#autumn court

[purple-writer8]

But Daddy I Love Him - ACOTAR

Rhysand x Autumn Court Reader (Beron’s Daughter)

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

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

2.5k words

Masterlist :)

You were Beron's Achilles heel. 

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

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

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

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

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

Rhysand.  

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

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

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

He would never let you set foot there. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- 

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

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

"He melts minds," said Fenix. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

Author’s note:

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

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs

[lorcandidlucienwill]

I can’t believe SJM threw the Vanserras at us and we’re still stuck in wannabe London.

[loneliestluvr]

𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔

part 1. part 2.

pairing: eris vanserra x archeron oc

synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

warning: depression, worthlessness, cauldron trauma, angst, that’s kinda it for now tbh.

word count: 1.9k

taryn thinks: ive been thinking about eris vanserra for a long time and reading lost bonds by @readychilledwine about tamlin kind of gave me some inspo and motivation i haven’t had in a while to write this. also ttpd because ive been down in the dumps and feeling angsty so… enjoy!! 🫶🏼 i apologize if it’s a bit scrambled lol, i just wanted to write it out.

The fabric Nuala and Cerridwen had dressed her in erased any and all traces of the truth. The destitute it had felt her life became since this newfound immortality ripped everything Blair Archeron had ever known away from her, tucked away. Hidden behind the gauzy chiffon.

There had been small pockets of awareness, of feeling like she had control over herself lately. Where she didn’t rot away in bed, or a chaise— alone and wrapped in the quiet of her mind. Staring into open space, ghosting through whatever this life was.

Those times were hard to come by, and even when the war against Hybern was raging it was decided Blair would stay safe in Velaris. Where she had always remained. Where she did not leave, until today.

It was a pointed argument among their small circle that this life was no better than what Feyre had been through with Tamlin, but Blair did not fight it. Simply… existed inside of it.

It wasn’t that nobody tried to help, they did. They asked questions, gave the second eldest sister every chance to open up. To get out, to experience this new world. To talk.

Elain would argue even when she did, it was mere hollows of the person Blair had been who responded. The echoes that remembered how to speak, that walked so smoothly and carelessly that she seemed to float on a hot wind.

Blair was not fearless, she was not cunning, she was not soft, nor was she anything that her sisters were. She was simply… other.

And maybe that was the furthest thing from simple, that there were no words to describe the ethereal beauty of her hollowness. Maybe there never would be.

Blair didn’t seem to mind, and she got away with it.

Content was the feeling that seemed the most appropriate to describe the life she lead now. Moved into her youngest sisters River Home, with a large room at the end of the house overlooking the winding waters. The gardens Elain had crafted and tended when she wasn’t at the townhouse sat below, the large expanse of the land out to the river in full view. The snow capped mountains that danced across the skyline, one’s she sometimes watched Feyre paint in front of from her window day after day, month after month.

She supposed she had it coming when Nesta was forced to the House of Wind. When her older sister by a mere year had pointed out that Blair had amounted to nothing in the time Nesta had been taken hostage inside that House on the side of the mountain. When Nesta had been expected to work and be something, Blair had still remained as useless as before.

“She is adjusting,” Feyre had argued on Blair’s behalf. Blair had been the kindest of their sisters to Feyre when they were in that cabin, poor and broken and nothing. Who had helped with no qualms, who had genuinely cared for them all— even their seemingly worthless father. “—she did not ask for this, the same as you. At least she is not drinking herself to death.” The smartest of them, as Feyre had described to Rhys’ Inner Circle before those meetings in the mortal realm, others would have thought the same if they knew her before.

Before she became this… thing.

“You let her wither away, sitting about in her sadness and grief and her muteness. I would think she had forgotten how to speak if it weren’t for the utterly mundane responses she gives.” Nesta had barked back at their little sister while Blair sat by the window, unmoving. Her face a mask of cool indifference like she wasn’t quite hearing anyway. “How is what she’s doing any different than what I have? Because she isn’t spending your money? Because she hasn’t tainted Rhysand’s precious Court image?”

She didn’t care how they spoke of her, didn’t care to defend herself from Nesta’s forked tongue— it took more energy than she had to argue. Blair could have washed away right into the water that rushed through the river she stared into for all she cared.

Everything had just gone so… wrong from that point. As if Nesta’s breaking point was seeing her first baby sister be so broken and discarded, she had ripped into a secret nobody had even bothered to tell Feyre or Blair— that Feyre’s babe would kill her.

The rest had been a blur like usual after and here they were, dressed and gowned in the finest clothes they had. In the short time since finding out about Feyre’s deadly predicament, everyone seemingly had agreed with Nesta about Blair’s lack of presence in their court… or any at all.

The only people who knew she existed were those that were present when she was forced into the bitterly cold water of the cauldron. When it had felt as though she drowned, that she had died there and something else had filled her body. Felt as though she could only see herself from outside of her body, outside of whatever she had became.

Blair Archeron would be making her debut to the Court of Nightmares in the same fashion Feyre would be revealing her pregnancy. She didn’t know much else, didn’t care for the details or even why Nesta had been training in dances they both knew since childhood. Just what she was to wear and to come when called.

To admit the dress she was now wearing wasn’t utterly beautiful would be a disgrace in itself, and she looked stunning.

Despite her pointed ears being viewable, Blair’s long and heavy gold-brown hair had been curled gorgeously, cascading down her freckled and fair bare back to cover where her dress did not. Kissing and tickling the skin when she moved her head, half of her hair pulled back from her face into loose twirls and braids.

Her face painted in light cosmetics that she didn’t need. It was no secret that her beauty came first out of the four sisters, even before dear Elain’s— skin freckled, dark lashes and brows, cheeks usually tinted pink naturally. But her eyes, her eyes were the rarest of her sisters and what made her so profoundly different.

A base of that gray-blue that grew more vibrant as it met her pupil. But the flecks of nearly golden amber splattered like an artist had flicked their wrist in a rush is what made them so different.

Why the black of her dress fit her so much better than it did poor Elain, her second youngest sister nearly washed out by the bleak darkness she had been presented to wear.

The dress clinging to Blair’s torso was bedecked in gold sparkling beads that formed lines of detail along the bodice and the hem by her feet, the fabric black beneath it. Hugging tight to her figure. Eating and drinking had gotten easier after the war and had allowed her to fill out again.

Her full breasts wrapped tight to her chest where they sat prettily, the dips in her hips and waist outlined by the sheer sleeves that flared well past her hands, capped around her shoulders but left her back utterly bare despite the illusion of the chiffon looking like a cape.

The dress hung from her body as she waited almost carelessly to enter the throne room of Hewn City, and Blair felt a little like she might die.

The air here, anywhere, was so much colder than the sweltering heat of her bedroom where she kept the fire roiling day and night— where she felt like she was at home even if it was just in her head. Sleeping on the floor in front of it most nights, where the crackling of the fire could drown out the sound of her thoughts. Where the warmth could make her feel something other than empty.

Now. Feyre’s voice rang warmly in Blair’s head, echoing outside of the thick walls of forest she’d been taught to put up. Spruce and oak, winding paths lined with red poppy’s and orange geraniums, fogged over meadows to traipse through at will. A maze for anyone else, with no beginning and no end.

The rest of them had gone in a half hour ago it seemed, Blair to be used if they needed to pull a distraction or anything. She would be introduced no matter what, but timing was to be used as an advantage.

The towering doors to the throne room boomed open as Blair turned the corner to the hallway, the curls in her hair bouncing with every step despite the light wind billowing through her flowing sleeves as if she were gliding.

The music continued as she kept her head high and entered the space, hands folded neatly in front of her. A small upward twitch of her pretty red lips, her face calm and still.

Still as the room became when her feet hit the marble across that threshold.

She walked, one foot in front of the other. Head in a full fog before she even entered the throne room— but there was a tug. Something that had almost made her stumble, but she sucked in a tight breath as she focused on the dais ahead.

Pulling, tugging, a line going taut the closer she became and her vision cleared. Someone that had been in deep discussion before Blair entered, someone now turned to face her as everyone else did.

All but the Court of Dreamers gaping at her, at her beauty. So much different than her obvious sisters, a third sister to the High Lady of the Night Court, but so much the same that it was easily distinguishable. Gasps and whispers filling Blair’s now clear ears, but she didn’t look anywhere but the male in front of Rhys and Feyre— as much as she wanted to. As much as she pleaded with herself to look away, she could not.

The bright auburn hair, the pale and freckled skin of his handsome face. All fae were gorgeous, she’d been told and equally come to learn but… just the very look of him made her skin heat.

A look of something similar washed through his amber eyes, the matching amber to the flecks in her own, his throat bobbing.

Something like devastation went through this male and though Blair couldn’t tear her eyes from his as she finally made those last steps to the dais, she could see Rhys’ mask slip ever so slightly from the corner of her eye before it went back up.

There was a part of her, so enamored by whoever this person was— and something about him made her slip back into consciousness. That outside look at herself faded back into her own body and she didn’t realize until she breathed again that her heart had been beating so rapidly.

Or that she hadn’t addressed her High Lord and Lady.

Or that they’d demanded the crowd go back to dancing and drinking and eating.

Or that all she did was face this male, a look of shocked confusion painting her usually dull expression because somehow, someway, she felt like she knew him.

And that the tug she felt, that line, went utterly taut before him.

🏷️: @thehighladywrites and anyone else that wants to be added to a tag list for this or anything else lmk lmfao

[clockwork-ashes]

Mirrors

The Lady of Autumn had a name, although she was hardly ever called by it. Like a fading tapestry, once bright colours muted over the years, a whisper of what had been.

Summary: The Lady of Autumn has a difficult conversation with her eldest son (one-shot).

Find more Autumn Court one-shots here :)

The Lady of Autumn had a name, although she was hardly ever called by it. Like a fading tapestry, once bright colours muted over the years, a whisper of what had been. 

Callista.

Chosen by her father, a name both sharp and beautiful, perhaps a wish that she would grow up and be the same. The male who had raised her was centuries dead, along with the rest of her family, and Callista was achingly alone. 

There was a certain reverence to each of her titles, she could admit, thick as blood as they fell from the lips of those around her. 

Lady. 

Wife. 

Mother. 

The last and worst of them all, like a knife taken to her chest each time it was uttered, a reminder of everything she had never wanted. 

“Mother.” The crack of a whip, harsh and unexpected, even after the countless years that had passed. Time moved slow as honey, and the word was no less difficult to bear. 

With a wince, Callista looked up at her eldest son, feeling small in front of his towering frame. The corridor they were in was empty, torches flickering and casting long shadows on the stone walls. There were no windows, making it seem as though it was late at night when Callista knew the sun had just gone up, had watched as she did every morning as it inched over the horizon. . 

Lovely and sharp like shards of broken glass, Eris scowled. 

Callista knew he looked like her, it had always been the case. Nobles and servants alike attested to their similarities, like mirrors, they whispered, meant as a compliment she was sure. 

Firstborn, heir to the throne, Eris had never smiled as a child. Hair scarlet as fresh blood, eyes amber gemstones, pale as bone and cruel in his beauty, he still reminded her of Beron. 

Eris’ full lips were pulled down slightly at the corners in a frown, and Callista hummed in response.

“Have you been listening?” Eris questioned, and she could hear the disbelief whirling in the words. 

“Of course,” she waved a hand dismissively as she told the lie. Her mind had been elsewhere and she did not feel like explaining herself to her son. 

Eris’ lips curled up slowly, the smile empty as his eyes flared with embers in annoyance. “Then I won’t repeat myself.” He shrugged, the movement elegant even without an audience there to witness it. “Lucien’s bags are packed and we’ll be in the eastern territories, should anyone ask.” 

As though she were a puppet with her strings pulled taught, Callista straightened her spine, the sound of blood rushing to her head loud as a river in her ears. “Why?” She managed to ground out, worry deep in her gut. 

Eris raised an auburn brow at her, false confusion on his face. “It’s as I’ve said.” 

Quick as a snake, her fingers fangs, Callista grabbed onto the High Lord’s heir. Flames flashed in her russet eyes as she spoke. “Don’t play games, Eris.” She was not in the mood, and she hoped her tone suggested as much. 

“Never,” he clipped, attempting to pull away. Callista held firmly to the sleeve of his shirt, and Eris let her. “Fair to say you hadn’t been listening?” 

“Speak, Eris,” the demand was rough, and she felt as Eris bristled, although nothing of the sort showed on his face. 

Eris clicked his tongue, mocking despite how serious Callista was. “One of these days, you’ll find that I should be unwilling to help you.” It could have been a threat or a promise, but Callista was not certain.

“Not this day,” she snapped, feeling her cheeks heat with anger. The torches in the empty hallway flared around them. “Do I have to beg you?”

Eris pulled his arm back with a scowl, looking very much like his father. He straightened his shirt with a stiff gesture. “Have I ever asked you for such a thing?” 

“Hardly seems like you’re above it.” 

For decades, there had been a strain between them. Beron’s favourite son, the child she had never wanted but loved despite it. Complicated and entirely out of her control, she could still remember crying when Eris had been born. It had only gotten worse as the decades had passed, as Lucien had grown. 

Perhaps it was hurt that flashed starbright on Eris’s lovely features, but as soon as it had appeared it was gone. Expressionless and cold as ice, Eris spoke. “If you’d been paying attention, mother, you would have heard that father doesn’t want Lucien in the Forest House.” He scowled as he continued,  “at least for a little while.” 

“Why?” She asked again, praying Eris would give her an honest answer.  

“To keep him away from you, he told me,” Eris’s gaze was searching. “You spoil him.” 

“He’s a sweet boy, everyone spoils him,” Callista said, her mouth tight. That much was true, she had seen it with her own eyes, how charmed the entirety of Autumn was with her youngest son. 

“Father gave Lucien one of his daggers, you know the one with the fox hilt?” she nodded, unsure what Eris was about to say. “His to keep, first weapon handed from father to son.” Tradition, Callista knew, was valued in Autumn, where a change in power had not been had for centuries. “Would have been heartwarming,” Eris said, a restrained anger in his tone, “If not for the fact that Lucien’s eyes shone gold as daylight to ruin the moment.” 

As though she had been struck, Callista reared back. Beron had known since Lucien had been born, had seen fit to punish them all for her infidelity, but Lucien had still been claimed as his seventh son. Protection and a curse all at once. The shame would have been too great, Beron had said, to have a disloyal wife and a child that was not his own. 

“Eris–” 

He raised his hand to silence her. “Is joy to blame? Sunbright eyes only when Lucien is happy?” 

“Yes,” Callista breathed, her nerves getting the best of her, panic a near unbearable weight on her slim shoulders. She smelled copper, the sharp tang of blood, and thought it was her own. It took her a moment to realise that Eris had bitten through his cheek, an anxious habit he had inherited from her. 

Mirrors. 

“I’m taking him to my home in the east,” Eris said softly, attempting to comfort her. “Handle your husband and send word when we can return.” 

Callista felt tears embarrassingly begin to form at the corners of her eyes. “Can I say goodbye?” Her voice was small and she felt pathetic, like a horrible mother, her curse to bear. 

Eris looked ready to deny her wish, but perhaps he sensed her despair, her worry in the face of the unknown. With a sigh, a hand running through his hair, Eris offered her his arm. “I think Lucien would be devastated if you didn’t.” 

Relief rained over Callista as she gently held onto her eldest son. “Thank you, Eris,” she said ever so quietly. 

Eris did not respond, and Callista wondered if he even heard her.

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Reader

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: use of the nickname bunny

Based on THIS request.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

Gods, you were going to be in so much trouble. You kept your fast pace as you walked through the woods, keeping your eye out for anything, anything, that might help you. The only reason you even knew where you were was the red and golden leaves adorning the trees, the scent of cinnamon and rain hanging in the crisp air. Autumn. You were in the Autumn Court. 

You had just been practicing winnowing with Rhys, your brother-in-law. Since the war ended, the Inner Circle was finally spending more time helping you learn your magic. You had wanted to learn, to do more, ever since you had been turned fae, tossed in the cauldron like your sisters.

But being the youngest meant also having to take a back seat sometimes. Feyre and Nesta never let you do anything. Never let you help in any way. Not much changed after you had been turned fae. 

The sound of dogs howling made you pause in your tracks. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. They could be farm dogs, it could mean that someone was nearby, someone who could help you. 

But you knew of the type of fae in the Autumn Court and it could also be someone who’d try to hurt you. You bit your lip, finally deciding to make a run for it as the howling got closer.

You took off down a line of trees, pushing yourself to run as fast as you could to create some distance between you and the pack of dogs. But a few stumbles over fallen branches and you could hear the pounding of their paws not far behind you. 

A bark had you looking over your shoulder, cursing as you saw the hounds close behind. They yelped with excitement as they caught sight of you, picking up their pace. 

Pain, awful, debilitating pain, rushed through your leg and you screamed, falling to the ground. You flipped yourself over to see your foot stuck in the claws of a bear trap, the metal prongs piercing through your skin. You cursed as you realized they must’ve been herding you here. 

You let out another cry as you forced yourself to sit up and scoot closer to the trap. The dogs were still running at you and you desperately tried to yank the trap apart, to free your foot. 

It was no use; the dogs were too fast. Faster than any dogs you’d ever encountered. You could do nothing but throw your arms over your face and scream, hoping someone would hear you before you were mauled to death by a pack of dogs. 

To your utter shock, the feeling of teeth ripping into your flesh never came. You slowly put your arms down to see twelve hounds running in a circle around you, yapping and howling into the air. Each one gray and sleek like smoke. 

Footsteps coming from behind you had you whipping around, eyes wide. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of a male. A very handsome male with silky red hair, whiskey amber eyes, and pale skin. He was tall, lithe, but he had the top three buttons of his shirt undone, giving you a glimpse of the muscles beneath. 

The cobalt coat he wore was finely crafted, along with his pants and shoes. The haughty expression on his face told you exactly who you were looking at—Eris, the Heir of Autumn.

You swallowed audibly as he smirked down at you, coming to a halt a few paces away. 

“Well what do we have here?” His voice was smooth like silk and it sent a shiver down your spine. 

You said nothing as he let out a sharp whistle and the hounds circling you halted before running to his side. They sat behind him like perfect little guards, their unusual eyes still on you. You looked back up at the male, who had just stumbled upon you, trapped. He walked around your form, much like his hounds had been doing. 

You couldn’t find any words. Mostly because of the pain of the bear trap ripping through your shin and foot. But also because you had only really ever heard horror stories about Eris—about his cruelty and cunning nature. 

Eris’s fox-like face smirked down at you in amusement. “My hounds seem to have herded a little bunny into one of my traps. Do you have a name, bunny?”

Should you tell him who you were? That you were one of the Archeron sisters, that you were from the Night Court? You knew briefly through listening in on Feyre’s conversations that they considered Eris an ally. But they also said he could hardly be trusted. 

“Does the little bunny not have a voice?” Eris purred, still circling around you like a predator playing with its food. “Hm, let me guess. The golden brown hair and the big, brown doe eyes that look incredibly similar to my brother’s mate’s…Have I trapped an Archeron?”

You used the sleeve of your dress to wipe at the tear tracks on your cheeks. You tried to back away from him, but the movement only jostled your leg, causing a small whimper to escape your throat. 

“I-I’m not sure how I ended up here, my Lord,” you mumbled. Gods, you felt pathetic. “Can you p-please help me?”

Eris tilted his head at you, in an animalistic way you still weren’t used to with the fae. He studied you for a moment before another smirk bloomed on his handsome fox-like face. He was picturesque with his disarming beauty.

“You see, I think this is all a bit unfair. You seem to know who I am, but you still haven’t told me your name, little bunny.” He knelt down next to you, reaching a gloved hand out to push some of your hair from your face. 

It should’ve alarmed you, his closeness, the touch of his hand. But for some reason, it didn’t. You swallowed again, considering your options. Maybe he would help you get home. 

“I’m one of Feyre’s sisters,” you managed to stutter out. 

“Is that so?” He seemed to be enjoying this. “And what is the name of the bunny I’ve managed to trap?” 

You mumbled your name out loud, glancing around the meadow you were in, at the hounds that were now all laying down, still staring at you. You blinked at them and the biggest one, the leader of the pack, stood suddenly. You kept your eyes trained on her as she marched over to you, shaking as you examined her large head, her jaw that could easily rip your throat out. 

But to your surprise, she merely meandered over to you and brushed her head against yours, letting out a low whine. Your eyes widened, looking over at Eris for a second to see a flicker of shock cross his face. The hound let out a small yip before licking the side of your face, drawing out a surprised giggle from you. Was she trying to…comfort you? 

“Ashera,” Eris said sternly with a snap of the fingers. But the hound merely glanced at him and then went back to nudging you with her fluffy head. 

You raised a shaky hand and stroked her back, bewildered by the dog's behavior. She licked you up the side of your face again and Eris said her name a little louder this time, making her ears twitch. She whined at him but listened, going back to the other dogs. 

“I didn’t know there was a fourth Archeron sister. Where have they been hiding you?” Eris asked, drawing your attention back to him. “And why?”

You shrugged your shoulders. Had they been hiding you? No one has ever mentioned keeping you a secret. “I-I don’t know.”

He waved a hand in the air, summoning a piece of parchment and pen. He quickly scribbled something on it before flicking it away. You watched it disappear with awe, still taken aback by the use of magic. 

Eris seemed to remember you were still stuck. He let out a sigh and placed his hands on both sides of the trap. He paused to look at you. “Sorry, little bunny, but this is going to hurt.”

And then he pulled the trap apart with his bare hands. You let out a loud cry as the metal spikes were pulled out of your leg. You whimpered, pulling your knee to your chest as you examined the damage to your shin. 

Blood was now gushing from the wounds that circled around your shin. You grabbed some of your skirt in your hand, intending to use it to put pressure on the wounds but Eris’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. 

“Don’t do that,” he hissed. “Are you dumb? Your skirt is covered in dirt and mud. You’ll only infect it.”

Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He reached a hand towards you but now free from the trap, you scrambled away from him with a whimper. He let out an amused chuckle.

“No need to be frightened, little bunny,” he purred. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You looked at him warily as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dangling it in the air between the two of you. You swallowed audibly but didn’t move as he approached again and wrapped it around your ankle as a makeshift gauze. 

He hummed, standing up and brushing invisible dirt from his pants. “Now, are you going to tell me why exactly an Archeron is in my court?”

“I was learning how to winnow. I-I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute I was in Velaris and then next, I was here.” 

He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Interesting. Well, come on. Let’s get to Spring so someone can come retrieve you before you get yourself killed.”

Eris held at his gloved hand to you. You took it, letting him help you rise from the ground, trying to keep weight off your injured ankle. As soon as you were up, he winnowed the two of you away. 

A moment later, you appeared on the border of Autumn and Spring. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for Eris grabbing you by the upper arm. You blushed, muttering a small thank you.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to walk the rest of the way so we don’t set off any wards that will alert my father,” Eris said, coolly. 

He set off and you trailed after him, hobbling slowly because of your injury. You only made it a few paces before Eris turned around. 

“Hurry it up, bunny, I don’t have all day.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Sorry, it’s a little hard to walk considering my foot was just in a bear trap.”

Eris tsked, looking down at your ankle before his eyes trailed up your form. He let out a sigh and strided back to you. Before you could even figure out what he was doing, he grabbed you by the waist and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

You squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing?! Put me down!”

“Like I said, I don’t have all day,” Eris said, stalking off towards the border to Spring. You jostled on his shoulder with each step he took but he held you firmly with an arm around your thighs like you weighed absolutely nothing. 

You pounded on his back with your fists. “Ugh, Let me down!”

“You even hit with the strength of a rabbit,” Eris laughed to himself, ignoring your attempts to free yourself from his hold. 

“Jerk,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as you dangled there. 

Eris just laughed again. You bickered with him all the way to a clearing where he finally came to a stop and put you down. You huffed, smoothing down your dress and hair as you glared up at him. 

“You’re welcome,” he purred with an arrogant smile. 

The shadows around the clearing seemed to move in a flurry and then a familiar face stepped out of the darkness. 

“Get away from her,” Azriel growled at Eris.

Eris held his hands up, that smile never leaving his face as Azriel stalked towards you. His eyes narrowed as he sniffed, smelling the blood on you.

“Did he hurt you?” Azriel asked, his tone dark. He grabbed you by the arm and yanked you to his side, causing you to stumble. 

Before you could even open your mouth, Eris cut in.

“Must you have such a low opinion of me, shadowsinger.” Eris wore that fox-like grin again. “I haven’t harmed a single hair on her head.”

Azriel looked to you, waiting for you to verify his story.

“He speaks the truth, Azriel,” you said, clutching your ankle. “I ran into a bear trap on my own. He helped me out of it and brought me here.”

“And why were you running?” Azriel tossed Eris a glare.

“His d-dogs scared me. But they’re friendly,” you replied, trying to ease the tension in the air. 

Eris scoffed, as if no one had ever referred to his hounds as friendly before. 

Azriel looked at you with exasperation. “Come on, let’s get you home. No need to linger here.” He glared at Eris one last time. 

Before you could protest, he hoisted you up into his arms. You glanced at Eris one last time to see a moment of shock cross his face as he met your gaze.

“Thank you,” you called out as you gave him a small wave before you were swept away in the shadows.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You didn’t see Eris again for months. Not until Winter Solstice, when it had been decided that Nesta would try to intrigue him enough to keep him as a steady ally. When Elain had declared that she was going to join the Inner Circle in the Court of Nightmares, you had demanded to be taken as well, despite arguments from nearly everyone. But you were tired of being treated like a baby.

You had gotten your way in the end, after agreeing to strict orders to stay at the foot of the dais the entire time. It wasn’t ideal but it was something…better than staying home. 

You were dressed in a black tulle, A-line gown. The bodice was sheer but adorned with lace appliques embedded with shining silver gems. It had a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder lace straps. It swept the floor with tulle and lace, pooling at your feet like dark water. It was beautiful, more girlish than the dress Nesta was wearing but not as plain as Elain’s modest, long-sleeved dress. 

You stood at the bottom of the dais next to your sisters, between the two Illyrian warriors, as your sister addressed the crowd. Eris was standing next to Keir at the head of the gathered crowd, dressed in Night Court black himself. It was hard to deny how truly beautiful he was—especially with his striking red hair contrasting the black so well. You could feel his eyes on you from time to time but kept your gaze forward. 

 “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you,” Feyre declared. 

Keir was the first to approach with a low bow. “Allow me to extend my congratulations.”

“And allow me to extend mine as well, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.” Eris had stalked forward as well, giving your sister a pretty, cultivated smile. “He shall be thrilled by the news.” 

“I’m sure he will.” Rhys kept his eyes trained on the Autumn Heir. “Music!” 

An orchestra began playing and Feyre raised her voice and said, “Go—eat.”

The crowd slowly began to dissipate. Keir also disappeared as half the crowd began to dance seamlessly to the music. 

“Before you join the merriment, Eris,” Rhys drawled. “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”

You tuned out the conversation, taking in the rest of the throne room. It was your first time here in Hewn City. It was as monstrous as expected. But beautiful still, in the dark way that screamed Night. 

You tuned back into the conversation just as Feyre spoke, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” 

She looked at the three of you, as if deciding who she would offer to the Heir of Autumn even though it had already been decided. Elain gave a passable impression of appearing interested, as she had been directed to. Nesta just looked bored. Rhys and Feyre had given you no direction, claiming Eris would be tempted more by power and a wide-eyed, young girl, as they had called you, would not be of interest to him. 

“My oldest sister shall take my place.” 

But it was like Eris hadn’t heard Feyre speak as he stepped forward and stopped in front of you, not Nesta. You blinked at him, your brows raising with confusion as he extended his hand to you, an open invitation. 

“I’ll take the little bunny,” Eris purred with that fox-like grin. He kept his amber eyes on you, not looking towards Feyre despite speaking to her. “If the Lady agrees, of course.” 

“I-I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the dances, my Lord,” you said, politely, ignoring the hand outstretched to you as your cheeks turned red at the attention. 

Eris didn’t back down. “That’s quite alright. I’ve been told I’m a good lead.” 

You glanced at Feyre and Rhys, uncertain of what you were supposed to do. This wasn’t the plan. Eris was never supposed to take interest in you. You were a speck of dust compared to the power rolling off Nesta—power, the only thing he was supposed to care about. 

You felt talons scrape your mind and let your sister in.

Just go with it for now. We’ll send in Azriel to take over before it goes too far. 

You slipped your hand in Eris’s hold and let him escort you to the dance floor just as the dance finished and the introductory strains of the next began. You couldn’t wipe the wide-eyed look off your face as much as you tried to. You placed your free hand on his shoulder just as his broad hand slid around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

You blushed, somehow turning even more red than you already had been. 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear just as the violins began their song. 

“And so the fox ensnares the bunny again.” 

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Stop calling me that.” 

“Why?” he purred, beginning to lead you into the dance. “It just seems so fitting.” 

“It’s not,” you grumbled, trying not to stumble over your own feet. You were lucky that this waltz was similar to the one from the human lands or else you would have surely embarrassed yourself already. 

The pair of you finished your first rotation around the dance floor in silence but that smirk never seemed to leave Eris’s face to your annoyance. Flame simmered in his eyes, never leaving yours for a second. You felt something flutter in your chest. 

“So,” Eris finally spoke. “Have your owners finally let you out of your cage?” 

“I am not caged here,” you murmured. “Just because they don’t find you pleasant company, doesn’t mean I haven’t been allowed around others.” 

You snapped your mouth shut, a brief wave of horror passing through you. You had just insulted him. You had just done the opposite of what was supposed to be happening tonight. But to your surprise, Eris just chuckled, not seeming offended at all. 

“Do you find me unpleasant, Lady?”

“I remain undecided, my Lord,” you said. “Though everyone certainly has a lot to say about you.”

“What lies have they told you about me, sweetheart?” He twirled your around again, your skirt swishing in the air. A faint fluttering of butterflies grew in your stomach. 

“What are these lies you speak of, my Lord?”

You tried to channel your sister but it came out so wrong. You didn’t sound as aloof as her. Nor as cold. 

“Don’t try to play the game they want you to.” Eris’s smirk grew into a grin. “It does not suit you, bunny.” 

“Maybe if you stopped playing games, I wouldn’t feel the need to as well,” you muttered with a frown. Eris’s grin sharpened. 

You were failing at this task. Failing so profoundly that it was embarrassing. You hoped your family couldn’t hear this conversation. 

“This is not a game to me, little bunny,” Eris purred, his grip around your waist tightening. “None of it is.”

“Your behavior seems to say otherwise. So does your reputation.” 

“Do I not ally myself with this court under constant threat of being discovered and killed by my father? Do I not offer aid whenever Rhysand wishes?” 

“That matters little to me, my Lord,” you said. “I am not a piece on this political chessboard you seem to have with Rhysand.” 

“So what matters to you, Y/n?” Eris kept pace with the other dancers and you followed his lead as best as you could. “Tell me. I wish to know.” 

Your hand slipped from his shoulder, down to his chest and right over his beating heart. “This. This is what matters to me. I would rather someone good of heart over someone with power.” 

“How sweet,” Eris teased. “How naive.” 

“Gods forbid someone be hopeful for the goodness of people to be the change in this world,” you bristled. 

To your surprise, Eris merely smirked once again. “Goodness cannot exist amongst cruelty, sweetheart. Just as hope cannot exist under the burden of responsibility.” 

You studied him closely. “Aren’t you tired of putting on a show, Eris? I have seen monsters. You do not seem like one of them.” 

Eris yanked you closer and your heart began to pound in your chest. “Then I’d say you haven’t seen enough of the world and its monsters if you truly believe that, bunny.”

“Stop calling me that!” 

“Wide-eyed, fluffy tailed,” Eris listed off, his fox-like grin returning. “Still has hope that she can change the world. I have seen this story, sweetheart. I know how it ends. Perhaps it would be best for you to return to your safe, little burrow where you belong.” 

A wave of anger crashed into you, your body heating up. 

“You don’t get to tell me where I belong. No one does,” you huffed. “Especially not a jerk who doesn’t have dreams of his own and lets everyone else dictate who he is!” 

Eris didn’t seem perturbed by your impassioned speech. If anything, his grin seemed to grow. You hadn’t even realized the song had ended and that the two of you had come to a halt on the edge of the dance floor, too lost in your anger. 

“You’re just going to have to learn the hard way, sweetheart. You think having dreams and hope makes you something but it doesn’t. It can’t.” Your hand dropped from his chest as he brought the one he was holding up to his lips.  “You are only ever going to be what others think you are.”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before letting it fall to your side.  

“Sly fox.” He pointed to himself before turning his hand to you in a sweeping gesture. “Dumb bunny.” 

“I am not a dumb bunny,” you growled. 

“Right,” he drawled in a teasing manner that infuriated you. “And you are definitely not caged here, either.” 

Your eyes widened as he strode away from you, disappearing in the crowd but not before he tossed one last remark over his shoulder, “I’ll catch you later, bunny.”

You stared at his back as a scarred hand landed on your shoulder with a firm grip, knocking you out of your stupor. You looked up at Azriel, at his cold, unreadable face that stared down at you. 

“Come on,” he murmured. “I’ve been ordered to take you back home.”

And just like that, your night–and freedom—was over. Eris’s words and his stupidly handsome face haunted you the entire journey back to Velaris. 

[animezinglife]

"Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—and they fuck like it, too."

Lucien: [completely minding his own business]

Feyre:

[rainingriversofyou]

Helion x Lady Autumn

A Court Of Thorns And Roses

Artist: hancorinne_

[honeybeefae]

You're Mine (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Summary// After leaving Eris behind to fulfill your parents' desire for marriage, knowing the two of you could never be, you did your best to move on. It had been five years, and you were finally starting to settle into your life with your husband when a late-night visitor brought back feelings you thought you had long since buried. 

(This idea has burrowed its way into my head and won’t leave anytime soon, so I’m dragging you all into this with me. I hope you like it <3 It's been awhile since I've wrote anything so if you have any critiques or opinions, please let me know!)

WARNINGS: Smut, Fertility Issues, Verbal Abuse (Spouse), Physical Abuse (Spouse) (A slap but nothing more), Possessive!Eris, Jealous!Eris, Cheating, Breeding Kink, Spanking

Five Years Ago

“Mother, please!” You beg, tears streaking down your hot cheeks as she gives you a look full of pity. It was a useless cause to try to convince your father against this arrangement, but your mother… she used to be a dreamer like you. She once thought of running away with a prince, of living happily ever after, so why wouldn’t she give you the same chance?

“Darling, please, collect yourself.” She urges, grabbing your hands and pulling you towards her. “Pierre will be here any moment with his family. They cannot see you like this.”

“They don’t have to! You could sneak me out the back, let me run away with-” You begin only to flinch when she grabs your face roughly, her eyes shining with a strange mixture of anger and agony. 

“With you, Y/N? With Eris?” She hisses, eyebrows furrowing together. “He is the heir to the Court. He will never choose you. He cannot. He will go with whichever maiden secures more political power, and that is not you.”

Your lower lip trembles as her words cut through you like hot steel. They settle in your soul, trying to burn out any hope you might have, and yet you persist. 

“No, Mother, you don’t understand. I love him. He loves me. We’ve been courting for months, dancing together and strolling through the gardens. Hells, he gave me this!” You gesture to the ruby necklace resting above your collarbone, wrapped in a gold band that resembles a fox’s tail. “Everyone has seen us together. His family, my family, does that mean nothing?”

She stares at you for a moment, her mouth turning downwards as her fury fades into sorrow. You swallow, trying to get the lump in your throat to disappear as the silence stretches on, but it refuses. 

“My darling girl,” She coos, her hands now cupping your cheeks. “One’s first love is something special, an experience worth remembering, but it is one that is never meant to last. He has his duties, as do you. It was never meant to be.”

The realization of the situation hits you in waves of denial, anger, and agony. It makes your head swim, and your stomach lurch as you try desperately to find anything to keep you afloat. 

“What if he does choose me, though? What if his parents see me as he does? Someone who makes him smile and laugh, who treats him well. If you could just let me speak with him one more time, keep Pierre and his father busy, I only need an hour.” You try to bargain with her, placing your hands over her own. She goes to respond, your hope hanging by a thread, only for your father’s voice to rise above the two of you.

“He has moved on, Y/N.” He sighs, clearly exasperated by your antics. “Beron has told us about Eris’s betrothed. It’s been arranged since birth. It is time for you to do the same.”

“But if he knew, why would he fall in love with me? I know what I saw, I know what I felt.” You press, wrapping your arms around yourself as your father’s jaw clenches. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“You don’t think he would?” His scowl deepens as he glances at your mother over your shoulder before fishing for something in his coat pocket, ignoring his wife as she begins to protest. “Read this.”

“What is it?” You ask.

“Just read it.” He pushes the parchment into your hand, rolling his eyes.

Your fingers tremble as you glance at the letter, noticing Eris’s penmanship immediately. The words seem to blur together towards the end, but you realize it isn’t due to his writing but your tears. One of them splashes on the paper, staining it immediately as his voice echoes in your mind.

I regret to inform you of the ending of our courtship, effective immediately. Please know this is through not fault of your own. You were a wonderful experience. I should not have led you on, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Even though I am the least deserving of it. 

Yours,

Eris Vanserra

A loud sound echoed off the walls, and it wasn’t until your knees hit the floor that you realized it had come from you. You felt the world collapsing in, your dreams fading with each heartbeat as your worst fear came true. Your parents watched, one with sympathy and one with indifference, as you came to grips with reality. 

The silence after was choking you as the paper lay taunting you, his signature ingrained in your brain as a loud knock was heard from the front. Soft hands gingerly picked you up as your father’s footsteps led to the door, his voice booming as he greeted Pierre.

“Come now, Y/N,” She shushes you, brushing your tears away with a mother’s softness. “I know it hurts, but in time, it will fade, and you will find happiness with Pierre and your future family.”

“I cannot imagine feeling anything other than this, Mama.” You murmur, numbness starting to spread throughout your body as she smiles sadly and kisses your forehead.

“You will, sweet girl.” She assures you, pinching your cheeks to bring some color back as Pierre draws closer. 

“How do you know?” Your gaze raises to meet hers, searching.

She chuckles, though you know it is without humor, watching as she seems to drift far away for a moment before the sounds of your father's throat clearing behind you brings her back. 

Her arms pull you into a tight hug as she whispers into your ear, “Because I did.”

Present Day

From your wedding day to now, you have been desperately searching for the happiness your mom said would come. You threw everything into your relationship, forcing Eris into the darkest crevices of your heart so that you could move on. Pierre wasn’t an awful man. He was kind and generous, always concerned about your feelings and ensuring you were cared for. 

He knew about your past with Eris and never pushed you but soothed you like a balm to your soul. Your love for Pierre was different, but it was there; you just needed something more. However, you knew better than to dream of it. You could be happy with him, will be happy with him. 

Eris had made it very clear that he did not intend to return for you. He hadn’t even had the courage to come to your wedding nor send you any well wishes. You had seen him since, of course, but he always did his best to avoid you. If you did happen to catch his gaze during a dinner or ball, his eyes were always full of anger. 

It was in your best interest to forget all about him. 

You were torn from your thoughts as the front door opened, your husband poking his head around to look for you. A soft smile pulls at your lips effortlessly, rising up to greet him, only to stall when you see how angry he is. 

“Pierre, what is it?” You ask, forehead creasing as he all but slams a letter he had been holding onto the dining table.

“The new high lord,” He scowls, jaw clenching. “He is asking myself and the other merchants to travel across Prythian to secure new deals or else forfeit our titles.”

New high lord?

“Beron is dead?” You whisper, grasping the edge of the table. “How did he…who did…was it…?”

“Eris, yes, the treasonous snake,” Pierre grunts, raising his eyes to you. “It apparently happened overnight, and he is already throwing everything out. I knew he was a bastard, but to-”

“He is not a bastard,” You say before you can catch yourself, your mind screaming at you for rushing to his defense. You owe him nothing—no loyalty, no love, nothing. So why did you speak?

The air in the room seemed to change as he cocks his head, his eyes darkening dangerously. You feel the hairs on your neck raise as you step back, trying to put distance between you. However, Pierre doesn’t hesitate to follow you as the letter is now crumpled in his fist.

“I knew it.” He snaps, nostrils flaring as he grabs your arm and yanks you to him. You let out a small yelp, trying to push against him, but he doesn’t yield. “I’ve given you everything you could ever want. I’ve built you this home, this life when I could’ve treated you like filth.”

“Pierre, please, let go,” Your voice is a whimper as his grasp tightens. “You’re hurting me.”

“Me? Hurting you?” His laugh echoes off the walls, one of his hands running hastily through his hair. “Don’t act like you don’t deserve it. I’ve put up with this teenage moping for five fucking years. I’ve played the part of the gentleman, the family man, and you still can’t get over him. Pathetic doesn’t even begin to cover what you are.”

Tears fall down your face as you sob, finally gaining the strength to rip your arm away as he turns and punches a hole into the wall beside him. You cannot stop yourself from trembling as his shoulders shake with fury, his breath coming in short pants.

“Do you know what they all tell me? Our friends and family?” Pierre asks, closing his eyes. “They tell me how sorry they are for me. How much they pity me. They’ve even suggested taking a whore on the side, so at least that way I could secure an heir.”

The last sentence strikes deep, one of your hands resting on your lower stomach as he gives you a mocking laugh. You had been trying to have a child for a while now. Under the care of a midwife, you had been drinking the teas, reducing your stress, and month after month, you failed. Pierre had been there for you throughout it, promising you that it was not your fault, and for him now to throw it back in your face…it made you sick. 

“Y-you told me that it was okay, that these things take time. Going into this marriage, you knew what I had been through and who my former lover was, and you said it was fine.” You hate how your voice trembles as you keep your eyes on the floor. “I thought you understood me, that you could see I was finally starting to heal, but was it all a lie? Have I been sleeping next to someone who I do not know?”

He watches you momentarily, taking in how meek you look and the tears that now stain your face. Footsteps fill the silence and stop once you see his feet, a soft hand coming to cup your chin and force you to look up.

Pierre was there in body but not in mind. The eyes that once held so much comfort were now empty, the smile now a scowl, and his touch burning rather than soothing. He turned your face from side to side, mesmerizing your beauty before smirking.

“I guess that’s two men who’ve used you now, huh?”

You don’t register the slap you gave him until you see his pupils dilate, your eyes widening in fear as your palm begins to burn from the contact. He snarls at you, and before you can apologize or scream, you aren’t sure which one, he backhands you and sends you spiraling to the floor. 

“I’ll be back in the morning, don’t wait up.” He calls over his shoulder, straightening his jacket before he walks out the door without even a glance at your crumpled body.

It takes longer than you’d like to admit to collect yourself off the floor, your face red-hot even though you know you have already healed. He hit you. He yelled at you, belittled you, and then slapped you as if it were nothing. A wolf in sheep's clothing. 

Your hands dig into the wood of the table as you pull yourself up, hating how weak you feel as you cry. This wouldn't have happened if you had kept your mouth shut. Why did you even say anything? After all this time, why did you feel you still needed to speak up for the man who deserted you?

“Fuck!” You scream as your sadness turns to rage, grabbing a nearby vase and hurling it at the wall. It instantly shatters and clatters to the floor, flower petals scattering everywhere with the glass shards. 

It doesn’t make you feel better. So you throw another vase and another, and then a portrait until the room looks like a tornado ripped through it. But nothing is working to fill the hole in your chest that was just violently ripped open once again. 

A clock nearby chimes out twelve times, and you blink as you realize how much time has passed. Your adrenaline leaves your body quickly as exhaustion takes place, and your eyes glare at the front door one last time before you start heading up the stairs.

However, as your foot hits the first step, a loud knocking startles you. At first, you think it’s Pierre, drunk and probably without a key, but then you hear a voice. A voice that has haunted your dreams for five years.

“Y/N? Y/N, open the door. I know you are in there.” 

It can’t be…

You tiptoe to the door, your heart racing as you stare down at the knob. What should you do? Why was he here? What did he want? Should you even let him in? The consequences could be deadly, especially after what he had done just last night to his own father, but your heart was winning over your head right now.

“Please, my love, let me in.”

Your hand grasps the knob and turns it before you can stop yourself, the door opening to reveal Eris.

He looks the same, damn him. His red hair was tied back in a half-up style, the rest falling over his slender shoulders covered in a thick, dark green coat. Eris’s eyes, the color of molten amber, met yours with a ferocity that made your breath catch. Your stomach fills with butterflies as the night air caresses your skin, whispering long-forgotten memories that send your heart fluttering. 

“Eris…” you whisper, your voice tight with emotion. Whatever spell had taken over the two of you broke as you said his name. His hands came up to grasp your face as he pulled you in and kissed you, lips molding to yours as if they had never told you goodbye. 

And, cauldron help you, you kiss him back just as fiercely. You had thought about seeing him again more often than you care to admit, about how you would scream at him for what he did to you or prove to him you were better off without him. But once again, your heart craves what your mind desperately tries to discard.

It’s only when your back hits the wall of the foyer that you pull away, gasping for air as you shove him back. He blinks, dumbfounded, and goes for you again, but you shake your head and slap his hands away, gaze hot as years of resentment flood your veins.

“How dare you come into my home and kiss me like that after all you did.” You seethe, teeth clenching as he regards you like a caged predator. “You can’t just show up and do that! You can’t come in here and ruin my marriage, my life like you have any ownership of me.”

“I don’t think I was the one to ruin your marriage, little fox.” Eris replies smoothly, standing straight and giving a pointed look behind you to the mess of a dining room. 

“Don’t call me that.” You snarl, wrapping your arms around your body for comfort. “You need to leave. Now.”

“I won’t,” He states, looking you over. “I’ve defeated my father. I’m rebuilding the court and our reputation, gutting it from the inside out. I’m here to collect the last thing I need.”

Your brain goes fuzzy as he stretches out his hand, waiting for you to fall into his arms as if the past were not there. As if his letter and necklace weren’t still tucked away in a drawer by your bed. No matter how badly you missed and yearned for him, you couldn’t forgive him that easily.

“You led me on for years,” You say softly, your voice numb as you take another step back. “You courted me as if you cared. You made me believe we were real, that we would be together forever. Do you think I could just forgive and forget that after you left me with only a letter for an explanation?”

“I thought you were smarter than that.” Eris sighs and clenches his jaw, running a hand down his face as he closes the front door. 

“Excuse me? Get the-” 

“I didn’t write that letter, Y/N.” He interrupts you, coming to stand in front of you in just two short steps. “My father forced me. And yours, for that matter. I would never let you go. It was only under threat of your own harm that I chose to obey, but I swore to myself that as soon as I took control, I would come find you.”

The angry retort you had building dies in your throat, your head tilting to the side as if you hadn’t heard him correctly. 

“You…you didn’t mean what you wrote?” Your voice has a hint of hope, like the last spark of a fire, but you can’t help it. If he was telling the truth, and you still weren’t entirely convinced he was, it meant he had been waiting for you all these years. 

He grabs your face again, but it’s soft and caring this time, his thumb brushing across your cheek and collecting a tear you didn’t know had escaped. You look into his eyes, finding nothing but honesty, which only worsens it. 

“It hurt that you think I would treat you that way, that I could just throw everything we had away…” Eris whispers, tilting your chin up so you can’t look away. “I’m not your husband. I take care of what is mine. Forever. ”

The mention of him makes you wince and somewhat come back to your senses, glancing towards the clock and realizing he could be back at any moment. If he caught you with Eris, there would be no telling what he would do. Eris could take care of himself; he was a High Lord now after all, but you were vulnerable.

“Pierre…he could be home any minute. Eris, you can’t be here. You need to leave.” You frown, trying to move past him, only to gasp when his hand moves down to your neck and stills you. The hold isn’t tight, but you freeze, wide eyes looking up at him in worry. “Eris, if he finds you here with me-”

“Did you not hear what I said, little fox?” He asks mockingly, bowing his head so his lips can brush against your ear. “I take care of what is mine. And you are mine.”

Eris accentuates his words with a roll of his hips, his half-hard cock pressing against your lower half teasingly. You don’t stop the whimper that sneaks past your lips or the way your neck turns so he can mouth over your pulse point. 

“I’ve waited years for this moment, to see you again and take you home. I’ve watched as that pathetic excuse for a man dotes on you and brags about how pretty you sound in bed.” He growls, grabbing your hips and lifting you up effortlessly as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. “The only thing that kept me sane was knowing you weren’t moaning from him like you did for me, that he can’t fill you up like your needy little pussy begs for.” 

“Please…” You whine, though you aren’t entirely sure what you are asking for. His touch was like fire against your cool skin, setting you aflame in a way you hadn’t felt in years. 

One of his hands snakes between the two of you and quickly finds your panties, his lips curling back as he feels the heat of your cunt. You swear you hear him purr as he begins to furiously bite and suck on your neck and collarbone, marking you. 

“Tell me what you need.” Eris commands, pulling back to look into your eyes.

Words fail you momentarily as you stare at each other, your heart threatening to explode as he refuses to drop his gaze. There were so many consequences to this decision, no matter what you choose, and so many things that need to be said before you can logically proceed.

But when the pad of his thumb presses against your clit and circles it slowly, the corner of his mouth tilting up to smirk, you know logic will not win tonight. 

“You, Eris,” You moan, trying to press further onto his hand for more friction. “You’re all I’ve ever needed.”

You don’t have time to scream as he squeezes you tightly and carries you up the stairs, your body bouncing so that your lower half hits his cock with each step. He groans and looks around momentarily before kicking open your bedroom door. He then throws you onto the bed and starts to undo his belt, all while keeping those burning amber eyes on you.

“Strip. Now.” He orders, voice raspy as you hastily follow his instructions, your fingers fumbling with the laces of your corset. Eris is already naked by the time you have it halfway undone, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight as he stalks over to you and grabs both sides of your top. 

“I hope you weren’t too fond of this.” Eris hums, giving no warning as he rips it in two.  You shiver as the cool air licks at your skin, your nipples pebbling while he licks his lips in anticipation. “I always thought you looked better bare anyways.”

Heat runs down your body at the comment, your thighs clenching, immediately catching his eye. You try to rise up on your knees to kiss him, but he is quick to pin you down, straddling your waist as his cock rests heavily over your cunt. 

“Let me touch you, please,” You don’t even recognize your own voice as you beg for him. It had been so long since you had felt this needy for someone. “I need something, anything, just please!”

Before you can babble anymore, his lips collide with yours, claiming you possessively as two of his fingers prod at your soaking pussy. He bites down on your bottom lip, and at the same time, he shoves his fingers inside, giving you no prep as he swallows your cries. 

“I know, baby, I know,” He coos into your ear, moving to nibble on your earlobe. “We can make love next time, but right now, right now I need to fuck your pretty little brain out to make up for lost time.”

Your back arches as he curls his fingers, finding your spot with ease and teasing you as he kisses down your neck and to your breasts. He sucks your left nipple into his mouth, capturing it between his teeth and tugging until you moan. His cock is leaking against your thigh as he ruts against you. 

Rough sex wasn’t new to you, though it had been a while. Pierre was always gentle, taking his time, and while Eris had his moments, he was quite fond of making you beg. However, when fantasizing about this, you always imagine Eris cherishing the moment. This was raw and feral.

“Eris, I’m c-close…” You groan, rolling your hips so he can get even deeper. Your walls flutter around his thick fingers, squeezing them, but right before you can fall over the edge, he pulls them out roughly. “No!”

“The only way you are cumming tonight is around this cock.” He grunts, flipping you over so that you are lying on your stomach before dragging your hips up. Both of his hands squeeze your ass before he lines himself up to your hole, rubbing his length up and down to coat himself in your slick.

“Ohhh fuck…” You moan as the head catches on your clit, your entire cunt throbbing in anticipation. “Fuck me.”

“Not yet, little fox. I want you to tell me how badly you want it.” Eris says lowly, grasping his cock and barely pressing into you before pulling away. “Tell me how much you missed me, how much you thought about me while your husband fucked you in this bed.”

Your nails dig so hard into the mattress you are sure you’ll rip it as you screw your eyes shut, already so sensitive from his teasing. It felt so wrong to speak the thoughts you have been burying for so long, to admit that you never got over the High Lord behind you. 

All of your inhibitions get thrown out the window, though, as he lands a harsh smack on your ass, his fingers pinching your clit in annoyance. 

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t thought about this, about me, Y/N. That whenever your husband would roll over at night after a mediocre fuck you wouldn’t rub that needy clit while wishing it was me.” He hisses, one of his hands grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking until your neck is craned up. “Give yourself to me, let it go.”

“Yes, okay, yes, I haven’t stopped thinking about you!” You sob, every nerve in your body on edge as he grins in approval. “Every time I had sex, every night in the bath, I couldn’t stop picturing your hands. Your chest. Your cock.”

Eris rewards your confession with what you had been craving, thrusting his entire length in one fluid movement as your pussy burns from the stretch. 

“More. Give me more.” He demands, pulling almost all the way out before snapping his hips forward.

“I-” You swallow, your mind starting to fuzz with the ecstasy of having him back inside you. “I would close my eyes and pretend it was you. I wanted it to be you. He could never compare to you, could never make me feel this good.”

Your head drops down as he lets go of your hair in favor of grabbing your hips, hypnotized by the way your cunt swallowed him whole. His hair was starting to stick to his forehead as he truly fucked you. There was no gentleness, no tendrils of love, just pure ownership and passion.

And cauldron damn you did you love it.

“Gods damn it,” Eris swears, moving one of his hands underneath you to rest on your abdomen so he could feel just how deep inside you he was. “Touch yourself, Y/N. I want you to cum on my cock as I fill you up.”

There was a distant panic in the back of your head at the thought of him cumming inside you. You weren’t on any special tea to prevent pregnancy. In fact, you were on something to encourage it. 

“Eris, wait-” You try to protest, your words dying in your throat as he starts to rub your clit for you. His hands are calloused from years of use, giving you the friction that you need to cum within minutes. “Eris, I’m not on any birth control. If you-”

“What, you think I don’t want to knock you up?” He chuckles, voice rough as he increases the speed of both his fingers and thrusts. “Oh, Y/N, did you already forget you’re mine? I came here to claim you and breed you, little fox.”

“Oh my gods,” You whimper, the image only making you draw closer to your finish as he bends over to get right next to your ear. 

“You’re going to take all of my cum and thank me for it. I’m going to do what your husband couldn’t, right here in his bed for him to smell when he comes home.” Eris sneers, a tingle going up his spine as he feels his balls tighten with the need to release. “I’ll have you barefoot and pregnant for me before he can even come get you. You’re fucking mine.”

“Yours, Eris!” You repeat, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you clench around him. He gives one more circle on your bud, and you are gone, lost to a mind-numbing orgasm that has him throwing his head back and roaring. 

Every muscle in your body tightens and releases as you greedily milk his own cum into your womb, your screams echoing off the bedroom walls. You don’t even register Eris biting your shoulder, the pain mixing dangerously with the pleasure as small rivulets of blood run down your back. 

You feel your knees give out as you collapse onto the bed, lungs begging for air while Eris slowly pulls out of you. He is silent, and you have just enough strength to look back to see him watching his speed leak out of your gaping hole, his fingers quick to collect it and stuff it back inside you.

“Eris…” You whisper, your eyes are heavy as he gingerly lifts you up and cradles you in his arms. “Is this…did you really come back for me?”

He lets out a small huff of air in humor as he nods, kissing your forehead and smoothing away your hair. Exhausted, you lean into the touch, and he seems to hold you closer. “I’ll always come back for you, little fox.” 

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

Lucien, trying to buy a Father's day card:

Lucien: Excuse me, do you have any that just say "You are my dad"

Associate: Well I-

Lucien: How about "You banged my mom"

Associate: No...

Lucien: You know what, I'll just get a blank one

Lucien, writing in the card: You are a father. This is a day. Here is a card.

[runningwiththeoceans]

i have a headcanon that when Eris is filled with murderous rage, it gets REALLY cold in whatever room he is in bc all the warmth and heat is leeched from his general vicinity and he takes it for himself

[pathesis]

@doctordash QUEEN OF THE AUTUMN COURT 🎃🍂☕

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 5

I Want Crazy

Azriel Eris x Reader

After a promotion to an emissary position by a meddling Tarquin, Y/N and Eris get much, much closer.

A/n: There will likely only be a couple more chapters of this fic. For those of you concerned by the previous chapter, please continue to trust the process. Our girl is intelligent.

Part 4 Part 6

Warnings: Language, brief mention of fertility struggles

Our first date, the seasons changed. It got washed away in a summer rain

He wasn’t what I expected, Eris Vanserra. Not that I ever fathomed what to expect or even considered it. In fact there was only a very short list of things I knew prior to the day we met:

-He was a High Lord.

-He’d been a secretive ally of the Night Court prior to his father’s demise.

-Azriel fucking hated him.

And after that day I knew everything I needed to:

-He was warm beyond the fire in his veins

-He was a just ruler

-He had a dry wit that sat well with my soul.

-I wanted to see him again.

After dancing that night, we ran back to Tarquin’s palace in the rain. It was the first time I’d been unable to contain my joy in far too long. I laughed, and skipped, and spun in circles the whole way back. Eris grumbled the entire way but I could see the amusement lit in his eyes. The next morning he met me for breakfast and found me again before he left for the Autumn Court.

He began finding reasons to visit the Summer Court more frequently and sought me out every time. It was no time before Eris became a close friend.

Tarquin - ever the cheeky, wonderful bastard - only gave me knowing smiles when he’d catch us walking the palace grounds. According to Cresseida, The High Lord of the Summer Court was quite the romantic and had a knack for playing matchmaker. I was inclined to agree considering that after a month of spotting Eris and I around the grounds, Tarquin made a proposition to me. I could still teach my classes but he needed a temporary emissary to the Autumn court as they negotiated border, trade, and tariff agreements. Given my recent closeness with the High Lord of Autumn and overall wonderful (debatable) disposition, he found me to be the perfect candidate. With that, I found myself on official court business in the Autumn Court.

Who cares if you’re all I think about?

I was nervous on the first visit to Autumn. I knew things were different under Eris’ reign but the stories of Beron’s cruelty within his own keep were enough to warrant a bit of caution.

My worries were quickly cast aside when Eris personally escorted me from the border and to his keep. The Autumn Court was stunning. The leaves on the trees were brighter than I’d ever seen. The hues ranging from gold to red absolutely stunning. I’d love to have Feyre one day paint it for me.

Smells of roasting chestnuts, hickory smoke, crisp leaves, apple cider, and autumn air filled my nose. On the way, Eris stopped by a small farm where the owner allowed us to pick what Eris called the finest Honeycrisp apples in all of Prythian. I’d never had that variety before and though I had nothing to compare them against, the apples had the perfect crunch and just the right ratio of tart and sweet. He paid the farmer handsomely for a bucket of them and several pie pumpkins for his kitchens.

The Autumn Keep was far from the drab stone castle that I’d pictured. Eris clearly went to great strides to ensure the ghost of Beron Vanserra had no hold here. The grand rooms were filled with maple accents, rugs and tapestries with hues greens, golds, oranges and reds. Fires roared in massive fireplaces and autumnal spices filled the air.

And despite the beauty of the keep. I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off of the tall, handsome redhead walking alongside me.

Once I was settled for the stay, we did meet to discuss political matters which took countless hours, but I was rather impressed with the ease of our negotiations. He and Tarquin had similar visions for the economic future within their courts.

We enjoyed dinner together, indulged in autumnal wines, including a hot mulled wine that flushed my cheeks. Or so I told Eris that was the reason for the blush on my features, and certainly not the way way he’d refer to me as “my lady” or “little fox.”

We’d stayed up late, sitting by a bon fire outside beneath the Autumn Skies. There was music and dancing, spiked ciders, and caramel apples. I could see why Eris loves his court.

We, of course, kept respectful distance from eachother as not to spark any gossip of anything more than friendship between he and I. Yet somehow, hours later, we found ourselves in a private courtyard - a small fire burning as we lay back on a blanket together. I began to shiver as the evening chill grew cooler. As I went to bid Eris goodnight and head for the warmth within Castle Walls, he halted me.

“Come here” he spoke. His voice low.

I scooted a bit closer.

“Come closer, little fox. I won’t bite.”

He refrained from adding “unless you ask me to” but that was readable enough in his heavy lidded gaze.

So I laid beside him, my head nestled between his chest and shoulder as his heat warmed my body. I showed him various constellations that I’d learned of during my time in the Night Court and he did a terrible job of visualizing them. He tried though. He told me how he used to wish on shooting stars, how he still found himself occasionally wishing upon them. I teared up when he told me of the wishes he’d made back then for his mother and Lucien, for himself, to one day escape Beron’s cruelty. For a better life. A better Court.

When we saw a shooting star later, he made a wish and told me it was bad luck to tell someone else the wish.

And I, despite everything that had turned upside down in life, found myself struggling to ask for anything more than what I had in that moment.

When we finally said goodnight I realized his own suite was right next to the one he had set me up in.

I woke in a sweat sometime hours before dawn. Pain ripping through my chest. Azriel once again pulling on the fucking bond with no regard for the feelings of despair he was shoving to me. This time was worse than usual, the waves of grief continuing to grow stronger and stronger all the time. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t deserve this. This was a bed of his own making and yet I still had to suffer beyond what I’d already been through. Sleeping through it was futile and the room’s darkness began to suffocate me.

I padded from my room to a common area outside of the suites, sat before the fireplace and worked on breathing through it.

Though I tried my best to remain quiet, Eris apparently had a sharp sense of hearing as he wandered into the room, seating himself on the floor beside me. If I hadn’t been in such a sorry state, perhaps I would have noticed the low slung gray sweatpants and broad muscled chest of the half-naked High Lord- no, friend - beside me.

He took my hand. “Hey, fox, look at me.” I lifted my gaze to his. “You’ve got this. Breathe for me.” I took a shallow breath. “Can you breathe deeper for me, little one?” He placed a hand on my shoulder while the other remained on my hand. I took a deeper breath and let it out slowly.

“Good girl.”

Eris sat with me in silence on a plush couch once my breathing steadied. Still too worked up to fall back asleep, I nestled myself against Eris’ chest while his fingers ran through my hair in soothing, repetitive strokes.

It was hours later that I awoke, finding that I’d fallen asleep on him. I tried shifting away slowly but a sleeping Eris only held his arm around me tighter as I pulled. We slept like that a while longer.

The rest of the trip went by uneventfully. We discussed further trade options and Eris spent the evenings working with me on how to close off the bond to Azriel’s feelings. While I was already excellent at shutting down sending my feelings down the bond, cutting off his feelings was what I needed help with. By the end of the stay I could only feel his emotions slightly.

I expressed my gratitude to Eris who only waived off my thanks. “Anyone would have done it.” Yet he was the only one who tried. What I didn’t tell Eris was that as Azriel’s end of the bond silenced and the depths of my soul went from overflowing to filled with contentment, my thoughts began drifting to happier things, drifted to him.

Front porch and one more kiss. It doesn't make sense to anybody else.

The fifth month after I left, my grandparents held an outdoor feast for our family and friends in celebration of a holiday of one of the lesser Summer gods they worshipped.

It was far from a religious event. There was always wine, dancing, and lively conversation at these celebrations with none of the boring sermons that typically came with such events.

I invited Eris, and to my delight he came. My drunken sister made plenty of comments over how pretty of a pair of “friends” we made, with overemphasis on the word. My sweet, protective nephew took to Eris right away, deciding that after what Azriel put me through, anyone was better than him. He had no tolerance for cheating or sympathy for adulterers from the time he was old enough to understand what it meant and that his father had cheated on my sister during her pregnancy (real stand up guy) though my sister was so far out of his league that he’d have to reach the stars to find someone better. Obviously she’d left him immediately and she and my nephew were better off for it.

My family tried their best and failed miserably to act normal with the High Lord of the Autumn Court in their presence. Fortunately, Eris paid no mind and had won everyone over by the end of the night.

Despite his aversion to the sand, Eris accepted my invitation to camp on the beach so we could enjoy my favorite part of the night, the fireworks shooting off over the bay.

As the finale approached, I pouted.

“I hate when they end.”

Gesturing toward himself, Eris replied. “It’s a good thing you have a High Lord at your disposal to light up the night any time you wish.”

Before I could reprimand him for the crude comment, he began shooting small orbs of fire toward the water in a rainbow of colors.

My eyes sparkled watching the vibrant flares. Soon enough the orbs into butterflies of fire flying through the air, some circling around me. One brushed my cheek and there was no pain, just a gentle flutter.

“That’s… Just wow, that’s incredible, Eris!”

He gave a shrug of nonchalance in return.

“I bet you do that for all the ladies, don’t you?”

Eris looked me in the eyes, something unreadable in them.

“Only the ones I want to kiss.”

A moment passed before I realized that he was entirely serious.

And that I WANTED to kiss him.

So I did.

We kissed under the stars. It was a hard, passionate kiss, our shared breaths riddled with desperation, a profession of the unspoken words between us, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

And when we eventually pulled apart, I looked into his eyes with a smile, genuine, full of adoration, and Eris gently grasped the back of my head, pulling me into another searing kiss.

We shared many more before dawn.

You can’t undo a fall like this.

When Eris returned to the Autumn Court, I tried feeling any remorse for what we’d done. I was technically still a mated female, though I’d left and due to Azriel’s infidelity nobody expected me to honor the bond.

The guilt never came.

Eris had to travel so I wasn’t able to see him for the next couple weeks but we wrote back and forth often through enchanted notes. Curiosity or concern must have gotten the best of him because eventually he asked:

“Do you regret it?”

I knew exactly what he referred to.

“I regret many things, Eris. None of which pertain to you.”

I sent the letter to him with confidence. I did not regret a single thing about the night our lips collided on the beach.

“Thank the Mother, because I need to kiss you again.”

Heat radiated through me at his admission.

But then reality struck. He was the High Lord of the Autumn Court. I was the - separated, yes, but still - the mate of the Night Court’s Spymaster.

“Eris, I love spending time with you and will never regret it. You’ve helped me heal in ways I will never be able to repay you for. But this… how can this work? It’s messy.”

I sent the letter. My own heart crushing at the words. I didn’t want this to end but I couldn’t risk it going further just for reality to come crashing down on us.

Some time passed, the unease in my gut growing when his response appeared.

“If I wanted easy, I’d have married the daughter of some Autumn Lord. Nothing about my past has been easy and despite what some may believe, nothing worth having has come easily to me. Every second spent with you is worth it. Do not, Y/N, doubt that for one single moment. And perhaps this is crazy, but I would not want it any other way.”

It was that moment that I knew I wanted, I needed Eris as more than a friend.

“Then let’s be crazy, Eris Vanserra.”

I don't want "good" and I don't want "good enough"

The thing about immortality is that six months can bring more change than six decades or even centuries.

Six months ago I would have never dreamed that my mate would take the life we’d built over the years and tear it into shreds with those once sacred, beautiful scarred hands that I held reverently. The hands that placed the lovely mating band crafted from one of his own siphons on my finger after he’d made his vows, the hands that lovingly caressed my bare thighs through restless nights until sleep took me, hands that held me pressed to his chest and wiped away the tears of grief after yet another failed fertility cycle.

Those hands that held another and damned it all, the hands that came home and stroked my hair as pretty lies fell from his mouth, the hands that took my glass heart and dropped it.

I especially wouldn’t have dreamed that six months later I would be laying in the bed of the High Lord of the Autumn Court with his strong, warm hands holding me like this heart of mine that he’d forged anew was the most delicate, precious possession in his keep.

I want "can't sleep, can't breathe without your love"

We’d spent the night together making love. The kind of love making that shifts something intrinsic within a person, the type where no matter what happens, a piece of you is forever changed. It was more than just giving my body to him, it was a claiming of the soul.

We lay in bed all morning, his long fingers tracing along the arch of my bare back as he pressed soft kisses along my shoulder and neck. Between kisses, his low voice whispered quiet hopes and dreams for the future.

I was just about to speak those three words that I’d only ever spoken to one other male when a loud knock came on the chamber door.

“For fuck’s sake” Eris muttered before shouting “Come back later!”

“We apologize, High Lord but this is urgent.” a muffled male voice replied through the closed door.

Eris growled, shifting out of bed and throwing on his sweatpants not bothering with a shirt. I enjoyed the view.

“This better be worth my while, lads.” Eris hissed in a tone that conveyed “I’m very fucking inconvenienced right now but understand that you are doing your duty as my sentries.”

“Apologies again, High Lord, but we’ve….”

The male outside the door cleared his throat in attempt to communicate that the matter should be discussed privately.

“It’s fine.” Eris grumbled. “Just get on with it.”

“We, well, High Lord, we’ve apprehended the Shadowsinger. He was making an attempt to infiltrate the keep.”

———————————

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious

[loneliestluvr]

𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 — 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2

part 1. part 2.

pairing: eris vanserra x archeron oc

synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

warnings: should have added this in the last one but talking/thinking about loss of pregnancy, being controlled + used, angst, lots of description but Blair gets her lick back a bit 😛 this is also a bit of a slow burn

word count: 2.8k

taryn thinks: so this is gonna be a series and im just kinda holding its hand and letting it guide me rn, i have no planned ending at all or any idea where this is going. bear with me pookies and remember how attracted Feyre was to Rhys without knowing he was her mate please and thank you 🙏🏼

“Eris,” Rhysand’s voice boomed in that firm High Lord tone he only ever used outside of the River House— Blair had only ever heard it once and not ever directed at her. It was that same day and argument Nesta had told Feyre about the threat to her life, to the babe’s life in her womb, when Rhys’ power had exploded and grew so loud and angry Blair had covered her ears and closed her eyes.

Eris. The name rung in her head as her brother-in-law spoke it and her mouth moved before she could think as she tested it silently on her own tongue. Eris.

The second eldest Archeron still hadn’t brought herself to tear her gaze from the male—Eris—before her, taking in every inch of his face. Every muscle ticking in his jaw. Eris’s eyes followed her mouth as she traced his name with her lips and then he finally looked away. As if he couldn’t handle looking another minute.

“This is Feyre’s second oldest sister, Blair.” Rhys continued, and something like panic lit his every word. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

But it was almost muffled— the sound of his voice, the music and chatter behind them. Blair’s hands still neatly folded in front of her as she stood there, like there was nothing else in that marble room but her and Eris.

“Divine.” The red haired male murmured and by the way Rhys’ brows shot up just slightly, Blair figured the male wasn’t ever one for so little words.

The sound of his voice washed through her, the heat of her skin only intensifying as it echoed through her ears. She could hear her blood thrumming through her with it, like just this nearness had her body boiling. A sense she couldn’t describe pulling to him.

“Likewise.” The word was out before she could control it, like her inhibitions overtook all.

What is it that you feel, bright one? A cold, unnatural, and otherworldly voice spoke in her head. The same as always when the smoke cleared. Feminine, if Blair could tell— speaking to her as she was sucked back out of her body and it swallowed whatever words were working up her throat. Pulled right back into that unintentional irreverence. You do feel it, I can tell. Pushing me back, for this? For him— for what lurks under?

“I’m sorry for my tardiness,” Blair said, voice vacant. It was some part of their plan, but Blair had been instructed to follow along. Some quiet tucked away part of her, far in the forest of her mind, began to piece information together.

Things she’d learned simply by sitting and listening, and nobody cared about talking in front of the mute immortal who would sooner die than participate in politics or anything relating to the fae realm.

At least that’s what she thought of herself, nobody would say it. Even if that’s what she knew they were thinking. Even if it wasn’t entirely true.

Blair listened, mindlessly and absently, but what else was she to do when she sat in the quiet of her own mind day after day under something else’s control?

She tilled the soil of her mind, planting and working and tending as she sat and listened. Took in every piece of information that seemed so little to whatever she had become after, tucking it away and into her pocket.

But she never participated, couldn’t seem to ever make her mouth move. Could only sit and look out the window as everyone moved around her.

“Nonsense, sister.” Feyre smiled lovingly, the image of a shining star with the way her barely there gown accentuated her growing belly. “You’ve come just in time.”

As if on cue, a soft melodic music that sounded like the forest’s calm embrace started playing. Forest’s that Feyre and her had frequented in the summers when the younger of them was just hitting maturity, welcoming and lovely. Soft and slow, serene. A moment of peace in a world of pain and anger.

Blair took another breath and turned her head to the dance floor, it was her again this time as she spoke so softly it was almost unheard, “I love this type of music.”

“You’d like to know, Eris, that Blair is of the same talent our dear sister Nesta possesses. One that you seem so keen on having her hand in marriage because of.” Feyre says, but Blair’s eyes remain glued to the floor of people dancing so slowly. Seamless in their waltzing, her body almost began moving by itself— fighting every muscle in her to stay present in conversation as she slowed back into her body.

A rage filling some now faraway part of her, screaming and clawing and fighting to push her back again.

But this moment, this day, had been the most lucid she had felt in over a year— like she was waking up and blinking the fog away. Blair could hear clearly, and think, she could see from her own eyes, she was herself then. She was her own.

The reveal of another Archeron sister was not something that Eris had anticipated for. Certainly not something he’d prepared for, he had never let himself become so raw in front of anyone, let alone those of the Night Court.

One look at her… one gaze into those amber flecked eyes and his entire mask had shattered. For a minute too long he had just… stared at her.

Blair. The name danced around in his head, he could see it scripted on pages with a light hand. Those delicate fingers dragging the quill into a mess of curls and lines, her beautiful name printed in his mind. Blair.

“I’m almost certain at this point only beauty comes of your family, if Nesta was that graceful on the floor I can only imagine any of her sisters being equally as talented.” He said without another second, gaze now fixed wholly on the High Lady of the Night Court despite the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“Nesta continues to be… occupied.” Feyre added, almost ignoring any of his ploying compliments and Eris didn’t miss the whites of Rhysand’s knuckles showing as he clutched the arms of his throne.

And it was true, the Illyrian brute that had swept away his hopeful bride had passed her to the aggravating shadowsinger. Eris would not get her back again, not tonight.

“Perhaps my sister Blair would like to join you in a dance or two?” Feyre said next, the question directed for the female next to him.

Something in his chest felt like it would cave in and Eris thought he could have been floating just being next to her. The soft brown of her hair that went almost to her waist, even with it half up in a mound on the back of her head.

Accentuating those beautiful features under the light, lips pronounced and eyes that guttered all the need for dominance from his soul. His mind screamed: Kneel, kneel before your queen and beg to touch her. To smell and taste and feel, to know.

“Blair?” Feyre’s voice rang through his ears again and Blair had seemed like she was so enamored by the music, by the need to be with it, she hadn’t heard the question her sister asked. Then her head turned back to the thrones on the dais.

“I’m sorry,” She said quickly, furrowing her brow slightly as she tuned back in. “—what was it?”

“Perhaps you would like to join Eris for a dance?” Feyre clarified again and she looked from her sister to him, nearly next to Eris and stared for a moment.

“It’d be my honor to dance with the son of a High Lord.” She said, a small smile blooming on her lips.

By the confusion that seemed to broadcast on the High Lord and Lady’s face, Eris figured that Blair Archeron had secrets of her own. That just maybe, like him, she was undermined and looked over in aspects she shouldn’t be.

Eris stepped closer and offered his arm almost mindlessly, eyes tracing every curve of this smart and quick creature’s face. And Blair took it as that song faded out and the crowd prepared for the next one, the cold of her fingers seeped through the fabric of his tunic sleeve. Icy and bitter despite the warmth that flourished on her cheeks, and she let Eris guide her to the floor.

Blair could breathe. She could feel the race of her pulse, however immortal, she could feel the air on her skin and the warmth beneath Eris’s sleeve as she touched him. It felt like her body was on fire— awake.

Eris Vanserra— High Lord of the Autumn Courts eldest son, she had remembered. It had been like a splash of warm water, it had felt good. Different.

Rhys and Feyre’s ramblings about him, about their trades and need to stand against his father. Their effort to sway him should war find Prythian again, Azriel’s updates as she sat in the living room. Absent.

But that fog had cleared, and here she was. Preparing to dance with him. And everything came back screaming.

It was quiet as they prepared for the song to begin, Nesta and Azriel on the other end of the marble floor.

And then the music began and Eris arm wrapped around Blair until his hand laid on the small of her back, fingers of one hand each entwined as they stared into each others eyes.

It wasn’t that Blair couldn’t think or feel it, but her body moved absently off of memory alone as the dance began. Graceful and smooth, gliding as Eris guided her through the movements.

Spinning and twirling and whirling, she could only look at him as they moved. They did not speak, just danced and eyed each other.

Something charged went through the air between them, the close proximity of their bodies, and Blair wanted to know it as equally as Eris. Wanted to welcome it.

He smelled of spruce and warm honey, mahogany and citrus, flames and burning coals. Blair swallowed it down, drank it in and almost closed her eyes from how strong it was.

The pads of his fingers were rough, felt scarred as they held the small of her back and her own soft fingers. The freckles on his skin were similar to hers but brighter, a hue of ginger rather than her umber shaded spots.

And where he touched, across her waist and now one of her hips, burned.

The feeling like a fire, warm and welcoming and home, spilling into her veins like hot oil. And then Eris was dipping her, their faces a mere inch apart and Blair’s lips parted in a breathy gasp.

His eyes watching those perfect lips, trained on them as they stood like that. Dipped over and under one another, Blair’s leg hooked over his hip like she would fall.

But something in those pointed eyes, cunning and lethal, told her he would never let her go.

“Where have they kept you?” Eris asked finally, and brought her back up to a stand as they began again.

“A female is nothing to be kept.” Blair responded as easily as their dancing continued. Reminding herself of the proper terms fae used. “I have heard of how backwards Autumn can be, though. Perhaps that is your way of thinking?”

“You were not there for the war.” It was not the statement he made it, a rephrase of his first question. And he did not scold her for the jab she shouldn’t have made, supposed to be swaying and wooing but instead bit at him like a ravenous dog. “Nobody talked of a fourth sister.”

“I hadn’t realized I owed my life to the Court’s of Prythian or it’s people.” His hands left her body and trailed to the tips of her fingers as she spun out and when she returned his hold was firmer but he smiled, wicked and beautiful. “What?”

That look in his eyes, she couldn’t place it. And her voice held more venom than she intended, despite how soft and sweet it may have sounded aloud.

“You intrigue me, Blair Archeron.” He said and pushed her out again, her dress spinning out at the bottom as she twirled and came back to him. Pressed against his chest, one hand on the back of his neck and he might have shivered. “Trust the most beautiful of your sisters to be the smartest.”

“We’ve shared mere words, what are you basing my intelligence off of?”

“A feeling.”

“A feeling?” She repeated. He nodded and then she was keenly aware of where his hands were, trailing to the base of her own neck— close enough to be courting. More than that.

“Tell me,” Eris started, beginning a box step procedural that she followed. “—have they tucked you away out of fear of what you could become, or fear of what they could lose?”

“Who’s to say I’m not the one who chooses to stay away?” Eris’s eyes glittered with a need to know, like he wanted into her mind to see all of that intrinsic astuteness shrouded by firs and spruce. “Who’s to say I wanted to be a part of this life at all?”

“I offered to give them armies in exchange for your sisters hand and they bring you in.” He states as the song comes to an end and another starts. A rapid tempo, fast and harsh. Mostly string instruments, dramatic. “Why?”

“I was late,” Blair corrects, one hand holding the back of his neck as the other is gripped in his. Larger, muscled, and firmer than Blair’s delicate, soft, and teasing hand. “—you must be a terrible listener.”

Amusement lit Eris’s eyes as he held an arm around her waist, fingers brushing her ribs.

“Did they keep you away because of your mouth, then?” He crooned, their bodies moving seamlessly to the upbeat music. Stepping and spinning all at once, matched with the other pairs of dancers on the floor.

“What of my mouth?”

“What of it, indeed.” He smiled, eyes flicking to the rich ridges of her garnet colored lips. Blair’s cheeks heated and for the first time her eyes flicked away from his face. Anywhere but him as they landed on Azriel and she almost breathed in relief when she found that his eyes were already on hers.

A silent question in them and Blair blinked softly in response.

“Would you believe me if I said the second I saw you, I forgot about Nesta completely?” Eris whispered into her ear, lips brushing against the hair that curled there. So close she could feel the heat of his breath, like a flame licking her skin.

She cursed the part of her that wanted to feel that heat in other places and shoved it down. She looked back to Eris, noses nearly touching with the proximity this dance required.

“And what if I am already spoken for?”

Questions, so many questions with him. And Blair just fed them back as if the answers were in the questions themselves, a proper response unneeded.

“Are you?” His brows raised.

“No.”

It was simple, nothing further needed and she didn’t understand why she cared to tell a male she had met mere minutes ago that she was available. The first other than Rhys, Lucien, Azriel, Cassian and the blonde male she had set her eyes on since coming here. Since being forced here.

“They must do it to you all then.” Eris said, smile fading into a tighter one as he saw that look in Blair’s eyes. “Dwindle your flame, drown it out, waste you.”

“My sister and her mate have been gracious to me in my… adjustment. I have nothing to complain about, and certainly nothing to waste.”

Eris shook his head so barely as they spun Blair almost didn’t catch it, disbelief in every beautiful crook of his utterly handsome face.

“All of you is wasted, my dear Blair. They are blind if they cannot see what lives inside of you, your fire, whatever that power is and whatever you are now.”

Perhaps it was because Blair didn’t even know what was inside of her, why her chest warmed on its own for the first time in over a year just now, but she didn’t say another word.

When the music ended, she bowed before Eris as any graceful courtier would— a dismissal on her part before she stepped back and allowed for him to bow in return.

But he did not, and only stared at her as if he couldn’t—wouldn’t—bring himself to say goodbye. We are not done playing, Blair Archeron, was what his eyes added as Azriel swept her from the floor and the room all together.

His eyes followed her the whole way and that cold returned as soon as she left his line of sight.

🏷️: @prythianpages @impossibelle @readychilledwine

[yearning-for-autumn]

A Night At The Opera

Word Count: 1,579

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Smut, this is just smut really, daddy kink, public sex

A/N: This is based on a writing prompt I found a while back and have now lost, the prompt was "Are you hard? Here?" If anyone knows where this is from I would be so grateful, i'm going to go digging for it so I can tag the creator.

Feyre was the only one among all of you who truly enjoyed the opera’s in Velaris. Yet, you banded together every now and then to humour her, the joy and wonder on her face worth every second of confusion at what was supposed to be happening on stage.

Tonight it seemed to be a harrowing love story between a Half-Fae male and a High Fae princess, though the warbling chorus singing in a language long forgotten wasn’t really translating.

Rhys was slowly drifting off to sleep, his head resting on Feyre’s shoulder and his violet eyes drooping shut. A low murmur came from where Cassian and Nesta sat, with Nesta flicking through the program and frowning as they tried to decipher the plot. And Azriel, sitting beside you, was every so often shifting his weight from on leg to the other, subtly crossing them and keeping his hands clasped in his lap.

You furrowed your brow. “Az, what’s wrong?” You whispered, “You’re acting really restless tonight.”

He hummed in response, not answering your question. You leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “We can leave if you don’t like it, honey. I’m sure Feyre won’t mind.” You said quietly, willing to abandon the Opera if it meant getting to the bottom of your mates strange behaviour. He grimaced.

“She will,” He said, turning his head to speak quietly into your ear, “I’m fine, just keep watching.” His deep voice sent shivers through you, and you adjusted your position in your seat. Rhysand had you all seated in the royal box, allowing for ample room. Frowning, you sigh “It’s not that interesting.” You were now fully ignoring the commotion on stage. “I’d rather know what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.” He said through gritted teeth, “I’m fine. Can you please just sit back in your chair.”

You moved away from him with a huff, hurt. You subtly sniffed yourself, wondering if there was something wrong with the way you smelled. Was it your breath? You breathed into your hand, but all you could smell is the mint of your toothpaste. It was impossible to hide anything from Az, and with a roll of his eyes, he leaned closer to you over the armrest of the theatre chairs.

“Baby, you smell lovely, and you look lovely.” He assured you, “I’m just a bit uncomfortable. The chair’s too hard.”

“Rhys paid for the comfy seats.” You say, even more confused now. “Mine’s really cosy, do you want to switch?” You were becoming increasingly concerned. Azriel wasn’t usually one to complain, and he was definitely acting strange. Your mind raced with theory after theory, overthinking the things he had said until he put his face in one hand in frustration, pulling it away from where it had been resting on his upper thigh. As he lifted it, you saw what it had conveniently been hiding. Your eyes flickered up to his in disbelief.

“Are you hard? Here?” You asked incredulously, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes. Azriel groaned and looked up at you, ashamed.

“I’ve been hard since I saw you come down the stairs baby. You look so hot.” His tone bordered on whiny, and you bit back a laugh.

“We should definitely go.” You said, your mind drifting to images of Azriel winnowing you back to his apartment, pressing you sensually against the wall, plush lips finding the hollow of your neck and--

“Baby stop. Feyre will be so upset if we leave now.” His low voice startled you out of your fantasizing. You let out a small growl of frustration.

“She’s not even looking.” You argued.

“Didn’t Rhys get hard in the Birchin one time?”

“We’ll have to walk past Cass and Nesta. They won’t let me live it down.” Was his second excuse. You wrinkled your nose.

“Yes. And it’s prime teasing material. I don’t want to be beaten at my own game, baby.” He retorted. You sighed, sensing he wasn’t going to give in easily, despite his predicament. It was surprising he’d stayed at attention this whole time, it seemed you weren’t the only one lost in your fantasies tonight. A small smile grew on your face as you turned slowly to look at him. You trailed a manicured hand down his thigh, delighting in the fluttering of the muscle underneath.

“Then there’s only one way to fix this, honey.” You said, voice low and teasing. Azriel’s eyes flickered up to you in surprise.

“What are you doing, princess?” And fuck if that wasn’t his husky bedroom voice that turned your core molten. You bit your lip, and your hands found the large bulge in his dress pants, squeezing lightly.

The performers on stage had begun a crooning number, the ridiculous costumes reflecting the fae-lights off every surface. Your hand started to stroke up and down his clothed shaft, feeling its thick length throb and pulse with every movement. It was a teasing pace, barely enough for Azriel to feel the warmth of your grip. Positioning yourself, you leant in close, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to the column of his neck.

“Playing.” You whispered. He let out a shuddering breath.

“Princess,” His voice was a warning growl, “If you want to play, then you had better play properly.”

You couldn’t fight the shiver that ran down your spine.

“I can’t take you out here, Daddy,” You bit your lip as you pulled out the pet-name sure to make his resolve weaken, “people will see.”

“Fuck.” He ground out, “I need more than what you’re giving me, love. Just...go a bit harder.”

You giggled, trying to hush your voice.

“Are you begging me?” You teased. He snarled, nipping your earlobe, his hot breath searing your sensitive skin.

“Remember, Kitten. I can easily take you home and punish you after this.” Cauldron, your pussy was dripping. Azriel’s tongue licked a burning stripe up your neck, your pulse fluttering under your skin. You whimpered.

“Sorry Daddy.” You soothed with a pout. Azriel gave you a small smile and turned to kiss you properly, his tongue swirling around yours, dominating your mouth easily. Your eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy. Kissing Azriel was your strongest vice. It was so easy to get lost in him. He pulled back, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention your way, Rhys and Feyre were a row in front, but Nesta and Cassian were only a few chairs down from you, and though there was plenty of space between your chairs, they felt tantalisingly close.

You resumed your loving attention to his cock, still rock hard under your touch. From Azriel’s gritted teeth it was clearly becoming painful. Your hand sped up, squeezing hard at the tip to replace your usual twist that was impossible with the frankly offensive layer of clothing between your skin and his. You wanted to feel him, the heat of it, the taste. When you got home you swore you were going to suck him dry.

“Fuck, fuck. You’re so good baby. Such a good girl for me.”

“Is it good, Daddy?” You ask, your feigned innocence only turning him on more. You felt his cock give a painful throb beneath your touch and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Mhm, lower your hand a bit, yeah, that’s it, yeah.” He groaned as you trailed your hand down and squeezed his balls roughly. You grinned. Azriel loved having his balls played with. You alternated between squeezing and stroking, ocassionally pressing down hard with the heel of your palm. This earned you a whimper, causing anther gush of slick between your legs.

“Baby, Kitten, fuck I’m done for if you keep that up.” He groaned through gritted teeth, the only time in his life where he struggled to keep quiet. You giggled, not letting up until he was thoroughly satisfied.

“Cum for me, Azriel.” You demanded, licking the shell of his ear.

Azriel came with a shuddering gasp and a wet feeling against your palm. You rubbed him through it, milking him dry as his pants grew sodden. Around you, the opera had reached it’s final chorus, Azriel breathing hard as you lay your head on his shoulder. You felt a little self-conscious now it was all said and done, and your gaze darted about to check no one was watching.

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

Azriel huffed a laugh, “I’ll treat you when we get home, love.” He said, trailing promising kisses down your neck. You pushed him away gently with a soft laugh.

“Will you eat my pussy, Daddy?” You asked teasingly.

“If you ask nicely.” He said, though you both knew it took no encouragement to get him on his knees, licking you to completion.

You glanced around at your friends. Rhys was now fully asleep on Feyre’s shoulder and Cassian was fiddling with Nesta’s hair, who was staring at the stage in puzzlement. None of them seemed to have noticed your activities.

As you left the theatre, Azriel’s shadows swirled around his waist, conveniently covering the damp stain of his cum. He grimaced as he walked with the cooling mess against his now soft dick. Cassian bumped your shoulder as he walked past, and he grabbed your hand to pull you closer to him.

“You do know we were sitting right next to you, Kitten.” You flushed scarlet, and Cassian’s booming laughter drowned out any of Feyre’s excited chatter about how good the opera had been. If only the rest of you had been watching.

A/N: This is my first ACOTAR fanfic ever! Feedback is appreciated but please be nice, i'm sensitive. I hope you liked it!

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny III

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: none

a/n: hope you enjoy this one just as much as the others!

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

Part III

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

“That was…weird,” Mor remarked.

You agreed. You had no idea what to make of Eris’s behavior. Feyre and Rhys seemed to be locked in a mental conversation, leaving the rest of you to silence. You rubbed at your arm, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. You didn’t want to create any problems for your sister but you also didn’t want to leave. 

“He had a point,” Rhys finally said before looking at you with those violet eyes that reminded you far too much of a certain pair of amber ones. They both held too many secrets. “But I don’t think Beron will prove to be much of a problem as long as we keep his focus on other things.”

Feyre nodded along. “Besides, what is Beron going to do about it, anyways? Short of killing us, there is nothing to be done.”

You felt a flicker of fear but pushed it down. Rhys was the most powerful High Lord. Surely he would defend you and your sister if it came down to it. Feyre was also powerful in her own right and could fight for herself but you…

“We won’t let any harm come to you,” Rhys promised, his voice softening. “And what did I say about keeping those mental shields up?”

You turned red and quickly slammed the gates to your mind closed. 

“I would like to stay,” you mumbled, sheepishly. “But I don’t want to cause problems.”

Mor waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. Eris talks out of his ass most of the time. He probably just wanted to put us on edge. You being here is not a problem, doll.” 

You didn’t feel comforted in the slightest.

“Well, if that's settled,” Rhys said, standing up. “I believe it is time for us to make our way towards the meeting room.”

You let out a breath, trying to settle your nerves from Eris’s display. Feyre gave you a small smile, linking her arm through yours. “Don’t look so nervous. There’s going to be some friendly faces in the crowd.”

You nodded, still feeling anxious about the whole thing. Although you hardly considered Vassa and Jurian your friends, at least you were familiar with them. Unfortunately, you were also familiar enough with Lord Nolan and his son.

Feyre placed her other hand in Rhys’s extended elbow and the two of them led you out of the chambers and into the wide corridor. Your breaths were still shaky once your group got to the staircase that would lead you to the meeting room with the reflection pool. 

Feyre unwrapped her arm from yours and Azriel stepped forward instead. 

“Azriel is going to escort you in,” she explained. “If you feel nervous, just stay by his side. Okay?”

You gave her a small nod and let them lead the way forward. When your group finally reached the top of the staircase, you were a bit relieved to see that the Autumn Court wasn’t present yet. Your eyes darted around the room, landing on all the various High Lords and their entourages, trying to place them in their respective courts. 

“That right there is Tarquin,” Azriel whispered from beside you, following your eyesight. “High Lord of Summer.” 

“And him?”

“Kallias, High Lord of Winter. His wife and mate, Vivianne, is the female next to him.” 

“Another High Lady?”

“Not quite,” Azriel answered. He inclined his head towards a different group. “That’s Helion, High Lord of the Day Court.” 

The male he nodded to was quickly approaching your group, a serpentine smile on his face. Gods, you were still not quite used to how beautiful the fae were. Helion looked like a God in his own right. His eyes passed over your group until they landed on you and lingered for a second longer. 

You watched as he greeted Feyre, Rhysand and Mor before turning his head towards you and Azriel. 

“Shadowsinger,” he nearly purred, “Always happy to see you.”

Azriel didn’t smile, didn’t move. In fact, he shot the High Lord an exasperated look as if this flirtatious behavior was all too common. That didn’t stop you from blushing when the High Lord looked at you and smiled coyly. 

“And who might you be?”

He reached out a hand but before you could open your mouth, the High Lord was suddenly knocked to the side, stumbling over himself. 

“My apologies, High Lord,” Eris sneered at Helion. “Perhaps you shouldn’t stand in the middle of a walkway.” 

Eris strode away before Helion could even respond, his brothers trailing after him, glaring around the room. Your jaw nearly dropped at his audacity but you quickly schooled your face, watching Helion glare at their backs. He seemed to shake off the encounter quickly, his charming persona snapping back into place as your sister came up on your side.

“Helion,” she said, “this is my sister, Y/n. She’s here to help us discuss the peace treaty with the humans.” 

Your introduction with Helion was short lived as Thesan called for the start of the meeting now that everyone was here. The first half of the meeting was just with the fae before the human leaders were to be brought in. Since you were primarily there for the humans, your thoughts drifted away as the fae leaders began their discussions. 

Your eyes trailed over all the courts—taking interest in how different each fae looked depending on where they came from. But your gaze kept falling on one fae in particular. The red headed male sat behind his daunting father. He hadn’t once looked in your direction. Part of you was glad for it, because it would be embarrassing to be caught blatantly staring at him as you were. Another part of you longed for him to look your way… You had no idea where that feeling came from. 

Eris was dressed far more formally than he had been the last two times you had seen him. He wore a dark green vest stitched with golden thread, tiny leaves embroidered along the seams, on top of a cream button up. A golden fox brooch was pinned at the neck of his collar, probably the Vanserra family’s emblem. His pants were an even darker green, almost appearing black and neatly tucked into his boots. Around his shoulders was a matching green cape coat embellished in gold detailing much like his vest. 

His red hair looked like a raging fire next to all the green, his pale skin glistening in the soft lighting of the room. He was so distractingly beautiful, even with that familiar haughty smirk on his face. It didn’t matter that there were far more powerful, commanding fae in the room. Your eyes could not keep off him. 

Like a moth to flame. 

Eris’s honey amber eyes finally met yours and you felt something snapped inside of you. You gasped as a golden thread unraveled within you and shot out across the room—all the way to the male seated across from you….all the way to Eris. 

Mate.

The word clanged through your head, drowning all other thoughts.

Mate.

Eris was your mate. 

In your shock, you missed the warning look Eris shot your way. You gasped, loudly, drawing the attention of the room as you stood so suddenly, your chair was knocked to the ground behind you. Your heart was pounding in your chest, that golden thread thrumming with sparks of flame.

Your sister quickly rose from her seat, placing a hand on your upper arm to steady you. Azriel too had jumped up, his hand ghosting over Truth-teller, as if ready for whatever invisible threat was occuring.

Eris stood abruptly, almost panting. Your eyes never left those amber ones. Not even as they seemed to plead with you to sit, to hide, to disappear from this room entirely. 

“What’s wrong?” Feyre asked, her voice hurried and filled with concern. Her eyes followed your line of sight and darted back to you and down to the hand you held to your chest. 

Rhysand seemed to catch on to what was happening quicker. 

“Azriel, get her out of here,” he ordered the shadowsinger. 

A scarred hand wrapped around yours and a second later, you were engulfed in a wave of shadows.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

“Rhysand,” Thesan said, “Please answer for that display. What antics have occurred in your court to disrupt such a meeting?” 

Feyre’s hands were shaking as Rhysand latched onto them, guiding her back to her chair softly. “Apologies, Y/n is still a bit sensitive to magic since coming out of the cauldron. You’ll have to forgive her sudden departure.” 

“And here I thought you had moved on from your lying and deceiving ways, Rhysand,” Beron jumped in, his voice filled with wicked amusement. “It appears a congratulation is in order.” He turned to face his son. “It seems to me that a mating bond has just snapped into place.” 

Eris’s face was unreadable as he sat back down, fists clenched at his sides. 

“Explain yourselves,” Tarquin interjected, looking bemused. “How do you have another Made female in your court, Rhysand?”

“She is my sister,” Feyre declared. “And she was there the day Hybern forced all of them into the cauldron.”

“Why was she not included in the reports from that day?” Thesan asked, sitting up straighter.

“She was under our protection,” Rhysand answered. “She was hardly more than a child at the time.” 

“Liar. She never came out of the cauldron,” Tamlin said, sharply, eyes narrowing. “Your reports never included her because she never came out of the cauldron that day.”

“Well, considering you all just saw her alive and in person,” Rhysand shrugged, picking a piece of lint from his coat. “Obviously, she did. Perhaps your head was too far up Hybern’s ass to see.”

Tamlin growled but was cut off by Beron. 

“Where have you taken my son’s mate?” Beron demanded. 

“That is none of your concern.”

“Rhysand, you cannot possibly keep her away from her mate,” Thesan said. “He is entitled—”

“He is entitled to nothing,” Feyre snapped. “The Night Court does not force females to accept mating bonds. As she falls under our jurisdiction, she has our full protection against any of your antiquated beliefs.” 

“Leave it to the Night Court to spit on traditions,” Beron hissed. “A mating bond works both ways. As the other half falls under my jurisdiction, my son has all the right to invoke a blood duel if you wish to keep her from him.” 

The Lady of Autumn looked alarmed at her husband’s words but said nothing. Neither did Eris, who seemed to be choosing his next moves very carefully. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time the Night Court stole a female away,” Tamlin said, sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh please, spare us from revisiting your despair,” Helion chuckled, humorlessly. 

“Have we all forgotten why we are here today?” Kallias cut in, his tone cold. “Must we argue over something that does not involve the rest of our courts? This meeting has already been derailed and some of us have better things to do with our time then listen to squabbles.” 

“This is not over, Rhysand,” Beron hissed. Eris still sat stoically behind his father, not faltering in the slightest. “You and I have much to discuss after we deal with the humans lest you wish to start a conflict between our courts.” 

“Fine,” Rhysand growled. “But prepare yourself and your son for disappointment.” 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You paced in the sitting room in the River House, your heart still beating rapidly, your thoughts out of control. A mating bond. A godsdamn mating bond had snapped between you and Eris of all people. Eris, the male whose reputation followed him like darkened clouds. Eris, the male who had left Mor to die in the woods all those years ago. Eris, the Heir of Autumn, the son of one of the most ruthless fae in all of Prythian. 

Surely it was a mistake. It had to be. 

“Why don’t you sit down?” Elain suggested, gently, patting the cushion beside her on the couch. “Feyre will get it all sorted out. You needn’t worry so much.” 

“How can I not worry? How can I not worry when Eris of all people is my mate, Elain?” You rubbed at your chest, already feeling an emptiness there now that you had been separated from him. “This must be a mistake. A trick, perhaps?” 

“Perhaps,” Elain agreed, though she didn’t sound like she believed it for one second. “But there’s not much you can do about it now. Not until they return from the meeting.” 

You let out a long breath and plopped onto the couch next to her. Elain brushed a hand through your hair, guiding you to lay down on her lap. “It’ll be okay, Y/n. A mating bond isn’t the end of all things. Feyre would never let that male get his hands on you.” 

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Some part of you wanted that male. Not the Eris that the others saw. But the one you had seen in those secret moments between the two of you. The alluring fox behind the mask. 

Your heart sang for him now that the mating bond had snapped into place. He hadn’t seemed surprised in the slightest….like he had already known about it. Had it snapped for him? Had he known this whole time that you were his mate? Why wouldn’t he tell you? Maybe…

maybe he didn’t want you…

Hours went by. The whole night passed. You didn’t stray from the couch, neither did Elain. You appreciated your sister comforting you. You wished Nesta wasn’t on her mating vacation and was here to help you as well…maybe she would know what to do.

The door to the house opening had you sitting up, rubbing at your red rimmed eyes. Elain woke abruptly as well, wiping the drool that was dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Feyre, Rhysand and Mor strode in, all looking just as exhausted as you.

“Well, I’m glad that shitshow is over,” Mor said, falling on one of the settees dramatically. 

A second later, Amren and Azriel came into the room, both wearing unreadable expressions. Amren’s silver eyes studied you for a moment before moving to Feyre and Rhysand.

“How’d it go?”

“Awful,” Rhysand sighed. “No one could come to an agreement.”

“Did the humans not want to sign?” You asked, purposefully avoiding the other topic. 

Feyre shook her head. “No, they were…even less receptive than we thought they’d be.” 

“What happens now?” Elain asked.

“We go through that again and again, I suppose,” Rhys answered. “Until a peace treaty is signed.” 

The room fell into a heavy silence until you broke it, minutes later.

“And…and what of…” You trailed off, unable to say the words, unable to ask about the male that had been on your mind since you had been whisked away from the meeting. 

“Beron will be visiting the Court of Nightmares tomorrow,” Rhys said, hesitantly, gauging your emotions. “To discuss what is to be done. It is unfortunate that he knows about the bond now because there is little Eris can do as long as his father is in power.”

“He can finally kill the bastard,” Mor grumbled into a pillow. 

“We must tread carefully,” Amren said. “If Eris is forced to call for a blood duel against Rhysand, he will die and one of his brutish brothers will be next in line for the throne.” 

“What!” You exclaimed. “A blood duel? Would he…would he really do that? Fight Rhysand even if it means certain death?” 

Eris was powerful, sure. But he was still only an heir, not a full blown High Lord like Rhysand. He would be misted in seconds. Just that thought of it sent you into a panic.

“I’ll fight him in your place,” Azriel said, darkly, looking at Rhys but he shook his head.

“We cannot risk that,” Rhys said. 

“Do you really think Beron would have his own son fight and die in a blood duel?” Feyre asked. 

“Of course he would. One less person he has to keep off his throne,” Amren said.

“He’s a monster,” Elain whispered, staring at you with concern. 

“Yes, he is,” Rhys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So we must do as Amren said and tread very carefully.” 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

The next day, you stood in the foyer of the River House, dressed in a simple dark blue, silk dress. Your stomach was tossing and turning with nerves, scared of what would happen during this meeting with Beron. You hated that you were causing your sister and Rhysand so much stress, hated that you were in the middle of this conflict. 

You wished you could turn back time. Wished you could go back to that moment the mating bond snapped so you could hide the realization better. You had always worn your heart on your sleeve and it had finally bit you in the ass. 

You had no idea how today was going to play out.

You were certain of one thing, though. You ached to see Eris again. The mating bond had nearly kept you up all night. Feyre had tried teaching you how to block if off, but it was hard. Eris seemed to have no problem keeping his side of the bond locked down. It infuriated you to know he was probably feeling every single emotion from you. 

“Are you ready?” Rhys asked as Feyre, Mor and Azriel slid into view. 

Rhys and Feyre were dressed like they always were when making trips to Hewn City. Mor wore a scandalous red dress that clung to her beautiful curves and Azriel wore his Illyrian leathers, as per usual, all seven siphons on display. 

You nodded, unable to even speak.

The next hour seemed to happen while you were stuck in a daze. Rhys winnowed you all to Hewn City and led you into the throne room where everyone was waiting. Word must’ve spread quickly of what had occurred. Keir escorted Beron and Eris into the throne room after the formalities were done.

You couldn’t find the nerve to look at Eris now that you were in the same room. You had shown your hand during that meeting and had caused an avalanche to fall in its wake. You felt guilty, ashamed and scared…so scared. 

A dumb bunny, indeed. 

Rhys and Feyre led you all to a private meeting room, shutting the door in Keir’s face as he tried to join. You sat, hiding your shaking hands in your lap, keeping your eyes on the floor. 

“Well, I assume you have come to your senses by now,” Beron said, leaning back in his chair as if he commanded the room. “The girl comes with us. The Night Court owes Autumn a bride as it is.”

His glare focused on Mor for a moment and she scoffed in his direction. 

“Not so fast, Beron,” Rhysand tsked, pouring himself a glass of wine. “We don’t owe you anything. It was your court that ultimately broke the marriage agreement all those years ago.” 

Beron sat up with a sneer. “I believe it was broken the moment that girl decided to whore herself out to an Illyrian bastard of all people.”

You tensed in your seat, gripping the dress in your fists.

“Father, please,” Eris sighed, making you look up at him finally. 

Beron glanced at his son before turning back to Rhysand. “You should be overjoyed that we’re willing to take the girl as it is, considering the beasts in your court have probably ran through her already.”

“Watch your mouth,” Feyre snapped.

The smell of burning wood filled the room and Eris flexed his hands, new scorch marks on the table underneath them. “Don’t speak of her like that.”

Beron laughed. It was an awful sound. “Right, my apologies, son. Don’t worry, those mating instincts will go away once you’ve fucked her for a near century.”

Your face turned bright red at the crude words. Eris growled. The sound was so primitive, so animalistic. It sent chills down your spine. Even Beron looked unnerved for a moment.

“You are not winning yourself any favors,” Rhysand purred, smirking at the older male. “Have you any dignity?”

“Have you?” Beron bit back. “You all but spit on the face of the Mother by keeping her away from her mate. This is more of a blessing for you then it is us. A marriage alliance with Autumn, one you do not deserve that we are graciously offering.”

“Let me make myself clear, Beron, since you refuse to listen,” Rhysand snapped. “Our court has no laws that require a female to accept a bond. You would really go to war over something like this? While our courts are still recovering from the last one?”

Rhys and Feyre had theorized that Beron was so adamant about forcing you into the bond not because he cared for his son, but for two other reasons. One, you were Made. They had all seen how powerful Nesta was because of it and Beron craved power above all else.

Two, it was another way to keep Eris in check. To dangle you over his head as a threat. 

“Perhaps we should ask what she wants,” Mor interjected.

“What she wants does not matter,” Beron snarled. “She is mated to an Autumn male, by our laws she must accept.”

“She is a resident of our court,” Feyre argued back. “She does not have to accept it.”

“Then you leave us no choice,” Beron said, rising from his seat. He planted his palms on the table, staring at you all of a sudden. You crumbled into yourself. “Is that what you want, girl? You want us to declare a blood duel against your family?”

You shook your head as Rhysand stood, slamming his own hands on the table. “You would have your son fight in a blood duel against me, a High Lord?”

“Oh, it wouldn’t be against you,” Beron laughed, cruelly. His eyes fell on Feyre. “And it wouldn’t be my son. I will demand a blood duel against your mate. A mate for a mate. Very fitting, don’t you agree?”

Feyre versus Beron…. That bastard had planned this. You’d all been so concerned with Eris declaring a blood duel you didn’t even realize this would be a way Beron could kill Feyre as he wished in a legal way—as barbaric as it was.

And most of the other courts held the mating bond in such regard, you wondered if you’d find any allies against him for doing this beside Helion. 

Rhysand growled, darkness leaking off of him,

“And I will just fight you in her place.”

Beron smiled. “Oh, but you see, you can’t. Once a blood duel has been declared you either surrender to the terms or fight. I don’t know where you got your information from but there are no place holders allowed.” 

Your heart was racing in your chest. 

Silence fell so heavy in the room your ears were ringing. All of this was all your fault. You felt tears line your eyes. You couldn’t let Feyre fight for you. You wouldn’t. Even though she could probably hold her own against him, he was ages older than her—more battle worn. She’d be at a huge disadvantage.

And Eris couldn’t do anything about this, not if it was his father who wished to fight a blood duel. He couldn’t order his father not to. 

You couldn’t let her do this. You owed your life to her, you owed everything to her. It was time to start fighting your own battles. 

“I’ll go,” you whispered, so quietly you wondered if you had even said the words out loud. “I’ll go.”

Feyre’s head whipped to you. “No, absolutely not.”

But you shook your head. “I do not want anyone fighting on my behalf. I will go with them.”

Beron’s grin grew into one that could rival the devil himself.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

“We will find a way out of this,” Feyre whispered into your ear as she hugged you. “I promise. Just hold out for us, okay? We’ll get you out of there.”

You nodded, pulling away to brush the tears off her cheek. You weren’t even going to be able to say goodbye to Elain and Nesta. Beron was demanding that you leave right away. 

“I’ll be okay, Fey,” you murmured to her. 

“Enough of the dramatics,” Beron called out. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Eris didn’t look at you as he held out a hand. You swallowed audibly and walked to his side, grasping it softly. You spared one last glance at your sister before you were winnowed out of Hewn City and into the den of foxes.

“Come here, girl,” Beron barked, now standing before his throne. “Let me get a look at you.”

You glanced at Eris but he just stood there, stoically, not meeting your gaze. You walked towards Beron, trying not to shake in fear. 

The older male grasped your chin in his hand, turning your face from side to side as he examined you. Eris’s other brothers stood at the bottom of the dais, their wolfish grins doing little to make you less nervous. The Lady of Autumn was seated in a small chair to the side of the throne, her eyes not lifting from the floor. 

“You look just like my other son’s mate,” he remarked. “Smaller, though. The runt of the family, I’m assuming. Pity. Were you not fed properly as a child?” 

You weren’t even sure how to reply to that. You decided not to respond and Beron’s eyes narrowed. 

“Hmm,” he mused, finally letting go of you. “Have you sullied yourself with those beasts?” 

“Father,” Eris growled, stepping up next to you. “That is enough.” 

Beron chuckled, mirthlessly, waving a dismissive hand. “Fine, take her away and get her out of those whorish clothes.”

Eris grabbed you by your upper arm and dragged you out of the throne room. You had to walk quickly, trying to keep up with his long legs as he led you down corridor after corridor. The Forest House was magnificent, beautiful. It was a shame that someone like Beron ran this court, you thought, as you studied the place. 

Eris finally stopped in front of a room, yanking the door open and pushing you inside. You glared at him as he slammed the door shut behind him, crossing your arms. You were inside of a huge suite, it seemed. A lavish sitting room, with two doors on either side, likely leading to a bedroom and bathing chamber. 

“These are my quarters,” Eris explained as he shrugged off his cape coat and tossed it on the red, velvet couch. He began to unbutton his vest as he faced you. “You are to stay here. Do not leave without an escort. Tomorrow, I will assign you two handmaidens to help you.” 

Your eyes widened. “I’m…I’m meant to stay here…in your room?” 

Eris let out a long sigh. “It is the safest place for you and I do not want to risk rumors.” 

“B-but surely this is improper,” you stuttered. “We are not properly mated.” 

Eris let out a cruel laugh. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t made such a spectacle at the High Lords’ meeting so don’t start complaining to me.” 

You felt a flare of anger. 

“You knew,” you grumbled. “You knew about the mating bond between us and you didn’t tell me! Perhaps if you had told me, I wouldn’t have even been in that room! I would’ve stayed home.” 

“Unlikely,” Eris sneered, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from a decanter on a bar cart behind the couch. He chugged the drink down, loosening his collar with his other hand. “You don’t seem to have a lot going on in that pretty little head of yours, bunny. Did you ever stop to think about why I might be hiding it?”

“You are such a prick,” you snapped. “I am not one of your little pawns. I am not a part of your stupid games! You should have told me!”

You went to whirl around but Eris grabbed your wrist, dragging you closer to him. You glared up at him, ignoring the way his heat enveloped you in its embrace. 

“This is not a game to me,” Eris growled. “Have you any idea what you’ve cost me? Have you any idea what he will do to you if I so much as take a single step out of line now?”

You yanked your wrist out of his grip. “Have you any idea what this has cost me? I’m the one who's been forced out of my home—forced to come here!” 

“And who’s fault is that?” 

Eris slammed the empty glass down on the cart. 

“Gods, sorry I couldn’t read your oh-so-clever mind! Sorry I couldn’t act like an emotionless shell of a person like you!” 

“Watch how you speak to me,” Eris snarled. “I can make your life here a living hell, bunny.”

“I’m not scared of you, Eris,” you snapped. “You don’t fool me. I see the real you under that mask and you know what I think—I think it is you who is scared.”

Eris ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You know nothing. Do you understand? Nothing.”

“Then tell me! Tell me so I can help you! I know you do not wish to see your father in power much longer. Let me help!”

Eris grabbed your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him. You hated how cold his amber eyes looked.

“No. Absolutely not. I will not involve you in the slightest,” he snarled before his eyes softened and his hand slipped to cup your cheek instead. “I cannot…I cannot bear to see this place make you cruel. Stay here, where you’ll be safe, bunny. Leave everything else to me. You were not made for this place. But me…You have no idea what kind of monster I can be.”

Eris’s hand dropped back to his side and he stepped away from you, heading towards the door. You were breathing so heavily, your lungs constricting your ribs against the dress you wore. 

“Can we talk about this? Please!”

He said nothing, reaching for the handle of the door. 

“Eris, please!”

His hand fell against the doorframe, flame licking at the wood—scorching it again. A growl rumbled through his chest and his head hung between his shoulders but he didn’t turn around, didn’t look at you.

“Do not,” he groaned. “Do not say my name like that.” 

And then he was gone, leaving you completely alone. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

When you woke up later that night, you found yourself in an unfamiliar room. You sat up, realizing you were laying in a bed. You were certain you had fallen asleep on the couch, not wanting to even go into Eris’s bedroom.

The silk, dark orange sheets next to you were undisturbed. You rubbed at your eyes, getting up from under the covers. You were still in the dress you had fallen asleep in.

You padded over to the door, opening it slowly. You took two steps into the sitting room before you froze in your spot. 

There, on the couch, was Eris. The fireplace was roaring in front of him as he slept, a lump on the floor by his feet. You blinked away the blurriness in your eyes to see what it was.

Ashera was curled up there, the dog you had met that day you had accidentally winnowed into the forest here. She slept soundly on the floor next to him. 

You stepped back into the bedroom and closed the door behind you, quietly, not wanting to disturb them. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

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[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Loose Lips — Part Two (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Finally got round to writing a part two to this after a sudden burst of inspiration. Here is Part One if you missed it.

This isn't proofread, so sorry if it's a pile of dicks. Enjoy!

Warnings: smuttysmutsmut 🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

The forest was undoubtedly beautiful. A place of sure serenity. Somewhere you’d always found peace.

Right now, you felt like nothing short of a thunderbolt in its flawless midst.

You shifted on your feet for what felt like the millionth time, pressing your back against a tree and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t be able to relax until this meeting was over with.

Rhysand’s violet eyes flicked over you, and he frowned. “Are you alright? Why are you so restless?”

Because we’re here to meet with Eris and the last time I did that I somehow, kind of, maybe ended up fucking him—

“Fine.” You quickly answered. “Pain. My cycle is coming.”

Rhys’s eyes softened. “We’ll make this as quick as possible. Once the prick actually deigns to show up.”

You didn’t have a shred of doubt that Eris’s tardiness was deliberate — a power play. And he could play all the games he liked, so long as he kept his damn mouth shut.

As if you’d summoned him with a thought, the Autumn male appeared out of a chill-kissed breeze, his crackling-fire-and-cinnamon scent enveloping you. You tried desperately to block it out — and the sinful thoughts that accompanied it. Of bare skin. Panting breaths. Moans—

“Afternoon.” Eris smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. He offered Rhysand a cursory glance before turning his attention on you. “You’re looking radiant today, Y/N.”

You pursed your lips. Kept your mouth shut. You weren’t getting into it with him — weren’t giving him any ammunition to spill the truth of what had transpired a month earlier.

His lips twitched as he studied you. “What, no smartass response?”

“Cut the shit, Eris.” Rhys rolled his eyes. “Share your information so we can get out of here. We don’t wish to be subjected to your tedious company for any longer than is necessary.”

He cocked his head, and you hated that you noticed he’d cut his hair since you’d last seen him. “Do you not like my company?”

You knew his words were directed at you. He’d come here to play games, and you were having none of it. He allowed his gaze to linger on you for a second longer before turning to your High Lord.

“Well?” Rhys cocked an eyebrow.

Eris folded his arms. “The King of Hybern…”

You didn’t allow yourself to hear the rest of his sentence. For the first time in your career as Rhysand’s courtier, you tuned out, taking in none of the information that was being given. You didn’t hear a word of their discussion as you stared fiercely at a fallen leaf on the ground. You couldn’t.

Because it tortured you on a daily basis that you knew what the redhead’s voice sounded like when he was falling off that precipice into blissful release. The way it had hitched when he’d groaned deeply and spilled into you. It was all you could think about, and you couldn’t bear it.

Guilt had eaten away at you ever since. Guilt and regret. You should never have given yourself to Eris fucking Vanserra.

You only felt safe enough to tune back in when Rhys turned his gaze on you. He gave a subtle dip of his chin, and you returned it — the signal the two of you shared when you’d gleaned useful information to tuck away.

Never mind the fact that you didn’t have a single clue what that information may be.

“Alright, then.” Rhys spoke tersely to the Autumn lord. “Keep me updated. I’ll be in touch when I next need to meet with you.”

“Will it be you, High Lord?” Eris’s lips turned up. He glanced at you. “Or her? I must say, I find her far more appealing to look at.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise. Something to look forward to in your sad little life.” Rhys turned to you, holding out a hand. “Ready?”

You shook your head. “You go. I promised Madja I’d collect some herbs for her while I’m here.”

A small, pathetic part of you wanted to beg Rhys to stay; to keep you company and not leave you alone with Eris. But he was a busy male — far too busy for the drama you’d created for yourself. You plastered a smile on your face.

“I’ll see you at home, then.” He smiled. And without a goodbye to your tentative ally, he disappeared before your eyes.

Eris smirked as he turned to you. “And then there were two.”

“Leave me alone.” You pulled your foraging knife out, turning on your feet. You didn’t look back as you began to kick through leaves and twigs.

But, of course, he was hot on your trail. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody who made you cum not once, not twice, but three times.”

You clenched your jaw, ignoring him as you knelt down in front of a cluster of plants. You would do better this time. You wouldn’t allow your mouth to run you down a path you couldn’t come back from.

He didn’t make it easy, though. Not as you tried to focus yourself solely on gathering the herbs Madja had listed. Despite the lack of conversation — or even acknowledgement of him — Eris pressed himself against a tree and watched you, absentmindedly cleaning his nails with the point of a dagger.

How could you ever have fallen into bed with him? You were such a damn idiot, risking everything for a few fleeting moments of passion. You tucked the herbs neatly away, pushing to your feet and brushing dirt and leaves from your breeches. You turned—

And stopped as Eris appeared in front of you. He smirked. “I’m still waiting, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For you to thank me for not spilling your dirty little secret.”

Prick. You shoved past him, ignoring his warmth, his scent.

He was at your side in seconds. “Aren’t you so relieved that I didn’t slip up and tell Rhysand about your little ride? I still could.”

Every last drop of your sensibility fizzled out. You couldn’t stop yourself from rounding on him. “Are you truly in a position to be threatening me? Both of us fucked up that night. What do you think Beron would have to say if he found out you’d bedded someone from the Night Court, of all places?”

“My father doesn’t care who I bed. I’m free to do whatever I please, so long as it doesn’t distract me from the ultimate goal.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

His amber gaze glittered, catching the sun. “World domination.”

You rolled your eyes. “How very cliche.”

You made to push past him again, to get the fuck out of there, but his hand was suddenly gripping onto yours. In seconds, he had you pressed against the body of a tree.

You clenched your jaw. “Get. The hell. Away from—”

The remainder of the sentence didn’t have a chance to so much as form as Eris’s mouth found yours.

The press of his kiss was hot and needy, and as his lips moulded with yours, he groaned.

It was that action that made you realise just how little space existed between your bodies. His hips were pinned to yours, keeping you in place, and the warmth of him seeped into you as your breasts brushed his chest. Within seconds — mere seconds of him kissing you — you felt him harden in his breeches. His groan seemed to vibrate through every part of him and into you.

And then he was tearing his lips from yours. Staring down at you. “Fuck, you taste amazing. I’ve thought about nothing but this,” he rolled his hips against you, making sure your attention went exactly where he wanted it, “for over a month, now. Tell me you’ve been just as crazed.”

You had been. Perhaps more so. But you swallowed. “I can’t.”

That didn’t deter Eris from slanting his lips over yours again. His tongue swiped out, brushing against the seam of your lips, and you were powerless against your need as you opened your mouth and allowed him to dip in.

You gasped at the first taste of him; something cool and crisp and smoky. And you knew you were done fighting, telling yourself you didn’t want this, as you grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him more firmly against you.

He grunted as the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against your stomach. His lips slid from yours, dragging slowly over your cheek, and then the cut of your jaw, down to your neck.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He panted, pressing quick, chaste kisses to the hollow of your throat. “Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, knowing there was no chance in hell of that. “No.”

And that single word — as much as it pained you to say it — dragged such a delicious, guttural noise from him, that you forgot entirely about who you were and why this was wrong. Nothing else mattered in that moment other than what Eris was doing.

Your mouth went so very, very dry as he pulled away to meet your gaze. And then lowered himself to his knees before you.

He was utterly uncaring of the dirt and leaves that stuck to his breeches as he clasped your legs. And the hard press of his hands felt scorching through your own pants. You wouldn’t be surprised to find that he’d turned the clothing to mere ash he dragged his palms up the backs of your legs and cupped your ass.

“You’re fucking mouthwatering.” He dipped in, pressing a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. “I need to taste you.”

“Holy gods.” You cursed, your head falling back against the tree. “Do it, then.”

Like a male entirely starved and desperate, his nimble fingers moved to the buttons on your breeches, making quick work of getting them undone. The second they were loosened enough, he yanked them down with a feral command that had heat rushing between your legs.

And he could scent that. You knew it. He inhaled deeply, and his responding moan was sinful.

“This is wrong.” Your voice was weak, useless, as your head fell back.

“So wrong.” Eris hooked his fingers into the thin waistband of your undergarments. Tugged them down..

You made no move to stop him. “And stupid. And selfish. And—”

Your words turned into a moan as he dipped in and dragged his tongue up the very centre of you.

A satisfied grunt left him, and he lifted your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. It had you at a better angle, closer to him, so he could feast on you.

And feast, he did.

His mouth and tongue were renowned for wielding wicked, barbed words, but this was a different language entirely. His fingers dug into your legs as he buried himself between your thighs, licking and lapping and fucking devouring. He made his way up, scraping teeth over your clit, the sensation both pleasant and unpleasant. Before you had a chance to react, he soothed over the area with the pad of his tongue, and a bolt of white-hot pleasure surged through you.

“Oh, gods.” Breathy words escaped your lips. Thank the Mother above for the mammoth tree at your back that gave you the support to move as you wished to move, undulating your hips, grinding against Eris’s face.

And from the way he growled and feasted on you harder, you knew he liked it. He was becoming coated in you, painting himself with your wetness. With the roll of your hips picking up pace, he didn’t falter once.

“Look at you.” He breathed, eyes flicking up to drink you in. “You’re a fucking vision.”

“Stop talking and make me—oh.”

Your hips bucked as he slid a finger into you, the friction of his callused skin like a sinful bite you wanted more of. You didn’t know if you vocalised that, or if Eris simply read you well, but he quickly added a second finger, pumping them in and out.

“Just as you felt around my cock that night.” He panted. “Squeezing me like that.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair, needing to just…to just grab onto something. He seemed to like it as you pulled, and he thrust his fingers faster in return.

“I’m going to make you come on my fingers.” His tongue stroked at you. “And again on my cock.”

Somewhere, some steeled part of you wanted to give a smartass retort. But you were far too gone, splintering into tiny shards of pleasure against that tree. There was nothing, in that moment, besides the sensations Eris Vanserra dragged from between your thighs. No long-lived feuds or tentative alliances or right or wrong.

It was just him. His fingers. His tongue.

And it sent you hurtling right off that blissful cliff edge into release.

As you came, you thought you maybe shouted loud enough to frighten the birds from the trees. Your pleasure was a fearsome force as it stormed your body, your mind, your soul, until you weren’t sure who you’d be without it. How you could survive not experiencing this weightlessness again.

And Eris…he seemed to enjoy your pleasure as much as you did. Even though his cock strained through his breeches, touched by nothing but torturous fabric, his tongue and fingers continued to guide you through your climax, and he peppered in filthy, scandalous words that you were far too fractured to make sense of.

Until he pulled back to look up at you again. “I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you.” He said.

You weren’t sure you could deny, any longer, that this truly had been going on for that long. It didn’t start with that one night of bad decisions driving you into bed with him. It had been years and years of thinly-veiled threats and barbed words and insults and vitriol soaked in lust.

Every bit of hatred you’d ever directed at each other had been to try and avoid this — giving in to a carnal need that had existed between you since the first ever time your eyes had met.

You knew you didn’t have that strength, that resolve, anymore.

“I need you inside me.” Your voice was rough, raw. You reached down, shamelessly yanking Eris to his feet by the fabric of his jacket, not caring that your desperation showed. “Fuck me.”

You wanted it — him — hot and hard and fast and certainly not gentle. You wanted the bark of the tree biting into you as he pounded you from behind. You wanted him roaring as unguarded as you had.

“You’re a little brat.” Was all he responded. And then he was kissing you again.

You allowed him the control of your lips as your fingers tore at the front buttons on his breeches. Nothing was moving fast enough, and you were hot all over, desperate to feel him pulsing deep inside you—

Y/N. I need you back here.

Rhysand’s voice in your head was akin to be plunged in ice-cold water. Damn daemati. You froze in place, your hands falling still.

Eris didn’t seem to notice as he kissed his way along your jaw.

Y/N. Rhys spoke into your mind again. Get back as soon as you can. Need to discuss Azriel’s report.

You sucked in a breath, planting your hands on Eris’s arms. You pushed him off you. “I have to leave.”

He paused, surprise crossing his face. “What?”

“I can’t — I’m needed back home.” Clarity was dawning on you more and more, paired with guilt. You’d fucked up again. You tried to shake the feeling off as you yanked your underwear and breeches up in one go. “I can’t do this.”

“Seriously?” Eris cocked an eyebrow. “You’re leaving now?”

It was an effort not to glance down at the very unsatisfied bulge still pressing through his breeches. “Rhys just spoke into my thoughts. He needs me back.”

“How convenient.”

Of course he didn’t believe you. You had to admit, it didn’t look great — getting an earth-shattering orgasm out of him and then leaving.

But perhaps it was a blessing from the Mother. Perhaps she was stopping you taking it too far a second time.

“Believe what you want.” You pushed past Eris, buttoning your breeches up. “I answer to my High Lord first and foremost.”

“Go running back to him then.” Eris shrugged. And if you weren’t mistaken, you thought that a strange quality lay in his tone. Perhaps hurt, or…or jealousy. “He says jump and you say how high, right?”

“You have your High Lord, Eris,”  you smoothed over the wrinkles in your clothes, “and I have mine.”

He pressed his back against the tree, watching with an unreadable expression as you checked yourself over.

And then the corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’ll be back, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “That is a very, very bad idea.”

You winnowed out of there before he could respond.