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#shut up eris lmao
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You give everyone your discord nowdays, don't you?
Whore
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rueria · 5 months
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hortus de escapismo word vomit bc i cant seem to get this event outta my head apparently
i don't know who and how many exactly in the monastery were influenced by arturia, maybe her arts made the non-sarkaz more on-edge towards the sarkaz as a reflection of their hidden frustrations. maybe delfina and fortuna could have resolved things more calmly if it wasn't for her music. if she wasn't there, maybe clement wouldn't have submitted to his despair so soon. or maybe not.
i believe what happened in the monastery wasn't her fault (the root cause here is laterano's status quo, among other things), she "just" accelerated it. what happened would've probably still happened. and it's not like removing one's inhibitions and showing their truest emotions is inherently destructive. the abbot prepared the communion bread, but at the last moment he decided not to bring it to the last mass. i believe that was his true desire.
honestly, what i find curious is executor's single-mindedness in trying to apprehend her. and i do remember that he blames her, saying something like "once again, your actions have led to deaths" (non-verbatim)
idk, i also think her arts are dangerous, but that dangerous that he almost drops everything else the moment he recognizes her cello? and what i find ironic is that, he essentially watched clement kill himself. he tried to dissuade him, yes, but he ultimately respected his choice. is it because he knew, as someone who knows arturia's arts more than anyone else, that *this* was what clement really wanted to do, and he couldn't bring himself to interfere?
what does he really think about arturia and her arts? federico isn't prejudiced the way other sankta are, he just enforces the law to the letter (and for that matter, why *does* he do that? i doubt it's just bc it's his job?). does he view arturia as urgently dangerous because she's a major threat to the law, aka the status quo? if thats the case, isn't it strange that he seems to be the only one who's that dedicated to catching her? mr. oren "preserve laterano's greatness" argiolas was more concerned about protecting laterano-leithanien relations over her. maybe bc he's the only one who understands how powerful her arts are? then, how does he react when he finds out that she's [redacted]? can ZH pls come faster
anyway uh back to arturia, i don't think arturia is evil but i do think she's wrong. wrong in that i personally can't agree with her on principle. i don't think what she wants is bad or evil tbh, or even truly wrong. i just can't agree with it. a person's true emotions and desires aren't all a person should be. inhibitions, while they can be limiting, are also just as much part of a person as their truest emotions. it's like putting a person in a dire and deadly situation and judging them based on their actions in those circumstances, labeling that as their true self. idk, maybe i'm misinterpreting what exactly she wants and how her arts work, or what "true emotions" even are. maybe it's because i try to think what would happen if *i* listened to her music and i feel like i'd probably do things i'd regret.
well, ZH should probably answer a lot of my questions about arturia. but it seems to me that it'd be a long while before the laterano storyline is resolved, especially since it also concerns the sarkaz
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lukesbenward · 27 days
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my professor said something today i’m gonna think about for the rest of my life and it was that i am really good at talking about my work, the choices that go behind it, and everytime i give a presentation all of my decisions make sense and i come across as very confident. he said it’s a skill that few young designers have and that it’s something to be proud of and i just there is something about that that is such a relief that i have never felt before
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talesof-old · 3 months
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spare me | e.v. & a.s.
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pairing(s): poly!azris x fem!reader
warning(s): slightly suggestive if you squint, mentions of beron vanserra, implied torture/injuries, fear of abandonment, fear of loved ones being hurt, saying i love you a little too early maybe, nonsexual nudity
word count: 1k
a/n: this is more angst than fluff but it ends on a happier note lmao
masterlist
poly!azris + angst & fluff for my little celebration
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Being immortal was never easy.
With centuries spread out before you like the gaping mouth of some terrible beast, it threatened to consume every one of your relationships. Each would, most likely, be as fleeting as a mortal’s life. Fragile, finite.
Perhaps it was better to end things before they got too hard. It allowed for allies where there would be enemies.
But as you gazed into the amber eyes of your lover, your very soul ached at the notion. His eyes were lit with something wild, feral in the way only a cornered wild animal could be. Sorrow lined your face as you reached for him.
Beside you, Azriel lounged across the bed, his relaxed body betrayed only by the tense expression he wore. His wings were limp on the sheets: open, vulnerable.
You shouldn’t have said it. As soon as the words left your mouth you’d wished you could take them back. I love you had been easy. The frantic patter of your heart and the pain in your chest was not. Naked and satiated, tracing circles over Eris’ scars, you’d spoken your feelings.
Azriel rested a hand on the dimple of your back, supportive in his silence. You knew he’d felt the same, but perhaps he wasn’t so much of a fool to voice it.
“You can’t-“ Eris’ words brought you back to the present. He scrambled out of bed, hands trembling as he dressed. You pushed yourself up, thighs protesting, and watched as he tried to pull himself together. You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, muscles tight with tension.
“You can’t. You don’t.”
A sharp wave of anger shot through your blood. Who was he to dictate how you felt? Even if he did not feel the same.
“Don’t say that. Don’t tell me how to feel.” A humorless laugh echoed through the all too quiet room. The hair on your arms stood up, and Azriel finally allowed himself to move up from the bed.
“You don’t love me, you’re simply interested in the pleasure I bring you.” Your gut churned. Frustrated tears built up in your eyes but you will them away, voice sharp as you respond.
“You are more than a puppet to be used, Eris.”
He inhaled sharply.
The pause was all you needed, slowly removing yourself from the bed without sparing a sideways glance at your other lover. His shadows were curling around your limbs as if to keep you safe, but there was nothing to protect you from.
Eris stood still, barely breathing, as you approached. A wall of heat seemed to guard the air around him. You didn’t care. You reached for him, cool fingers making contact with burning skin, and simply stayed there. He would not push you away out of fear. And his was so palpable, the taste bitter on your tongue.
“If you don’t want this, tell me how to un-love you. Spare me the torment of wanting you but not having you.” You shook your head. “I would fight for the rest of my life for you, Beron Vanserra be damned.” His eyes fluttered shut as your hands skimmed over his chest, rising to cradle his jaw in your hands. Tension fell from him in waves.
“I can’t lose either of you.”
You sighed, stepping closer even still. Shadows slithered from your wrists to caress his pale skin. He kept his hands at his side, fists clenched as if to keep from touching you.
“My love,” you whispered. “Look at me.”
Moments ticked by. Azriel’s shadows were wound with tension, skirting over your figures in place of your partner’s hands.
Eris opened his eyes, red rimmed and glassy. You stroked the hard planes of his cheeks with your thumbs. The faintest freckles dusted the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, and you ached to still be lying in bed and tracing shapes between them.
“I’m not afraid of saying I love you, Eris Vanserra. Every fiber of my being longs for you. I don’t care if Beron himself hears me now.” He tensed all over again, even as you attempted to coax him out from behind his mountain high walls.
“You are worth it. To me, you’re worth everything.” A few stray tears fell from his eyes, though he didn’t make a sound. In a rush, you were wrapped in his embrace, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
“I’ll only cause you pain, suffering even.”
You huffed a laugh, tangling a hand in his hair.
“That’s my choice, love. Besides, it’s not you that’s causing me pain.”
He drew away, only to be swept up in the thick arms of your shadowsinger. They were much less affectionate with one another, but even Azriel understood that physical touch grounded Eris more than words ever really did. Eris, while taller, curled into the embrace.
“You’re stuck with us, fox.” Azriel’s low voice had you quirking up a brow.
“Come back to bed.” Unable to argue, Eris allowed the two of you to undress him, guiding him back to the silk sheets you’d begged them to purchase.
You curled up into his left side, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder.
“You’re worth more than you think, you have to know that.”
Eris’ fingers laced through yours, squeezing your hand gently. Azriel pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“We’ll be free one day, fox. I promise.” You glanced up, watching their exchange with soft eyes. Eris slotted his mouth against Azriel’s, sighing as he deepened the kiss. You rested your head on the redhead’s shoulder. A dark wing rose to cover your bodies, twitching as you lightly scraped the membrane with your nail.
Azriel huffed, pulling away from Eris and glancing down at you with a teasing gleam in his hazel eyes. “Needy.” You closed your eyes, nuzzling into the warmth of your partner. Even if this was destined to end sooner rather than later, at least there had been moments of love, of tenderness.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
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queenpiranhadon · 26 days
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A/N: I find it hilarious that this is Bakugou x Reader and he's not even in like 1/3 of the series LMAO Big thanks to our resident beta reader @cashmoneyyysstuff srlsy dunno how she thought I was cool enough to follow ily 😭 Here's the masterlist!
Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, Shinso is a year younger than reader, reader is 20 years old, afab!reader, reader's mother is dead, medieval fantasy setting, reader cries a lot, reader started sword fighting at age six, reader passes out from crying, reader drugs her family (JUST HEAR ME OUT LMAO- I DON'T CONDONE STUFF LIKE THAT BUT ITS FOR THE PLOT), bad explanations of anesthetics, reader's nickname is Cactus and Warrior, slight spoilers of the actual show/manga, mentions of crossdressing (it's probably inaccurate, idk man I'm not really experienced with this sorta stuff lol).
Pairing(s): Katsuki Bakugou x Reader
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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ: Bruises
“I have bad news.” 
In that moment, you’re pretty sure you felt your heart stop. 
You sat there, frozen, unable to move as everyone else at the table starts talking immediately, asking your father was the issue was. 
Yet his eyes remained on you, inky coals transfixed on you, unwavering, boring into your soul as if waiting, watching to see what you’d do next. 
Your mind tries to wander, briefly remembering the last time your father said that, the slight pain in his seemingly empty eyes and his strained tone of voice. The last time those words were uttered, your mother died. 
No. 
Now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time to protect your family, like you always have. Your feelings weren’t important now.  
You notice your father rub his index finger against the underside of his thumb, a code you knew to mean retreat. In this case, he wanted to go outside to talk to you, alone. 
The table goes silent as you stand up with a word, worried glances being sent you way. Smiling reassuringly at them, you make your way around the table to the door, spinning around to squeeze Ejiro’s shoulder as he was the closest to you and make eye contact with your brother.  
“Toshi, you’re in charge in the meantime- make sure everyone has enough to eat alright?” you ask, and he hums in agreement, but narrows his eyes, a look that means you’re telling me everything once you’re done. 
You chose to ignore that, turning around again to exit your home to meet your father who was waiting for you outside.  
Shutting the door behind you, you see him staring up at the starless sky, covered by clouds and most likely smoke from fires made to provide warmth with the coming winter.  
You join him on the steps of your porch, staring up into the night sky with him. It was poetic in a way, the loss of the stars in the sky reminded you of the man by your side.  
Shota Aizawa was a swordsman, and one of the finest in the kingdom of Bellorant. Since you were six, he used to teach you, much to your mother’s annoyance. She didn’t want you near anything of the sort, especially when you returned one day covered in bruises, saying "Shota, she’s six! She needs to grow to be a lady, not a soldier or a fighter. She doesn’t need to grow up around violence.” 
Yet he still taught you, teaching you ancient sword techniques and sparred with you on occasion, but you never won – unless he let you. Every time, he would stop you at the most spontaneous moments, you could be in the middle of a heated spar when he rubbed his index finger against his thumb, retreat. It was like he had a sixth sense, knowing exactly when your mother would be home, and when she walked through the front door, you would be helping your father with preparing dinner.  
It was your secret, only for the two of you.  
At least for four years. After your mother had passed away, your father basically fell apart, refusing to teach you as an unspoken promise to your mother following her death.  
He could barely look at a sword the same way after he lost both his leg and your mother, like the starless sky - you knew it was possible, yet it seemed wrong. Your father was as empty without his swords as the sky was without stars. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask, your voice betraying you, coming out as a shaky whisper.  
The raven-haired man sucks in a breath, refusing to look at you, not saying anything, The silence was deafening and suffocating, as waves of anxiety rack your brain and your heart rate picks up.  
What in the world could be so bad that he can’t even look you in the eye?! 
“I’m being enlisted into the army. The roundup is tomorrow at dawn.” 
Time stops right then and there. You feel your heart drop. You couldn’t lose him, you couldn’t. Sending him out there was suicide, and he knew it.  
He couldn’t do this to you, not after losing your mother. You needed him, he was all you had left to prevent you from tearing yourself apart from the inside. He was the loose string in the fabric that held everything together but was easily able to be pulled away in the blink of an eye.  
You didn’t realize you were crying until a rough hand comes up and brushes a few tears from your face.  
“You have to be strong my warrior.” he whispers softly, the name hitting you harder than it should’ve.  
He hadn’t called you that since the last time you trained together.  
Words fail you, but he understands, holding you tight as the dam breaks, unshed tears falling as years of suffocating pain and stress release you in the form of salty tears that drip down your cheeks and soak into your father’s shirt.  
You were going to be all alone again.  
Just the thought brings even more tears to your eyes, heaving sobs so powerful that you can’t breathe, there’s just too much and you can’t take it anymore, but you have to.  
You have to, for Hitoshi and Eri. If nothing else, do it for them.  
*** 
You’re not sure when you passed out, but you come to lying in your bed, your dad probably carried you.  
Your throat feels dry, and your eyes burn. Shivering and burying yourself in your blankets, your heart sinks as the situation dawns on you. 
Taking in a shaky deep breath you think, like you always have. Thinking about how to fix a problem that seemed so big that you could never fix it.  
But there was always a way.  
You tried to remember the last time enlistments happened. It wasn’t the first time your father has been in a war, neither had it been for many of the men in your village. But the rest of the village wasn’t battling a severe disability and trying to cope with even more severe mental health issues.  
As per the crown’s decree, the terms for enlistment were the oldest able-bodied man from each household would be sent to join the army out of loyalty for their country.  
That didn’t make sense- considering that your father was far from able bodied...shit.  
The alternative would’ve been HItoshi. Your father, knowing this, probably created a loophole, saying that the makeshift wooden prosthetic Chiyo provided from him considered the man able bodied, saving Hitoshi from the hardships of war he’d have to endure either way.  
Bastard. You curse mentally, somewhat towards your father but mostly at the situation at hand. Shota Aizawa was an intuitive man, and knew exactly how to manipulate a situation to get what he wants. This trait, both helpful and infuriating was one that was passed down to you, which explained how you could read people well enough to know their intentions.
But you knew that right now, what you needed was both your father and Hitoshi, at some, safe.  
And for that to happen, you needed some third Aizawa son to step in and take the burden from them both.  
Then it hit you, maybe there was.  
Cross dressing wasn’t a completely new subject to you- you remembered when you and Ochako snuck into a pub one night, dressed as two boys so no men would try to make a move on either of you.  
Maybe it would work again.  
Creeping out of your room, you see that everyone’s gone to bed. For once, you’re thankful that you do all the chores around the house, tip toeing into the room where you washed and dried all your clothes, spotting the basket of unfolded clean clothes that needed to be put away.  
Sifting through its contents, you find what you were looking for: a yellowed white tunic and some thick black pants that belong to your brother.  
Perfect. 
This was all going according to plan.  
Depositing the clothes in your room, you go into the washroom, finding the medicine cabinet where all Eri’s concoctions lived.  
You wince, knowing this was technically drugging your family against their will, but you get to work, finding the balm used for sleep. 
Sneaking into Hitoshi’s room first, you take some of the balm, rubbing the substance against your fingertips before rubbing it gently against the skin that covered his temple, herbs that were said to have magical properties allowed a light dosage of melatonin into the neural system.  
You felt his body relax, all the tenseness gone from his frame, and you kiss his forehead softly, a tear pricking your eye. 
You might never see him again.  
“I love you Hitoshi.” you murmur, stroking his hair before doing the same for your father and sister both sound asleep, and they would be for the next twelve hours.  
Fingering the paper in your hands, you bring it up to your lips, a final blessing from you before putting the letter addressed to your family on the dining table.  
It was almost dawn, grabbing the roll of bandages from the washroom and wrapping your torso with it to make your chest flatter. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, but you persisted, knowing that it would only be a minor inconvienience in the long run. 
Slipping your brother’s clothes on, you tie your hair into a wolf’s knot, a hairstyle that your father taught you himself, the mark of a warrior. Slipping on Hitoshi’s shoes, you grab the worn picture of your family ten years ago, looking at it, your mother’s face, and your father’s happy one. Now he’d at least be alive to have the chance to feel like that again
You put the photo in your satchel, along with the dagger you used to train with, and the diary Ejiro gifted you when you were thirteen. It was very thick, enough to only be half filled from 7 years of your living, but then again you never really used it back then. Well, that was going to change now, determined to leave your family and friends a little more than a rushed letter if you die.  
Holy shit.  
You could die.  
The thought had never properly struck you until now, and yet, you didn’t feel dread. You just understood the grim truth that if it wasn’t you, it would be Hitoshi or your dad, and it were more than happy to put your life on the line for them.  
You see the sun’s ray start to peak out of the horizon, eyes sweeping your home one last time before closing the door, hand staying on the doorknob for a split second longer than you should’ve, as it trying to subconsciously memorize how it feels. 
One step by one, you make your way down the steps of your porch, the same ones you sat on the night before where you cried your heart out in your father’s arms.  
That seemed so long ago, yet only a few seconds ago at the same time.  
You make your way down the cobblestone path, down to the center of the village, spotting men from the imperial palace with their scrolls condemning their people to death.  
You swallow down the pit in your stomach, taking a deep breath and joining the crowd of men that gathered around.  
Goodbye, home.  
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dottores · 2 years
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SKINNY LOVE | IL DOTTORE
summary: a failed mission sets dottore off, just not in the way you might’ve expected--the doctor cares for no one but himself and his research, not even his own segments, so why was he so incensed at the fact that you were hurt?
warnings: no warnings, really, reader a bit anxious over just failing a mission and a small wound. just some hurt/comfort (??) with dottore. not rlly sure what to label it.
notes: man ik dottore isn't rlly the hurt/comfort man but i think i kept this rlly well in character im lowkey proud i even had tee n eris double check 4 me <3 i wrote this during my breakdown friday adfijaiosdfjia LMAO @tweris @dxlucs @7rkx @mxnjiros @hanmas @albedophoria @tokyometronetwork @manjiroscum @dynalite @niicevibe
wordcount: 1.5k
“You’re upset.”
You looked away at the statement--there was no sort of empathy or worry behind his words, it was a simple observation, a fact, nothing more, nothing less. He barely bothered to look at you as he spoke, engrossed with the vial in his hands. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he didn’t care at all. 
If you didn’t know any better.
He wouldn’t have acknowledged it at all if that were the case.
“I’m not,” you said after a moment, clearing your throat and smoothing your palms over your pants twice before picking at your cuticles, a nervous habit that you couldn’t seem to break. 
“... and now you are lying.”
You grit your teeth together, ignoring Dottore’s words as you became frustrated with one cuticle that would just not peel off. You let out a shaky breath, bringing your finger to your mouth, going to rip it off with your teeth instead, but a hand curled around your wrist before you could--grip firm and unmoving even as you tried to pull your hand away. 
Reluctantly, your gaze drew upward to where Dottore was now standing in front of you, staring down at you unamused and unimpressed. “What happened?” he asked again, and you noticed that he had placed the vial down, averting all of his attention to you as he waited for you to explain. 
And you wanted to explain, you really did, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit that you had failed the one mission that you had been given, not to Dottore. You were already trying to brace yourself for the punishment that would come from Pantalone at your failure. So you kept your mouth shut, turning your face away from him as you waited for him to lose interest and go back to his research.
You should have known better.
You felt two fingers grab your chin, not hard enough to bruise by any means but also not gently. Dottore turned your head back toward him, tilting your face up and forcing you to look at him. You kept your gaze averted but you could feel the way he was searching your face for answers, trying to piece together on his own what happened. Sometimes you really hated how smart he was. 
“Your mission went poorly,” Dottore finally spoke up--it was a statement but also a question, he was waiting for your reaction to see if he had deduced it correctly. And you couldn’t help the way your throat spasmed as you tried to swallow back the sob--you had never been one to handle failure well, ever since you were a kid. “I see.”
Dottore let go of your face and you snapped your head to the side, turning away as you tried to blink back the tears that were building too rapidly for you to control. He didn’t speak again as he moved back to his lab table, picking the vial back up and watching it absently before placing it on a burner. 
“What happened?” he questioned as he put away some of his tools, walking to the other side of the room where he had several other vials displayed.
Breathe in, breathe out.
“Pantalone sent me to the Natlan border--to Apavny--to pick up some materials for Sandrone. It was, um, supposed to be a simple mission, not even leaving the homeland-” your voice cracked, your hand went to your side as pain shot through your abdomen at the reminder. You noticed how Dottore was now looking at you sharply from the corner of his eye, waiting for you to continue--you tried to hide the way you were holding your side, “Natlan has been getting more aggressive, we knew that, I just didn’t think-”
“They attacked you,” there was an odd tone to his voice, tight and unfriendly, as he placed the final vial back in the burner and turned to look at you. You weren’t sure you had ever heard him take a tone other than the low drawl he usually spoke in. 
“They got the materials-” you tried to continue, confirming his suspicions that you had failed the mission, but apparently that hadn’t been what he was leading to.
“You’re hurt.”
You faltered as you forced yourself to look back up at him, catching the way his jaw was taut and the way his eyes were trained solely on you, waiting for you to speak but you weren’t sure what he wanted you to say. Instead, you only shook your head.
“It’s only a flesh wound,” you said quietly. “It’ll be-”
Your voice hung off when you noticed the livid expression that had crossed Dottore’s face, it was only for half a second but you had caught it and you couldn’t help the way you hesitated. He was angry? But why?
Dottore didn’t speak again, returning his attention to the lab table, and you noted that instead of moving to continue his research, he was now putting the vials and materials away. His movements were still as smooth and graceful as usual, but each time he shut one of his drawers, it was a bit harder than necessary, the bang nearly making you flinch.
Was he mad at you? You couldn’t tell and any question you might’ve had to ask him died on the tip of your tongue as soon as you opened your mouth to ask him. The moments he spent putting away his tools and materials were long and agonizing, an anxiety building in you that you had never felt before. Dottore wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that--he might not care for anybody but himself but he had always favored you the most of everyone within the Fatui, even above the other Harbingers and his own segments.
What if your failure ruined it? The disappointment enough reason for him to cast you aside? You had never understood why he favored you, you figured it was because he saw potential in you and now, with your failure, you-
You hadn’t even realized he had come to stand in front of you, lifting one hand to your jaw again to tilt your face up toward his. Your cheeks were wet, you hadn’t even realized you were crying and Dottore hated weakness, any sign or mention of it had him mocking and cruel. “I’m sor-” you tried to say, voice cracking despite your strongest attempts to keep it steady.
“You said this happened in Apavny?” he asked, voice low and quiet and tense, but the grip he had on your jaw was gentle this time--he was never gentle with you, not while he was training you, now while he was trying to teach you about his research, he was always cold and sharp and unforgiving.
You nodded as best you could with the grip on his jaw. 
“You did the best you could,” he said after a moment. “I’ll take care of it from here.”
You were at a loss for words as you stared up at him but Dottore didn’t linger. His hand dropped from your face, the cold expression returning as he turned to grab his cloak from where it was hanging several feet away, shrugging it on before fastening his mask on. 
“Dottore, they’re probably long gone,” you tried to tell him, taking a few steps toward him but you froze when he turned his head over his shoulder to look at you--you couldn’t see his eyes from behind his mask and it had always unnerved you because you could never how he was feeling.
He didn’t even bother to respond to you, pushing the doors to the lab open and leaving without another word, leaving you standing there reeling, trying to figure out what had just happened.
---
Hours later, he returned, blood still splattered on his cloak and face, the box of materials you had failed to retrieve snug in his arms. His lips were tight and flat, and his eyes were still covered by the mask, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 
He didn’t speak as he pushed the box into your own arms, not until he had already passed by you. “Bring it to Pantalone, tell him you retrieved it.”
Your mouth was dry as you stared down at the box, confused and trying to push away the rising emotions. You spun around to look at him but he didn’t even bother to look back as he walked back down the hall toward his lab.
“Dottore,” you called, watching as he paused midstep, waiting for you to continue. “Why?”
He didn’t answer, and you supposed you should have expected that. Instead, he waited for a moment before continuing down the hall, leaving your question hanging heavy in the air between the two of you as you stared down at the box with an oddly warm feeling in your chest, wondering what this all meant.
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autumnshighlady · 4 months
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I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 20)
NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER
summary: reader meet's Eris's mother, and Azriel offers a helping hand. An unexpected visitor comes to autumn, I cannot do summaries to save my life
warnings: graphic violence/torture, Cassian slander, tw B*ron sucking but also kinda slaying, implied SA, themes of depression, angst because apparently i can't write happy things
word count: 7.4k
DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE
a/n: two chapters in one day to spoil y'all as thanks for waiting so long for part 19 lmao. sorry if this chapter seems slow, but the next two chapters are doozies so gear up!
part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19
read on ao3
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You barely heard the hushed voices of the servants as they fiddled with the wedding dress. Pins poked at your skin as adjustments to the garment were made, but you didn’t care. You simply stood there silently, staring at the husk of a female who looked like you in the mirror. Nobody had asked you anything – not for your opinion on the dress, how it felt, nothing. Not that you expected them to. They were all aiming to please Beron Vanserra, not you.
For the past week, you hadn’t heard from or seen Nesta. Or Eris. Ever since Malgorm paid you an unexpected visit that night, Eris had warned you that it would be too dangerous to meet up for the next while. That Malgorm was likely to be excited about his new bride, and the risk of him showing up unexpectedly was too great. You hadn’t even dared to use the bond to communicate with Nesta, for fear the magic would somehow be detected by Beron’s many complex wards.
Once again, you were completely alone.
It was hard not to fall back into that panic you felt when you had woken up in Rhysand’s dungeons. That same feeling of helplessness washed over you again and again, and you had no idea what to do. Nesta, Eris, and Azriel had all promised you that this marriage wouldn’t happen, but refused to let you in on any of their planning.
“It’s too risky,” Azriel had pointed out to you when you protested. “You cannot know anything about what we are planning. If Beron or Malgorm finds out, we cannot risk you being implicated.”
Naturally, you had bitched and complained about how they didn’t have a right to risk themselves for your safety, but it landed on deaf ears. One hard look from your mate was enough to make you shut up about the matter.
They had promised to do something, yet the wedding grew closer every day. Beron had originally planned for Eris and Nesta to be married first, but whispers from the servants informed you that Malgorm had insisted that his wedding be moved up as fast as possible so he could breed you sooner. The thought made you want to vomit. Shockingly, Beron had agreed, his apparent reasoning being it gave them more time to plan the grand wedding of his eldest son. 
Tears pricked at your eyes as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The dress was pretty – a thick satin gown made with the purest of white fabric, with long sleeves and a high neck. Gold thread was embroidered around the neckline, going down the bust and arms like tendrils of flame. It was a suitable wedding dress – definitely not as elaborate as Nesta’s would be, but befitting of a marriage within a royal family.
You had been completely overwhelmed the past week with the amount of servants flocking you to prepare for the wedding. They fiddled with your hair and makeup, poking and prodding you like you were a doll for dress up.
You shuddered to think of how much more chaotic it would be for Nesta and her wedding with Eris, the eldest. After all, Malgorm was only Beron’s second youngest. 
When you weren’t being prepared for the wedding, you spent your time alone in your room, laying on the bed and watching the raindrops trickle down the window. You dared not wander the halls to entertain yourself, the fear of running into Malgorm too great. Realistically, he knew where your room was so if he truly wanted to find you, nothing could stop him. But you did not want to take the unnecessary risk.
Every time you slept for the past week, your dreams were plagued by nightmares of Malgorm. You’d wake up in tears most of the time, yearning for Nesta’s comforting presence or Eris’s smooth words to soothe you. You could still feel his hand around your throat, the remnants of the bruises still visible.
Conveniently enough, the neckline of the dress was just high enough to cover those marks on your neck.
A quiet knock at the door snapped you out of your trance. The servants scurried into whatever formation was required of them seconds before the wooden door opened. You tore your gaze away from the mirror to see a petite female with long auburn hair entering your room. Her skin was pale as snow, covered in heavy green robes. A sheer gold veil covered her head, as if meant to hide her from the world. Her russet eyes landed on you and she let out a small smile.
“My lady.” One of the servants said in greeting, bowing her head. The female’s face was unreadable, a mask of boredom so similar to the one you saw Eris wear.
“Leave us, please.” Her voice was weak, as if she was not accustomed to using it. “I would like to spend some time with my daughter.”
Your heart ached at the Lady of Autumn’s words, even though you knew they weren’t entirely genuine. You missed your own mother so terribly, that hearing someone else refer to you as their daughter was bittersweet. 
The servants obediently trailed out of the room, closing the door behind them. You bowed your head respectfully, and when you met her eyes again you nearly crumpled. Gone was the Lady’s mask of boredom. It was replaced by one of sadness and pity, as if she were looking at a younger version of herself in the mirror. Lucien had told you about the horror his mother had endured under her husband’s cruelty, his stories making you shudder. How ironic it was now, that you were to be subjected to the same fate it seemed.
“Greetings, (Y/N),” She said. “I am the High Lord’s wife, Lirilla Vanserra. It is a pleasure to meet my son’s bride.”
A single tear fell down your cheek. The heavy fabric of the dress was stifling, and your lungs felt like they weren’t getting enough air. But you were too tired to properly cry. You had weeped for the first few nights, and it seemed your body was drained. All you could do was stand there numbly, letting that singular tear make its way down your blotchy skin.
“It is an honour to meet you, my Lady.” Your words did not feel like your own as you spoke them. “And a blessing to be engaged to your son.”
The look that Eris’s mother gave you was one that could only be described as utterly heartbreaking as she said, “Oh my sweet, I think we both know that is not true.”
You were taken aback by her bold words. Every time you had seen the Lady of Autumn this past week it had been like catching a glimpse of a ghost. She had never spoken, keeping her head down and scurrying around like a frightened mouse. While she still seemed frail, her bluntness surprised you. Perhaps Beron wasn’t the one who taught Eris to put on a mask.
“It’s alright, we may speak freely here.” Lirilla said, as if she could read your expression. “The guards at the door are loyal to me, and the ears of this castle do not reach this corridor. May we sit down?”
You nodded, following your future mother-in-law to the edge of the bed. She sat down elegantly, smoothing her skirts with the poise of a female ready for her appearance at court. You, on the other hand, were less graceful, pins stabbing you as you tried to collect the white skirt.
“That is a lovely dress,” Lirilla said. “Is it to your liking?”
“Yes.” You said. “I’m just not used to this much skirt and heaviness. I pray I do not trip on my way down the aisle.”
The Lady’s expression darkened, melancholic sadness shadowing her face. “I am sorry,” Her voice was quiet and hushed. “That you are to be wed to the cruellest of my sons. I do not know how you ended up in this situation, but it is clear that this marriage is against your will.”
You frowned. “The High Lord did not tell you my circumstances?”
Lirilla smiled sadly. “My husband does not tell me most things. And I suspect yours won’t either. Malgorm was, is, the most difficult of my children. I did my best to raise him to be a good male, but like almost all my other sons, he fell into the clutches of my husband too easily.”
“All except Lucien?” You asked tentatively, unsure if you were overstepping. A grave expression crossed her face for a moment, the pain of her youngest son’s banishment from her court evident.
“He told me about you, you know.” Lirilla’s russet eyes were glazed with the memories of the past. “That's why I came to see you. I had to make sure it was the same female that Lucien had befriended all those years ago. How is your family doing, my dear? Is your mom still baking for the local schools?”
Your heart sank, both at the memory of your family and the fact that Lirilla was so cut off from the events of the outside world. “They’re all dead,” You said solemnly. “Hybern attacked my village, and I was the only survivor.”
Her eyes widened with shock. You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to tell her everything as you remembered Azriel’s words. Begrudgingly, you knew he was right – as much as you wanted to break down and tell the Lady of Autumn everything, it was too risky. The less people who knew the better, and while the female had survived Beron’s cruelty for this long, you couldn’t bring yourself to be selfish enough to burden her with the knowledge of everything else that got you into this situation.
“I am terribly sorry,” Lirilla put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I wish I could say that things will get easier, but they won’t. Not with Malgorm. I do not wish to scare you, but I will not sit by and let you go into this marriage blind. Malgorm does not treat females kindly, including me. He will humiliate you, and cause you pain in more ways than one. I will do what I can to shield you from it, but I cannot stop this and for that I am sorry.”
You shook your head, fiddling with a pin in the white skirts. “No, I cannot ask that of you, my Lady. This suffering I am about to endure is mine to bear, and mine only. Please, do not put yourself in harm's way to try and protect me.”
Another devastatingly sad smile pulled at Lirilla’s lips. She gently reached up and stroked your cheek. “Oh, my love. I am in harm’s way every day in this castle. That will not change. You are to be my daughter, my first daughter. I may not be able to stand up for you, or even spend much time with you outside of stolen moments like this, but that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you however I can.”
Your voice cracked as you spoke. “I don’t want to marry him.”
“I know. But outside of this room, you must face it with a stiff lip. Any sign of reluctance will be punishable. Give Malgorm what he wants. He always gets what he wants in the end, and trying to resist does more harm than good. It is unpleasant, but that is the safest way to handle him.”
You shuddered at her words. You knew that she meant more than just fetching the male his afternoon tea, and your stomach churned. The breath you took trembled from effort to not cry. How had everything come to this?
“Oh honey…” Lirilla gently pulled you into her, wrapping her tiny arms around your trembling body as you let out a muffled sob. “Growing up, I always wanted a daughter. Yet now I have grown to fear the day I get blessed with a daughter-in-law, because I cannot bear to see this vicious cycle repeat over and over again for centuries.”
You cried into your mother-in-law’s arms, letting her warm embrace chase away the chill in your bones. You knew that once you were married, Malgorm would likely not leave you alone unsupervised, especially with his mother. This might just be your only chance to receive some sort of wisdom and comfort from the Lady of Autumn, so you held onto her tightly and let her stroke your hair.
“It’s ok, my child.” She soothed. “Be strong. If you are hurt, have one of the servants seek out the healer Doreah. She will be able to take the pain away and heal internal damage while ensuring the external wounds can still be seen by Malgorm. Should you need access to a safe place, take the first stairwell on the left all the way down into the basement. There is a library there with food, fresh clothes, and anything you need. The guards around it are loyal to me and will cover for you if your whereabouts are questioned. Nobody except for me and my most trusted staff knows about that place. I have had it glamoured by an old friend so that if anyone sees you going down the stairwell, it looks like you’re headed to the female-only bathing area. Not even my husband or Melgorm would follow you there.”
You felt Lirilla gently ease you out of her grip, sitting you upright. She pulled out a handkerchief and gently dried your face, muttering a spell and erasing all evidence of your crying. “I can hear Malgorm coming to visit you,” She whispered urgently. “Remember everything I’ve told you.”
The Lady of Autumn pulled away from you just in time as the door swung open, the uninvited visitor not even bothering to knock. Lirilla’s kind, pitying look had swiftly been replaced by her submissive, passive mask. She stood up hastily at her son’s arrival, bowing her head. “Malgorm,” She muttered, keeping her eyes on the floor. “It is bad luck to see your bride in her wedding dress before the–”
“Quiet.” Malgorm snapped at his mother, and she flinched as if she had been struck. You wondered how much of it was an act, and how much of it was genuine fear of her son. Malgorm’s amber gaze fixed on you greedily. “I don’t give a shit about such stupid tradition. I should be able to see my wife whenever I please. Now get out, father wants to see you.”
Lirilla nodded, gathering her skirts and hurrying past him like a ghost. Her feet made no sound on the floor as she left the room without a hint of a glance back. You were nervous, left alone with the cruel Vanserra brother. But you stood up and bowed your head, trying to mimic Lirilla’s submissive demeanour.
Malgorm made a disapproving sound as he eyed up your dress with disgust. “My father wants you to look pure and traditional,” He scoffed. “To have as much of your body covered up as possible. If it were up to me, you’d be walking down that aisle with your tits and cunt on display for everyone to see.”
Your face burned at his words, and you swallowed the bile in your throat and spoke as sweetly as possible, “I shall do whatever pleases you, my lord.”
Malgorm snickered, his dirty hand coming up to roughly yank a lock of hair out of your face. “That you shall. Luckily for you, this wedding is about pleasing my father. So you will be nice and covered up until the event is over.” He chuckled darkly, his hot breath fanning across your face as he leaned in too closely. “But the second it is over, you belong to me. And I will rip this pretty dress to shreds and stuff that tight cunt of yours every hour until you are bred. Understood?”
You nodded, even as the room swayed around you. “It will be a great honour to bear your child, my lord.” The words felt wrong on your lips, like oil had been poured in your mouth and choked you as it slid down your throat. You were saying what you had to say to keep him happy, you reminded yourself. Nesta and Eris would stop the wedding before it got to that point. Eris had reassured you that even Malgorm would respect the High Lord’s wishes to wait until you were wed to him to bed you, but you couldn’t help but wonder if Malgorm was unhinged enough to do it anyways.
“I expect you to give me sons.” He said coldly. “If you dare curse me with a daughter, I will tear her from the cord and feed her to my brother’s hounds before you can even see her face.”
You swallowed thickly, fear making the hair on your arms raise at the image. You wondered if Eris had built a reputation that was so cruel his brother was sure he would have no qualms about letting his hounds murder a newborn child. The thought made you shudder. You knew Eris had to play a role to survive his father’s court, but you did not know how far he would go. And while you trusted him, that did not erase the inkling of fear.
“I shall pray day and night that the Mother blesses me with sons.” You managed to get the words out without stuttering, which you were happy with. Luckily, Malgorm seemed satisfied enough with you answer.
“Excellent.” He said smoothly, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a sharp knife. Your blood ran cold. “Now, let’s play.”
 *********************
You couldn’t be bothered to try and wipe the blood off your stomach. You had no energy, no strength to even curl your naked, bloody body up into a ball against the cold chill of the room. Your wedding dress was neatly hung up in the corner, Malgorm having been smart enough to get it out of the way before he went to work.
Your body stung with every cut from his blade. Most were shallow cuts that would heal in a day or so, but by the Mother there were so many of them. Your skin felt shredded, like a ruined canvas suffering the wrath of an angry artist. Malgorm had delighted in slicing his blade across your skin, avoiding your hands and face – the only parts of your body that would be visible in the wedding. You could still feel his wet mouth and tongue sliding over the wounds like a venomous snake, the sensation making you want to rip your ruined skin from your body.
Luckily, the male had obeyed his fathers command and not tried to fuck you. He kept his hands away from your centre, seemingly content to ruin other acceptable parts of your body instead. No doubt he wanted everything down there perfect and intact for the wedding night.
A soft shadow grazed your fingertip. It curled up your arm like a ribbon, coming to your face. It seemed to whisper words you couldn’t understand, especially in your lifeless state. “Az…” You murmured, his familiar scent on the small shadow that seemed to inspect your body.
A few moments later, you felt a presence standing over you. “By the Mother…” Came Azriel’s shocked voice. “What did he do to you...”
The shadowsinger emerged from the darkness, leaning down to inspect the dozens of wounds littered across your skin. His hazel eyes were filled with horror as a scarred hand grazed a cut on your collarbone. You watched helplessly as his eyes trailed down to the significant pool of blood beside you that trickled from a deep wound in your stomach.
Right where the letter ‘M’ was carved below your belly button, a few inches above your core.
You couldn’t bring yourself to care about your nakedness in front of the shadowsinger. Malgorm had already begun to strip you of your dignity anyways. But Azriel quickly grabbed the blanket from the end of your bed, gently wrapping it around your body and hoisting you upright. You winced in pain. “We have to stop meeting like this, shadowsinger.” You croaked. “With me being tortured and all.”
Azriel snorted. “Stop getting yourself into these situations then.”
“Couldn’t help it.” Your reply was weak, but earned a slight twitch of the spymaster’s lips, a hint of a smile. “How’d you find me?”
Shadows skirted over your skin, their gentle coolness soothing the sting of the wounds and making you sigh in relief. “I was meeting with Nesta and Eris,” He answered. “She could feel something was wrong… through the bond. Eris sent me to see what happened.”
You frowned. The shadowsinger never stumbled over his words in the entire time you had known him. He already knew Nesta was your mate, so his stutter made you ask, “Why’d you say it like that?”
“What do you mean?” Azriel’s expression gave nothing away, but you could tell something was bothering him.
“What, you don’t like that two females are mates? Is that it?”
The Illyrian departed to your washroom, fetching a damp cloth as he responded. “No, no, Mother above, no. I take no issue with that and you know it.”
“Then what is it?”
Azriel sighed, a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead as he returned and knelt down beside you. He carefully pulled back the blanket, revealing the bloody ‘M’ on your stomach. He pressed the wet cloth to the wound, gently cleaning it. “Something happened,” His tone was cautious, as if he wasn’t sure how much to say. “Between Nesta and Eris. It’s changed things slightly. They’re still trying to figure out how to end the engagement between you and Melgorm but… it’s difficult.”
“How so?” You frowned, trying to sit up straighter only to get gently pushed back down by Azriel. “What do you mean?”
He sighed. “Gods, I really do not wish to be involved in this little love triangle.”
“Well too bad,” You snapped, ignoring the sting of your wounds and fixing him a glare. “Because you already are. So tell me.”
“I can’t decide if you’d be the worst interrogator in Prythian or the best.” Azriel grumbled, moving the cloth to begin wiping down the wounds on your left arm.
“Stop dodging the question.”
“It’s really something they should be the ones to tell you–”
“For fuck’s sake, if I have to march out of this room bloody and naked to find Nesta and Eris so help me I will actually do it.”
Azriel glared at you, snarling. “You’re fucking insufferable, you know that?”
You shrugged, tilting your head and waiting for him to tell you exactly what happened. The shadowsinger let out a sigh, and began cleaning your other arm as he spoke. “Remember how you said that Estelle mentioned Nesta had more than one mate, but Cassian was not one of them?”
You nodded.
“I guess that really is true, because a mating bond snapped for her the other day apparently. Between Nesta and Eris.”
Your jaw went slack. You couldn’t describe the emotions that rushed through you at Azriel’s words. It wasn’t the surge of mately jealousy you expected, nor was it anger per se. Sure, Nesta and Eris were a strong political match, but mates? The thought had never even crossed your mind. But it made sense, in some wicked way. Nesta and Eris had similar magic, and could both hold their own in a court of vipers. Perhaps they truly would make strong offspring, which you supposed was the main reason mates were created. Or so you had been told.
Azriel’s brow was furrowed at your silence. “You don’t seem surprised.”
You shrugged, trying to calm your racing mind. “Not entirely. Better it be Eris than someone potentially worse. It will work well in their favour, I suppose.”
The spymaster’s normally unreadable face was riddled with confusion. If you were not in pain, you’d have laughed at his expression. He shook his head, continuing to dab at the wounds on your chest as he spoke. “I do not understand,” Azriel continued. “When the bond snapped between Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and I could barely look at Feyre without him snarling at us. I may not have a mate, but I know mates are supposed to be utterly possessive of one another. Why are you not enraged that your mate has another bond?”
You sighed. Azriel would never truly understand – it was obvious that a mating bond was something he desired greatly. For Nesta to have not only one, but two mating bonds surely brought him discomfort. And truthfully, while you were certainly experiencing a whirlwind of emotions at the new information, none of them were associated with anger or jealousy. 
Love comes in many forms and unexpected ways, your mother had once told you. Those words had stuck by you all these years, and growing up in Spring had exposed you to all different kinds of relationships. Males had courted males, females had courted females, and you had often heard stories of an individual having multiple courtings, all of which was done with nothing but love, devoid of possessiveness or jealousy. 
“Nesta is someone who has not experienced nearly as much love as she should,” You began, meeting Azriel’s hazel gaze. “She is my mate, and nothing will ever change that. There is nothing she can do that will make me love her any less. But I don’t believe the amount of love an individual can receive should be restricted to one person. If Eris is her mate and can grow to love her, what kind of mate would I be to want it denied from her? Nesta deserves all the love that the world can offer her, and if that comes from both me and Eris then I do not see how that could be a bad thing.”
The Illyrian was quiet for a moment, his shadows swirling around his neck as if they, too, were deep in thought. “You make it sound so simple.” He said after a minute. 
“Because it is. Nesta and Eris had a connection before the bond snapped into place. They are good for each other, and you know it. You just need to get past your one sided hatred for the male and see it.”
Anger sparked in Azriel’s face. “And what about Cassian?”
“What about him?”
“He loves Nesta. You claim that the Mother… Estelle… told you that Cassian was not one of Nesta’s mates. But there is something between them, both he and Nesta know it. He loves her.”
You curled your fingers into fists, nails biting the sweaty flesh of your palm. “Cassian is no concern of mine.” You snarled at the shadowsinger. “He is for Nesta to deal with. And he is not in love with her, he loves the idea of being with her. You aren’t a fool, Azriel. Every interaction they have turns into a battle, with Cassian making it his mission to push her buttons and disrespect her boundaries. Can you truly look me in the eye and tell me that they are a better match than Nesta and I? Or Nesta and Eris?”
He opened his mouth as if to instinctively defend his brother, but nothing came out. “Thought so.” You continued. “If Feyre and Rhys were not mates, you all would not be pushing for Nesta to be with Cassian as hard as you have. You act like she has to become worthy of his love, as if he is some perfect male. He’s 500 years old, quit making excuses for him and his shitty behaviour.”
Azriel put the blood soaked cloth down, gently pulling the blanket back over your shivering form to cover your body once again. You pitied the male slightly, guilt creeping in for the position he had gotten himself into. You knew Azriel had been loyal to Rhysand for five centuries, and it was clear that this was the first time he felt truly torn. 
“If Cassian and Nesta are not mates, then why did Rhys make such a statement?” Azriel asked, turning his body so he sat beside you. A giant wing gently grazed your blanket covered shoulder, as if to provide some sort of comfort. “Does he truly believe they are mates, or was it a lie? I cannot think of why he would lie about something that big.”
“I can.” You snorted, earning an eye roll from Azriel.
“I will not deny my brother’s horrid actions,” He protested, voice edged with anger. “But he loves Cassian, and lying to him about the mating bond–”
“Would be a way to try and lure Nesta back to the Night Court.” You interrupted the shadowsinger. “A means to control her, and convince her to stay.”
Azriel shook his head, scarred hands fiddling with the hilt of his dagger. “You don’t understand. You know Nesta, but I know Cassian. He’s been acting like a male whose mate has been taken from him. His behaviour is erratic and unreasonable, more so than he has ever been. I cannot think of an explanation for that aside from a mating bond, (Y/N). Besides, he can feel her somehow. There’s something tying them together.”
“I believe the Mother more than your High Lord. If she says that Cassian is not Nesta’s mate, then I believe her.” Truthfully, Azriel’s confession about Cassian’s mood lately unsettled you, having lined up with Emerie and Gwyn’s note about the general being unhinged. You had to admit, they sounded like the actions of a distressed mated male. Azriel was right, something was tying them together. You just didn’t know what.
“Regardless, that bears little relevance to the situation currently.” The spymaster said, echoing your thoughts as he steered away from the uncomfortable topic. “You are set to be married to Malgorm by the end of next week. Nesta and Eris are to be wed soon after. Eris is coming up with a plan to stop your wedding, and I suspect killing his father as well. There is no chance that he will be able to defy Beron and end your engagement and get away with it. Beron has to be eliminated, it is the only way to ensure your safety.”
You felt ill. Killing Beron was something you hadn’t thought of as much in light of the problems of the foreseeable future. It only doubled the risk of everything, trying to execute two life-altering plans within such a short window. You didn’t even know if he and Nesta were ready to take on a High Lord. Sure, they were incredibly powerful fae, but Beron had centuries of experience on them. He was cruel, but not stupid.
Eris was risking his entire plan to become High Lord to ensure you weren’t made to marry his cruel younger brother.
Shadows wisped around your face, as if they could hear your thoughts. Beside you, Azriel remained stoic, but spoke softly. “Eris cares about you, too.”
“Sometimes I think I understand him, and other times I feel like I could not be more wrong.” You sighed, tightening your grip on the stained blanket. “He’s a male whose actions are driven by his own secret agenda. I understand how helping Nesta fits into it, but me? Helping me is a courtesy, a generous one even for him. I… I don’t understand why he’s risking so much for me, unless it’s all because Nesta is his mate too.”
“There might be more to Eris Vanserra than I could have ever imagined. Whether that is for better or for worse, I do not know. I will not lie, it makes me uneasy that your fate will be in his hands. But for some reason you have trusted him this far. Time will tell if that trust has been misplaced.”
Deep down, you knew it wasn’t. Perhaps it was because you shared a mate with him, a commonality that would keep you united no matter what. Or perhaps it was that foolish part of your brain that fancied the eldest Vanserra brother from a distance, who had teasingly called you his little fox on the rare occasion he ran into you with Lucien. 
You shivered as another chilly gust of wind seeped into the room through the cracked window. It soothed your still stinging wounds beneath the blanket, but you wrapped the fabric even tighter around you. “Whatever Eris is planning, I hope it works.” You mumbled.
“Me too.” Azriel said dryly. “For all our sake.”
 *********************
You tried to keep your breathing steady as you stood on the second step of the dias below Beron’s throne. Grand torches lined the red and gold carpet leading up to the throne, illuminating the tapestries lining each wooden wall. 
It had been mid morning when the servants flooded your room, scrambling to get you ready for an appearance in court. When you frantically asked what the fuss was about, you were surprised when you received an answer.
“His Grace has received an unexpected visitor,” The oldest of the servants said in a hushed tone. “You and your betrothed are expected with the rest of the family to greet them.”
It had taken less than five minutes for your hair to be done and your dress to be fitted properly before a set of guards had escorted you to the throne room. Upon entering, you had snuck a glance at the other figures on the dias. Lirilla stood left beside the seated High Lord, her head bowed and hands clasped in front of her. Eris and Nesta were on Beron’s right, one step below. Both adorned royal outfits in similar shades of red, each wearing an almost identical mask of boredom. Nesta’s arm was linked through Eris’s as a formality, but you noticed how tense she was. Her breathing was shallow, as if being in such close proximity to Eris was too much. Luckily, it appeared to be something only you noticed. To everyone else, they appeared the stone-cold politically arranged couple they were meant to be.
You had tried to reach out to Nesta through the bond, but were met with a wall of stone. You tried not to let it sting as she shut you out, choosing to focus on keeping your expression neutral as you held onto Malgorm’s arm the same way Nesta was with Eris’s. It felt wrong, and every part of you wanted to recoil at his touch. Your skin still felt flayed from the events of last night, but as predicted the dress that Malgorm undoubtedly chose for you this morning covered up all evidence of his actions.
So you fought through the pain, ignoring the sneering looks of Beron’s other sons whose names you did not know. You were almost grateful when harsh words from the High Lord threatening punishment to his offspring put them in line.
The tension in the room was thick. You hadn’t dared try and look back towards Nesta and Eris, not with Beron breathing down your necks. It was only a few minutes after the Vanserra family had gotten in formation when the heavy doors to the throne room opened, and the High Lord of the Night Court strode in.
Your mouth went dry. Your mind flashed with images of that forsaken dungeon, the dark tendrils of the High Lord’s power carving through your skin like butter. Was he here to snatch you away? Piercing violet eyes landed on you as Rhysand approached the foot of the dias, swarming with a mixture of fury and confusion. Nevertheless, he bowed his head to Beron. “High Lord,” Rhys said smoothly. “You are looking well.”
You weren’t fooled by the feigned respect. Luckily, Beron wasn’t either, and you heard the male scoff. “Do not bother yourself with false pleasantries, we both know you don’t actually mean them.” Beron said coldly, his aged voice echoing through the throne room like the power of an ancient god. “Give me one reason why I should not execute you for entering my territory without permission.”
Rhys straightened his shoulders, cocking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he met Beron’s words with a cool tone. “Last I checked, meetings of diplomacy were still favourable between two High Lords, were they not?”
“And yet you have no excuse for the uninvited part.”
“I fear my concerns were too urgent and important to notify you in advance.” Rhys’s voice was saccharine, a veil to disguise his true intentions. On a younger, more inexperienced High Lord, it may have worked. But once again, you found yourself strangely grateful for Beron Vanserra. The older male saw right through his words, and would not be afraid to challenge him.
“And what is so important you had to barge in on my court uninvited?” Beron growled, the flames from the torches along the carpet flaring slightly.
Rhysand’s face was smug, and he looked at you directly as he spoke. “You have in your midst a valuable asset of mine. I want her back.”
A cold pit formed in your stomach as you met his stare evenly, despite your bones trembling beneath his gaze. You were right – Rhys had come to spin some lie about you that was designed to make Beron hand you over to the Night Court. You were a fly trapped in a web, and your hand clenching nervously around Malgorm’s arm was not entirely for show.
“Do explain.” Was all the High Lord of Autumn said in a bored tone.
“The female standing at the bottom of the dias belongs to me. Your eldest son infiltrated my court and kidnapped her on the full moon. He is holding her here against her will in a pathetic attempt to hold leverage over me. I ask that you punish Eris Vanserra for his insubordination and return Lady (Y/N) to me, so I can bring her home where she belongs.”
Your blood ran cold. Rhys wasn’t just trying to get you back, but Nesta as well. He wanted to take down Eris in the process, which would force Beron to not only send you back to the Night Court, but Nesta too since the engagement would be broken off and she would have nothing tying her to Autumn. Panic began to stir inside you. This couldn’t be happening. You braced yourself for Beron’s wrath, demanding Eris be brought to the dungeons for immediate questioning.
But instead, the cruel male just laughed. A bitter, hoarse sound like a broken instrument. “That was a pathetic excuse of a story, even for you, Rhysand.” Beron said, making the Night Court Lord blink in surprise. “Not even well crafted. How dare you come into my court and attempt to manipulate me?”
You heard Beron rise in his throne, and the torches began to flare angrily as the High Lord’s temper rose. “I am no fool. I know that you are only here because you’re desperate from losing your spy that had valuable intel on you. A spy who fled your clutches seeking sanctuary with me because of what you did to her.”
“I did nothing.” Rhys said, which angered Beron even more.
“You lie again! I am well aware that the girl was trained as a spy against her will to repay her debt to you. You were an immature fool to trust a prisoner to spy for you, which is one of the many reasons your court is run so poorly. I saw the wounds you inflicted on her, boy, when she found out you planned to take the title of High King.”
Rhys’s expression revealed shock for a split second, the loss of composure making you laugh internally. You hadn’t expected Beron to defend you so vehemently, especially against another male. But you still clung to every breath nervously as he continued to speak.
“Have you not considered that this information she so eagerly gave you might be a ploy to get you to wage war on my court?” Rhysand said carefully.
“So you admit then that your story was false?” Beron had impressively backed Rhys into a corner, catching him in his lie. “That she was indeed your spy turned rogue?”
Rhys had the nerve to shrug. “All that matters is that she is a member of my court, and I demand you release her to me.” He kept his tone neutral, but you could feel the desperation coming off of him in waves.
“My daughter is no longer a member of your court.”
Rhysand’s face blanched visibly at Beron’s words. He went utterly still, even the pulsing aura of power that always seemed to be around him quieting. His violet eyes found you again, but you kept your chin high. He glanced down at your arm entwined with Malgorm’s, who was no doubt smirking proudly at Rhys. It was strange, hearing Beron refer to you as his daughter. 
“What?” The High Lord of the Night Court said quietly.
“As a reward for her bravery in fleeing your grasp, and for the useful information she so willingly provided us with, I have given her the honour of marrying my son Malgorm. She is my daughter now, and you will not take her from me.”
You felt an invisible hot flame on your arm, undoubtedly the power of the High Lord. It beckoned you, pulling you towards the throne where he had seated himself once again. Malgorm had seemingly felt it too, for he guided you up the steps to where Beron sat. You looked into the eyes of the High Lord for the first time. His hair was slicked back identical to Malgorm’s, but faded to an ashy grey in contrast to his son’s fiery red. His sharp face took you in, amber eyes glowing like a snake in the dark. He extended a hand towards you, fingers clad in rings more expensive than everything your village in Spring had owned put together. You smiled as you took it, ensuring you looked grateful. To further paint the image of Beron’s new daughter, you lowered your head and gently kissed his aged hand as a sign of respect for your father-in-law. 
Beron looked at you proudly, pulling you closer so you were standing right next to him. His hand was clammy and his grip was ironclad, but you showed no signs of resistance. Malgorm took up his post slightly behind you, an arm on the small of your back in a display of ownership.
Rhysand’s mask had slipped entirely as you stared defiantly down at him, disgust and shock written all over his features. He had not even given Nesta and Eris a second glance, his fury towards you overriding his diplomatic practices. But you did not feel frightened, not with Nesta, Eris, and especially Beron in the same room.
Nothing would happen to you. Beron would protect you for his own selfish reasons, but it was reassuring nonetheless.
“My eldest son did not kidnap the girl.” Beron said coldly, his grip on your hand never faltering. “The day you claim it happened, Eris was assigned to meetings with my courtiers from sunup to sundown, all of whom can act as witness.”
You pushed down your confusion – Eris was most definitely not in meetings that day, and how he had managed to pull this alibi off was something you would have to ask him about later.
Beron continued, authority strong in his voice. “She came to me willingly, and I have welcomed her with open arms. I know who she is – a girl from the Spring Court whom you rescued then used as a pawn in one of your little games, only for her to outsmart you in the end. Never again will my daughter fall into suffering under your hands, Rhysand. If you try to do anything to harm her or remove her from my territory, I will burn your entire court to the ground. Just as I will do if you ever think of claiming the title of High King of Prythian.”
Beron spat the title out, his power filling the room. “You are an immature boy playing games you don’t understand,” He continued dangerously. “And any attempt at seizing lordship over this land will be met with the slaughter of everything you hold dear. I will erase your name from the history books, and there will be nobody left to remember Amarantha’s Whore. And if you think any of the other High Lords would bow down to you, your arrogance is even more stupid than I thought. Now get out of my court, half-breed. And do not return.”
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111 notes · View notes
jeannineee · 11 months
Note
ITS ERIS AND CANDLE WAX ANON HERE LMAO AND I COME WITH A REQUEST!!! MATING PRESS AND MAJOR SIZE KINK WITH ERIS??? BC IK THAT MAN IS SO FUCKING TALL AND I AM 5,1 AND HE COULD SPLIT ME IN HALF
Take It
Eris Vanserra x Reader
a/n: anon I love you for this. This may have also turned into a slight breeding kink thing too so my bad.
Requests are open <3
nsfw under the cut (18+ please)
Eris was relentless. Each of his thrusts had his cock kissing your cervix, stretching your over-sensitive walls. He put almost all of his body weight onto you, pressing your knees into your chest.
“Fuck, you take me so well,” Eris muttered under his breath, watching his cock slide in and out of you. “This pretty little cunt was made for me.”
You whimpered, your walls fluttering around him in response. He towered over you, his large hands holding your legs tight enough to bruise as his thrusts grew more forceful.
“Gonna fill you up, fuck you full of my cum,” he grunted out, bringing his hand toward your clit, circling the sensitive bud.
Your head tipped back in pleasure, eyes screwing shut. “T-Too much,” you breathed, your tummy tightening as your orgasm drew nearer. “Eris, too much, oh!”
Eris’s hips continued roughly snapping into yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “You can take it,” he said, abs tightening as his release built. “Be a good girl and come on my cock.”
The coil inside you snapped, your body shuddering underneath him as he fucked you through your orgasm. Eris continued thrusting, a string of curses falling from his lips as he saw the milky ring forming at the base of his cock. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight, baby. Fuck,” Eris swore, spilling into you with a groan.
Eris stayed buried inside you, his warm breath ghosting over your face as the two of you came down from your high.
Eventually, he slowly pulled out, cursing as he watched his seed drip out of you. Your legs fell slack at his sides, red marks covering your soft skin. Eris traced over the marks, as if admiring his handiwork, before lifting you into his arms, starting for the bathroom.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”
305 notes · View notes
icey--stars · 1 year
Text
Something New
Eris has a new idea for the bedroom for Azriel, and Azriel wants to be his good boy.
↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣
Day 6 of @azrisweek 2023 (NSFW)
a/n: AH! this is the one smutty one we have and GODDAMN. the kinks just kept coming up ya'll. i couldn't stop them. so anyway...
WARNINGS/TAGS: NSFW CONTENT! MINORS DNI. sub!Azriel, dom!Eris, choking, bondage, toys, praise, daddy kink, edging– bASICALLy, this is VERY smutty and very dirty. enjoy lmao
↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣
“I wanna try something new on you tonight baby,” Eris said, even as Azriel shoved him up against the bedroom wall and leaned in heavily to crash their lips together. Eris shut up instantly as Azriel practically choked him with his tongue, moaning into the kiss. Azriel swallowed up the choked sound, groaning with pleasure. His body was already alight with energy. But Eris had other plans, it seems, as he wrapped a hand around Azriel’s neck and pushed.
“What,” Azriel mumbled, trying to lean back in to kiss his mate. Why did Eris always try to stop him-
“I have something new I want to try on you tonight,” Eris told him, tightening the hand around his throat. Deep within Azriel, there was a spark of part of him he didn’t let out often. Eris had been the only in history who could coax that part out of him. The part that told him to drop to his knees and whine for the touch of his partner and beg for it with “please”’s at varying points of desperation.
Azriel stopped pushing for a kiss, panting as he stared up at Eris. “What do you want to try?” He asked, a bit suspicious.
Eris pulled something out from behind his back. Azriel’s face flushed bright red as his mate pulled a large butt plug out, holding it in front of him so he could observe it. “I want to tie you up,” Eris’s voice was rougher and more… dominant. “Then I want to put this where I know you want it, and then ride you into oblivion until you’re begging to come.”
Azriel’s face flushed an even brighter shade of red and he audibly swallowed. “What makes you think I’m going to let you do that?” He tried for an air of dominance and control, but it was quickly fracturing.
Eris smirked, already knowing he’d won. “Because you want to be a good boy for me,” the male stated, lifting an auburn brow in challenge.
Azriel’s mind short-circuited on the pet name and he swallowed again before leaning forward to rest his head on Eris’s shoulder as he began rapidly nodding.
His mate chuckled. “Aw, look how desperate you are,” Eris taunted, tightening the hand still on his throat. Azriel couldn’t help the whimper that escaped him and the immense wave of arousal that threatened to make his knees buckle.
“Get on the bed,” Eris ordered sternly.
Azriel pulled away from Eris, bee-lining for the bed in the middle of the room, climbing onto it and trying to ignore the press of fabric rubbing against his cock. He laid on his back, pinning his wings against his back– but he trusted Eris completely.
Eris followed, picking out a bottle of oil from the bedside table’s drawers before putting both the toy and the oil on the bed and climbing over top of Azriel, who was shaking by now.
“You remember our safeword?” Eris asked gently, leaning down over Azriel, bracing himself on his forearms so he could whisper into his mate’s ear. Azriel nodded.
“Words,” Eris ordered, balancing on one forearm to slide a hand around Azriel’s neck.
“Yes,” Azriel let out in a rush, nodding. He bit his lip on the “please” that tried to slip out. He wasn’t going to beg this early into the game.
“Good,” Eris purred and kissed him, squeezing his neck slightly. Azriel felt lightheaded with everything happening. His cock was beginning to hurt from where it was still trapped in his leathers. He jutted his hips up desperately, letting out a whine when Eris dropped his weight onto Azriel to keep him still.
“Be good,” Eris growled as he pulled away from Azriel. “Your pleasure is mine.”
Azriel nodded. “Sorry sir,” he whispered. Eris’s pupils expanded at the words and he smirked wide.
“What was that?” Eris prompted, rubbing his thumb along the side of Azriel’s neck.
“I’m sorry,” Azriel repeated.
“No, not that. What did you say after that?”
Azriel swallowed and whispered, “Sir.”
“Say it louder.”
“Sir!” Azriel said quickly.
Eris grinned like a fiend and released his neck, rising up so he was kneeling above Azriel. “Good boy,” Eris praised. Azriel shuddered. 
After a moment of Eris just watching Azriel, he asked, “How do you feel about ropes tonight baby?”
Azriel blinked and was so overcome with a wave of arousal he let out a whine, closing his eyes and leaning his head back into the pillow while also desperately jutting his hips up for any sort of friction.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Eris purred, and got off the bed again.
Azriel turned to look at him, feeling heavy and aching in multiple ways.
Eris got back on the bed a moment later, holding a length of silk rope in his right hand. Azriel shifted his wings into a more comfortable location but only ended up whining for a whole other reason. He was so sensitive right now. Even the slightest touch to his wings from the sheets had him tensing to hold back his climax.
And Eris looked overjoyed to see it.
“Now now,” Eris placated. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now. As I said, your pleasure is mine. If you move your wings again, I might just have to tie them up too.”
Azriel whimpered, staring at Eris desperately. He needed his touch or he was going to die.
Luckily, Eris seemed to understand and connected their lips. Azriel groaned as Eris’s tongue pushed into his mouth, running along his teeth and tangling with his own tongue. Azriel tried his best to reciprocate, but Eris was ravishing him. 
Azriel felt his hands being maneuvered above him and then silk rope being wrapped around his wrists loosely. He whimpered as Eris pulled away to focus on tying his wrists to the bed frame, leaving him helpless.
Eris finished tightening the ropes and Azriel tested them briefly, finding very little give. He was stretched out for his mate and he couldn’t be happier about it.
“Hmm…” Eris hummed while gazing down at him like some sort of god on a throne. “Do I need to tie you up more or can you control yourself?”
Azriel’s eyes were hazy and his eyelids were heavy with arousal, but he managed to look up at Eris, if even just to ogle his mate’s physique. “I’ll be good sir.”
Eris smirked and leaned down to kiss him again. Azriel was overjoyed by the action, groaning into Eris’s mouth. It was bliss. That’s what this was. Utter bliss and trust and need.
“I need you sir,” Azriel panted when Eris pulled back. “I need you.”
Eris reached down, swiping a hand over his inner thighs. “Aw, you’re going to have to be more specific than that, baby. Tell daddy what you want.”
That name sent Azriel higher than the clouds. It was brought out so rarely, as rarely as Azriel released all control to his lover, but it always made his cock leak, which was exactly what it was doing right now. It was also aching horribly. He needed Eris to touch him now.
“Please touch me daddy,” Azriel begged. “Please.”
Eris looked down at him for a moment with a gentle look, and Azriel thought he was about to deny him before he moved his palm up from his thighs to lightly grasp his cock. Azriel lets out another desperate sound of need, arching his hips off the bed for more.
Eris shot him a look and Azriel realized his mistake as Eris pulled away again.
“No, no, no,” Azriel murmured. “I’m sorry daddy. I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I’m sorry. You just feel so good.”
Eris gave him a small look. “Don’t do it again, baby, or I’ll be forced to punish you.”
Azriel nodded, forcing himself to relax and stay still for his lover. Eris smiled at his eagerness to please and reached down to take a hold of his dick again. Azriel stiffened, but didn’t move.
“Good boy,” Eris purred and gently began to move his hand.
Azriel let his head fall limply back onto the bed at the sensation. It was euphoric and almost too much for his frazzled senses, but he felt amazing. Eris leaned down to continue kissing him and he wouldn’t be surprised if he exploded right then.
When Eris pulled back, he reached over to the side of the bed where Azriel knew rested the bottle of oil from before. Azriel resisted the urge to shift his hips downward when he felt an oiled finger trace down his crack.
“Good,” Eris praised. “You trying to be good for daddy?”
Azriel nodded immediately, watching Eris with hazy eyelids. “I’m yours,” he said.
Eris’s eyes briefly darkened. “That’s right baby,” Eris purred. “You are mine. All mine.” Eris suddenly leaned down to begin to mouth at his neck and chest. When he bit, Azriel let out a keening noise.
After that, Eris didn’t stop with the sensation. His hand had moved away from his dick to balance and hold his other hand’s fingers right around his rim. He mouthed at Azriel’s skin, leaving marks and then on one particularly hard bite, he pushed one finger past Azriel’s rim. Azriel had to hold himself back from pushing into the feeling to get more of it. He needed to be good. He needed more.
Eris began gently thrusting that finger until he could fit a second. When he curled them inside, Azriel felt a wave of pleasure and he almost screamed.
“Aw, did that feel good baby?” Eris mocked. “No cumming until I say you can.”
Azriel let his eyes fall short as he panted harshly, letting out moans every few seconds as Eris continued to stretch him on his fingers.
When Eris abruptly pulled out, Azriel made a whimpering noise, opening his eyes to see why Eris had stopped and stopped dead when he saw his mate lathering the plug with oil.
“Be good,” Eris warned when he saw Azriel’s muscles bunch like he was about to move. Azriel was so close. He was so unbelievably close that only tensing every muscle in his body seemed to hold his release at bay. It was utter bliss to let go like this, let his mind go only to the pleasure and trust of his lover.
“Gods,” Eris groaned. “You look so beautiful like this. Spread out for me, tied up and helpless. You’re just letting me make you feel good, aren’t you? Such a pretty good boy.”
Azriel’s mind was so hazy that the only response he could form was just a moan as he attempted to keep his body still.
“You’re so desperate you can’t even form words,” Eris chuckled manically. “Look at you… so perfect. All mine.”
“All yours,” Azriel managed to grit out.
“Is that the only thing you can say?” Eris asked. “Just that you’re all mine? Just all those pretty moans, whimpers and whines and then the fact you’re mine.”
Azriel nodded and Eris moved the plug down to his hole, and began pressing inside. He threw his head back onto the bed, pulling at his bonds to either escape or get closer to the heady sensation.
“My perfect boy,” Eris whispered, closer to his ear now. “You want me to ride you baby?”
Azriel had forgotten that part already, but at the reminder, he was utterly fucked. He was already so close just like this, and if Eris rode him… oh he was so getting a punishment.
The widest part of the plug pushed into him and he keened at the feeling, whining high and needy. Eris released it as he squeezed tight around the conical shape within him, only proving to stimulate his own prostate and further overwhelm him with the utter pleasure.
Azriel briefly saw Eris swiping more oil and kneeling over Azriel’s crotch, so close to touching him, but not. Azriel felt so needy. He wanted to rub against Eris and make him feel so good, just as euphoric as he was feeling right now.
“Let me touch you,” he begged. “Please. I wanna touch you. Let me make you feel good.”
Eris looked up briefly, smirking. “You take what you’re given,” he said firmly and let out a little breathy moan as he stretched himself.
Azriel pulled at his bindings just to see if he could get free and turn them over to do what he wanted with his mate. Still, there was little give and Eris was too good at tying people up, apparently, to let Azriel escape. 
“I told you what I’m going to do,” Eris said. “And you’re not going to change my mind.”
Azriel groaned in defeat, but it quickly turned into a moan as the slight movement shifted the plug from where it was inside of him. Gods, it was overwhelming in the best way. It was keeping him on the fine edge. He wasn’t going to last long.
Eris suddenly pulled his hand away from where it was behind him, shifting a little more forward so Azriel’s cock was aligned with his hole. Eris got a little more oil and pumped Azriel a few times, causing him to groan and tense his muscles to hold back from moving.
“Gonna make me feel good, Az?” Eris panted, his own cock swollen with a red tip that was dripping profusely. Azriel smiled briefly at the fact he was affecting his mate as much as Eris was affecting him. “You’re going to stay still like a good boy so daddy can feel good.”
Azriel whined and nodded rapidly.
“Tell daddy how much you need him,” Eris ordered. “Tell me how much you want me to sit on your perfect dick and fuck myself on it.”
“Please.” Azriel was barely coherent and he felt so good. “Please sir. I want it so bad. I wanna make you feel good. Please. Please- please pleasepleaseplease-” His voice broke as Eris aligned his dick and began to sit down.
Azriel groaned with Eris at the feeling. He felt so used but it felt so good. He had a plug stuffed inside of him and his mate sitting down on his cock. It couldn’t get better than this, he decided.
As soon as Eris’s ass made contact with his hips, Eris’s head dipped down to kiss him. It was perfect. Everything was perfect.
“So perfect,” Eris muttered against his lips and then briefly lifted himself up only to slam back down with a moan. Azriel groaned, trying his best with his limited movement to suck at Eris’s neck.
Eris groaned and sat up so he could move easier. Azriel watched, enraptured by the sight of his mate sliding up and down his cock.
Azriel moaned as a particularly rough movement shifted the plug inside of him. 
“Gonna cum, baby?” Eris asked.
Azriel nodded, eyes closing, needing to feel the bliss of releasing the pressure inside of him. Needed to fall off that edge.
Eris immediately stopped, sitting fully against Azriel’s hips. The male in question immediately groaned defeatedly, pulling at his bindings to try and get Eris to continue moving.
“Please daddy,” Azriel moaned. “Please. I’ve been good. Please let me cum.”
“Not before me,” Eris growled and began to move again. “Be good.”
Azriel keened as Eris continued to slam himself down. Eris was so warm and the plug inside of him was sending him higher than the clouds. Higher than he could ever hope to fly.
Eris suddenly leaned down to grind in deep and as if he’d read Azriel’s mind, he put a hand around the top edge of his wing, gripping tightly.
Azriel let out a startled moan, opening his eyes to beg Eris silently. He wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer if he kept touching his wings.
“Almost there baby,” Eris panted. “Be good for your daddy.”
Azriel groaned. “Can I move? Please let me move.” He asked. If he could move and thrust his hips up into Eris and angle to hit his special spot that he had memorized by now… Eris would cum immediately.
Eris seemed to be losing his own sanity as his eyes briefly closed. “Alright baby,” he allowed. “Move. Make daddy feel good.”
Azriel immediately thrust his hips up. However, he didn’t account for the plug still buried within him again. He moaned loudly as he thrust into Eris’s warmth, with the plug pressing against his prostate while Eris still grasped his wing. He was falling apart. If Eris didn’t cum soon, he would say to hell with the punishment.
Eris moaned as Azriel continued to move, and one hand moved from where it braced him against Azriel’s chest to grasp his own cock and began rapidly pumping it. Azriel sent a brief thanks to the Cauldron for not making him hold on any longer.
As soon as Eris’s cock began to spew white, Azriel let out a scream at the added pressure around his cock and the squeezing grip around his wing (even with a little bit of Eris’s nails digging into the membrane) and came.
He felt euphoric. So blissful. So happy and so utterly comfortable. Distantly, felt hands smoothing down his sides and wrapped around him briefly in a hug. A gentle kiss was left on his lips, but didn’t block his rapid panting.
Auburn hair brushed against his chest as he began to slowly come down from his high. He groaned briefly at the feeling of cum drying on his stomach, but settled when he met those familiar amber eyes of his mate.
Eris hissed as he lifted himself up and away from Azriel. One hand went between his legs and then the plug was being pulled out gently. As soon as the bindings around his wrists were released, Azriel turned into his mate’s chest to hide his face.
“You okay?” Eris whispered.
Azriel just nuzzled further into him.
“Az?”
“I’m tired,” Azriel groaned.
Eris chuckled, bringing his hands up to pet through Azriel’s hair. “Let’s go take a bath baby, then you can sleep.”
“Cuddles,” Azriel protested.
“I know you want cuddles, baby,” Eris said, “But we can cuddle in the bath while getting clean.”
Azriel groaned, but it was a good idea. “Fine,” he allowed, but didn’t move. He just wrapped his arms around Eris tighter.
“Come on baby,” Eris said more forcefully, pulling away from Azriel. “Bath time.”
Azriel groaned as he rolled over to the edge of the bed, standing on shaky legs. Eris immediately supported him as he stumbled slightly.
“Did you like that?” Eris asked curiously.
Azriel nodded tiredly as his mate turned on the water.
“Can you use your words?”
Azriel lifted his gaze to look at Eris, seeing some slight insecurity flickering there. He smiled briefly and then tugged Eris by his hips to hug him again, resting his cheek on Eris’s side. “My brain still feels hazy. That was fuckin’ perfect. I felt so good. You’re so good to me. I love you.” The mixture of thoughts might’ve not been completely related, but they seemed to ease Eris a lot.
“Yeah?” Eris said in a teasing tone. “You liked me tying you up?”
“Don’t,” Azriel murmured in warning as he felt more arousal spark in his nether regions again. “I’m tired.”
Eris scoffed, chuckling softly. “Alright baby. Get in the bath.”
They got in the pleasantly warm water and lazily washed each other off before getting out. Eris sent a brief flare of power to dry them off, leaving Azriel feeling warm as he slid his legs into a pair of boxers before he climbed into the bed.
He was so damn exhausted that by the time the bed dipped under Eris’s weight, he was already asleep, but awoke briefly from his floating by his mate coming back to bed.
Eris pulled Azriel’s head onto his chest and began to pet through the hair at the base of his neck gently while kissing his temple.
“Sleep baby,” Eris murmured.
Azriel curled himself a little more around Eris with an arm over his stomach, a leg thrown over his mate’s and a wing over both of them before he passed out.
The last thought he had was about how much he loved Eris. It was a lot.
↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣
TAGLIST (see post for getting added)
@bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @ladylokilaufeyson5, @marina468, @bubybubsters,
(please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged in Azris Week or if you'd like to be tagged!!)
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lazypanartist · 1 year
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Bullied! Reader x Giacomo Headcanons
I saw one of these, couldn't stop myself! Might also be drawing Gia in the school uniform but you can't prove anything
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Warnings: spoilers, mentions of bullying, probably OoC, no beta, not necessarily canon compliant
Notes: set ~1.5 years before the main story, I've been feeling Very Bad™ the last few days, so it's kinda disjointed I think
-----
It's not uncommon for bullying to happen at the academy
It's ALSO not uncommon for the teachers to ignore it
You yourself had seen it happen..
Popular people like Eri beaten down as someone new came by
Ortega getting bullied for his family's wealth, how "easy" he must have it
You, though?
You were in the majority
People being bullied for their interests..
Or for being "weird"
Mela for her attitude
Atticus for his obsession with ninjas, as well as his craftsmanship
And Giacomo for his interest in music
Books slapped out of hands, items swiped off desks
Name calling and harassment followed you wherever you went
But you weren't the only one
You were approached with the idea of Operation Star by Eri one day, after a bad bout of bullying
Of course, you were all too eager to accept
It wouldn't have done you any good to turn it down
And besides, who doesn't want to get back at their bullies?
So, you were in
Modified school uniform? Check
Fancy shades? Check
A cool pose? Check
A catchy sign-off? Check
All set!
You met Giacomo at the execution of Operation Star: the pushback against the bullies of the Academy
He just laughed when he saw you with Eri, offering you a grin and a hand
He pulled you onto his Starmobile before turning his attention back to the plan
Glancing towards you every once in a while as the cowards fled the area
The operation didn't take too long, and the newly minted Team Star rolled out into the night
---
It didn't take any convincing for you to join Segin Squad
Giacomo welcomed you with open arms
While Eri sat laughing at how obvious he was being
He asked you to help him run the squad
Help train newbies
Recruit other people you'd seen get bullied
And go on supply runs into Cascarrafa out of uniform
Whenever the squad bosses had to meet up on their own, he trusted that you'd keep the base running in his stead
All in all, a great relationship built on trust even before a confession
He shared his love for music with you, having you rate new tunes before he showed them to anyone else
Wasn't hard, with you by his side almost all the time
In turn, he'd listen to your interests, lending an ear and some praise
Honestly s2g Mela and Ortega already thought you were dating at this point
Atticus is the biggest shipper lmao
---
Giacomo definitely confessed first
He'd been hiding a new song from you for a few days, saying he wanted to perfect it instead of letting you listen to the WIP
Not too incredibly surprising, but he was putting a lot of effort into making sure you couldn't hear it
The grunts outside his tent alerted him every time you came over, instead of parting to let you pass
He snapped his laptop shut every time you came near him
AND he wouldn't let you scroll through his playlists!!
At all!!!
After about two weeks of this, he had another of the grunts find you and direct you to his tent
He almost sheepishly handed you his headphones, making sure they were settled on your head before he pressed play
The intro started similarly to the Team Star theme, then dropped
(IDK the specifics of music or it's making, so. Bare with me please)
He made sure to include similar structure and rhythms to ones you had pointed out in his other work
At the end of it, instead of an encore, his voice sounded from the headphones
"Y/n, I've been meaning to tell you for a while, but.. I like you. As more than a friend or right-hand man. Would you be willing to be my partner?"
You took off the headphones, smiling at him
And that was all the answer he needed
---
Bonus:
Mela and Ortega had to give Eri and Atticus money.. both had bet on you two already being together
Atticus called it puppy love, while Eri just laughed and said you would've told her if you had been dating
Which is how the bet came to it's conclusion
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Note
What do you like the most about eris ?
That they still put up with me 🥹
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snailsaxophone · 1 year
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Team Star and Their Love Languages
Giacomo
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I think his love language would be words of affirmations
He’s self conscious, especially after what he did as student council president. Everyone outside of team star were really mad at him
So basically, he’s nervous about what everyone else thinks of him especially as a team star admin.
Just a simple “You’re doing a great job!” or something is enough to perk him up on the worst of days
It really helps to reassure him that nobody hates him lmao
Ortega
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Gifts lol
Before coming to team star, he was used to being pampered with gifts and whatnot
But after joining, he never really got any gifts besides his birthday and christmas. It really hurt him, was he not worthy of gifts anymore?
It doesn’t have to be anything expensive by any means. Something as simple as picking him up a candy bar while you’re shopping will make him so happy
It’s really the thought that counts with him. For all the artists out there, if you make him anything he will absolutely treasure it.
It’s just a gentle reassurance that someone still loves him. It’s a little taste of home, if you will
Atticus
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Quality time 100%
He often likes to go out with you, even if it’s just to class or to go shopping
PLEASE sit by him while he’s sewing. He really enjoys your presence
On that note, be prepared to be a mannequin. He’s gonna make a ton of clothes for you, and he’s gonna make sure the fit just right
I think because of the way he dresses and acts he never really had anyone close to him. His team star friends are the closest people to him, but since they’re stationed at their respective bases he doesn’t see them often
Because of all that, he gets quite lonely. He will treat you only with the upmost respect while he’s with you too. You need a drink? He’s already on it. It’s a bit too cold? He’s turning on the heat and grabbing blankets
I love him so much
Eri
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tbh kinda struggled with this one, but i think she goes well with acts of service
Eri appreciates the little things in life, so she notices the little things more often then not
If you give her flowers she’ll cry. Please give her flowers she deserves them sm
Show up to her wrestling tournaments and she’ll win just for you. You showing up is all the motivation she needs
And of course, just doing daily chores lifts a big burden off her back. She’s used to being the responsible, caring one, but it’s nice to sit back once in a while
Even just looking after the other team star members makes her love you
Mela
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Physical touch
She’s another touch starved pokemon character.
I think she’s used to shutting herself out, being cold and tough. But really, she needs a big hug
Just holding her hand makes her blush, she really enjoys it
Cuddling? Absolutely. Soft Mela is very healthy for the soul
I absolutely love Mela if you couldn’t tell
A/N : This wasn’t written to specifically be romantic, it’s cool if you view it that way but i know everyone has different age headcanons and whatnot so i didn’t want anyone to be uncomfy with that. So please read this however you like!
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iwasthewind · 7 months
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Hi
I feel like Monoma was the mouth piece for people who actually raised logical and important questions pertaining to the class 1A and other stuff. Notice how he's quickly shunned, ridiculed. mocked at and used as a gag every time he is onscreen. It's like Hori is more than AWARE of what he's doing so he's using one of his characters to represent people like us to insult and shut us up and tell us to think like the rest, that including his cast of characters and the majority of this god forsaken fandom. When it comes to Hori, I cant separate the art from the artist at this point. What do you feel?
To be honest, I don't think Hori meant for that to happen- at least not at first. The Monoma that was introduced in the Sports Festival arc is a bit difference from the Monoma in more recent arcs.
I think Hori genuinely liked Monoma at first, and wanted to set him up as a minor character that would challenge bkg (it was never about Izuku, was it?) and showcase his growth.
But Monoma received so much hate from fans because he spoke against class A that Hori chickened out and turned him into a gag lmao
I do think Hori (kind of) likes Monoma since he gave him a (kind of) major moment in the war, as well as showed him comforting Eri. Even so, it's clear that he doesn't care about Monoma enough- the asspull after asspull Shiggy & Gang™ keep performing have turned Monoma's efforts effectively useless and everyone's forgotten about him, again :')
I do think you're right, though. Although Hori didn't intend for it to happen, he quickly turned Monoma into a manic mouthpiece for the people that have valid, rational criticisms against some of the things in his story. And you're right, the way he's treated and immediately shut down, even by his own friends, despite being right... if I were Hori, it'd feel pretty damn cathartic lmaoo. Hori comes off as so insanely petty sometimes sighh
Also, the fact that Monoma's not present in any of panels in which Class A and Class B hang out? Hori knows what he wrote Monoma as and that's the reason he can't let Monoma see Class A as just people. Monoma's an empathetic person- he understands people well and cares very deeply for his loved ones. Imagine if he saw Class A as just themselves! Not caricatures he angrily imagines in his head or the way they're painted in the news. He'd feel awful lmfao, and he'd end up liking most of class A. Even so, he'd still hate bkg, and Hori isn't going to let Monoma single bkg out.
It still doesn't mean Monoma's just a mouthpiece though- he's still his own character, he just also serves as a convenient prop sometimes.
Also, kind of irrelevant but can you like imagine Monoma's reaction if he heard of how Class A treated Izuku when he tried to run away from them in his Vigilante arc? Izuku's motivations, while self sacrificing, were noble. The way he was?? Aggressively smacked down and restrained?? I don't recall exactly what happened because there was no Monoma in those panels but I can remember my rage when I read that 😭
As for bkg's "apology..." I'm not even going there pfft
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deusvervewrites · 1 year
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League Saves Eri: I need an elaboration. Will it have enough fluff to drown the angst, or will it's angst rival the angst of the most depressing games, games with so much angst that it's community is a complete 180 from all the angst?
Class One x All For Classroom x Homeroom Teacher Miruko x Homeroom Teacher Torino x Star For All x Weaponmaster x Hero Twice: DIOS MIOS THERE IS 40 OF THEM.
MSRA: imagine in a far, far future where the quirked animal threat has been quelled, if not fully quelled, a last ditch effort would send humanity into space, some 'hero' decides to get rid of the old world mechas in one fell swoop by sending a series of trojan horse transport ships into the docks of the HQs of the most prominent companies that produce mechas, and while that is happening, that same 'hero' is having a press conference declaring that the old world is needed no more, and that he believes the new world should outlaw old world mechas, as they are now irrelevant to future of the new world.
UA University: considering that the MLA is the main antagonists by the start of Izuku's first year, what kind of moves (that isn't political), would involve UA that would antagonize them?
i looked at the Future [character] AUs in the masterlist and Future Shigaraki sticks out like a black sheep with it's long description lmao. Future Aizawa AU's is like a grey sheep compared to Future Shigaraki lol.
League Saves Eri: Well if you ignore that they're all wanted criminals who teach her how to be a criminal when she grows up, it's very cute found family fluff.
Class One x All For Classroom x Homeroom Teacher Miruko x Homeroom Teacher Torino x Star For All x Weaponmaster x Hero Twice: Only 40?
MSRA: Is there a reference here that I'm missing
UA University: Possibly trying to get the school shut down to make it harder for Heroes to learn from more reputable places while simultaneously cutting Nedzu's influence
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kosi-annec · 11 months
Text
[BNHA] Season 4 episode 6
Ah yes, all four students with hero work studies going out at the same exact time going the same way, must be pure coincidence!
"whatever is happening, must be big" no shit sherlock
Dragon lady is so used to nejire's antics, she sounds like a mom lightly scolding her child lmao
"some bad guys planning to do some bad things" for kirishima, that's all he needs to know lol
HSKSHSKS im sorry but the centipede's voice was not what i was expecting LMAO
I kinda agree with lock man, like, yes they are hero students, but they're still just highschoolers. But then again, they're pretty useful assets for the plan
HSKHSKS fatgum don't think this is the time for being so cute lol
Fatgum ya also didn't need to make it sound so dramatic, ya made it sound like he lost his quirk forever
PFT omg kiri is absolutely clueless
Ah... There it is, miriko and deku be feeling guilty, but at the time they weren't aware, and really what they did was the best option they had. They couldn't risk taking eri away, that would then start a fight with overhaul, and it was just the two of them
EYO LOCK MAN SHUT TF UP, THEY'RE JUST STUDENTS, NOT TO MENTION THEY COULDN'T RISK A FIGHT WITH OVERHAUL SO SHUT YO ASS UP
God, the image of overhaul's bird mask thing opening up and covering eri, like its bout to eat her whole. Straight up physical manifestation of her trauma
I agree with nighteye, information is key to success, and right now they don't have enough, they're not even sure where he's hiding her
Ah... nighteye just doesn't want to see a person's future with the possibility of them dying, cuz it's been stated that his predictions are never wrong
AAAAA DADZAWA!! 😭 HE KNOWS HOW IMPORTANT THIS IS TO DEKU HSKSHKSHS
Gsap! Eri in the parts after the outro!
Bitch she's literally being abused, how tf do expect her to relax in the same place she's being practically tortured in
HHHHH AAAAA ERIIII 😭
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jeannineee · 10 months
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HEYYY ITS ERIS AND CANDLE WAX ANON AGAIN LMFAO WOULD U BE WILLING TO WRITE AB PEGGING ERIS??? HE IS A SWITCH THAT COMES OFF SUPER BRATTY BUT THE MINUTE U TEASE HIM HE IS WHIMPERING AND I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL LMFAO I LOVE UR WRITING TEHEHEH
Not So Tough
Eris Vanserra x Reader
a/n: I am forever referring to you as “candle wax anon.” Your requests are some of my favorites lmao. Anywho!! Requests are open!!!
Nsfw under the cut (18+ please)
“Where’d that attitude go, baby?”
You straddled Eris’s waist, eyes darting to the restraints that kept his wrists bound above his head. Your hands skimmed down his chest, his abs, trailing closer and closer to…
“Oh, fuck,” Eris groaned as your fingertips ghosted over his cock. You swirled your thumb over the precum beading at the tip, before stroking him a few times. Eris swore, hips lifting off of the mattress, seeking more contact.
You withdrew your hand, and Eris whined at the loss.
“Please,” Eris mumbled, straining against the restraints. “I need you.”
You sighed, tracing a single finger along his shaft. “Not so tough now, hm? Just needed to be fucked, is that it?”
Eris only whimpered in response.
A contented hum left your lips as you grabbed the lube from the nightstand, smearing a generous amount onto the strap you were wearing. Eris watched, cock twitching in anticipation.
You lined yourself up with his entrance, and halted. Eris huffed impatiently, trying to grind against you.
“So needy,” you tutted.
“Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Fuck me, please.”
You entered him in one slow motion. The sound that fell from his lips went straight to your core, fueling your arousal. You set a steady pace; watching Eris closely, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
“So good,” he breathed, moaning loudly as you wrapped your hand around his cock again, stroking him in time with your thrusts. “So fucking good.”
Eris’s breath was already growing shallower, his abs tightening, both telltale signs of his impending release. “Look at you,” you mused, thrusts growing more forceful. “Gonna come for me already, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Eris babbled, crying out your name as he finished, spilling thick ropes of cum onto his abs.
You eased out of him slowly, murmuring words of praise as Eris came down from his high. You deftly removed the restraints around his wrists, rubbing the sore skin for a few moments, before allowing his arms to fall lax at his sides.
You tossed aside the strap, rising from the bed to grab a cloth from the bathroom. By the time you returned to clean him, Eris was already asleep.
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