and this is evident in the fluidity of his looks. His hair whether it's in its occasionally shorter shorn state, or grown out long, unbound and flowing, is always elegant and playing courtly games as much as he himself is. He often has it tied at the nape of his neck, or down with intricate braids and hair jewels adorning it.

Now, does the carpet match the drapes? Yes, yes indeed. He’s elegantly trimmed, short and neat down there. Eris himself is not a hairy male, but he does have a faint, teasing happy trail that you love using as a guide for kisses before…

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s surprisingly intimate with you now that you’ve both blossomed in your relationship. At first, Eris would lead with his sensual, pleasure driven demeanor, but over time he’s let some of his walls down. Now, you two share moments that have your hearts beating as one. He takes his time- is curious about you in the way your body answers to his, and about the way your soul sings at his open vulnerability as well.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

If he’s in need and you're not around, he's not ashamed to take the edge off to be able to focus and go about his day, but often he will refrain and let anticipation build for the time he will get to share with you.

(Sometimes if he's in a wicked, snarky mood, he’s not shy with taunting you about what you missed out on, and the thought of his large, elegant hands, roughly stroking himself… goosebumps.)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

The bastard. He is a bit of an exhibitionist and enjoys the thought of corrupting you (Loving and praising you as well! Don't forget the balance!) He likes sitting back lazily, almost arrogantly as you squirm in his lap. He likes whispering dirty sly things in your ear while being the picture perfect courtly gentlemale and seeing you flush.

He's had a hard life, no doubt, but he also owns the fact that he’s spoiled with entitlement. And when it comes to the bedroom? He likes the entitlement, the ownership he has over your pleasure.  

His beast form. Contrary to popular belief, he does not take the nine-tailed lupine fox form of his predecessor, but instead takes the form of a red, wingless firedrake, complete with golden slitted eyes, pronged snakelike tongue, and swishing, scaled, powerful tail. He has a wicked streak when it comes to your pleasure and is known to shift partially, that tongue wringing your pleasure, talons digging into your hips, tail being plopped… waiting for you to um, well he enjoys when you have fun with his thighs in the same manor as well, so- balance.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

At night when the castle seems asleep and you try to pry him from his work he’ll sigh gently, lovingly. He often makes to winnow you to your chambers, but every so often, he finds that the draw of his other favorite place calls to him, and you find that after winnowing, his fine ass ends up planted firmly on the autumn throne and after whispered taunts and teases, he’ll have you riding him shamelessly with need.

Eris is borne of the forest. And under the dappled light of the autumn trees, amongst the leaves, he looks truly fae. During picnics, and early morning walks, it is sometimes the only reprieve you two find from your busy days, and he enjoys sharing himself with you in these moments too.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He gets riled fiercely quick when you sass him and show some teeth. He likes the taunt, he likes seeing your clever nature. He likes when you let go of your inhibitions and let your fae nature show. Frolicking in the chilled air and seducing him through the leaved-paths of the forest, his desire burns red hot. 

His heart skips a beat (thought you'd never notice outwardly) when he sees how fiercely you care for the people of his court. Your love and passion fuel his fire. And that warmth in your eyes an heart that he’s been void of for so much of his life? He burns for you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Using you when he’s angry. Taunts and teases? Sure. Making you blush with doting and degradation alike? When the mood suits it, yes. But taking out his anger? No.

Eris can be quick to lash out at others with a snake's tongue when angered or slighted. His words are a weapon and they cut deep. But he refuses to repeat the sins of his father against the woman he loves. You’ll often find that he distances himself from you both physically and emotionally until the fire in his veins cools if he’s had a difficult day. After being together for a while and understanding the way he acts and thinks, you now know to allow him the space to come to you, and the distance is not a reflection on his feelings for you. He’s getting better at it too, letting you in and sharing his struggles.  

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Don’t get me wrong, Eris, the snake, he knows how to use his tongue, and he's good (cauldron he’s good) at it too. But with you? You do things that have his eyes rolling back in his head. The sight of you kneeling and your pretty eyes locked on him? He would beg. He would bargain with the cauldron itself to have you seduce him with that pretty, bratty mouth of yours.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He runs the edge between rough and sensual all the time and it drives you absolutely mad. I will shout this from the top of a roof but ERIS.IS.NOT.AFRAID.OF.BEING.FAE.

He likes pleasure and sinfully shared nights. He likes using his quick mind and trained words to make your breath hitch. He takes great pleasure in the physical form and the fire that runs in his veins? He’s passionate in the ways he pushes your body towards release, often without rest and with a seductive rough edge that blurs the lines of what's too much and what’s mind-numbing bliss.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hiking up your skirt and pushing him down to the forest floor, feeling the darkness of the wine cellars surround you as you’re winnowed in to be lewdly, lustfully taken, quickies are a risky but constant staple in your courtship. It’s the Vanserra allure that has you coming back again and again for more.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Eris. Vanserra. He risks it all. He plays games, and you? You're his favorite thing to play with. 

He’s not shy about toying with you, taunting you, seeing who’ll succumb to a bluff first, and you? You match him. Almost being caught by sentries and courtiers alike, locations where someone could easily walk in and see the way he makes you lose yourself in him, being absolutely ravished out in the open forest air- he plays with risk to amplify the pleasure both of you experience.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

These autumn males know no bounds with their exploits and Eris is no exception. Eris lasts well beyond you finding pleasure once, twice, even thrice. And when you've both experienced a brief release from your need? He’s ready again, and you? Oh, you need him too. 

You find nights are not often for sleeping, and mornings first light often marks when you feel exhausted and sated, and should probably clean off, eat, and pass out for a few hours before duties steal the day from both of you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Surprisingly… yes. 

Eris has access to the best, and most hedonistic crafters in the land, and without monetary restraint and a lustful mind, he has furniture and toys that truly define pleasure. That being said, he doesn't use them that often and prefers to indulge in your natural bodies and magic. Both of you have powers that when crafted and honed, become ‘toys’ of their own. Teasing fiery trails, warmth that fades leaving goosebumps in its wake, ropes of fire binding you, gags and blindfolds of fire that have you on edge with their risk, oh, the two of you just know how to play with each other.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is unfair in how he teases and riles you throughout the day with his words and touches; his looks and the promise in his eyes, he makes sure to see it through at night though. But if you’re playing the game during the day? If you get him achingly fervent with want and need? He's a cold hearted bastard. He’ll have you whimpering and begging, have you agreeing with whatever nasty slutty things come out of his mouth for even a hint of release. He knows how to be unfair. And he will edge you within an inch of your sanity, but then his lust takes over and well, the bags under your eyes the next day? They were well deserved with the sleepless pleasure that caused them.  

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His voice is sinful. Deep and smooth. You hear it in your dreams sometimes, comforting, wrapping around your very soul. And he knows how to use it in the moment too. He doesn’t stumble when he uses that cold, sensual voice to speak filthy things into your ear, doesn't hesitate to place you into a submissive mindset with his calming whispers and reassuring directions; he. Is. everything. In these moments.

When you have him baring his soul beneath you? When you hold the chance of his pleasure in your hands? He whimpers. Soft, breathy sighs and moans. He knows giving you this power over him makes him vulnerable, and you’ve made sure to reward him for it too. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Eris is actually quite… quiet, and an introvert when given the time and space to relax and unwind. 

Yes, he plays an ambivert, he can do what he needs to for the world to see, but the time spent with you is often the only time he has to unwind and take the mask off so to speak, and you? You’re the same. You both find pleasure in enjoying each other's quiet company. Being curled up together and just silently reading different books, doing different activities while just existing in the same space together, it’s a way you both recharge, and this brings his soul pleasure in ways he didn’t think he would have.

Sometimes when you're just laying in each other's arms recounting the day, you might be filthy gossips about what happened in court, even going so far as to reenact funny moments and make codenames for the people you deal with daily. He loves this, being able to laugh freely with you. And you love his laugh, his barking, loud, unexpected laugh that the world never hears.

(He likes roleplay and you like indulging in his naughty, naughty mind. It's great.)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His very existence is naughty. 

Eris is tall, lean, lanky in the way that he’s blessed with a strong, masculine frame, and well muscled without being bulky. Every part of him is seductively taunting. From his large elegant hands (that you always want wrapped around your throat) to the surprisingly hard thighs that you often find yourself placed upon… or in between…

If we're discussing endowment here, it’s not just an entire court that he's blessed with. Eris may be lean and lanky, but his most pleasurable asset? He's surprisingly… measurable in length. And well rounded enough… to have you thinking, yes. Yes yes yes, his sometimes red flags look green from this position. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderate. Eris can refrain from thoughts of you when he needs to focus and attend to the court, but he gets riled at the slightest provocation. Also, he’s a bit of a cunt, but in the way that makes you want to wipe that smirk off his face and taunt him often. He can keep it together and plays the long game. Often times you find that you did not, in fact, wipe the smirk off his face, but instead it carries a edge to it, a predatory promise… Be ready. Be so ready. You often start these games with him, but Eris will be sure to see it to completion…

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn't fall asleep that easily. You tend to drift off fairly quickly after sharing in each other, but Eris will stay awake, stroking your skin, thinking through the day and his next moves as high lord, or he might even read for a bit. Once he’s settled in for the night though, he rests well and sleeps with you curled against his side with an arm wrapped around your figure, and lips pressed to your hair. 

He doesn't trust many, and relies on fewer still, but you are his souls reprieve. You’re his pillar of strength- his constant someone he can trust through thick and thin. His soul and heart has blossomed in ways he never thought possible because of it, and a part of him that was always bound and stunted now sleeps peacefully too.