#after he killed Beron of course

[nocasdatsgay]

The reason Eris isn’t allowed in Velaris is cause Nesta would have took him home once during her ✨escapades✨ and it would have been over for Cassian.

#I’m sorry that art I just reblogged rewired my brain #IT WOULD HAVE BEEN OVER FOR THE IC #he would have took her to Autumn and pampered her like a princess #after he killed Beron of course #this is a joke btw #neris #I want to jump to the part they fuck in my story like now #acotar

[yearning-for-autumn]

So, here is my humble request 👀:

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

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

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

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

I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻

Would That I -- Part 1

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

Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader

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

Word Count: 3,638

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

Part 2 Part 3

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

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

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

Rhysand cleared his throat.

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

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

His brow furrowed.

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

He loosed a breath.

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

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

“Yes.”

“Is Cass--?”

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

“Ok.”

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

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

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

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

You scoff.

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

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

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

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

“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.

Rhysand sighed.

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

---

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

You sat up worried.

“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”

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

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

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

You snuggled up to your eldest brother.

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

Azriel tucked you under his arm.

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

Eris rolled his eyes.

“Just show me your plans, Ash.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Asher sighed,

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

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

“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”

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

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

“She is my mate.” Eris growled.

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

Disgust.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Would that you could be half as lucky.

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

---

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

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

“Eris will be there.” You said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s the magic word.”

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

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

#eris x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #autumn answers #autumn writes #eris smut #eris angst #eris vanserra #eris vandaddy #azriel shadowsinger #night court #rhys acotar #rhysand #cassian acotar #cassian #cassian x reader #rhys x reader #azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel acotar #azriel #fanfic #writing #enemies to lovers #angst #acotar smut #smut #eris acotar #eris headcanons

[parkerslatte]

Unspoken

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of Beron’s torture. mentions of nightmares.

Summary: Eris had been in love with his best friend for centuries. After a long, tiring day of his duties as High Lord, he just wants to sleep. But he would rather listen to Y/N talk to him more.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The moment Eris entered his own private chambers, he immediately shrugged off his jacket and let it fall to the floor. Next were his shoes, he kicked those from his feet and dragged himself to his large bed in the centre of the room. When he was near it, he allowed himself to fall, landing on the soft mattress and pillows. He always knew that being High Lord would be time consuming. But he hadn’t realised how long he would need to be on his feet all day. Eris was sure that he had only been allowed five minutes to rest his feet before he was demanded somewhere else. All he wanted was rest.

Eris closed his eyes and begged his body to drift off to sleep. Of course nothing came of it. Despite the fact that his father was dead, killed by his own two hands, Eris could never fully settle. Afraid that if he closed his eyes, his father would rise from the shallow grave Eris buried him in and come after him. For months, Eris was constantly plagued by that nightmare, his only reprieve from it was–

“Eris!” A voice called through the door. “Are you in there?”

A soft smile fell upon Eris’s face. “Yes, my dear.”

The door was pushed open and in walked Y/N, Eris’s best friend for the past few centuries. Since becoming High Lord, Eris had finally allowed her to enter his chambers for the first time. Always wanting to keep her out in case his father ever got the wrong idea and would use her to make him obedient. Now he had a hard time keeping her out of his chambers. She always demanded that they were much nicer than hers. 

“You will simply not believe the day I have had!” Y/N exclaimed, falling next to him on the bed. 

Eris moved to lay comfortably on his back and turned his head to look at Y/N. Her hair was simply a mess, sticking up in nearly every direction. Eris chuckled at the sight. “Tell me about it.”

Y/N huffed. “Well when I got to the shop, there was a vile woman already waiting outside demanding to be let in, insisting that the shop hadn’t opened on time. Even though I had written a note, with large bold letters I may add, fixed to the front door that explained that I would be opening an hour later than usual.”

“She sounds awful,” Eris commented.

“That’s not all!” Y/N exclaimed. “When I let her in, she said that the bread I baked was not fresh enough, even though I put an enchantment on it to make sure that it was, and demanded that I make a fresh batch just for her. I don’t have the time for that! I am the only one working at the bakery and there was a large line forming.”

“What did you tell her?” Eris asked.

He had now turned on his side and watched as Y/N told her story, her hand gesturing wildly. Ever since he had met her when she worked as a chef in the kitchens, he had always loved the way she emphasises her speech with her hands. Often when people noticed it she would try to stop, but not around Eris. Never around Eris.

Eris knew that their friendship was unexpected, he hadn’t expected it himself. But after she was sent by his mother to give him food when he was extremely ill, Eris had simply loved her since then. She never cowered away when he glared at her and tried to intimidate her. She never backed away when he spoke cruel words about her job and her station. She didn’t even leave when he dismissed her. She had stayed and asked him what was the matter and that was when the facade Eris constantly had up vanished. No one had ever asked him that before. The softness in her voice, the understanding. It was something Eris had never experienced. 

After that it was always quick yet playful glances in corridors. The occasional nudge when brushing past one another. And when Eris had endured another beating from his father, he would make his way to the kitchens. And remain with her. Those few days after the beatings, Beron never expected Eris to make an appearance anywhere so he could be in the servants quarters without the threat of his father coming after him.

Eris remembered the first night he had spent with her. They had only known each other for a few months by that point so Eris hesitated before knocking on her door. He knew that she had a room to herself, it was the size of a shoebox but Y/N was grateful for her own space. When Y/N brought him inside and cleaned the wounds on his back, Eris finally allowed himself to break down for the first time in a long time. Y/N only held onto him, soothing him, as he cried and let everything out. Not once did she complain. 

Even when he fell asleep in her arms, Y/N did not complain, she only held him closer. That following morning, Y/N never made him leave, she simply stayed with him the whole day. She took his mind off everything. She made him smile. She made him laugh for the first time in years. It was so easy to fall in love with her. 

And he was still in love with her. Even after a few hundred years. 

“Eris?” Y/N said, nudging his arm. “Are you still listening?”

Eris smiled. “Yes, I’m still listening. What did you tell her?”

Y/N laughed. “Well first I threw the bread at her and told her to stick it up her–”

“Y/N,” Eris said, laughing loud. “You are going to lose customers.”

“I’ll be glad to lose her,” Y/N said. “She was a prick.”

Eris continued to chuckle as Y/N turned onto her side facing him. His hand twitched to reach out and pull her against his chest. It was all he wanted to do. 

“Why would you burden me with running a whole bakery?” Y/N questioned.

Eris rolled his eyes. “I did not burden you. I remember you begging me to buy the building when it was planned to be torn down. And I keep suggesting that you hire more people but you never listen.”

“Isn’t that your job?” Y/N questioned. “Since you bought the building?”

“I gave ownership to you,” Eris said. “It is legally your business and, therefore, your job to hire people.”

Y/N sighed. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a business where other people depend on me. The thought terrifies me. And what if they don’t like me, what then?”

“It would be impossible,” Eris stated.

“Me as someone’s boss? Because I agree.”

“No,” Eris said, his voice soft. “People not liking you. You are impossible not to like.”

Something flashed across Y/N’s eyes but it was gone before Eris could even place the emotion. 

“You mean that?” Y/N asked.

“Of course I do,” Eris said, swallowing hard. “You are the easiest person to like.”

It is why I fell in love with you, Eris thought. The words he was never brave enough to say. 

Y/N smiled and Eris swore his heart skipped a beat. “Thank you Eris.” Her tone was sincere and far from her usual light hearted and playful tone.

“I could always help you,” Eris said. “In the bakery.”

“Eris, you have enough duties here. You already look ready to pass out and the sun hasn’t even gone down,” Y/N said. “And why would you want to spend any more time with me than you already are? I’m sure you are sick of me already.”

“I could never be sick of you,” Eris said. “You are my best friend, Y/N. I will always want you around.”

Best friend. Those two words Eris hated. Y/N was more than his best friend. She was the light of his life. The reason he woke every morning. The reason he breathed. She was a part of his soul even if she didn’t know it. Eris was so inexplicably in love with her that nothing else mattered when he was with her. 

Something akin to disappointment flashed on Y/N’s face before it was gone in an instant. “Well you are my best friend too, Eris.”

Eris forced a smile upon his face. She was laying next to him on his bed, yet she still felt so far away. 

“I should be letting you rest, I can tell that you have had a long day,” Y/N said. “I don’t think you want me bombarding you with stories from work.”

“I enjoy your stories.” Eris’s voice was quiet and pleading. Pleading with her to stay for just a moment longer. 

The smile on Y/N’s face was small but Eris wanted it tattooed onto his brain. “Perhaps tomorrow,” Y/N said.

Disappointment surged through Eris as his hope subsided. Y/N leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “I will see you tomorrow Eris.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” Eris replied, his voice unusually quiet. 

Y/N slipped from his bed and left the room and left Eris alone once more. The silence was almost deafening. If it weren't from the heat on his cheek from where Y/N had kissed him, Eris was sure he would go insane.

Eris did not even bother to chance into more comfortable clothes, he didn’t even bother to get under his covers. All he did was pull his pillow closer and close his eyes, his mind filled with images of Y/N before drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

#eris vanserra x you #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra fluff #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra #eris x reader #high lord eris #eris acotar #eris vanserra x reader

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Where The Shadows Dance - The Bodyguard (ii)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER II: The Bodyguard

SUMMARY: The Night Court must decide who shall remain to protect the Daughter of Autumn, while also getting to know the princess with a fiery soul.

WARNINGS: More misogyny! yay! mentions of alcohol, tw: beron (we all hate him its ok), people talking shit behind y/n's back, probably swearing i can't remember (also i just swore in the warning so like... it's possible), daddy issues!

NOTE: once again special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for reading over my work! <33

WORDS: 2K

Sitting in the quarters Beron had assigned to the Night Court guests, the inner circle debated how to approach this situation they had found themselves in. 

One of them was to play bodyguard for the Princess of the Autumn Court. Of course, there were many logistics to sort out, ranging from the most obvious one – who would be the assigned bodyguard – to smaller details, such as whether they needed more than one Night Court member to remain in Autumn.

“I’m telling you, they’re a bunch of snakes,” Cassian said firmly. “We can’t just leave one person behind. What if this is a ploy?”

“That is true,” Feyre mused, “but why bother to make a ploy at all? We fought in the war together, and an unprovoked attack against the Night Court would cause another war. And Beron must know that the other courts would be on our side.”

Amren sighed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Cassian. We can’t trust these people.”

Azriel stayed silent, mulling it all over. It was all true — fighting for the same side in the war had brought the courts together, but then again, there were people like Eris and his brothers lurking in this court.

A soft knock on the door prompted everyone to look towards the sound. After a moment, the door opened, revealing Eris, a small smile on his face.

“It is lovely to see you all in a different scenery,” Eris commented after he had closed the door.

“Eris,” Rhysand greeted. “How can we help you?”

Eris went ahead and took a seat in a scarlet chair beside the fireplace, relaxing with ease. Azriel supposed it would be easier to do so now that he was in his own home, but the sight still frustrated the shadowsinger.

“I just wanted to see what you all thought of my father’s… proposition,” Eris said casually.

“Did you know?” Cassian questioned.

Eris shrugged. “I did tell you that it had something to do with my sister.”

“There was an attempt on her life, which you failed to mention,” Azriel stated.

Eris just smiled calmly. “Must have slipped my mind.”

This was exactly what Cassian had been talking about before, Azriel knew. They were cunning and sly in the Autumn Court, and that made them dangerous.

“Anything else that may have ‘slipped your mind’?” Azriel inquired.

Eris turned his gaze to the shadowsinger, a small smirk on his face. Azriel wanted to punch the male, and he remembered the feel of his neck beneath his hands, and how close he could have come to killing the heir before him. He sort of wished he had.

“My father has already chosen which member of your court he wants as Y/n’s bodyguard,” Eris revealed.

Azriel blinked. Despite the fact that Beron had given them the illusion of free choice, of course the male had already decided. After looking at Eris expectantly, Rhysand realised the male would not freely give up this information.

“Who?” the High Lord asked.

Eris glanced at Azriel. “The shadowsinger, of course.”

Everyone looked at Azriel, and the Illyrian wanted to shrink away from the attention. Why him? Yes, perhaps he appeared more gentlemanly than Cassian, as he knew how to keep his mouth shut, but what else? Yes, he was the Spymaster for the Night Court, but Cassian was the general of the armies. Amren terrified everyone, and yes, she’d be more than capable to be a bodyguard, but then again, Amren might kill the princess if she annoyed her.

“Why Azriel?” Rhys questioned.

Eris looked at the High Lord as if he was incompetent. “Is he not the most obvious choice? That one–” he nodded to Cassian, “–has already tainted a female promised to the Autumn Court.”

Rage, icy cold, flowed through Azriel at the implications behind Eris's words. ‘A female promised to the Autumn Court’ was very obviously Mor, and the entitlement in his tone…

“First of all, I have a mate–” Cassian growled, but Rhysand cut him off.

“Let's not argue,” the High Lord said firmly, although silent fury shone in his eyes at Eris's words. “We're all allies here.”

Eris rolled his eyes but said nothing more, and Cassian glared at the Autumn Court heir, clearly imagining all the ways he could rip him apart.

“Didn't Azriel try to kill you at the High Lord's meeting?” Amren mused.

Eris glowered at the female. “Well, we certainly can't have you here. Your mere presence makes the courtiers uneasy.”

“I did save your asses during the war,” Amren reminded him, but she seemed more than pleased that she still terrified people. 

Azriel let out a breath. He had guessed that it would be himself who would have to play bodyguard, but how could he do so when his job was one of utmost importance to the Night Court? Even now, with Nyx only half a year old, there were so many threats that needed to be uncovered and eliminated.

Azriel glanced at Rhysand and Feyre. Both had been reluctant to leave their son behind for a week, but they knew it would be much too dangerous to bring him to the Autumn Court. Nesta, Elain, and Mor had promised to take care of him while they were gone, and Nyx was probably having the time of his life with his Aunts.

What do you think? Rhys asked Azriel, mind to mind.

Azriel pondered his answer for a moment. I would be willing to do it, but to leave you without a Spymaster for the Cauldron knows how long…

I think we can manage for a little while, Rhys replied, a grin twinkling in his eyes.

Azriel nodded his confirmation. It was true — his court members were not truly useless without him. Just slightly disadvantaged, but they knew how to take care of themselves.

“I'll do it,” Azriel said aloud.

Cassian looked at his brother, eyes widened slightly with silent warning. Amren appeared disinterested in the conversation, but Azriel knew she was listening to every word. Eris simply nodded, as if he already knew Azriel would agree.

“Good,” Eris replied. “I will allow you to share the news with my father in your own time.”

The heir then got up and exited the room, leaving the Night Court members by themselves.

“I need a drink,” Amren muttered.

The following week was a whirlwind. Every morning, afternoon, and evening, the Night Court members dined with the Autumn Court, and the Autumn Court members also showed them their home. It was mostly Y/n showing them around the palace and the grounds, with Autumn guards trailing closely behind.

Y/n was a different person when she was not around her father. She was much more talkative, and quick to joke and tease. After a few days, it was clear that Cassian adored the princess and her witty comebacks, and she clearly enjoyed the freedom of banter with him. It was almost as if they were destined to be best friends. But whenever any member of her family was present, she would go quiet, and exhibit “lady-like” speech and actions.

Azriel had heard many of the Autumn Court’s opinions of her through his shadows, and none of them were particularly fond. Wild, untamed, unlady-like, and irritating, were the words most commonly used to describe the princess in secret, but Azriel had a feeling she did not care what she thought about them. He could tell that she only cared what her father thought — perhaps not for praise, but rather in fear of punishment.

“So, have you decided which of you will be protecting me after this week?” she asked the Night Court members as they walked through the Royal apple orchard. The apples were the finest Azriel had ever tasted, and he wondered whether there was some kind of magic behind it to make them so.

“We have discussed it,” Rhysand replied, plucking an apple from a tree and handing it to his mate. Feyre took the apple with a smile.

Y/n sighed deeply. “I wish I could go to the Night Court with you. It sounds beautiful.”

While the Night Court members had told the princess a little bit about their home, the Autumn daughter was an avid reader, and had mentioned that she’d always been interested in The Night Court. She would read any book on their court a hundred times, and had learned about Starfall, Illyrians, and many other Night Court customs. When Rhys questioned her on the books she had read, she had become slightly evasive in her answers.

“I borrowed them,” Y/n had said casually.

Azriel had raised an eyebrow. “Borrowed, or stole?”

The grin the princess threw his way had set his heart racing, but he had no idea why. “I prefer the term 'mischievously possess.’”

Cassian had barked out a laugh, and even Amren had smiled slightly.

But as well as spending time with the princess, Azriel had other things to do. When she showed him the castle, he memorised it. He marked every exit, window, door, hiding place — everything. If he was to be her bodyguard, he would have to have the entire layout memorised. For her protection, but also for his. He didn’t doubt for one second that if he let his guard down, one of her brothers, maybe even Eris himself, would try to stab him in the back. Literally.

Eventually, the week came to an end, and the members of the Night Court gathered in the Autumn Court throne room. Azriel supposed that bonds had been slightly strengthened between the courts, but not by much. Mistrust was hard to get rid of, especially when there were centuries and generations of it.

“We have come to a decision,” Rhy told Beron, his hands resting in his pockets. “And my High Lady and I shall allow you to employ one of my warriors as your daughter’s bodyguard.”

Beron nodded, his gaze flicking to Azriel for a brief moment before going back to Rhys. “And have you decided which warrior shall be protecting my daughter?”

That glance told Azriel that Eris had been telling the truth. Beron hoped that it was the shadowsinger who would be playing bodyguard, and it made sense now. Although what didn’t make sense was the fact that Eris had not lied.

“Azriel shall remain behind to guard your daughter,” Rhys promised. 

“Wonderful,” Beron said with a nod. “Thank you for this, Rhysand. The Autumn Court shall never forget this favour.”

Rhys nodded at the High Lord, and both of them shook hands, their goodbye quick and brief. The Night Court's goodbyes to Azriel were lengthy in comparison.

“Stay safe,” Rhys told Az, clapping him on the back. “Our mental bridge will be open at all times. Let me know if there’s any trouble.”

“You act as if I can’t take care of myself,” Azriel replied, a half smirk on his face.

Rhys rolled his eyes and brought his brother into a hug, the eyes on them be damned. When Rhys pulled away, Cassian was there next, squeezing the shadowsinger into a hug that nearly crushed his bones.

“I’ll miss you, Azzie,” Cassian whispered in Azriel’s ear, which set him scowling. Cassian grinned and pulled away, Feyre replacing him. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek in farewell, and before Az knew it, the Night Court disappeared into the void, leaving him alone in the Autumn Court.

TAGLIST: @honeybee54321 @marigold-morelli @lucky7rosie @itsswritten @paankhaleyaar @bubybubsters @5onedirection5 @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @thelov3lybookworm @blushingfawnsposts @thisiskaylin @morganisheree @sleepylunarwolf @bakananya @bookishbroadwaybish @namelesssaviour @glitterypirateduck @sfhsgrad-blog @ash-mcj @feyres-fireheart @ib525 @azrielswhore @copenhagenspirit @eternallyelvish @teenagellamaangel @thisiskaylin @littleladdty

#azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger x reader #shadowsinger x reader #acotar azriel #x reader #azriel #fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #where the shadows dance #wtsd

[readychilledwine]

Eris Week Day 5 - Dance | Blood Duel

A Brother's Love

Happy day 5 of @erisweek2023. I originally wanted to do a piece regarding his love of dance, but this happened. I feel like Eris would declare a blood duel for one of his siblings, or of course his mother, after seeing the effect Beron has had on Lucien for life, BUT it would take the right motivation since it wasn't part of his originally calculated plan. So, for those of you who love Lyria (My Slow Hands OC), she's back. But you might not like why.

Summary - Eris contemplates his childhood nightmares after his younger sister suffers at Beron's hands.

Warnings - mentions of blood, abuse, Beron.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

Eris had never wanted to have to do this. He had heard stories about blood duels as a child. Those stories caused him nightmares as a young boy about males killing each other off. Nightmares about the golden Lord of Day coming and destroying his family.

He scoffed at the idea of family as he changed out his sister's blood-soaked bandages again.

He knew better now. Family did not do what their father had done to her. A father did not do what Beron had done to his only daughter and sons for centuries. A good husband did not beat and torment his wife into submission.

Lyria had come home to see their mother, per an agreement and bargain she had with the Autumn Lord. She could come home once every 3 months to see mother if, and only if, Lyria came when Autumn called for her, no matter the reason, and she never swore into another court. The key detail of that last part of the bargain had Eris mentally flinching. Lyria was beautiful, kind, and intelligent, but when it came to twisting words and finding hidden intentions, she was not smart. Their fath-Beron had asked that of her to ensure one thing:

No High Lord could interfere with him beating her still.

Her last few visits were calm. Beron had not had an interest in hurting her. He had not shown interest in anything other than her position in Rhysand's court. This time was much different. She had tried to hide the scent of the mating bond well, but it lingered. The scent of the Shadowsinger clung to every inch of her skin, the fine thread of her clothing, her hair. She was constantly glowing in her happiness, basking all of them in the light that only true joy brought her at family dinners by accident. For Eris, it was sobering to see his sister radiating and growing in another court, and in the safety given by a male few would be foolish enough to fuck with.

Tonight, his father proved he was foolish enough. 

Lyria had agreed to dinner with Beron privately. Keeping the peace, she had told Eris as he braided her hair. He allows me come here to see Momma, Eris. I have to appease him a bit.

Eris had heard her screams halfway through the nightly tea he took with their mother. Her eyes had shut slowly as they realized what was probably happening. Guards had barricaded the sons of Autumn and their mother to the rooms they were in making interference an impossible task.

He had paced the doorway, waiting with his breath caught in his throat for her screams and crying to stop. Despite years of their father's torture, Lyria had never learned that Beron wanted to hear her scream. He got off on her pleading, her begging. The High Lord would beat her until she was unconscious and unresponsive. Only then would his fun with her be over.

It had felt like hours for the shield trapping him and his mother to drop, and the guards to specifically move and open that door and that door alone. His mother had run out of the room to her daughter. Eris walk quickly, but calmly.

Eris and she had walked into the throne room to find Beron sitting over Lyria, watching her chest barely rise and fall with a mask of indifference. The beating had been brutal. Beron's hands and face were covered in her blood, and a whip sat next to him, leather also soaked in the red liquid. He had stripped her naked beforehand and held the dress to his wife, smirking as she took it with trembling hands.

Do you think she learned her lesson? Or will I have to kill him, too, wife? She has always been too much like you, you realize that? The question echoed in Eris's mind. It ricocheted as he imagined Azriel and his baby sister dying, holding each other until their last breaths. It resurfaced nightmares of hearing Jesminda's screams and Lucien's wails of heartbreak. 

He sat next to her now. Her three smoke hounds spread themselves along the room, guarding the door and balcony. She was supposed to go home tonight, and when she wasn't on the boarder between Spring and Autumn, claws had instantly gone for Eris's mind.

He had blocked them out hours ago, focusing on Lyria and doing what he could for her. He watched as a shadow came, Weaving itself into her hair, between her fingers, then almost seemed to stop and stare at him. He felt the claws again, opening his mind to them now that he knew she was stable and safe in the confines of his private chambers. 

What happened? The normally soft purr was laced with anger and fear.

Eris sighed deeply. Beron scented out the bond. He's banned healers from touching her. I healed what I could, but there's no safe way to get her to the Night Court. I cannot winnow her like this.

The shadow snuggled into her again, wrapping itself around her hand and making her whimper softly. Azriel cannot get in undetected. The eye roll Eris accidentally allowed himself to do was answer to Rhysand enough. This has to stop before he kills one of you, Eris.

It was the statement of the century, and the heirs' mind immediately went back to the blood duel. Helion had already agreed many moons before this to be his second if he ever declared one, and he knew with the mating bond his sister shared, Azriel would be there as well. 

The gruesome images in the texts of the libraries flashed in his mind again. Males gutted, males impaled, beheaded. Eris moved to Lyria again as another whimper of pain ripped through her throat before a soft sob. "I know, little one," he brushed the hair from her bruised cheek. "I am so sorry. I know it hurts."

"Az," his eyes squeezed shut at how scratched her pleading voice was. "Please."

Can Helion shield my room from the Day Court? Eris held the hand the shadow was not occupying. She needs him. He knew the Lord of Day could. He had snuck into the Forest House countless times. Eris felt the shields come into place moments later. Then the shadow scurrying away before siphoned hands moved him from his sister. 

"I'm right here, my spark. Ssshhh," Eris watched in silence before another hand touched his shoulder and squeezed it, finally understanding how bad the beatings the Vanserra children received were. Rhysand was in shock, anger filling every place in his soul. This was unhinged, and Beron kept it so well hidden until now.

Lyria whimpered again, trying to nuzzle into Azriel before a loud sob came from the movement. "It's okay, my love." Eris had never dreamed of seeing love this pure. He had never imagined Azriel as a gentle attentive lover. He turned away as Azriel uncorked a liquid, knowing damn well it was about to force his sister's senses to fall completely and allowing her to sleep. Knowing damn well the only reason he could not offer her the same comfort was due to him having drank the last of his stash after his last beating.

Azriel moved Lyria as gentlyas he could to force her to take it. "This will help, Lyria. I promise." He filed this into a mental bank. He memorized every soft touch of Azriel's hands on his sister's body, and every whisper cemented into his mind, etching themselves into the stone walls of his shields. He memorized the way she tried to subconsciously move closer to her mate, the way that her skin began to glow as he pressed a kiss to her cheek despite her pain. He'd let the new memories fuel him and serve as reminders and as motivation.

Rhys and Eris finally shared a look. One that indicated Rhysand was not happy. That this was officially so much more than he and the High Lord had planned. Rhysand's family now had a very invested interest in Autumn and the well-being of its most powerful family. "This ends," Rhysand demanded softly. "This ends now."

Eris ran a hand through his hair. He knew now that nightmares of blood duels could have nothing on the reality in front of him. This was the wheel he lived on, the wheel his mother lived on, the wheel his brothers lived on, the wheel Lyria suffered on. The cycle they would continue to rotate through, spinning over and over again, until something finally happened. Until someone was brave enough to say, "Enough."

I think you might even be a good male. A deep voice played in his mind. You're just too much of a coward to act like one.

He had made a mistake with Lucien in a similar situation to this. He took an easier way out, allowing his father to continue to live. To continue to harm them. He had been exactly what Cassian had accused him of, a coward. He could not make that mistake again. Not when Lyria, fragile, gentle, and loving, Lyria would be their father's new favorite target and toy.

"Rhys," he finally said. "It's time. I need to break the wheel."

#acotar #acotar x reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra fic #erisweek2023 #azriel x oc

[sweetcarolina-24]

Scorched Shadows: Pt 2

Summary: Estella is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but everyone knows how that goes. This takes place before Under the Mountain.

Warnings: mentions of beheading

part 1 || part 3

»»————-　♔　————-««

Two years had passed since I'd been in the Autumn Court. I hadn't particularly wanted to go back after my row with Eris.

But Rhys had sent me to meet with one of Beron's sentries, who was undercover and reporting back to us.

I didn't like disappointing Rhys, so I had gone without complaining. He'd always been there for me. He was like an older brother.

While Azriel was the only one truly related to me, I considered Cassian and Rhys to be my brothers as well. And they’d always loved and protected me like I was their little sister.

My shadows were hiding me in the crook of a large tree. I was almost 100% sure these were the coordinates I was given, but he wasn't here yet.

I decided to wait another twenty minutes, then go home if he hadn't shown.

My shadows wrapped further around me as I leaned into the bend of the tree.

The autumn foliage was something I'd never get used to. The beauty of it was exquisite. And the floor of the forest was a mess of red, orange, and brown leaves.

The crunch of the leaves beneath my feet was frustrating while trying to sneak around, but if I were merely going for a walk, I'd have appreciated it.

I was beginning to grow concerned. What if something had happened? What if he'd been discovered and ratted us out?

“You’re not as sly as you think you are, fawn.”

I jumped, whirling around to find myself facing Eris Vanserra, as annoyingly perfect as he'd been the last time I'd seen him. This time, he was donning a brown tunic with a gold belt, and black pants.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” I mentally scolded my shadows.

“Not a threat,” they merely replied.

Before I be informed on why Eris Vanserra of all people wasn’t a threat, I realized he was staring at me like I had grown another head.

“Are they speaking to you?” he questioned, a perfectly groomed eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” I replied smugly, crossing my arms. “What would their purpose be otherwise?”

“To keep you hidden?” he guessed, a smirk on his lips. “Though, they aren’t very good at that.”

I wondered when the small talk to cease and he would turn me in. I could be imprisoned or killed for spying and trespassing.

"I assume you're here to meet with Graham?" he guessed, studying his perfect nails. I masked the sickening shock that coursed through me.

"What did you do to him?" I snarled.

"I didn't do anything," he drawled. "My father, however, had him beheaded an hour ago."

My stomach twisted, threatening to be sick at the words. My shadows confirmed his words, only making me feel worse.

"You are a monster," I hissed at him, glaring daggers at the male.

"I am not responsible for the actions of my father," he snapped, his eyes going from teasing to firm within a second. "Did we not go over this the last time we met?"

"Yes, yes," I recalled, leaning against the tree. "No need to get vicious again."

"Watch how you speak to me," he warned, tilting his head slightly. "I could turn you in very easily."

"You won't," I claimed, shrugging my shoulders. I had no reason to believe he wouldn't.

"And why wouldn't I?" he demanded, stepping closer to me.

My senses were overwhelmed with his scent. He smelled of cinnamon and smoke. Smoke from a bonfire. Not the kind of smoke I remembered choking on as my hands burned and burned and. . .

I desperately tried to think of an excuse, my mind distracted with him so close to me.

“Because, now I owe you a favor,” I replied.

He studied my features, his amber eyes narrowed with mistrust. I could almost see the gears in his pretty head turning.

"Leave before I change my mind."

»»————-　♔　————-««

taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd

#acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader

[azrielbrainrot]

Sfw Alphabet with Lucien Vanserra

note: I think the lucien running around my brain might be a little ooc but hopefully not too much! I love him a lot, I hope you enjoy.

(since i did azzie i thought i'd do luci too)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He's very affectionate no matter who's watching. Well unless it's Beron because he knows it could actually get you killed. But if that's out of the way then he'll always be touching you in someway. He's the type to always kiss and hug you as a greeting even if you've seen him that day already. He's also constantly holding your hand.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's easy to befriend but I think it might take a bit to get to bestfriend. He probably still has some trauma after Tamlin so you'd have to show that you're trustworthy first but then it's smooth sailing from there.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Of course, it might be the best part of his day. I think he likes being the big spoon. He also likes laying you on top of him or have you sit in his lap while he's reading or working. He'd use any excuse to cuddle you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yes, I think he wants a place to call home more than anything. I can't see him being bad at anything honestly.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He'd be sweet about it. He would talk you through it and remind you that it wasn't your fault. He might even pull the "it's not you, it's me" card but also actually mean it. After what happened with Jesminda, I wonder if he'd try to break up with you to protect you if he knew being together could bring you any harm. I don't think he could make it last honestly, especially if he saw how heartbroken you were.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I'm not sure marriage is that important to him. Like as long as you're together it wouldn't make much of a difference if you got married or just lived together.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's so gentle. Lucien would never intentionally do anything that could cause you harm in any way. He'd be so gentle with you feelings and emotions and your every thought. He'd treat you with so much love and adoration.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He's a great hugger. He's the type to lift you up and spin you around a little if he's in a really good mood too. He'll nuzzle into the crook of your neck, breathing you in, and laugh into it when you ask him what he's doing. God I need happy Lucien so bad.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Every day. He has learned the hard way that he needs to cherish every moment while he can and he'd want to make sure you always knew how he feels about you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I'm not sure he'd get all that jealous but he'd still fuck you if something happened just for the fun of it. Like he wouldn't truly be upset or even think you wanted someone else but he would still fuck you in front of the mirror so you could watch him while he whispers the dirtiest things into your ear. "Tell me who's making you feel this good". "Keep screaming my name so they can hear how good i can fuck you". "Do you think that male could make you burn with pleasure like I can?". (that wasn't all that sfw apologies)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Soul consuming. He's probably so sensual and passionate with his kisses. He'd kiss you over your entire body to make sure he learned how every inch of your skin felt against his lips. He'd welcome your kisses anywhere but he's probably such a slut for cheek kisses.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's very sweet with children. He'd probably do cute fire tricks to entertain them too.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Lucien are spent with soft kisses and even softer touches. He'd wake you up with sweet words pressed into your ear and kisses all over your face. Then he'd give you the most beautiful smile and a soft "good morning beautiful". You'd either spend some time cuddling and smiling at each other like idiots or he'd roll on top of you and wake your body up with pleasure. You'd definitely wake up to him with his head between your legs from time to time too. He'd just look up when he saw you awake and give you a "there you are" and go right back to it until you saw stars.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

I go back and forth. He'd definitely enjoy nights in, just the two of you. Having dinner, reading together and just staying up talking about everything for hours. Lucien is definitely the type of person you could have the most emotional and serious conversations with and he'd still manage to throw some lightheartedness in there. You could go from the meaning of life to your worst fears to the latest pastries at your local shop and he would give you the same amount of interest for all of these and never make you feel silly for anything you ever said. But then he'd also love to go out and experience life with you. You would dance for hours, laughing your hearts out. As much as I want to keep this sfw, I can't just move past the fact that he'd fuck you for hours on end, whether you stayed in or went out that night. This man would never pass the opportunity to show you how much he wants you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

I think it wouldn't take that long for him to open up but there are some things he'd keep for longer. This boy has a lot of trauma so he would just go at his own pace and wait for the right timing to tell you everything. I don't think he'd try to hide anything or feel ashamed about any of it though, he'd just have to make sure you were together for a bit before being too vulnerable.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has the patience of a saint. I mean we can see that with how much control he has over himself with this whole Elain thing, even managing to push down all those overbearing instincts. So he'd definitely be patient with you beyond measure.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything. He makes sure of never forgetting anything of importance.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He definitely cherishes all your first moments together. I can see him lean into your forehead and let out the fattest sigh when you kiss him for the first time. Definitely replayed the first time you told him you loved him a million times in his head.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Of course he'd protect you but he would love it so much when you protected him. That was something he didn't get too much of so it would make his heart beat at a million miles an hour every time you stood up for him. If it's a more physical thing, like an attack or battle, he'd probably be beyond freaked out if you tried getting in front of him to protect him because of what happened with Jesminda. He couldn't watch another lover die or even get hurt because of him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He'd put all his effort into everything when it comes to you. But I also think he likes keeping things casual. He'd definitely prefer a candle lit dinner at home than going to a fancy restaurant. And I think he'd buy you beautiful gifts but the flowers he picks up on his way home would be even more meaningful.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He pushes his feelings aside to prioritize yours. And then it comes to a point where he can't ignore them anymore and he'd be absolutely wrecked, way more than if he had talked things through with you beforehand.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He knows he's pretty and he likes keeping it that way, like who can blame him? But he's not that worried about looking too put together either. He's just effortlessly pretty.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yeah. Especially since he doesn't really have a place where he belongs, you'd be that place for him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He does his daily affirmations every day in front of the mirror while he brushes his hair.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Uptight and judgy people. Prejudiced people. Cruel people. People like his family really.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He probably talks in his sleep. I don't know why this came to mind but I can see him murmuring random things when he's dead asleep.

#acotar headcanon #lucien headcanons #lucien vanserra headcanons #lucien x reader #lucien x you #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x you #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra

[achaotichuman]

*Hops down from the rooftop* What are your headcannon on Rhysand and Lucien fighting over Tamlin?

Also have a cookie 🍪🍪🍪

*Takes cookie and eats it, begins talking with my mouth full* Well I have quite a few headcanons on Rhysand and Lucien fighting over Tamlin, I'm so glad you asked about them. Here are the scenes I imagine.

When Lucien waltzed in alongside Tamlin to the High lord meeting, Rhysand initially thought nothing of it. So, the fox boy he had heard so much of had run off to Spring when his little lover was slaughtered. Of course, Tamlin, the bleeding heart, let him in and gave him a fancy title. Anything to save his broken ego. A stupid decision of course, letting in the disowned son of Autumn into the Court semi-new untrained High lord. But that was Tamlin, never thinking beyond whatever injured, pleading Fae laid at his feet.

Too kind, untrained, unknowing, untested. That would be killed soon enough, perhaps the fox would have something to do with it.

But Rhysand was quickly taken aback by just the sort of person Lucien Vanserra proved himself to be.

Tamlin had said something, adding to the conversation about trade between Summer and its neighboring Courts. Rhysand made a snickering comment he didn't care to remember, why would he? He made many snickering comments about Tamlin.

Then Lucien had looked him dead in the eyes, fire burning in his gaze, cracking in the air, he had murmured in a low tone, "Watch that forked tongue, Rhysand, we wouldn't want the new High lord of Night to be proven as a witless fool."

Rhysand's eye had twitched, but he smirked and drawled, "And what is the disowned Prince talking about? Surely you know better than to invoke a High lord's wrath, we do know what happened last time you tried that." Rhysand flicked his eyes pointedly to Beron.

Lucien had simply lounged back in his chair, "Would invoking your wrath lead for a more interesting subject of conversation? Every word that has so far come from your side of the meeting has been nothing more than bland. Though I suppose I shouldn't expect more from someone who wears the exact same jacket every day."

Rhysand blinked, and Tamlin snickered under his breath. That snicker, the look of mischief in the Spring Lords eyes when he turned to Lucien was what pushed Rhysand over the edge.

"I'll have you know; I do not wear the same jacket every day, little Lucien." Rhysand drawled.

"Ahh, so it is the latter option." Lucien looked at Tamlin and quirked an eyebrow, at which Tamlin had to bit down on his lip and look away from his emissary, lest he burst out laughing.

"Excuse me?" Rhysand said, confused.

Lucien then turned his sly fox eyes back to the Night Lord, "Well, Tamlin and I were just discussing on our journey here whether or not you wore the same jacket every day or had a wardrobe full of the exact same clothes. We both decided it was in the fact the latter that was more pathetic."

Every High lord had then pointedly looked at the floor or celling. No one meeting Rhysand's eyes.

That day a war was waged, and Rhysand swore he would win it.

***

Tamlin had always been receptive to Rhysand, always. Even before he considered them 'friends' the Springling was drawn to the realm of Night. Asking one to many probing questions at meetings, watching Rhysand and his circle at parties. Even following Illyrian warriors around at a distance when the Night and Spring armies had a brief few weeks of training with each other.

Even after their fallout, even after Rhysand couldn't look him in the eye and see his friend anymore. The Night Lord enjoyed toying with him. A conversation here, a whispered comment there, a torturous trailing of fingers along the collarbone or thigh would have Tamlin ready to fall to his knees. Whether to beg for forgiveness or beg in another... more sensual way, Rhysand would decide once he got him that point of desperation.

But Rhysand was never able to get him to that point. Because a certain red-headed bastard who had no right playing in territories that weren't his always managed to intervene.

Helion's father had thrown some gathering, of course Rhysand was invited. Everyone was invited, including Tamlin.

It hadn't taken long before Rhysand decided he wished to play. He snuck up behind the Spring Lord, whispered a few back-handed compliments and hidden insults about his reign. Along with the cutting words, his fingers danced on Tamlin's waist.

The Spring Lord had taken in deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as if praying to the Mother for strength. She would not answer his calls, she had gifted Rhysand with his powers after all, the Mother was yet another delightful worshipper of the ground the Nightling walked upon.

Rhysand finally whispered a cruel taunt in Tamlin's ear, something about his mother being a bitch-slave to her mate. Claws had shot through Tamlin's fingers but he couldn't lay a hand on Rhysand, lest he start a battle he would not win.

Rhysand then wrapped his hands around Tamlin's hips and slowly began to pull him away from the party, back into the shadows.

"Come play in the dark with me, won't you Tamlin?" Rhysand spoke softly in his ear. Tamlin nearly fell back into him, lulled into the false sense of safety that was the Night Court.

Then there were clicking footsteps. A shock of red hair appeared before them, and then Tamlin was being reeled away from Rhysand. The Night Lord stood shocked for a moment, then he saw the offender.

Lucien Vanserra grinned at Rhysand, only innocence in that beautiful face. But fire crackled in his eyes, a warning that had Rhysand stepping back and brushing himself off.

"Tamlin, I'm so thankful to have found you." Lucien said, turning back to his High lord, pointedly ignoring Rhysand.

"There are some esteemed courtiers that would love to meet your acquaintance, I have told them all about your ideas for installing a filter through-" Lucien wrapped a hand around Tamlin's waist, keeping him close, far, far too close for Rhysand's liking.

Rhysand cleared his throat, cutting Lucien off abruptly. He turned to face the Night Lord, his face still perfect and calm, but those eyes... Rhysand nearly shuddered.

The Night Lord straightened, "A pleasure to see you as well, Lord Lucien Vanserra."

Lucien looked him up and down slowly, then he looked over at Tamlin who was glancing between the two of them, looking at Rhysand like he wanted to cut his throat and the only thing stopping him was Lucien.

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Rhysand. Now Tamlin, if you aren't preoccupied, I must take you to meet these guests."

With that Lucien swept Tamlin away into the ground, but not without a final glance over his shoulder at Rhysand.

Rhysand wanted to pounce, to run forward and drag Tamlin, drag his Tamlin back into the darkness.

Then the Night Lord nearly jumped when something like fire burned at the entrance of his mental wards. Nothing to suggest a daemati playing in his head, but some person with a great deal of power asking for an audience in his mind.

Rhysand allowed a small window to reach and speak to this unknown power.

"Don't ever touch him, Night Lord. Don't even come near him." Lucien whispered along the makeshift bridge between them.

"Or what Fire Lord?" Rhysand taunted.

"Or I will see to it your death is worse than that of your own sister's."

Rhysand stilled, he felt all the blood drain from his face as anger took hold but before he could latch onto Lucien's mind and make him pay for his words, the Fire Lord was gone.

Still when Rhysand looked around the party he saw them. Lucien and Tamlin together. Tamlin now happily enjoying the conversations he was having, no doubt forgetting about his earlier encounter with Rhysand.

But Lucien caught his eye. Lucien saw right through his diplomatic act.

Violet on burning embers.

Lucien grinned. It was full of fury and hatred.

Rhysand grinned back. It was laced with the promise of retribution.

***

"What is your problem?" Rhysand hissed, pulling Lucien aside and into the shadows, where they couldn't be seen or heard.

They were in Spring. Celebrations were under way for Calanmai. Tamlin's tenth Calanmai since taking to the throne. Rhysand loved to blend into the celebrations, appearing beside the Spring Lord when he least expected it.

Morrigan had asked he stay in his own court for this Calanmai, considering he never seemed to partake in the celebrations of Night. He didn't know why he had to, considering it wasn't as if Night took the holiday nearly as seriously as Spring, there was no 'renewal of the earth' in Night, if there was rest assured Rhysand would be there. As it were, he preferred to join in on Spring.

He preferred to fuck around with Tamlin's heard. He liked to set off the already on edge High lord. Liked to prove he had little control on his temper, which Rhysand already knew he tried hard to keep in check.

However, the last few years Lucien had landed a keen eye on Rhysand. Swooping in and intervening whenever Rhysand managed to rile Tamlin up almost to the point of attempting to strangle Rhysand.

At first it had been funny to watch Lucien intercept Rhysand's dealings with Tamlin, now it was getting old.

"My problem, Rhysand, is that you just can't get over your obsession with him." Lucien hissed back.

Rhysand let out a barking laugh, "Obsession?!"

"Yes," Lucien crossed his arms, "Why is it that you are all over Tamlin at any given opportunity? I first thought it was because of what went down between you that night, but now.... watching you try again and again to get your grimy hands onto him, it just looks like some creepy fetish you're chasing."

Rhysand balked. He let out a wild laugh, "Have you lost your mind? Have you forgotten exactly who you're speaking too?"

"I have not forgotten who you are at all. You are the creep who continues to try and prey on my best friend." Lucien said, eyes lighting up with that fire, "And I sincerely suggest you step away from him."

"If he doesn't want me around, why does he not send me away himself? Tell me Lucien, if he afraid of me?"

Lucien leaned back on his heels, looking Rhysand up and down like he was little more than a bug under his foot. Rhysand found his own anger starting to push to the surface.

"If you want to be picked by the High lord." Lucien said slowly, "Go line up with the other maidens by that cave and wait your turn."

Rhysand was stunned into silence. Lucien took the window too walk out of the darkness and back into the light of Spring.

"Oh, you're good Vanserra." Rhysand whispered to nothing, "But not better than me."

***

"I'll forgive you." Rhysand said.

Tamlin's green eyes welled up with tears, glistening in the moonlight, he could only manage a weak, "Really?"

No, never, "Yes. I'll forgive you, Tamlin Darling."

Rhysand reached out and took Tamlin's hand intertwining their fingers, the smell of roses from the gardens around them was sickeningly sweet, "I'll forgive it all."

"Rhysand." Tamlin whispered.

"Come back with me to Night, Tamlin, I've forgiven you." Rhysand whispered.

Oh, he was too easy. Tamlin gave him a smile that the Night Lord would've once said was brighter than any star in the sky. But as they were, Rhysand hated it and couldn't wait to ruin it.

He wouldn't lie, there had been a time Rhysand had truly loved him. Had admired and respected Tamlin. Had cleaned the wounds his brothers gave him, had sung soft songs in his ear in the language of his mother. They had held each other in the coldest, darkest nights. They had hidden under blankets during the fiercest storms.

He hadn't always wanted Tamlin's ruin.

But he wanted it now.

He wanted to sweep Tamlin away, pretending to take him back to Velaris. Then leave him in the Court of Nightmares to find his own way out, to find his own way back to the Spring Court.

He wanted to see him break again.

Tamlin stepped closer to Rhysand, hesitating, like it couldn't believe this was real.

"I forgive you." Rhysand whispered again. '

"No, he doesn't." A cunning voice cut through the dark of Spring night.

Tamlin and Rhysand looked up to see Lucien pacing leisurely towards them.

"Lucien-" Tamlin started.

Lucien cut him off, "He doesn't forgive you Tam. There's nothing to forgive."

The Fire Lord held Rhysand's gave with every lethal word he said, cutting through the trance Rhysand had carefully lulled Tamlin into with his sweet words and promises of forgiveness.

"You did nothing wrong. You were drugged against your will. You were kidnapped by your own flesh and blood and forced to watch this low life's sister and mother killed. There is nothing to forgive of you. You did nothing wrong."

"That is not true!" Rhysand snapped, finally and fully fed up with this fox's lies, "You weren't there, you have no clue of what went down! He is guilty of their deaths, and I won't have you coming along and trying to rewrite the narrative!"

Rhysand in a blast of anger had caused the very sky to darken. His eyes blazed with power as he surged towards Lucien, fully prepared to take his head off.

Then vines wrapped around his arms and legs, reeling him right back. Rhysand whipped his head around to see Tamlin standing there, staring into nothing but with his hand raised as he called on the power of the earth to hold Rhysand.

"He lied to you Tam." Lucien said, brushing past Rhysand in favor of standing before his High lord, "He'll never not hold you accountable for what happened, no matter what the truth actually is."

"You lied to me." Tamlin whispered in Rhysand's direction.

Rhysand barked a laugh, finally being released by those vines. He straightened and brushed his jacket off, "You're actually going to believe this little Autumn reject over someone you've known almost all your life?!"

Tamlin's eyes turned from blank to rage. He squeezed his hands into fists. At that second a gust of wind blew through nearly knocking Rhysand off his feet. Tamlin remained upright like a rock in a storm, holding onto Lucien to keep the fox steady.

Rhysand stared at their conjoined hands, wanting nothing more than to cut Lucien's off.

Tamlin's voice then rang through the gardens with the power of a High lord, "You have come into my Court, insulted my emissary, sewn discord and chaos amongst my people and to top it all off you have played with my head like I am just a toy to you."

Roots shot up out of the ground, all around Rhysand like a cage growing from the very land.

"You have five seconds to take off and never set foot in my territories without an explicit invitation ever again. And you will never dare speak an untrue word or lay a hand on my Lucien for as long as your miserable life continues."

Rhysand stared at Tamlin, stared at those glowing green eyes, alight with power. He was serious. He was actually banishing Rhysand from his Court.

"You-"

Those roots shot up faster, and Rhysand had no choice but to grit his teeth, extend his wings and take off into the night.

When he returned to the Night Court, he found Azriel in the threshold of the townhouse, his arms crossed and his eyes... disappointed.

"Come on Rhysand, time to give up."

Rhysand snarled and he strode past his brother, "Never."

***

When Rhysand was finally gone Tamlin fell to his knees. Those roots going back down into the ground. Lucien was done in the dirt beside him in a second.

Lucien put his hands on his friend's shoulders, "He's gone now, you're okay."

Tamlin opened and closed his mouth, looking at the place Rhysand had been and then back at Lucien.

Then he all but fell into Lucien's arms, hugging him tightly and burying his face into the crook of Lucien's neck. Lucien hummed softly and rubbed circles into his back, just being close to him.

"I'm such a fucking idiot." Tamlin spat, voice breaking.

"No, no you're not. You're hurting and he took advantage of that, Tamlin he manipulated you, you aren't at fault for that."

"Yes, I am, I'm a High lord, I should at least expect that from him."

Lucien sighed and started to rock gently from side to side, "Maybe, but I don't know how well I would fare if I was in your position."

"You're smarter than me, you would've figured it all out."

"Hindsight is 20/20 Tam. Rhysand is a snake; we just need to keep him out of our gardens."

A moment of silence passed them, one heartbeat, then the next.

"He'll be back." Tamlin whispered.

Lucien pulled back just enough so that he could see Tamlin's face, he pressed their foreheads together and murmured, "And I will stand by your side and fight him to any ends if that's what it takes to keep you safe."

Tamlin screwed his eyes shut, "I don't deserve you."

"I love you." Lucien just managed to say.

Tamlin finally opened his eyes again, "I don't deserve you."

When they kissed it was like sweet wine. Delicious like honey and sending them higher than the clouds. Everything in the world slowed to a halt. No Night Lords, no Inner Circle, no darkness could have torn them apart.

Rhysand would be back.

But Lucien would fight him. Tamlin would fight him.

No matter how long it took, no matter how much strength it drained them of.

They would fight.

I know this isn't really a list of headcanons but I couldn't resist writing these scenes. Thank you for the ask!

#acotar #tamlin #lucien vanserra #rhysand #pro tamlin #pro lucien vanserra #tamsand #tamcien #acotar headcanons #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #anti rhysand

[icey--stars]

ACOTAR and TOG males in Corsets/Vests (Headcanons)

The High Lords of Prythian + 2 more ACOTAR males and then Rowan and Fenrys from TOG.

I think my self control just went down the hill because now I'm on pinterest looking at men in corsets and imagining which acotar/tog male would wear which. As well as vests (I have an addiction). So far I've come to the following conclusions: (doesn't include cass and az because I literally only see them wearing leathers/more formal leathers, not really a corset/vest. MAYBE az, but only for eris.)

If you want to see my lack of self control, feel free to look lol

Rhysand:

Would be so good looking in a corset. (However, Lucien, Thesan and Tarquin would be slightly better). However, I have to say that he'd probably be better looking in a vest than a corset 🫣 The purple one would match his eyes and well... his eyes happen to be one of my favorite physical characteristics of him.

~~~

Helion:

THIS male. Oh lordy. He'd ROCK a corset like none other and honestly, he's never going to wear a vest. I don't see him doing it. He'd wear the traditional Day Court robes but then he'd one day just walk out in the gold chains (far right) and everyone would not be able to take their eyes off him. And the gold?? The gold fits too well with his dark skin. I am UNWELL.

~~~

Lucien Vanserra:

I am panting after this male so badly. He would be the best looking in a corset, absolutely no competition. He would have everyone drooling over him and THEN he'd just pop out in a vest and it'd be the same. He looks way too good in either. He looks good in like every court's style too! I just can't with him. I could put him in any of the corsets on this post and he'd look FABULOUS.

~~~

Thesan:

Would absolutely have his lover panting after him in either a corset or vest. I like to imagine Dawn Court fashion with like soft yellows and oranges along with creams and browns?? I think that the first corset fits the best into that. But do I really need to say more? With his skin tone (a more asian one, darker. definitely not white at all) he would look HEAVENLY.

~~~

Kallias:

Would look best in a vest, BUT if anyone is going to look ANY good in a dark blue/white corset, it's definitely Kallias. Now, the middle one wouldn't be paired with black of course, but he'd look DAMN GOOD in it. Am I going insane? Probably.

~~~

Tarquin:

This male would canonically wear corsets daily. The vest just doesn't do it for him. Sure, he looks amazing but it's also too warm in Summer to wear it! He'd be wearing the corset with nothing under it (or for court proceedings, a white dress shirt) but literally- he'd look so hot. Thus far, the rankings for corsets are: Lucien, Tarquin, Thesan, Helion and then Rhys. Everyone else is irrelevant.

~~~

Eris Vanserra:

We are going to skip Beron, I'm sorry. If you can't tell by the number of times I've ruthlessly had Beron killed in my fics, then you should know I hate him.

So, Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court is definitely someone who I'd rather see in a vest. But a corset? If he finds the right one, he'd look damn good. Just like his little brother. Though, I feel like he'd be so tired after ruling Autumn that he'd wear it mostly to help his posture lol

However, when he's not tired and wears a vest, he'd look like a god incarnate and I'd get down on my knees to worship the ground he walks on.

~~~

Tamlin:

We believe in Tamlin in vests around these parts. (and forgiveness, but that's not what these weird headcanons are about) He'd be drool worthy. His hair?? PERFECT to match the first vest or the corset. I swear, he'd look so good that I'd be panting if he walked by me.

~~~

Rowan Whitethorn:

Rowan? Rowan would wear a corset and have Aelin panting after him the entire day and absolutely nobody would be able to focus that day. Like literally, if you even get a glance, your mind is BROKEN. I would personally just get down on my knees and beg. I don't know about you guys, but if I imagine his tattoo as well, it only serves to make it worse. And a vest?? If you imagine the right with the green and then a more silver color... yeah, I think you get the point. Rowan is drool worthy ALWAYS.

~~~

Fenrys Moonbeam

Do I really even need to say anything?? DO I? Fenrys. Corset. I am melting. He could fit into so many colors and styles and look amazing? I'm not even going to provide a vest picture because any fancy ones that I look up would automatically look good on him. His onyx dark eyes just make it easier!!

~~~

Okay... well that was longer than anticipated but I hope you all enjoyed those thoughts. I think I've gone feral by looking at all these images and imagining the acotar/tog men in corsets.

#acotar #acotar headcanon #acotar headcanons #rhysand #helion #lucien vanserra #lucien #thesan #tarquin #kallias #eris vanserra #eris #tamlin #rowan whitethorn #rowan #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys #throne of glass #tog #tog headcanon

[lorcandidlucienwill]

elucien, feylin, neris headcanons that sound canon to you

OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!!

Feylin: They were absolutely meant to be mates and endgame, idc what SJM says. She. Literally. Had. Tamlin. Claim. Her. On. Calanmai. When he was at his most feral. It's the same claiming shit she used in TOG!!! Plus Rhys had the perfect set up as villain before she retconned everything.

Feyre would struggle with coping with all the pressure of being a High Lord's consort, and although she loves Tamlin, part of the conflict in her character would involve resenting Tamlin for putting such pressure on her, particularly after UTM, and this brings her closer to Lucien, who acts as the mediator in most of their arguments (let's be fr he's the smartest of the trio).

Animals generally hate Feyre, and she wonders if the animals can somehow sense that she used to be a huntress. Extra annoyance happens because Tamlin is basically a Disney princess, all the baby animals crawl onto him and sleep on him. Of course, Feyre finds it super cute that Tamlin falls asleep with ducklings nestling in his hair. Who wouldn't? Neris: Eris's dogs are naughty af with him, but they loooove Nesta (more than Eris) and they obey her always. Eris is a little irritated at first, but then he's happy because he knows Nesta has had very little love in her life and he's glad that the dogs love her as much as he does. Also, Nesta and Eris get dragons because I said so.

Eris would make Nesta High Lady so fast, and I'm talking a REAL High Lady, not the bullshit Feyre is. Nesta is absolutely the dom in their relationship, we know Eris loves it.

Eris and Nesta are that hot mean couple everyone despises, yet they want to be them so bad (and fuck them too). Eris teaches Nesta how to use her magic, and Nesta's flames complement his; he can tolerate a lot of her power used on him because his own flame protects him.

Elucien: Elain is an absolute horn dog for Lucien. She avoids him because every time he walks into the room, she gets unbelievably horny. Especially because he almost always comes and serves cunt. Killing across a battlefield to get to her? 200/10 sexy. Discussing politics like a knowledgable man? Sooooo hot. Gifting her lovely pearls and gardening gloves, gifts very specific to her tastes??? Unbelievably sexy. How is he so hot and perfect? Elain NEEDS to jump his bones, she gets visions of them fucking all the time.

Elain is a healer, and her and Lucien together will heal Spring. Bonus points if Elain also has earth magic. A seer with healer and earth magic? Mystical witch frrrr.

Elain and Lucien will defeat Koschei, Beron will die in the next book, and the first Elucien babies will be pegasi. Elain and Lucien have twins, one boy and one girl.

#anon asks #feylin #neris #elucien

[aldbooks]

A bit Helion angst for you this morning…

Helion was not a fool. From the first moment he'd seen the boy across a crowded ballroom while they both played the charming courtier, he'd sensed the power hidden deep within him and the invisible chains which kept it there. It hadn't taken but a small effort in logical reasoning for him to understand what it meant, and only a small effort more to understand why it had remained a secret.

For centuries, he had kept that secret, doing his best to keep his distance lest anyone suspect while eagerly drinking down every bit of news or gossip that reached him about the boy who was rapidly growing into an almost universally loved and respected male. It killed him to be so separated from both his mate and his son, but for both of their safety, he would endure almost anything.

Then came Amarantha, and Under the Mountain.

He'd been present the day that started it all. When Lucien Vanserra, brash and confident, had almost gleefully informed the witch of his friend's refusal of her proposal. The way he'd insulted her so boldly to her face might have been amusing if not for what happened next. How he'd managed to hold himself back despite his near blinding rage, he couldn't say. Perhaps that small logical part of his brain had known that attempting to interfere with a female infinitely more powerful than him would not have ended well for anyone. He'd been nothing then really, a distant member of the royal family, always welcome to their table but of no true importance...

Of course, it wasn't long after that the accursed masquerade ball was held and they were all plunged into the witch's wretched curse. A few months later he suddenly found himself the unexpected High Lord of Day, brimming with power he was unable to use. He had wondered and worried then how Lucien was dealing with the increase in power he had surely received as the new heir. Wondered if he understood what it meant. Wondered if he could control it, or if it might yet give away the secret he and his mother had fought so long to keep hidden. Yet everytime the fox showed his face, not one hint of what he was appeared, and Helion prayed it would stay that way even as he was forced to watch his son suffer further indignities while his brothers sneered and laughed at his torment.

What came after Amarantha might have been worse.It wasn't just the battle with Hybern while his son was off on the continent Gods knew where, looking for a queen who might have been impossible to find, or the High Lord's meeting when he'd come face to face with his estranged mate, unable to speak to her. It wasn't even the knowledge that Lucien had found his mate and yet seemed doomed to the same fate of being forever separated from her.

It was knowing he now had the power to rival Beron's and still somehow being unable to do anything about it.

Another war came upon them in the form of a death god and Helion began to despair that his broken family might never be whole again as they all perished to a seemingly insurmountable threat. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

Through a combination of efforts and luck on the parts of many, their world finally found themselves facing the possibility of true peace. And his son was at the center of it's heros. By another stroke of luck, Beron's own sons had solved the issue of freeing his mate from the hateful male's hold and he now found himself standing in front of the family he had been so afraid of losing, unsure how to claim them for his own.

#Helion Spellcleaver #helion acotar #lucien vanserra #helion x loa

[sillymercury]

Stolen Lullabies

Summary: When war returns to Pyrthian the inner circle finds themselves on the losing side. In a desperate attempt to turn the tides three brother perform a forgotten spell to call forth a great power through time and space. What happens when that ‘great power’ is a human girl who knows nothing of magic? Will she be of use or has destiny abandoned them?

Word count: 4.7k

Part i (New York Version)

Part i

Prythian ver.

The three men weren’t speaking as they trudged through the dense wood, looking for the cave entrance they had been directed to. What they were about to do was unorthodox and would be condemned by the other Prythian leaders, even the other members of their own court. Words had no place among the intense nerves that were seeping from each of them.

Over the course of three and a half years the state of their world had unraveled quickly and been thrown into desperate times so the brothers stole away into the night to carry out desperate measures.

After the other human queens learned the death of their friend was at the hands of faeries, they went quiet and started planning what they called “necessary preemptive strikes.” These strikes consisted of newly constructed blasting jelly laced with faebane, planted in many different fae lands that tore apart ancient infrastructure and killed thousands. The queens took over the unruled human lands in south Pyrithan encouraging the humans there to join their war efforts. They now had many large armies ready and willing to kill the fae with stolen and poisoned weapons. 

In light of these attacks, the fae lands of the continent banded together to fight against the human queens, they rationalized that all humans needed to be “taken care of.” Rask had moved into Hybern, taking in the citizens left without a king, since they already shared the twisted beliefs of humans. The autumn and spring courts had also been compromised. Beron excitedly joined the continents efforts and exposed the weakened spring court for a hefty payout. Tamlin tried to fight back but when Rask came in and rebuilt the ruin his court was left in his hands were tied as what was left of his citizens rallied with the continental savior, afraid of what might happen without their support. Over time he became more and more helpless, falling into the backseat and letting Rask take full control of his court. 

The other five courts of Pyrinthian scrambled as the world broke out into war, trying to protect the humans while simultaneously trying not to be killed by them. There was also the topic of infighting as some of the courts questioned if fighting for someone who doesn’t want their help was worth it as they were consistently losing soldiers and resources to both sides. All the while Koschei was moving in the shadows, playing his own game. 

Rhys was weighed down by the weight of the world; he wanted to protect his court, family, and the peaceful world he envisioned his son growing up in. Everyone was spread too thin, growing weary from another war so quickly after the last and Rhys knew he had to do something, fast. He put his trust into a vision from his sister-in-law, one that foretold a happy ending to the gruesome war. 

“The most unlikely of heroes- a star out of place - a terrible tragedy accompanied by a new age of law is the only way to ensure a clean victory.” 

They had spent weeks trying to sort out the cryptic message but they hit a wall and the war wasn’t letting up. Rhys had watched as the hope of the inner circle was being sucked out of them slowly as they lost battles, allies, and friends. It wasn’t until Azriel came into his study, in the dark of the night, covered in shadows and determination. He whispered his far-fetched solution to their problem and Rhysand finally felt a semblance of hope.

The spymaster had spent weeks scouring any place he could for solutions or clues when he stumbled upon a small nomadic civilization that traveled through the vast cave systems under their small continent. He communicated with a single tribe member who could speak his language as all the rest spoke an ancient and forgotten tongue. Azriel had been provided with two stained and crumbled papers from their sacred book, the confidant explained in broken English, their ceremony to call on spirits throughout the ages. 

The powerful magic is seldom used, only in the most desperate of times do these nomads perform the ritual that is meant to pull individuals through space and time. The magic will bring forth an individual with the power to remedy their obstacles and only once their duty is fulfilled will they be able to return to their time. It was tricky magic that could easily backfire and the language on the paper was lost and untranslatable, so the ritual could easily be floundered. It looked like a mess of scribbles and Azriel could only make out the words for the spell because the nomad pointed to it and relayed the pronunciation. 

Azriel and Rhys had spent the better part of a week debating themselves and each other on whether such magic was worth the risk. The biggest worry was that a misexecution would kill Rhys and in turn, Feyre, leaving their court weak and their son orphaned. Knowing that the rest of the inner circle would immediately disregard such a risk, they only brought in their other brother on the decision as a tiebreaker. Cassian was just as bad as his brothers, if not worse, constantly going back and forth on a decision.

 In midst of their decision making the summer court was faced with a particularly brutal attack, the young high lord was targeted by forces from the south and was left incredibly weakened. The struggle was nightmarish and Tarquin only survived because of a great sacrifice from his cousin, Varian. Upon learning of Varian’s death the inner circle was thrown into terrible mourning, and Amren of course, had the worst reaction. She was constantly being pulled back and forth through all stages of grief. Her anger had torn her apart, and coupled with her inability to wield otherworldly powers, she wasn’t able to enact the damage she craved. She couldn’t tear through the spring and autumn courts claiming her revenge like she wanted. The people who loved her were forced to watch her self-destruct. 

Cassian, the warrior with a bleeding heart, was the first to come to a definite decision, he wanted to do it. His friend’s hurt was hurting him and his mate which was making each of their pain individual worse in a vicious cycle. Azriel agreed to do it as well, he was confident in the solution he found. Rhys followed soon, feeling he was out of options and trusting his brother’s instincts. 

So here they were following a makeshift map to a sacred cave hidden from the world. The instructions they were given were simple: find the center of this cave and when the full moon was at its highest Rhys would begin the spell. Simple enough, they thought, but when they stood at the cave entrance they could smell each other’s anxiety. 

No one spoke, afraid it would scare them into backing out. Rhys and Azriel shared a look while Cass kept his eyes trained forward. Cass silently sheathed Nesta’s Made sword that he was gripping like a lifeline as he followed behind Az who was the first to squeeze into the tiny opening. The first few meters were tight. The men huffed and puffed as they were forced to make themselves as small as possible to force themselves through. 

The tight space gave way to slippery steep rock and Azriel slid down like a child on a playground until his feet hit the floor. Cassian, right behind him, knocked into him almost making him fall over. The shadowsinger gained his composure and pushed Cass back just in time for Rhys to knock into him. This time both men hit the ground. Az could not help the small breathy chuckle at the scene from his brothers, Rhys and Cass followed suit in laughing as Cass gently shoved Rhys off of him. 

The atmosphere between the brothers lightened enough to speak, “Homey,” Cassian said as he observed their surroundings. The Cave was dark and chilly, the floor was covered in puddles and the walls protruded in dangerously sharp ways. The air was thick and smelled like damp earth, “I can see what the Murdians like about it so much.” 

“Yeah, I would never leave either,” Rhys spoke following his brother’s bravery in making a joke. 

“We have just under an hour,” Azriels turn to speak, “we should hurry.” His brothers responded to his seriousness with just nods. They started to move through the darkness, Azriel took the lead, they all could see well in the dark but his vision was the best. He avoided the sharp rocks and stepped over the puddles. As they got deeper into the cave Azriel reminded Rhys of the warning he was given, “Stay as quiet as possible, there are beasts here that attack based solely on sound.” Rhys nodded even though Az wasn’t looking at him as he relayed the message to Cassian. Rhys kept the line to both men open in order to communicate silently, despite this none of them talk much; some deep part of them telling them this was a death march.

Azriels shadows were splayed in front of him, inspecting every crack and crevice, darting through every corner, scoping the scene as they always do in new places. Azriel listened as they whispered only to him, warning when to duck or when to take a big step. 

They twisted and turned through the cave for the better part of about 45 minutes before the tight halls opened up to a giant clearing. As each man stepped through, they took in their surroundings. There were four other entrances that met in the circular “room” and when they stepped in the breeze was more intense and there was a thin layer of water covering more of the floor. 

Although he was sure his shadows confirmed i, “This is it, Az said. His voice was soft as they made their way to the center of the room, “Speaking here should be fine…” Rhys produced three small orbs of light that lit up the space, the smooth walls were iridescent and seemed to constantly change colors as the orbs swirled and flickered. The ceiling was leaking in multiple places and what could be seen of the floor was covered in markings that vaguely resembled the scribles on the pages they were given. 

“I’ll put up a barrier just in case,” Rhys said and it was evident when he did as the breeze let up. He turned to face his brothers and he couldnt control the shake in his voice, “We should be good.”

Cassian turned to his brother wide eyed and worried, what they were about to do was sinking in for real this time. “Are we one hundred percent sure we want to do this?” 

“Yes,” Azriel was the one who responded, steady voice just above a whisper. He was nervous but deep down he had a really good feeling about this, he knew in his heart this would work. 

“One thousand percent sure?” Cassian pushed

Rhys responded with a nod before saying, “We dont have much of a choice at this point, and this was your idea.”

Cassian scoffed in response, “It was definitely Az’s idea, I was just the first one to agree.” Cassian had taken to assessing his surroundings, he would never show his trepidation in front of anyone other than his brothers here. 

“And now you’re the first to choke,” Az said cooly as he moved passed his brothers to the center of the room, he looked around and noticed the ceiling had a large circular indentation. “Im guessing this is where the portal will open. We only have a few minutes. You ready Rhys?”

Rhys blew out a puff of air and he pulled up next to his brother inspecting the same spot above him, “As ready as I’ll every be. You have the spell?”

Az pulled the paper out of his pocket and handed it over, Rhys inspected the pronunciation over and over again. He had no idea what any of the words meant, he could be speaking gibberish for all he knows. “You didnt memorize it?” Cassian asked with a slight incredoulisty and slight satirical tone. 

Rhys rolled his eyes at him, “Of course I memorized it… I just want to be sure.” The last part came out as a whisper as he went back to studying, trying some of the harder words out loud. He was shifting his weight as he paced back and forth. His companions shared a knowing look. Seeing their high lord in such a heap of nerves was a rare sight but they knew where his anxiety was coming from. If anything went wrong it could mean a terrible fate for him and his mate as well as a dark future for their young son who would barely be able to remember his parents should anything happen. 

Cassian made his way to Rhys and pressed a strong hand on his shoulder, “We got this… Okay? Were going to bring a powerful lord or sorcerer or something and we are going to end this war. Nothings going to happen to any of us. We’ll get our happy endings.” Rhys let out a low breath before nodding at Cassian mumbling a slight agreement under his breath. 

“Its time,” Azriel spoke delicately knowing those two words were terrifying everyone in the room. Rhys swallowed hard before nodding again, standing right before the circle with both of his brothers flanking him he bagan chanting. 

“Bvenis sorcha meh chall encie tord de vamer al pasht kahl achtokishan sorana snal leehan-” as Rhys chanted his eyes rolled to the back of his head, only the whites of his eyes were visible and his voice bounced eerily off the cave walls. 

The breeze had come back stronger, winds were blowing around the cave, whistling as they pushed themselves through the small cracks. Cassian’s hair was blown about making his messy bun even messier, him and Az had to pull their wings in tight to keep them from being pulled around. As Rhys voice got stronger they saw it, the ident in the ceiling had begun to glow. The light was sparkling, swirling in on itself, and as he continued the light filled the indentation more and more. 

“Ech telli ha- mores temur chenti forus-” Rhys was slowing down, his voice breaking as he had to dive deeper and deeper into his power reserve. Eventually the lights he produced went out and the barrier he had up disappeared. This was a spell meant to be performed by many, even with all his power he wasnt sure it was enough. “Bakk regumar tordehan aus-” Rhys swayed as blood began to pour from his nose, he would die if he continued like this. 

“I dont have enough power,” he spoke to his brothers through mindlink, “I cant finish the spell.” Rhys had kept chanting as he spoke to his brothers, the act alone had taken up more of his precious magic. His swaying intensified and he would’ve fallen if his brothers hadnt moved so quickly, within a second they were by his side, holding him up. 

“Yes you can,” Azriel spoke as he placed a hand on Rhys’ chest, Cassian got the message and moved a hand to Rhys’ chest as well. They were offering him their own magic, hoping it would be enough. “You’ll die if you stop.” Rhys kept chanting, he was able to stand up straighter now as he drained his brothers magic as well. Looking up Azriel saw that the indentation was almost full, they were so close “Almost there,” he encouraged. 

“Incan ghalhi snaleeham borgetchi de moranti-” the indent was full now and the walls began to shake, the entire cave began to shake. The spell was coming to a close and now Rhys was screaming, he’d used the last of his magic, relying only on that of his brothers to finish the spell. The wind was absolutely violent now, it seemed to scream back and the men had to fight to stay upright. 

“Borveni zalest- yormachti mal sten corus-” There were only two lines left of the spell when Rhys most wanted to quit. The magic of his brothers had run out, he had no choice but to tap into his life force, he wanted to tell his brothers that he wouldn’t let them die with him but he couldnt mindlink anymore. Four deaths wouldnt come from his insolent decision, he felt a tear slide down his cheek as his heart sent out an apology. He hoped Feyre would forgive him in the afterlife. 

“Maktelhi por venscious tam tam shalk jemelk pureni korcuh-” One line left and he could feel himself close to death, just a little further. The cave was groaning deeply as it lit up from the bright light of the portal. A silent prayer went up to the mother as he hoped this last line wouldn’t kill him, “Snoliyan lek pactari evenosh dam heer est na nebhi!” 

As Rhys spoke the last line he collapsed only to be caught by his brothers, he was alive but barely hanging on. He was weak and had no magic left. The boys struggled to keep themselves up aswell as the tremors seemed to challenge the integrity of the cave. Stone and debris were falling all around them, they moved their wings to act as umbrellas above their head. At this point they were sure the whole world was shaking. 

The portal guttered and groaned, spinning faster as it let out a warbling sound, Rhys had found his footing as they all stared hopeful. A few seconds had passed since he finished the spell but nothing had come yet. Azriel and Cassian shared worried glaces as they hoped they didnt just dance with death for no reason. 

All at once everything stopped, the shaking, the groaning, and the violent wind. The portal had finally regurgitated someone and whoever it was hit the now still floor with a thump. Rhys was perfectly straight as he pulled himself out of his brothers grasp and toward the mass on the floor. No one spoke as they watched the person start to move.

A low groan sounded through the room as the person bagan to move, when they stood up the boys could make out a tiny figure, about the size of Amren, looking around. It was a girl, a human. The boys were speechless. She threw whatever she was holding on the ground, stomping on it as she mumbled what sounded like a name. 

The sound of her voice floated through the cave and hit Azriel’s ears like a gentle wind chime. He involuntarily stepped forward as well not noticing the splaying of his wings behind him. The light from the portal was slowly leaving as she turned around but in the darkness he could see her clear as day. She was small, with a petite body, and her curls danced around her head in the now gentle breeze. He saw as she threw herself back with a yelp, Azriel could make out golden eyes shining with panic. He saw her plump lips part and her eyes squint as she attempted to make out the men in front of her in the darkness. Azriel studied everything about her, convincing himself that was his job. He clocked her high cheekbones, and strong eyebrows, her fox eyes and the devilish curve of her scared lips. She had a single blonde curl and the rest of her hair was dark with hints of blonde sprinkled throughout, he noticed her perfect button nose and the beauty mark under her left eye. He smelled her before he smelled her reaction, she was very unique, he had to fight to put his finger on her scent. It was praline amber, like when the wood was boiled perfectly to bring out its full scent, but that wasnt all, there was also the tart sweetness of ruby currant. She also had the fresh undertones of wild iris after rainfall that was being hidden by the bitter smell of her fear.

Cassian was the first to speak, “Its a girl,” he sounded like he couldn’t believe it, “a tiny girl.” Cass’ head was cocked to the side as he observed the tiny human infront of them. Faeries were normally larger than humans but she was even smaller than the Archeron’s when they were still human. In response to his words fear rolled off of her body in waves, strong and pungent enough to mask the delicious scent from before. 

Her back hit the wall as her eyes roamed the cave wildly, with the glow gone and Rhys unable to produce any more light so the only source was from his and Cassian’s siphons; their flicker was only to prove they were still alive as they no longer had access to any magic either. Despite that Azriel could practically see the wheels turning in her head, she was scared and trying to find a way out. 

Rhys stepped forward trying his luck, “Don’t worry,” his voice was gentle, the voice he used usually used in the face of small children, “we brought you here… to help us.” The girl pressed herself further into the wall as her eyes trained on Rhys. Her breathing shallowed and soon her fear was flooding the entire room. Rhys looked over to his brother but Azriel had his eyes trained forward, like a hawk intently watching its prey. He tried another tentative step, this time putting his hands up in a vulnerable, indefensive position, “We won’t hurt you.” 

The girl didn’t answer, she continued to stare. It wasn’t until she brought up a shaky hand and pointed that Azriel realized she wasn’t looking at Rhys but rather past him, all three heads followed her finger and that’s when they saw it. The Umbramaw or better known, shadoweater. Its misty body was subtly dancing behind the men. With the barrier down all the screaming must have attracted it. The warriors were quick to move into a fighting stance, the reaction so natural. Cassian let out a low swear as he unsheathed his sword, Azriel had one of his half way out before resheathing it. The girl was running away and her steps were loud, if there were more shadoweaters she wouldn’t stand a chance on her own. Looking over he saw his brother with Ataraxia and trusted him to protect himself and Rhysand. He hesitated for a beat but when Rhys turned to him and nodded once it was all the shadowsinger needed before taking off.

Rhys pulled out a dagger that Nesta had constructed for him right after the war had broke out, he had it hidden under his tunic and held it in front of himself defensively, he wasn’t sure if he had what it takes to fight right now. The Umbramaw must’ve sense his uncertainty, registering him as an easy target, it twisted toward him. Cassian didn’t miss a beat, he was in front of his brother protectively in an instant. Cassian was confident in the sword his mate had constructed as he wielded it an against the shadoweater. The first slash produced a low hiss as the beast registered the deadly weapon being used against him. The Umbramaw adjusted splitting its body into multiple parts and attacking both men from multiple angles. 

Rhysand struggled to stay upright, the Umbramaw darted around quickly leaving cuts across his face and body every time. He tried to fight back, swinging the dagger haphazardly as his exhaustion caught up to him, his mind was scrambled and most of his energy went into not passing out. Cassian on the other hand was fierce and steady, he was determined to return himself and his high lord home to their mates. He cut through the parts of the shadoweater that were badgering him and in the little time they took to dissipate he would swing at the ones around Rhys. Every time the mist came in contact with Ataraxia it would take longer to rematerialize. 

Sweat was dripping off Cassian’s face and rolling in beads down his back by the time the Umbramaw was repairing slow enough for an escape. “This thing must already be dead, that’s why I can’t kill it,” Cassian said through gritted teeth as he rushed to Rhys, he had about 90 seconds before the it would rematerialized. Rhys was fighting to stay awake, threatening to nod off when Cassian threw his arm under his shoulder and hauled his brother up. “We’ve got to go, you’ve got to run.” Rhys didn’t have the energy to respond and when Cassian started moving the warrior was essentially dragging him. “Oh mother,” Cassian muttered, 72 seconds. The general decided he wouldn’t waste anymore time trying to get Rhysand to function normally, that was clearly not in the cards. Cassian made it out with only a few scratches but Rhys was covered, blood was oozing from nearly every part of his body as Cassian threw him over his shoulder and began running in the direction Azriel had went. 

He could hear his brother grunting and yelling, “C’mon!” “I’m right here!” “Look at me!” He followed the sound and found his brother struggling to keep the Shadoweaters attention. The girl was motionless on the floor and every time the mist would make a move towards her Azriel would yell again, drawing its attention back. Cassian laid his brother down and pulled out his mates swords once again, Azriel was doing fine with the truth-teller but this Umbramaw’s rematerialization wasn’t slowing. 

Cassian and Azriel fighting together was able to slow it down quicker this time, Cassian’s palms clammed up as he hoped the other monster wouldn’t hear all of Az’s commotion. Fighting together for hundreds of years had them moving in perfect sync, every blow Azriel landed Cassian was there to deliver another one. They didn’t have time to wait for it to disappear for a minute and a half like last time, who knows how many more Shadoweaters were on their way to the noisy group. When they slowed the demon down to 30 seconds Cassian threw a barely awake Rhys over his shoulder once again as Azriel scooped up the unconscious girl into his arms and both men took off. 

They moved through the cave system swiftly and quietly, but without his shadows Azriel had to rely on his own vision and memory to know when to duck or jump. Their long maintained stamina gave them the ability to keep running until they reached the entrance they came in from, the tight squeeze made it impossible to carry the compromised individuals through with them. Cassian gave Az a boost up the makeshift slide and then lifted the girl, then Rhysand, before Az pulled Cass up as well. 

When they came out Cass placed his brother on the ground to catch his breath as Az continued to hold the girl in his arms. Even though he knew the immediate threat was gone the part of his brain that controlled his instincts told him not to let her go. 

“Im sorry, I-“ Rhys breathed the fresh air greedily. Blood was dripping into his eyes but he couldn’t muster up the strength to wipe it was so he just kept them shut as he spoke, “I can’t conjure my wings.” 

Cassian shook his head at his brother as he hoisted him up, “I’m just glad I’m not bringing home a body,” the words were painful, the thought of such a thing… no. He wouldn’t even let himself think it. Rhys forced his eyes open to glace at the brother that was holding him as he mumbled something intelligible, Cass is pretty sure he heard something about loving him and being so thankful. 

“Lets get out of here man,” Cass spoke to Azriel as he adjusted the large man in his arms to which he just nodded, Cassian shot into the air dodging the high branches.

Az spared a look back at the cave entrance then one down at the girl in his arms, “Please… save us,” he whispered to her but she remained undisturbed. He pulled her tighter against his chest before following his brother into the sky. 

A/N: Ayooo first series les gooooo!!!

I’m so excited for this one. This is part i (Prythian Ver.) I have part i (New York ver.) that gives some insight on our female lead(oc)

If you made it this far I love and lemme know how y’all like it 😚

Masterlist

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #cassian fanfic #rhysand #rhys #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfiction #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #elain archeron #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #cassian #acotar cassian #acotar azriel #acotar rhysand #acotar Rhys #acotar x Taylor Swift #acotar oneshot #azriel one shot #azriel oneshot #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x you #azriel x reader

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

A Flower With Petals of Flame: Part fifteen (Eris x Reader)

Warnings: some suggestiveness, kissing, murder, and angst ofc :>

Part fourteen Part sixteen

Tag list: open

A plan is set in motion about how to proceed, but the third dead soul has other plans... :> Also note, I'm exhausted so this isn't up to my normal standards :'D

We all sit on the ground near the tree, not talking.

We had been arguing for over an hour about what to do.

Even though I love Eris, I couldn’t bring him to the afterlife, not yet.  The only reason I was going to bring Azriel was because I would have bound him by a bargain not to tell anyone.

I wouldn’t be comfortable doing the same to Eris.

Sam had suggested we leave without Eris, and that hadn’t gone down well with either of us.

Currently, it looked like the best option was to throw ourselves on Tamlin’s mercy.

I had helped him restore his court, so he actually could provide some protection if my brother decided to come after me.

Mother above, I hate that I have to wonder if my brother will snatch me up, try and kidnap me like others have before.

But do I really want to fuel the fire between my brother and Tamlin?

Normally, I would say no, that only a really shitty person would drive the wedge between them deeper.

But we don’t have a choice.

I sigh, and my friends both turn to look at me.

“I guess we’ll be paying Tamlin a visit.”  I grumble, getting to my feet.

Sam’s eye twitched in irritation.  “I still think we should head back to Afterlife and regroup.  We don’t have any resources here.”

I stop, thinking about it.

“How about you go back, and we stay here, scope things out on the ground?”  I suggest, letting him decide where he thinks he would be the most helpful.

I can see the decision grating on his nerves, not wanting to leave me alone here, even if this was the place I had lived for many years.

And died, to be fair.

“... Fine, I’ll go back and regroup, but if anything happens, you come back immediately.”  He said, his eyes fierce as they met mine.

I smirked.  “I’ll think about it.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes.  “Please?”

Giving in, I nod, and he relaxes a bit.

I walk over to Sam, and Eris stiffens up behind me as I take the Astral from sam.

After I have it, I make quick work of creating Wyrdmarks with my magic.

Nehemia had come up the idea of combining different faerie magics with the wyrdmarks.  We had discovered that we could use this combination to travel between worlds.

Of course, only those closest to us knew about this.

And now Eris did too.  I finished creating the wyrdmarks with darkness, and a dark abstract portal came into vision.

Sam gave me a little nod, and reluctantly gave Eris one too before stepping through.

I quickly closed the portal, turning back to Eris, whose eyes were a bit wide.

“I’m guessing you know that you can never tell anyone about that?”  I tease as I walk up next to him.

He nods, blinking away his surprise.  “Yeah, I guess I just wasn’t expecting… that.”

It takes a minute for me to realize what he means, and when I do I let out a snort.  “Mother above, did you think I was going to kill him?”  I ask, gaping at my friend.

He blushed lightly, hissing, “Well, how else do you get to the afterlife?”

We both stare at each other for a moment before we both burst into laughter.

I wheeze, saying, “Oh yes Sam, let me stab you real quick!  I’ll follow in a minute!”

We both laugh harder, and it takes a few minutes for us to regain our composure, stifling the little snorts that threatened to turn back into rambunctious laughter.

“Well, at least I know why you weren’t pushing harder for us to bring you there.”  I remark as we start walking off towards the spring court.

He blushed, and I wondered what he was thinking as he looked away.

We walked the rest of the way, talking about random things.  I told him about the rest of my close friends in the afterlife, and he told me about different things that had happened to him.

“So you have basically been trying to kill Beron while heckleing my brother?”  I ask, and he snorts.

“When you put it like that, it sounds much less impressive than it actually is.”  He pouts, and I smirk.

“You never fail to impress me dear.”  I say in a sultry tone, and he stills for a moment.

He shakes his head slightly. “I’m not playing Y/n.”

My face splits into a grin.  We always used to do this, this little game.

“Why, I don’t know what you’re talking about dear.”  I croon, swaying my hips a little bit as I walk.

In seconds he has me pinned against a tree, kissing me passionately as his hands gripped my hips firmly, making me moan into him.

He pulled away, and I whimpered at the lack of contact.  “Hey, I love you, okay?”  He says comfortingly as he pet my head.

I sighed, feeling worn out from everything that had happened today.  “I know- I just… I want to try again.  I want a fresh start.  I want it to be just you and me.”  I confess, hugging him tightly

He relaxes, holding me close and burying himself in my hair.  “We will.  We’ll have all the time in the world.  But first we have to get you somewhere safe, okay?”

I sigh.  “I know.  I hate it though.”

He laughed, and my heart warmed slightly.

We continued our way toward the spring court, and it wasn’t long until the scent of cold air and crisp leaves changed into roses and pollen.

It hits me that I scent something else on the air, a tangy, coppery smell.

My heart gutters, and I can tell Eris scents it too, because he suddenly holds me closer.

“We need to go.”  He whispers in my ear, his voice soft, but grip strong.

I shake my head, pulling away from him.

He obviously doesn’t like letting go, but he does, following closely behind me.

The dead are everywhere, torn limb from limb, barely recognisable as once being fae.

 I force myself to calm my screaming mind, keeping it blank as I assess.

The blood was fresh, the bodies warm.

And if I listen very closely, I swear I can hear screaming in the distance, coming from… From the direction of The Manor.

“They’re still here- we need to go help!”  I say, running through the field of the fallen.

I expect to hear Eris respond, but I don’t.

Stopping, I turn to check if he’s following me.

Instead I see a woman with long red hair holding a knife to his throat, Eris’s eyes blown wide with fear.

And that’s when what feels like a string attached my soul decides to pull taught. the mating bond snapping into place with Eris.

Fuck.

Fuckity fuck fuck.

#a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #a court of wings and ruin #acotar #acowar #acosf #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #y/n x eris #eris x y/n #y/n reader #y/n #sarah j maas #high lord rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhysand #rhysand sister #acotar tamlin #tamlin #autumn #autumn court #autumn court heir #amarantha #amarantha acotar

[acourtofthought]

How do you think Azriel will get a POV if Elriel doesn’t happen? Sarah already said she writes about women, so if he get’s a pov it’ll probably be similar to Cassian’s in SF. Now, Elain is the last sister and Sarah is clearly planning on giving Azriel more protagonism, wouldn’t it be the obvious choice to put them together? And Gwyn is cool but do you really think Sarah will make her a main character? I don’t think so

I don't think it would be the obvious choice to put E/riel together for POV reasons.

SJM is not finished with this series after the next book.

We know Lucien needs to discover that Helion is his father and discover his full powers. We know that Beron needs killed so Eris can take over as HL of Autumn (and the LoA's abuse and Eris's torture can finally come to an end). We need to see the Valkyrie become an elite fighting unit (and not just three females which is not the Valkyrie truly being reborn, they need to be a legion of warriors). We know Mor needs to come out to her friends. We know that Elain needs to discover her powers. We know that Spring needs restored. We know that the peace treaty needs secured. We know the Illyrians not respecting female warriors needs to change. We know we need to discover why Nesta was left with Gwydion and the Prison territory. We need Vassa's curse to be broken. We need the box Koschei hides his soul in to be found. We need the illness plaguing the Pegasus foals to be cured. We know Koschei needs defeated. We need to find out exactly why Merrill was researching the Valkryie and time travel. We need to find out why SJM wrote that Nesta would call the dead to her in the thousands, but not just yet.

It would be impossible to solve every single one of those storylines in an Elain / Azriel POV and that means someone has to get a POV after that.

So who has the power to carry a book after that? Lucien and Vassa?

Gwyn, in a single book, has had way more dialogue than Vassa over the course of 2.5 books.

Gwyn is fae and Vassa is a human.

Gwyn is connected to main characters in the NC and Vassa is not connected to any of them, she's connected to Lucien and regardless of how much of the story is set outside the NC, there needs to be a NC character who has a main connection to the leads since they are the "Gandalf" of this series. Lucien isn't going near the NC if Elain rejects their bond.

Gwyn is connected to the Valkyrie who SJM hinted at having a story beyond what we saw in SF and Vassa.......will do what after she's freed from Koschei? Lead the humans?

I'm not sure why anyone would feel Gwyn can't become a main character yet Vassa can when Vassa has shown absolutely zero interest in the fae since the war against Hybern. And like it or not, this series is about the fae while the humans take a backseat.

If Yrene could spring up as a main character with a POV in TOD which was her first appearance, then why exactly is there any arguments against Gwyn becoming one too? She's already farther along that Yrene ever was.

#gwynriel #elucien #anti e/riel

[the-lonelybarricade]

You Are Not Alone - (2/3)

Summary: Captured and held in the dungeons of Hybern's castle, Azriel receives help from the most unexecpted being—a priestess.

This takes place in the A Court of Faded Dreams universe after Chapter 50, though it could possibly function as a stand alone read. I think the context is relatively straight forward, but I definitely recommend reading the main storyline if it interests you!

Read on AO3 ✦ ACoFD Masterlist ✦ Previous Chapter

-

Azriel was going to murder Jurian.

Of course, he would need to make his way down the list of people he was planning to murder first, and that was currently a long, grotesquely detailed list. At the top was the King of Hybern, who stood smugly behind him, carelessly holding Azriel’s restraints like he was little more than leashed chattel to be sold to the highest bidder.

Which led him to the next person on his kill list—the High Lord perched on the dias above him, as well as the litter of red-headed sons standing on either side of the oak-hewn throne. They were grinning, a pack of hyenas prepared to close in for the final kill.

“A gesture of goodwill,” the King of Hybern said, shoving Azriel to his knees. “Yours to do what you wish. Kill him, sell him, trade him back to the Night Court.”

Beron leaned back in his seat, studying his prize carefully. Azriel’s arms and wings were bound tightly behind his back, and though the chains biting into his chest and shoulders were crafted of faesbane, Azriel still liked his chances of putting at least one of the Vanserras on their ass if they got too close. He curled his lips back into a snarl, wanting them to know that if they took him prisoner, he would do everything in his power to make containing him a miserable, tedious affair. Eris smirked, eager to play the very same game.

“The fae do not give gifts freely—particularly none as valuable as the Night Court’s Spymaster.” Beron tipped his chin with an authority that spoke to the centuries he had sat on that throne. Even an instinctual part of Azriel sensed the power thrumming from the High Lord and begged for him to yield.

He raged against it, baring his teeth at the Lord and his sons. Jurian kicked him in the ribs as retribution, and Azriel snarled. With his matted hair and blood stained clothes, he likely looked every inch the primitive beast the Illyrians were usually accused of being.

“As far as I am aware,” Beron continued, paying no attention to Azriel’s show of defiance, “all debts between us are paid. What is it you seek in return?”

The King of Hybern tipped his head back and laughed. The sound rattled through the chamber—as low and hollow as a wooden knocker slamming against a rotted door.

“Still so careful, after all these centuries. Have I not fostered good will between us?” Beron stared ahead at the King, unflinching in the face of so much power. The King shook his head, the way one might at an amusing, petulant child. “Very well, Beron. I wish to add additional reinforcements to the delegation from my Kingdom.”

Beron’s face was stern. “How many?”

“Three of my commanders,” The King said, then made a sweeping gesture towards Jurian. “And my human general. They’ll be overseen by my niece and nephew, who I’ve heard have been greatly enjoying your hospitality.”

To the right of Beron’s throne, there was a whisper of movement. A flicker of red hair, attracting Azriel’s attention as he watched Eris Vanserra quickly reach out and bunch the back of his younger brother’s tunic into his fist, restraining the furious male with that single gesture. It was so subtle that no one else seemed to notice.

“For what purpose?” Eris asked, calmly, drawing a flat look from his father.

“Their mission is to survey the land. Find the best place to stage our battleground. They’ll be making expeditions into Spring to examine the wall.”

Beron gave a slow, if not displeased, nod. “Very well.”

At that, Jurian delivered a sharp kick to the gap between Azriel’s wings. With his hands restrained behind his back, Azriel had nothing to slow the momentum as he fell miserably onto his stomach with a low grunt. The chains rattled through the throne room.

“Eris,” Beron called.

There was no other instruction. Brown polished shoes came into Azriel’s line of sight as Eris stepped forward—a leashed pet in his own right. Azriel was tempted to spit on the fine leather that stopped in front of his face. From the clamor above him and the way his bindings slackened for just a moment, Azriel imagined the Autumn heir was taking the chains from the King.

Then a sturdy hand tangled in his hair, gripping tightly to yank Azriel’s neck upwards, forcing him to peer into the burning amber eyes of Eris Vanserra.

“Welcome to the Autumn Court,” he crooned.

-

“I must admit, I was surprised to hear from you.”

Ianthe’s voice had a lovely cadence and an even lovelier inflection. Soft, lilting, so like the chitter of birdsong in the trees overhead. It was easy to see why she had fast become a voice of influence among the priestesses. And though Gwyn had only heard glowing praise about Ianthe, she couldn’t help feeling nervous to be walking beside the High Priestess. Likely because she was so well renowned, and so kind, and Gwyn had not been entirely honest in her correspondence.

“Many of our sisters are understandably cautious about being assigned to the Autumn Court with the current state of politics,” Ianthe continued, leading Gywn past a pair of bronze-armored sentries standing outside the solid oak doors that led into the Forest House. The personal residence of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

��Of course,” Ianthe said, pushing the doors open with an unsettling amount of comfort, like she was more than a guest to the High Lord—like this was her home. “We have avowed to stay neutral to such affairs. Regardless, I understand that being in a court central to the conflicts can feel intimidating.” They stepped into a long corridor, their footsteps bouncing endlessly down the empty hall. “But it is precisely for that reason that the people of the Autumn Court need our help more than ever. As you well know, it is faith people turn to in times of crisis. They require our help, ordained by the Hands of the Goddess, to lead them out of despair and darkness.”

“I couldn’t agree more, sister,” Gwyn said, feeling only mildly guilty for the lie. She’d had to feign twice as much enthusiasm in Sangravah to get the transfer approved. Even more to Catrin, who strongly felt this plan was absurd. “My mother is from the Autumn Court and its people did not ask to be part of this conflict. I feel strongly that they could use our support, which is why I asked to be assigned under you.”

“It has been a long while since I had a pupil training under me,” Ianthe mused. There was a fondness in her voice that relaxed some of Gwyn’s nerves. Though it was an unexpected and sudden request, there was no reason for Ianthe to suspect Gwyn was there for anything other than enriching her studies as an acolyte.

“I hope you will find my guidance valuable.” Ianthe said, perfectly content to do the majority of the speaking. “And I’m sure there is plenty I will learn from you, in turn.”

Gwyn bowed her head respectively. “I will strive to learn all I can as your humble pupil.”

“I’ve been told you’re very well studied.” Ianthe’s full lips stretched into a smile. When she reached up to push the hood of her robe down, Gwyn was struck by how beautiful the High Priestess was. Sparkling teal eyes and bright golden hair that cascaded down to her slim waist. Charming and gorgeous and clever, it was all consistent with what Gwyn had been told to expect. She could not fathom why someone like Ianthe would choose to work so closely with a High Lord like Beron.

“I just enjoy reading,” Gwyn said, cheeks already growing warm from the praise.

“Research is a very valuable skill. I can already tell you are going to be a great asset.”

Together they turned down a short corridor where on the other end, Gwyn could see a spiral staircase carved from stone. They stopped just before it, at a wooden door which Ianthe opened to reveal a spacious bedroom.

“This is where you’ll be staying,” Ianthe said. “The temple is just up the staircase, so that you can come and go at your convenience.”

“That is very considerate,” Gwyn murmured, peering into the room. It was much nicer than the accommodation she shared with Catrin in Sangravah. Gwyn eyed the large bed with longing, trying to remind herself that she was here on a mission and that it would be foolish to indulge too readily in the luxuries of Beron’s Court.

“Why don’t you get yourself settled?” Ianthe offered her a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Once you’re ready, meet me in the temple for our afternoon service, then I will give you a tour of the Forest House.”

A tour. It would be the perfect opportunity to collect more information, to see what of the Autumn Court’s ties to Hybern would have encouraged the shadows to send her here.

Gwyn flashed the High Priestess her brightest smile. “That sounds perfect!”

-

“What a pleasure to have one of Rhysand’s dogs as our very own prisoner.”

Azriel had always known that Eris liked to hear himself speak, and he’d truly believed there was nothing that could make the male more insufferable than he already was. As it turned out, Eris’s snide voice was far worsened by the inability to punch him in the face. Regrettably, Azriel’s arms were still restrained behind his back, bound by the chain that wrapped around his neck, his legs, his wings. Two Vanserras hauled him forward by his shoulders on either side. If not for his injuries and the sedative Jurian had given him before they left the Hybern Castle, Azriel would have favored his chances of overpowering them.

Though Eris was capable of winnowing them to wherever Autumn kept its prisoners, he and his brother had decided to drag Azriel through the halls of the Forest House, flaunting their quarry to every courtier and servant that passed them by. It was a means of humiliation, but Azriel was taking full advantage of the rare opportunity to see inside the High Lord’s personal residence. He marked every corridor they turned down, his shadows already slinking away to search for every potential exit. Typical Autumn Court arrogance, betraying valuable intel for the sake of stroking their pride.

“I heard they couldn’t break you in Hybern,” Eris crooned at his back, closer than Azriel expected. “I wonder if a few nights under my care might be more persuasive.”

Azriel gave a low laugh. “From what I’ve heard, a night with you will only leave me disappointed and wanting—” He cut himself off with a low grunt as one of the Vanserra on his left threw his fist into Azriel’s gut.

“Illyrian filth always running their mouth,” he hissed.

“Easy,” Eris chided, unruffled by the insult. “There will be plenty of time for that once we’re downstairs.”

A shadow darted back to Azriel from around the corner. He felt its restlessness, but before it could provide its warning, the Vanserras turned him down the corridor.

Azriel was pinned instantly beneath two pairs of wide, teal-colored eyes. He tried not to stiffen in his shock, desperate not to let his captors know how much the sight of the younger priestess—who looked suddenly to the point of tears—had rattled him. She was wearing the same acolyte robes he had last seen her in, hood pushed back to reveal her rich coppery hair. She raised a freckled hand to cover her mouth, red brows bunched together in abject horror.

No, Azriel internally begged, wishing he had some way to communicate with the priestess that she needed to put her hand back down. You don’t know me. You don’t care about me. I am nameless, nothing.

Ianthe stood beside her, her fair expression arched with intrigue. He was unsurprised that the High Priestess was not grieved to see a prisoner of war, though it made a stark—and almost amusing—comparison to Gwyneth’s outright horror.

“Pardon us,” Ianthe said, pressing a hand to Gwyn’s shoulder to guide her firmly out of the way. “My pupil is young and has just transferred from the Sangravah temple. She’s never been exposed to the facets of war.”

One of the brothers holding Azriel by the shoulder took a breath and Azriel was preparing himself for whatever cutting remark he’d need to repay in blood later.

“Excuse us for the violence, priestesses,” Eris interrupted, with more earnesty than Azriel had anticipated. “We are just transferring a prisoner from Hybern. Continue as you were.”

With that, Azriel was led away. He didn’t dare glance over his shoulder to watch the Priestess as he went, though his mind stayed with her, wondering where she was going, what she was doing here, as he was dragged further and further into the depths of the Forest House.

-

“You’ll get used to seeing such things,” Ianthe said with a frown that made it difficult for Gwyn to subdue her rapid pulse. She knew she needed to calm herself down or it would become obvious that she was disturbed for more than just a passing stranger. “The Autumn Court is rather blatant with its brutality. Other courts observe the same cruelties and simply keep it better concealed. I find that in some aspects, the transparency is refreshing.”

Refreshing. Gwyn felt nauseated.

She stared after the stone staircase, where the Vanserra’s had vanished with a bruised and bloodied Azriel. So close to where she was lodging… she imagined it had to be a sign from the mother. An indication that she was on the right path.

“I am fine, just a bit rattled,” Gwyn assured the High Priestess, putting a hand to her chest. Her heartbeat thrummed beneath her fingers and she willed it to still. “As you can imagine, I’ve never witnessed such violence before.”

Ianthe touched her shoulder sympathetically. “It will be good to get some exposure, so that you can better understand the adversities that others face.”

“Yes,” Gwyn breathed, numbly. All she could see was Azriel’s wide hazel eyes. He always kept to the shadows in the Sangravah temple, so this was the first proper glimpse she’d had of his face, caked in blood and grime as it were. His eyes were so big, trying so desperately to communicate something with her.

Ianthe was staring at her expectantly.

She forced a smile. “As you say, it is helpful to know the hardships of others, so that we can guide them from a place of understanding.”

“Precisely.

The fingers on her shoulder tightened, then released. Ianthe stepped back, pulling her hood back over her hair.

“Get some rest, Gwyneth,” she instructed. “If you need anything, the servants will be happy to accommodate you.”

Gwyn nodded, bowing to her High Priestess before she slipped into her lodgings and shut the door. She held her breath, listening to Ianthe’s footsteps grow distant as she disappeared down the hall.

Then she cracked open the door, peeking through the slit to see if anyone was coming. It was utterly silent, no approaching footsteps and no one in her line of sight.

So with a great, fortifying breath, Gwyn darted towards the staircase.

-

“Ready to play, shadowsinger?”

This time, Azriel did spit on Eris’s polished boots. The satisfaction made the sting of the resulting kick to his jaw slightly more tolerable.

“Leave us,” Eris growled to his brothers. There were huffs of disappointment, but the Vanserra grunts did as they were told, scraping the metal door shut behind them.

The Autumn Court prison was as dark as the one in Hybern, but not nearly as cold. The stone floor felt more welcoming without the biting chill of the sea, a mercy Azriel did not expect to encounter. He raised his head to meet Eris’s cunning eyes. The Autumn Lord bore all the self-importance of a sadistic god, staring at Azriel laying at his feet. His nose scrunched in distaste, the way he might stare at a bug he was considering crushing beneath his boot.

Azriel curled his lips back into a snarl. “Give me your worst, Vanserra.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Eris said, crouching in front of Azriel so that they were eye level. The affronting male reached out to straighten Azriel’s torn collar, as though he were making the least bit of difference in the Illryian’s haggard appearance. “I’ve heard your High Lord’s little alliance has decided to help me take the throne, which makes us allies. Things are about to get very ugly in this court.”

Eris was exactly the kind of male who used the term allies loosely. He never helped anyone if it didn’t benefit him in turn, and Azriel expected that meant he would be the Autumn Court’s prisoner until Eris could make a deal with Rhysand.

“And your vicious pets?” Azriel asked, jerking his head in the direction the other Vanserras had disappeared. “I think they might notice I’m not being tortured.”

Fingers dug, hard, into his chin as Eris pushed Azriel’s face back up, forcing their eyes to meet again. “I’ll keep them out of your cage,” He said through gritted teeth. It was clear his hostility was just barely leashed by their alliance. “But I want a favor from your court in turn. To be redeemed at my leisure.”

Azriel jerked his face away, like he’d been burned by the Autumn male’s touch. “I don’t speak on behalf of my court,” he said, seething.

“Then I want a favor from you,” Eris crooned in a sweet, mocking sing-song.

Torture was preferable.

But Azriel thought of those glistening teal eyes, staring at him as if he meant something. He swallowed roughly past his pride. “Only on the condition that the priestess—the red haired one—stays safe. If anything happens to her while she’s in this court, the deal's off.”

Eris raised an angular brow, intrigued, but clearly not invested enough to pry any further. It was enough that Azriel cared about her safety. An exposed vulnerability, but at least for the moment their interests were aligned.

“Fine. The priestess will be under my protection.”

“Deal,” Azriel said bitterly.

The smirk the crossed Eris’s face was disconcerting. Azriel tried not to think too carefully about what manner of favor he’d be called in to complete. He could worry about that after he was free.

“Good,” Eris said. “Then I hope you enjoy your brief stay. Make yourself comfortable.”

-

Gwyn wasn’t certain how far down they had taken Azriel. She hadn’t realized, until she embarked, just how many levels there were in the Forest House. The staircase twisted downwards indefinitely, growing darker with every step.

It allowed Azriel’s shadows to slip through undetected. Gwyn had nearly shrieked when one jumped out at her four levels ago, tugging at her wrist when she’d been about to push open the corridor. Down, it had told her, and so she kept going. Pausing at every floor only for the shadow to tug her harder. Down.

Down, down, down.

Until she heard footsteps, and paused.

Voices, distant at first, then closer. Bouncing off the stone.

The shadows pulled at her, but Gwyn didn��t need their instruction to dart out of the stairway, slipping through a large oak door. She didn’t let it shut fully—too nervous the sound would alert whoever was coming, and because it allowed her to press her face to the small slit in the door frame.

A pair of red headed males passed by, grumbling about Eris hogging all the fun. They passed by without even glancing her direction, continuing their ascent up the unending staircase. She released a breath once they were gone, counting the seconds in her head. How long should she wait, until she was sure they wouldn’t hear her shut the door?

Glancing behind her shoulder, Gwyn could see that she was in a long, dust-covered hallway, with a single door on the other end. Portraits covered in white cloth decorated the wall and, curiously, Gwyn wandered towards one to lift the cover.

Long, flame red hair greeted her, followed by golden brown skin and bright russet eyes. A handsome male, undoubtedly a Vanserra, though there was something different about him that caused Gwyn to tilt her head to examine him closer. Lucien, she recalled. The exiled son of Autumn.

Well, at least she knew that no one would likely be frequenting this floor.

“What’s this?”

Gwyn shrieked, whirling to find Eris Vanserra standing in the entryway, the wooden door propped open beneath his palm.

“I—” Gwyn scrambled to think of an excuse, and when she came up short, she admitted, “I was curious what was under the portraits.”

He raised a brow. She could tell he didn’t believe her.

“And what are you doing so far from the temple?”

“I think he’s cute,” she blurted, face burning so hot that she hoped it was convincing.

That, at least, seemed to surprise him. But pleasantly. The way a fly surprised a spider when it tangled in his web.

“You think my exiled little brother is… cute?”

“Is this where his room used to be?” She asked, pointing down the hall.

Eris’s expression soured. “Stick to your temple, little priestess. I don’t want to find you down here again.”

There was a threat to those words that made Gwyn feel like she was choking. She bowed her head in shame, hurrying quickly out of the corridor as she mumbled, “Yes, s-Sir. Er, my Lord—Lord Eris.”

He snorted. She couldn’t decipher if it was a sound borne from humor or irritation. He didn’t move as she skulked back into the stairwell, forcing her to duck beneath his arm. Those amber eyes tracked her the whole time, watching her climb back up the stairs. Even once she was out of his line of sight, she didn’t dare turn around to see if he was following.

Azriel would have to wait.

#This is for me and COTGS #I am fully expecting no one else to pay this any attention 😂 #Gwynriel #Gwynriel fic #Gwynriel fanfic #Gwynriel fanfiction #Gwyn x Azriel #Azriel x Gwyn #A Court fo Faded Dreams #ACoFD

[redbleedingrose]

Eris is a girl dad pt 3

Okay, so I guess I am doing a mini series because I have so many thoughts! So here is a discussion of your newborn babes!! Also formatting is being weird, so sorry about that 

Eris is absolutely fucking thrilled to have two twin girls! 

The entire autumn court was shook to find that the high lady had given birth to two beautiful baby girls, but the celebrations lasted for a month! 

they were born in October, and it becomes a month of celebration for centuries to come to celebrate the birth of Marwa and Twila 

These babes are spoiled from the day they were born OMG, immediately, Eris is insisting that tailors make them beautiful matching dresses for any possible occasion 

and of course, the high lord insists that the same dresses be made for his beautiful perfect wife 

Eris is the best fucking father, he is literally so helpful and caring. 

The male does not let you get up in the middle of the night unless the babes need to be feed

The moment one of his girls lets out even a whimper, he is flying out of bed to check and make sure they are okay 

immediate skin to skin contact so the babes can feel the warmth from their papa and also get used to his scent

Eris whispers little stories and lullubies his mother used to sing to him, and the babes calm almost instantly 

they are already used to papa’s voice because he used to talk at your stomach constantly during your pregnancy

While you enjoy motherhood and love your babes with your entire body, heart, and soul, Eris makes sure to remind you that you are your own person outside of being a mother 

and he makes sure that you have time for yourself, whether that is taking a long bath, getting your hair done, reading in the library he had built for you on your 100th anniversary 

The male is always happy to look after the babes, and damn, he does an amazing job doing it. 

Weaponized incompetance who? 🫡😮‍💨

While the babes are still newborns, Eris makes sure he visits throughout the day, even if he is busy with his duties, the male is constantly checking in and holding the babes, pressing kisses into their temples 

Lucien, of course, is also there to help and is the best uncle ever. The babes love him

Without any doubt, Eris is the most protective father of his newborn babes. He has ordered is hounds to stand guard wherever the babes are. 

outside the nursery? -- obviously 

anytime you take the babes on a stroll? -- without question 

the male is highly paranoid, and you would do anything to soothe your husband and mate, so you agree to let the hounds follow you 

There are also spies Eris has ordered to be constantly watching the babes out of sight 

There is no length Eris would not go to protect his two perfect girls 

Every night after the babes are put to sleep and you are in bed, Eris is thanking you as he holds you close to his chest, murmuring praises and gratitude into your hair

You usually fall asleep together, but if Eris remains awake, he will sneak out of your arms to check on the babes 

Usually both are asleep, and Eris is able to go back to bed content that his babes are safe and happy

Sometimes, Marwa, the eldest, is quietly staring up at him, curious and wide awake. 

Eris assumes it is because the babe is too excited at the new world around her to sleep 

Twila, the youngest, usually falls asleep and stays asleep until she is hungry or uncomfortable 

Eris will take Marwa out of her crib, cuddling her close into his chest, and lesuirly strolls around the house he had built for you once he killed Beron. 

He talks to her about everything (anything he can think of really)

the weather 

the constellations that night in the sky 

his hounds 

His mother

His brothers, especially his two youngest who are his favorite

he mostly talks about you 

“You have the most perfect mother Marwa”

“Don’t you ever worry about anything, Papa is here to protect you always.”

“I will never let anything happen to you”

“If you ever want anything, just tell me okay? I promise, I will get you whatever you want”

“Boys have cooties okay Marwa? So you are not allowed to talk to them until you are at least 500 years old”

“Never grow old my beautiful babe, let papa hold you in his arms forever”

AND SHE JUST STARES UP AT HIM, EYES WIDE WITH CURIOUSITY, LISTENING TO HIS MUSINGS LIKE THE PERFECT GIRL SHE IS 

she listens until she falls asleep

these are some of Eris’ favorite moments with his little girl 

Don’t worry though, Eris is absolutely bonding with his youngest, Twila 

While Marwa is the quieter and calmer of the two, Twila is her perfect compliment 

Twila is always cooing

making the cutest freaking sounds that you and Eris swoon over ugh I cannot ‼️

She is a wriggly babe, an escape artist if you will

she will find a way to get her arms out of her little swaddle 

her tiny fingers constantly grabbing at your and Eris’ fingers 

her fist knocks against your chest as you feed her

her tiny feet are constantly kicking at the air 

she just has so much energy 

While Marwa is content resting with you as you read your book during afternoon tea, Twila is quite restless

Eris is constantly taking her out into the gardens and forest that surround your home 

letting her feel and see the world around her 

He is telling her his life stories as he walks around with her...

and its like she can understand, because the babe coos back her responses to her papa 

He is taking Twila to the stables, introducing her to all his horses, hounds, and practically any animal he can find

So Marwa is the quiet, content, calm babe and Twila is the loud, curious, and restless babe

but they are so easy 

they are the best babes for you and Eris 

the newborn stage was something you were warned about, “you are not going to get any sleep” they said 

but gods, you and Eris are the best partners and parents

these babes are the most happy and content babes anyone has ever seen 

In terms of looks... 

Marwa is your exact copy… Eris likes to say that she is a mini you, and gods does he love it 

she has your eyes 

She has your nose

She has your hair color 

the only thing of Eris’ she has, is her wavey hair 

Twila is really a perfect combination of you and Eris 

she has your eyes 

she has Eris’ auburn hair and waves 

she has your lips 

she has Eris’ nose 

Eris is so fucking excited to see his babe has his hair color I cannot 

The newborn stage is incredibly fun for you and Eris

you are watching your babes grow and learn how to be alive. 

and you and Eris are there every step of the way, supporting and loving them unconditionally 

even if they poop through their daipers onto Eris’ shirt as he holds them

his horrified look he gives you makes you laugh for a couple minutes 

like until you cannot breathe 

literally gasping for air kinda laugh 

like you are laughing even after the moment has ended because you keep remembering the look on his face

even if they leave spit up on your favorite dress 

less funny to you

And mother above, the smirk Eris gives you is so smug, you almost want to smack it off his face 

but Eris promises to buy you a hundred more 

he may also whisper, “Papa’s proud, do it again” at his perfect babes

just because he wants to buy you more dresses 

and maybe cuz he likes to tease you a little 

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris x you #girldad!eris #eris acotar #acotar fanfic #marwa and twila #husband!eris