Eris Vanserra - Blog Posts

Azriel and Eris doctor and emt AU

xD thought you might need this @irithiadourden

A man with a red umbrella Will appear on rainy days And trap you in illusions which cannot be escaped. If you tell him your name, he'll take your soul.

Eris Vanserra as Mr Scarletella🩸(ACOTAR x Homicipher AU)

Also I gave him a wolf cut teehee

Eris: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its "intelligent" and "really cool."

Eris: But when I do it, I'm "petty" and "need to let it go"

For @greenvelvetcouture who set me off with this lovely image.

Also, @vermilionskiinmorning got inspired the same and it's so awesome! Loved seeing how we both approached things! Watching two completely different images emerge from the same place is like magic :)

Watercolour and pen, but you can tell that watercolour scares me and makes my fingers stiff and anxious; try as I might to be free with it like I usually am with charcoal or pastel, I'm so aware that any slip is potentially unforgivable. Boo, loosen up Tess. Also I feel like I might just need to do a lot more layering? I dunno, if anyone's good with watercolours tell me the secrets.

Anyway, a few shots here to show process (because I love seeing other people's) and how the gold behaves. Also, I totally wanted to put him in some mad colours, I bet the boy wears so much pink.

@g00seg1rl @pippsmcgee @greenvelvetcouture @the-darkestminds @jules-writes-stories @fourteentrout @mistandmemories @nus4y @chunkypossum @buffy-vanserra @molcat07 @talibunny30 @neciebee @thesourcabbage @brunetterebel010 @irithiadourden

Eris Vanserra

Inspired by @greenvelvetcouture's post

Remain

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra

Summary: Haven’t we all wanted someone to just.. yanno.. sleep with It inside? Eris relates. Az and his large wingspan provide.

A/N: hi loveys, below the divider is 750 words and they are all horny (okay some of them are just bratty and it’s all Eris’s fault 😇)

Biceps strained as Azriel caged Eris’s head with his forearms, his fists dipping the mattress as he rammed his cock forward, hips pistoning powerfully. The angle tormented Eris’s prostate relentlessly. Eris’s unnaturally hot, clenching channel was milking Az for all he was worth, each stroke more pleasurable than the last.

Only a few more thrusts and they’d be wrecked. Four rounds would overwhelm the functions of even the most ethereal fae. He was currently having Eris in a somewhat lazy position, laying his damp ginger hair against silk pillowcase and doing all the work after his beloved had nearly done ballet on his dick for at least two of those undoings.

“Haa- fuck, Eris, coming,” he bit out against Eris’s glistening temple.

“Yes, yesss, come for me Az, give me, harder, more, so good,” Eris goaded Az’s orgasm as if his ass wasn’t heavenly enough to elicit it on its own. A bit overkill really. But eris had always been extraordinarily sensual.

“With me, come with me Eris- fuck, please,” he groaned, trying to prevent post-nut guilt of coming first– or fifth?

“Well, how can I say no? You sound so pretty begging, baby,” Eris praised far too coherently for the position he was in.

Azriel buried himself deep inside Eris’s fluttering hole, his balls slapping almost painfully against Eris’s. An anatomical inconvenience. Worth it.

He spilled, letting go and releasing with Eris’s name on his lips. Eris came with him, painting Azriel’s lower abs in sweltering cum, rarely following an order.

“Fuck- that was…” Az lost his vocabularic reach and began pulling back. The heavenly sight of watching his come drip from Eris’s ruined rim was robbed from him as Eris’s hands pulled on Az’s lower back, grounding him further inside.

“Don’t– don’t leave, not yet, please?” Eris asked, a bit shy.

He stopped his retreating hips, brows raising. “Why would I leave? I’m tired.”

“No you dunce, don’t pull out, I want you to stay inside,” Eris dumbed it down a bit.

Look, it wasn’t Az’s fault his brain was no more than a marsh.

Azriel felt his jaw go slack, huffed through his nose. They’d been doing the debaucherous tango for centuries, why the fuck was this the first time Eris had asked?

“What?” Eris complained, forcing an uncomfortable awareness of how long Azriel had been looking at him like he was crazy for not asking previously. How long had he wanted this?

“What happened to me feeling perfect? You were screaming that earlier–” Ah fuck, he should really say something already, but how could one phrase I want immortal lifetimes marinating inside you without sounding like a freak?

“Of fucking course.” He settled his weight down, melting contently and calling upon the shadows to soften his landing and provide a small cushion, even as he taunted, “But when you wake up to me fucking you, I want a thank you, no whining about being crushed all night.”

Shadows snickered at his posturing as they helped heft him slightly up, still sleek and thin enough for Azriel to feel Eris’s heart thump in time with his, their chests giving and taking space as they breathed each other’s air. Dizzyingly close, or maybe it was the sharing breath thing–

POV switch teehee

Eris woke to soft grunts and shallow thrusts, pleased that Az had stayed and also because he was being fucked. This was hardly the time for thoughts.

“I know you’re awake, can see you smiling,” the spy astutely observed. Eris beamed brighter as he opened his eyes to a pretty, haughtily grinning Shadowsinger.

“You caught me, spare me the handcuffs please, m’still rather tired.”

“I’ll have to save that for later then, but I was very much looking forward to a thank you after all those pleases last night.”

“You can have your thank you when you make me come again,” Eris reasoned, closing his eyes and giving in to the smile betraying his brattiness. It was quite difficult to seem nonchalant when he could practically hear Az’s eyes rolling. His hips rescinded before slamming back in, and Eris gasped, hands clinging around Az’s neck, bracing for more.

“Conditional politeness, how very you of you,” Az husked, setting a pace competing with a sexually frustrated sprinter.

“Hnmn, fuck fuck fuck, hng, earn it.”

And he did, fucking Eris into the headboard until they were both moaning hoarsely and Eris may or may not have screamed THANK YOU like a banshee.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed !! Thank you @the-darkestminds, I am so so grateful for you, love u mami 😘 and thank you @astro-h0e-4azris for sucking off me ego 😏

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💗

My Azris babes, @nus4y @jules-writes-stories @fourteentrout @mudandmire @queercontrarian @mistandmemories @iftheshoef1tz @nightsandflamess @chunkypossum @brunetterebel010 @icey--stars @irithiadourden @3xolara @sunstar-drabbles @missblackstar @wovendreamscapes @neciebee 💗💗💗

Seat one

I get leg room and all the secrets from the Suriel

And dog on my right

And dog next to the Suriel

DOG

(I love this prompt so much)

ACOTAR Airplane Seat Game Round 4 of 4

Unsurprisingly many of you wanted to squeeze between Cassian and Azriel. That's fine, because we're currently sitting on Eris's lap. 😈

This brings us to our final plane flight. You're tired. We're tired. The dogs are also tired. Good luck. 🤞

If you've enjoyed this, please be sure to join us for Eris week this September 14th - 20th. We also have some fun surprises coming up, so keep an eye on the blog. 👀

yes this is a joke, but it's relevant because eris would buy seats for all of his dogs.

So, I just forgot that I can’t draw, so I threw this shit down. If someone knows how to color it would be nice, otherwise we all cry like this ship.

Hello, a little request here!! ❤️‍🔥

Azriel gets jealous when Eris courts a female his father has ordered him to win her favor. The sole view of her hooked to his arm makes Azriel see red, and unable to bear it any longer he's dragged to the Autumn heir's chambers where he waits for his return to make a clear statement of possession and raw desire. *winks, winks*

helloooo lovely anon!! thank you for the request!! i love it and it made me realise i've never actually written jealous!azriel so must remedy that immediately. Hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the colour of her dress that Azriel loathes the most. 

A deep emerald green, layers of silk and lace that fall on the floor like spilled ink. They trail after her every delicate step, the click of her heels against the marble grating on Azriel’s nerves like clashing blades. 

She has no name—but she smiles and holds her head high and her eyes are green, two shades lighter than her dress, and cunning. The words she says are few, but the looks that dawn on the other guests’ faces as she speaks tells Azriel enough—that she is as cruel and mean as the male whose arm she hangs off, that she is smart, that she is familiar with the game she has come to play, here, tonight.

Her wings rest folded against her back, the open back of her dress framing them perfectly. Green, like her eyes, like her dress; beautiful gossamer webbing sparkling against her deep skin. 

Eris’ hand brushes against the small of her back. 

Azriel looks away. 

The ceremony is dreadful; he does not want to be here. But Rhysand dragged him here with a single, menancing look, and Azriel hates his brother, just a bit, just enough for his skin to pull tight over his hands when he curls his fingers into fists. 

At least the stone wall against his back is cool. They are in Dawn, and the night, as it descends slowly over Thesan’s court, is pungent and bright. 

The air smells faintly of oranges, blown into the open-roof ballroom by a gentle breeze. All manner of Fae mingle together, talking in low tones or bursting into laughter or dancing, fine dresses fluttering around ankles and females dipping low towards the floor. 

Azriel tries not to stare at her—but the light refracting off her wings catches his attention more times than he would like. When his gaze falls on her, his stomach clenches, a feeling like spiders crawling up his throat causing his wings to twitch against the stone. 

He should be working—he should be paying attention to countless of other things but her: this Fae that glides across the room with an ease even Rhysand would be envious of. 

Eyes other than Azriel’s track her movements avidly; whispers follow her as she makes her rounds across the room, leading Eris more than Eris leading her. She takes a sip of the peach-coloured wine in her glass and Azriel shadow’s show him how Eris’ eyes fall to her mouth, how they linger, for a moment, on the wet curve of her bottom lip, painted a burgundy shade. 

A burning ache alights in Azriel’s stomach. Eris’ hand on her back pulls her a little closer. The golden embroidery of his tunic shines against her green dress. 

Azriel wraps himself in shadows and disappears, just as Eris looks away from her and towards him.

He reappears high in the sky, the deep purple of the nights echoing green against his closed lids. He flies all the way from Dawn to Autumn, his shadows coiling around his limbs, demanding he return. 

But Azriel can’t, because the ache in his stomach has grown into a fury that stretches and wraps around his very bones. His pulse thrums in his ears, louder even than the wind as he flies over red and golden trees. 

He dives with desperation clustering his sternum and when he lands in front of Eris’ garden doors, the earth shuddering beneath him, Eris is already there. 

Eris’ eyes are bright, his long hair dancing with the wind brought forth by Azriel’s landing. 

“Azri—”

Eris’ words are cut short by Azriel’s mouth pressing to his, by his hand cupping Eris’ neck and bringing him closer, until thier bodies are flush. 

Azriel kisses his anger and hunger into Eris’ mouth—pushes him backwards until the curtains of Eris’ bedroom part and make way for them. 

Eris grunts into his mouth and kisses him back with the same desperation, his hands cupping Azriel’s face, fingers tangling in his hair. 

“Who was she?”

Azriel presses the question against the hinge of Eris’ jaw as he pushes him down onto the bed. 

“No one,” Eris says, then groans when Azriel’s blunt teeth bite just above his collar, where Eris’ pulse is alive and thrumming and Azriel’s. 

Azriel wraps one hand around Eris’ waist and pulls him closer to him, until their hips are pressed together and Eris’ breath hitches. 

Eris captures Azriel’s mouth in another searing kiss. Azriel wishes, fervently, that the Mother would let him rest, let him live in this moment forever. Let him keep Eris for himself, tucked away somewhere no one will ever find them.

“You’re mine,” he says into Eris’ mouth. “Even if they don’t know it, you’re mine.”

Eris’ fingers tug at Azriel’s hair. He pulls Azriel’s mouth away from his to leave a burning kiss against the side of Azriel’s neck. “Always.”

captive prince au azris where azriel has to pretend not to be a shadowsinger so eris does not find out Who He Is and What He Has Done but his shadows just follow him everywhere like lost lil pups and eris is like fuck alive man how am i supposed to pretend i don’t know who you are be so fucking fr rn

Fuck. I love them.

AND I made them old.

Another present to me. Now I can't stop thinking about their life together as they age and get to ENJOY it

New Beginnings

Summary - Having two mates was never easy, especially when you all had different homes.

Warnings - Readers boyfriends definitely are not boyfriends, references to smut, swearing, drinking

A/N - you all thought I wouldn't try to get my poop in a group for my beloved @polysjmweek? Wrong. I had drafts. I'm forcing myself to post them. @acourtofladydeath, forgive my lateness. And my dropping of many things late. Closed Vs are something we had talked a lot about, and I wanted to make sure to feature one this year! A closed v is a challenging dynamic that requires 3 very secure people, and it felt so right to start my late posting with this. 

This fic was written for day 1 - who's court is it anyways?

✨️Poly Week 2025 Masterlist *link coming soon

✨️Master Masterlist✨️

“Mother, save me,” you murmured as Azriel and Eris started arguing again. Life would have been easier if Azriel and Eris were also mates, but the Cauldron decided this was much more entertaining. You sighed and got between them. They’d been arguing for several hours about which court you three would be settling into as a permanent home. Eris wanted to stay in Autumn, and rightfully so, with his chances of being High Lord so high. Azriel believed the Night Court was the best option and that he owed Rhysand his life, possibly even his first born with how loyal he was.

Your home had been immediately denied. “Why would we move to the coldest place in Prythian,” Eris had asked. Azriel immediately had agreed, stating his wings would freeze in the bitter winds of the Winter Court. 

“Rhysand needs me,” Azriel growled at Eris. “My court needs me!”

“So does mine,” Eris shot back. “I will be High Lord some day, and I have to be in Autumn to heal Autumn!” 

You sighed softly, hands on two strong chests as they glared. “Does anyone care what I think?” Both males seemed to relax at the sound of your voice. “Because I think this is ridiculous, and maybe we all aren’t actually ready to move into one home.” The silence that met that statement was deafening. You had spent the last 7 years having to bounce between Autumn and Night. a  week with Ers. A week with Azriel. A week at home, the Mountain House, a quiet comfort. Dating two males, being mated to two males, especially two males who were not interested in each other, was not for the faint of heart. You took a deep breath, eyes closing as you did. “I think we have a great thing,” you continued. “Our relationship and the dynamic we have is special to me, but I worry it isn’t special to you two. I worry that us moving in together will not be with you not-” You paused. “With you two.. Unable to cooperate and get along.”

Eris and Azriel looked at you, eyes so different. Eris was inquisitive, Azriel was stunned. You had never shown any signs of thinking there were issues within the relationship the 3 of you shared, at least, not issues you had acknowledged to them. You were such a relaxed fae and would go where the wind took you. Eris sat down, knowing this was a serious conversation time, not a fun one. He pointed to the chair across from the couch he was on, his rings sparkling on his long finger as you moved and sat. Azriel sat by Eris, leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. “How long have you felt this way,” Eris was fighting to keep his voice soft. “And why are the two of us just finding out?”

Azriel then added, “And how can we fix it?”

They had similarities, and this process was one of them. They allowed the comfortable silence to fall over the room as you thought and then took a deep breath. “I think I first started feeling this way at our first Starfall all together. I felt pulled and like spending too much time with Azriel disrespected you,” you said to Eris. “But too much time with Eris, and I was hurting you,” you directed at Azriel. “I felt.. Spread so thin.”

Eris nodded in clear thought. He was thinking over everything you had told them first before nodding, wanting you to continue. “I have tried to bring it up to both of you one on one since us in one place rarely happens, but my time with Azriel is spent-”

“Do not finish that sentence,” the Illyrian blushed.

“And my time with Eris is spent acting like the perfect future Lady of Autumn,” you smiled and held in a laugh to Azriel’s sudden shyness.

Eris chuckled, a laugh deep and full like his whiskey, “A shame, really. Sounds like your time with Azriel is much more productive than your time with me. Does she curl her -"

Azriel blushed harder, the faint pinkish-red hiding under his tan skin. “Shut up, Eris. She still has to tell us how to fix it.” They both turned back to you, “Keep talking, salvation.”

It was your turn to blush, the precious nickname Azriel had given you always enough to make your heart flutter and the bond grow warm. “I just would like you two to be friends. For you two to learn to be civil enough that we could spend time as the three of us. I don’t need you two to ever want to have sex, but knowing I could leave you two alone for 2 or 3 hours to head to market without one of you being dead when I came back would be nice.” Both males nodded. 

Another deep breath relaxed the feeling of your heart beating in your chest.  The two of them were studying each other. “It starts with addressing the elephant in the room, Eris,” You said as gently as you could. 

He leaned forward more, taking a moment to center, and he began. He told Azriel everything about his relationship with Mor, the illyrian nodding as Eris explained his choices to Azriel and explained everything he had done was to protect Mor, you, and himself. Azriel then had to explain himself as well, admitting the Night Court had a plan for killing Eris as soon as Morrigan said yes, but they had told Morrigan it would not happen now that Azriel was tied to Eris in a roundabout way. It was several hours of your mates talking, voices low and unhurried. They’d never gotten along this well and for this long. 

The conversation switched at some point, the males going from discussing their issues to the things you had known for a while they shared in common. Dancing being the biggest one. From there it became showing their dagger collection. Discussions on the hounds. Hunting. You.

Beautiful, brilliant you. 

You were the first to retire for the evening, standing in the hall between the guest room and Eris’s. Whenever the 3 of you were together, you had to make a choice on who you slept with each night, bouncing between beds sometimes like it should have been a profession. Soft hands led you by your hips, pushing you into Eris’s room. The warm scent of baked apple and fire was like a pull, drawing you in more and more. Your own hands found the ones holding you, scarred flesh, greeting them. “I think his bed is large enough for all three of us,” a voice like deep night whispered to you. “Think we can make that work? We know how happy it would make you, and it is time for us to try.” If Eris had a scent that pulled like a magnet, Azriel’s was the lock shutting you in. The two mixed, that chilled air and cedar in weaving into fire, felt like the safest combination you had ever wrapped yourself into. 

“I think we’d all fit,” the softness of your voice had him smiling.

“Then lay down. We’ll come in once we finish our drinks.”

And that night, the three of you tucked into one bed together. It felt like something new was beginning. A new chapter. One you had been hoping to welcome for far too long now.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

A Song for Spring

Chapter 2/2: 7k words

Azriel X Eris

Read on Ao3

“You’re coming too, right?” Tears burned in the corners of his eyes, and he remembered what it felt like to be sad and scared.  “I don’t think I can.” So at peace, Eris only had smiles to give. Azriel should have wanted that for his mate; he had wanted it for his mate for so long, but right then, he hated it. “I’m sorry.” 

Holla at ya boi if you want on or off the Azris tag train :

@talibunny30 @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot  @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @baileybird71 @skyesayshi  @yams-77 @buffy-vanserra @areyoudreaminof @unanswered-stars @futurehunt @ninthcircleofprythian @matrixsss @going-through-shit @c-starstuff-man0 @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @krowiathemythologynerd @cauldronblssd @hieragalbatorixdottir @yourlazykitkat @hellolordling @climbthemountain2020  @lilah-asteria  @shadowsandlint @acourtofbatboydreams @theeternalstruggle @christeareads @molcat07 @mistandmemories @neciebee @dusk-muse @chairofchaos @amalhe-kofee @brunetterebel010 @astro-h0e-4azris @g00seg1rl @queercontrarian @neverendingstay @beppyd07

@polysjmweek Day 1: Whose Court Is It Anyway?

I don’t partake in many poly ships, but you better believe I am HERE for Cassian x Nesta x Azriel x Eris. Talk about a power-cule

This is based on a scene from the exhilarating fic I Am Done With My Graceless Heart by the acotar poly ship QUEEN @greenvelvetcouture . With the way this series has gone, I feel like this prompt perfectly exemplifies the dynamic these four have got going on

So anyway not to be inexcusably horny on main but um. Do we talk about Eris enough? I fear we do not. Remember how, especially in ACOWAR & ACOSF, SJM makes it a point to remind us Beron is the oldest, longest reigning High Lord? The most cruel one? A threat people have been trying to eliminate for centuries, if not more? Arguably, apart from Rhysand, Beron is the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, and even Rhysand approaches the idea of killing him with caution.

ANYWAY. I was skimming through WAR--

HIS VOICE WAS LOW WITH WARNING jesus christ -- Eris "Sit The Fuck Down" Vanserra vs Beron "Yes Son I'm Sat" Vanserra has got to be one of my favorite scenes in this book. Suddenly I'm remembering Eris is a direct result of two of the canonically most powerful bloodlines in Autumn and I CANNOT be chill about it. We have so many hints in that book that Eris is holding back and waiting for the right moment to strike and I can't help but wonder -- just how much of his power have we seen yet? And then there's this:

I'm going to ignore Azriel's obvious "The only thing I want to be facing is Eris's mattress" agenda for a moment here and focus on another thing -- the entire NC already considers Eris a threat. They already think he's dangerous enough that it's better to have him as their brother's boyfriend an ally than an enemy. Because what happens when he inevitably succeeds in killing Beron and becomes a HL himself? What happens when he no longer has to hide just how powerful he is so that Beron doesn't suspect a thing?

I'm not saying anything that hasn't already been said in this fandom but I never promised to be anything but horny here. I just think Eris "leave it to those who know how to play the game," Eris, who Beron himself is secretly afraid of, needs a little more screen time so I can respond appropriately (bang my head against the wall)

Ok.

I get that most *sane* people would sit in seat 5 (if you like all your body parts)

But you cannot tell me that watching shit go DOWN with Mor and Eris wouldn't be the BEST entertainment

Like

Are they going to scream at each other? Burn down the plane/ crash it in some inexplicable way which is so unfathomable that I can't even think of it right now? Just stare silently at each other?

I NEED TO KNOW

(But there is no way in hell I'm sitting in seat 3, 7, or 8

I would be stabbed to death, made dumb from ballistic mind-control powers, and just killed- for each respective seat)

And I am NOT sitting near Beron

The only other seat is 6- which I admit, would be fun. But like, we gotta give Tamlin some leg room. As a tall being myself, I know how cramped it can be on long flights.

Wait no I think I forgor seat 5

Uuhhh quality bonding time for Azriel with his boyfriend's mother? I guess??? 😭

So, there's a 99% chance of me dying in seat 4, but like

In a slay way ^^

ACOTAR Airplane Seat Game Round 2 of 4

Unsurprisingly, most of you wanted to sit next to Eris and his dog. 🐶 We hear they were great flight companions. Check out the final results here.

---

How to play: all you need to do is tell us where you'd sit on the flight by voting in the poll below. Bonus points if you tell us why in comments/reblogs/tags.

[Your reasonings are hilarious & we love you.]

I'm choosing seat six- I'm sorry, I get to sit next to a dog AND Eris? Like, we all know who'd be the better conversation partner, but having Eris to look at is a nice added bonus ;) Additionally, with Elain and Nesta behind me to listen to (I'm absolutely certain Elain is an honorary member of the "reads smutty books" club with Nesta, Gwyn, Elain and Eris) and the unnamed Vanserra bro in front to... I actually don't know about him, I'd probably just keep on hitting his chair with my feet until he told me all Eris' secrets. Sounds like a fun flight! 💅💖✨️

ACOTAR Airplane Seat Game Round 1 of 4

How to play: all you need to do is tell us where you'd sit on the flight by voting in the poll below. Bonus points if you tell us why in comments/reblogs/tags.

And...don't worry these get progressively worse 😈🔥

I tried sketching the version of Eris that's always in my head, but I don't think I'm a good enough artist yet to properly draw it :)

Oh well, at least I managed to draw this! I'm really happy with it ^^

I gave him half-elf ears because he always gives me elf vibes, and earrings because I think he'd start wearing those a lot more Beron dies- as an act of rebellion, and to show that he is different from his late father.

Anyway, I'm going to go read more Azris now- hope anybody who sees this is having a good day!! 💅✨️💛💖

Wait…

Are the Vanserras fire proof or fire resistant?

That whole argument over Mor’s drawing in the cabin is ridiculous! it’s obviously

Rhysand + Tamlin

Cassian + Helion

Azriel + Eris

As the three forms with wings and the three with long hair

🙄

Eris 🤝 Tamlin 🤝 Azriel 🤝 Cassian

“Like him” - Tyler the Creator

“She said that I make expressions like him

My legs to my shoulders to my chin like him

My waist and my posture like him”

So in ACOMAF it is kind of established that although Prythian hasn’t gone through an Industrial Revolution or anything, they still have mechanical items (like Lucien’s eye).

So now I’m wondering how long it’s going to take them to figure out that rising heat (flame) can make things float (hot air ballon).

Which puts the image of the Autumn court (Eris specifically) powering solo hot air balloons around the courts

I feel like we moved on too quickly after Helion said that Azriel strangling Eris (at the high lords meeting) was going to be his new fantasy….

Like..

Hold on…

Elaborate…

Please…

SJM better kill Beron soon, cause if she doesn’t, I’m gonna have to take matters into my own hands

Nesta and Eris would have been a power couple.

Sharing a cigarette with them

He arches his back against the railings, his lean torso leans over limply - no care about how high up he is . His slender fingers drag a cigarette between his swollen pink lips . His face turns slightly, and his molten gaze finds you in the distance as he blows out a puff of smoke. His lips twitch a bit as he catches your stare . He takes a drag again before beckoning you closer with his other hand.

Hesitantly , you approach him , the smell of cigarettes and his musky cologne burn your nostrils as you approach him. " Come closer, pretty thing " he calls out to you . You hesitate and approach him even closer now at his torso .

He just stares at you for a moment before pulling you towards him , practically pressing his hot lips onto yours. You let out a squeak of suprise, allowing him to slip his tongue into you and blow his hot puff into your mouth . His warm fingers trace the bare skin of your arms causing you to shiver in his hold.

He deepens the kiss even more he dominates your own tongue . He pulls away from you, both of you panting . " Mhmmmm.. these lips are way more addicting pretty, " he praises before he smashes his lips onto your once more.

-> Azriel , Eris Vanserra , Jason Todd , Bruce Wayne , John Price , Diluc , Tartaglia/Childe , Xiao, Wriothesley , Sunday , Draco Malfoy, Coriolanus Snow , Gojo Satoru, Suguru Geto , Ryomen Sukuna

Insatiable you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 5.1k | warnings: smut, piv, mentions of death and grief

Summary: Eris’s sudden disappearance when you saw him last has left you in a foul mood for weeks. Unwilling to admit to the source of them, they aren’t as one sided as your mate wants you to think they are.

Author’s note: this is part two to It’s just to satiate the bond and is the beginnings of my gingerfucker series. Happy reading and happy belated gingerfucker birthday to all who celebrate

The bond pulled tight in your chest, a string taut, the other end clear: come here.

Eris Vanserra had another thing coming if he were to believe you were at his beck and call, mate or not. It had been a month since he left you waiting in the woods. Four long weeks of knowing something happened to drive your mate away. Nights were spent gazing at the ceiling, mulling over every encounter with him, cataloging every moan, every sigh, every touch.

That string pulled again, fanning the flames of your ire. You could feel your blood pressure rising each time he did it, each tug causing some insult to come spewing from your lips.

Entitled, self-centered, jerk.

You ignored him. Again.

Every night at midnight, like clockwork, he tugged on your heartstrings, frustration at your icy silence evident across the distance between you two. You felt a bit of smug satisfaction at leaving him wanting - surely no one had dared to leave him wanting for anything before.

Spoiled princeling.

It was the only positive from this, the only enjoyment from the situation. Your last encounter with Eris had been devastating, leaving you in a foul mood that still lingered. Everyone had been tiptoeing around you lately, unsure of what happened to cause the storm that was brewing inside.

To make it worse, your powers were leaving those around you on edge. Cassian was more reckless, more driven during training, nearly ripping Azriel’s head off last week. Azriel was more withdrawn, lurking out of sight, spending his time gods know where. Mor was snippy, petty comments flying from her mouth at whoever crossed her path. Rhysand was the only one somewhat immune to it - he was only slightly more agitated than his normal demeanor, his grip so tight on his morning tea yesterday it shattered the mug.

You couldn’t help it - everything inside of you felt wrong, even worse than when you had lost your wings all those years ago. Learning how to walk again after that felt impossible. The ground tilting in different directions with each step, any sense of balance gone. It had taken a year to feel confident in your stride, for your mourning to end. You had lost your sister, mother, father, and wings all in one night.

It had been a confusing whirlwind of pain, most of the night a blur to you. The memory that stood out the most was the scent of pecans and smoke, something almost sickly sweet. Every scar was covered in that scent, every memory singed with it. You were grateful pecans didn’t grow in Night, only available in the western edge of Autumn.

Where your mate lived.

But now this feeling of otherness, like something was wrong, was almost worse. At least you knew what had been bothering you then - there was a source to your grief, frustration, and agony. You were only somewhat aware of the source this time. He had a name, bright red hair, and a sharp tongue that made you see stars. Ignoring your calls for him did more to you than you wanted to admit.

But you just couldn’t work out what happened. You hadn’t said anything to scare him off, only reiterating that it was just sex as normal.

You didn’t like how much this was bothering you.

Eris had been at the root of so much of your life lately - the loss of your wings, the bond snapping for you, the frequent romp in the woods. Now he was consuming your nights as well? That wouldn’t do.

So now, every night at midnight, you stay up, waiting for that tug to come. And each night, the smugness was gone faster and faster each night, leaving you with a gaping hole in your chest, curling into the darkness until you fell asleep.

-

It was pure luck when it happened, another perfect storm of circumstances and choice to lead you where you needed to be most. Rhysand was gone, off to the Illyrian camps with Cassian and Azriel. Amren was in her apartment, avoiding all of you because Cassian couldn’t resist being as annoying as possible and she needed a ‘month long vacation from stupid’. Mor was - well, somewhere, you supposed. She had mumbled something about needing a break, some alcohol, and a hot fae wrapped around her.

The thought had crossed your mind that they were avoiding you, figuring out that you were the source of their agitation. Gossipy enough to discuss it amongst themselves, but avoidant enough to hope it would go away on its own.

So that left you all alone in the townhouse tonight. It was your favorite home, the other ones not quite as homey to you. The House of Wind was depressing, especially since the loss of your wings meant it was inaccessible without an escort. The Moonstone Palace was a depressing museum of memorabilia you had seen your entire life, the impressiveness of it worn off many centuries ago.

That left the cabin in Illyria you couldn’t bear to go back to. You hadn’t been back since that night, just the memory of its familiar walls making your breathing shallow. Some form of Illyrian pride circulated your veins, making your barren back too shameful to be seen. You knew what the males would say, how the females would look at you in pity, the taunts that would be thrown your way.

It was better to distance yourself from your people. They would get it, every Illyrian’s worst nightmare on display for all to see. They would flinch, shielding their kids eyes, or point you out as a cautionary tale.

That’s what happens to over ambitious females.

Waking up after your wings were gone was the worst experience of your life. Rhysand had held you while you wailed, deep guttural sounds that threatened to topple Mount Ramiel. The loss of it all had threatened to consume you.

Life as you knew it before was over and you would never be the same person you were. You would never see your mother’s smile or hold your sister’s hand again, never able to sit in your father’s study as he scratched a quill on parchment.

Grief had taken residence in your home, an unwelcome guest who refused to leave. The four of you had quickly become ghosts of your past selves. The Illyrians around you began avoiding you because of their wings. Anytime they saw you they were straining to keep them tucked in and small. You began resenting them for trying to hide the most obvious parts of themselves from you, but you also resented them for still having their wings.

Damned if they do, damned if they don’t.

Traditional mourning black wasn’t enough to convey your grief. It wasn’t dark enough to showcase the storm that brewed inside of you.

The scars on your back still itched whenever you saw the black dress tucked in the back of your closet you wore to the funeral.

The funeral was held a few weeks after their deaths - Rhysand wanted you to be more stable before being seen in public, delaying the event for several weeks, enchantments around their bodies to keep them here and preserved for as long as possible.

The appreciation you felt had never been vocalized, never being able to truly thank him for waiting. The funeral had been difficult, but you spent the whole time propped up between Azriel and Cassian. Their large bodies kept you upright, not allowing your shaky legs to give out. You were pale and sweaty, but you stood the entire time, not giving in.

The priestesses had burnt night jasmine over the bodies of your family, hoping to allow them some tranquility as they moved on from this plane of existence. Pyres were built in their honor around them, wreaths of flowers and branches were built to lay atop them.

The people of Velaris looked to you and Rhysand, the last members of their noble family. They offered words of condolences, each of them depositing a flower at your feet.

A memorial to those that still lived, to the one that survived. Their princess was spared the cruelties of another High Lord. So flowers laid at your feet, a premonition for your own future grave.

The incense and the flowers made the town square smell so fresh, but the scent of night jasmine was the most overwhelming. It still clung to the dress in your closet, hitting you every day in smaller doses. Time had helped scab over the scars, but on days like today, it just hurt that extra bit more.

You were years past that, time healing your physical wounds. Your gait was steadier, as if you had never had wings. The scars were just that - healed over skin that bothered you before the wind would pick up, as if some part of your skeleton yearned to take to the skies. The ache had subsided every time you walked past paintings of your sister that hung in the House of Wind. Saying their names had become easier. You could even tell stories about them now without getting choked up.

Now you sat in the living room, spiraling in your own fears and worries. The full moon had come and gone many times since that night, and the males responsible were dead. You should feel fine. And you usually did feel fine.

But tonight the wind howled against your window, a strong storm pelting the glass so loudly you thought it would break. Rain was falling so hard on the roof you were slightly worried it might cave in.

Worst of all - you felt all alone.

The book in your lap was little help. Several minutes went by, your eyes pretending to read, your brain running in the background. The words were nothing, gibberish slashes your brain couldn’t quite make into words. There was nothing special about tonight, but you still couldn’t shake this lingering sense of dread.

A tug in your chest shot a spike of adrenaline through you, heating your body. The last person you wanted to think of right now was Eris Vanserra.

But you couldn’t help the tiny bit of soothing you felt at the contact at the thought that you were on his mind at this moment. Which only annoyed you further. You weren’t some schoolgirl, accepting any scrap of attention you’d receive from a suitor. You were Night Court nobility, a fearsome princess. The night incarnate.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the sound startling you so badly the book fell from your lap.

Night incarnate who was afraid of a thunderstorm, you supposed.

A tree tapped the window, making your heart pump faster. Your breathing quickened, trying not to get yourself worked up. It’s fine - it’s just a storm was repeated over and over again in your head, trying to slow your breathing.

Everything would be fine.

Your self-soothing fell flat as the room filled with light, the lightning striking something close outside the window. Shards of glass littered the floor, embedding themselves in Rhysand’s hand sewn rug. A scream tore from you, panic and fear etching themselves into your soul. The thunderous beating of your heart was too hard for you to feel the desperate tugs on the string around your heart.

Your arms braced around your head, prepared for impact, but all that came was the rain. After a moment you looked up, finding a large tree limb in the living room. The tree that had been lightly tapping the window all night was suddenly inside the living room. You groaned, trying to find something to cover the window with. You could tape up a blanket, maybe?

If Rhys were here he could just reassemble the window, putting the tree back in its rightful place, but you unfortunately weren’t gifted with much magic outside of empathic powers. You could winnow and perform small tricks, but nothing to the scale of reassembling thousands of window fragments back into place.

Could Eris fix it? The brief question flickered through your mind before you shook it away. You started to make your way across the room, but a tiny shard of glass embedded itself in your foot, the pain causing you to stumble. It was the last straw, the last thing to send you over the edge. Before you knew it, you found yourself on the floor, paralyzed with fear and pain. The crack of thunder came in from the distance, but it was louder without the window. It roared inside, ricocheting off the walls, stuck in the living room torturing you.

The sound suffocated you, wrapping around your throat and making breathing a luxury you didn’t have coin for. The room was getting smaller and it was filled with the sound of the thunder and your heart beating and by the mother you were surely dying.

You were cold and wet, feeling oh so small and alone in the townhouse.

You were cold that night, too. Shivering for hours in the mountains before Tamlin had found you. Was the Mother finally here to collect the one that had escaped death?

You were spiraling into the past, unable to move or bring yourself to the present. You were convinced you could smell the scent of night jasmine if you focused hard enough. Eyes clamped shut, the roaring rain unforgiving on your hearing.

And then it smelled like smoke. Not a subtle scent, but strong and overbearing, enough to pull you from the huddled position you had been in. His warm body surrounded you, arms circling you, desperately hoisting you in the air, pulling you up with them.

That scent clung to you at all hours, a light layer of reminder of what you had been trying to leave behind.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered, more to himself. He cradled your head in his hand, pulling you to his chest. His heart rate was pulsing, the normal rhythm forgotten, replaced by some fast, erratic melody you didn’t recognize.

He pulled you away from the scene before pulling your face away, gently cradling your jaw. His pupils were blown, amber burnt out by the all consuming black that made him look more creature than male. He angled your face multiple ways before his hands slid down your arms, a slow slide of touch before they rested at his side.

Eris was silent as he looked at you, his shoulders rising and falling more slowly with each breath. The rain had soaked him, his short hair dampened by the rain, dripping onto his white tunic. The usually loose fabric now clung to his skin, some of his freckles visible through the wet cloth.

“What are you doing here?”

Eris rubbed at his chest, soothing some invisible ache. He didn’t answer, only stared at you in silence. His face was hard set, all sharp lines and angles ready to cut whoever dared come near.

“Eris, why are you here?” You repeated yourself as rain pelted in through the window, covering the right side of your body. Your nightgown was sticking to you, the robe on top of it doing little to shield you now. You didn’t notice any of it, your full attention on the male in front of you.

Eris waved his hands, a flourish as the tree limb in your living room burnt to ash. You expected the space it had occupied to flood with water, but only steam billowed in the air to reveal a fixed window. The phrase show off prattled around inside you, but the shock hadn’t quite worn off enough for you to say anything else.

“I thought you were dying.” His voice was so small in the now too quiet townhouse. Water dripped onto the floor, creating a puddle on top of the gorgeous hardwood. He looked nothing like the proud, snide Eris you knew - he looked like a boy.

“My chest was being ripped apart, shredded from the inside out. I had to- to come, to see you, to find you and whatever was harming my mate.”

Only now did you realize he was half-dressed: a loose, billowy shirt covered only some of his chest, the strings half-done to uncover part of his chest. He wore trousers but no shoes. He must have rushed over here while he was undressing.

That realization helped you crawl out of the panic stricken state you were in, slowly coming back to the surface.

“And you found a tree.”

You expected him to laugh at how something as simple as a tree could leave you immobilized. But the taunt never came. He looked just as serious as if he had discovered an attempted assassin, not bringing any levity to the situation.

“I found my mate in distress.”

He was trembling in front of you, a slight shake in his hands as he focused on you. You attempted a scowl, your face not quite making the right shape, looking more akin to discomfort.

“Tell me to leave and I will, but it has been months since I’ve laid my eyes on you and I will take every second I can linger.”

Your head wanted him gone, wanted nothing to do with him after he had left you so abruptly and then stood you up. Your mouth couldn’t even form the words, forgetting the shape to make the sounds required, as if the word had vanquished from your vocabulary.

“Why didn’t you come?” The question that had been haunting you for months now slipped out so casually, like asking for the weather or how one’s day has gone.

You couldn’t peel your eyes from Eris, watching every blink, every breath he took, searching for answers in every inch of his physical being.

All you found was the loneliness of the past few weeks reflected back at you in some odd mirror.

“I am not easy,” he croaked, his body tense and rigid.

“I don’t think anyone has ever implied you were.”

“My father-“ Eris swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing with the action. His fist clenched to the side, another crack in the careful facade. “He is not kind nor fair. He is what he thinks is fair.”

“And what do you think he is?”

A story was coming to life through his actions, but it was fuzzy and not all there. What you could see, though, was enough to make your stomach clench.

“An awful fae.”

You were circling each other, orbiting around each other, never quite getting sucked into the other’s gravitational pull. Eris’s admission lingered in the air, his tone begging not to linger on the topic.

Beron Vanserra was not a male you enjoyed seeing. He wasn’t a male you enjoyed knowing was alive, albeit hundreds and hundreds of miles away.

Some understanding clicked in your mind - somehow, Beron had stopped him from seeing you.

“Does he know about us?”

“No.”

Months of sneaking around with Eris, months of fast sex and dirty words. You thought you knew all of Eris, already quite familiar with the shape of his tongue, the curve of his cock.

And only once had he removed his shirt. You had thought the markings on his back were indentations you had left behind from an overly eager romp.

Oh how he had concealed his greatest shame from you, the most private part of himself.

But he had shown you. You just didn’t have the eyes to see it.

Old scars had lingered behind the fresh markings of your pleasure. You were a fool to not have realized until now. Bile rose in your throat as a rush of adrenaline came over you. You swallowed the bile and the territorialism down, leaving Beron for another day. Eris had given you more than he ever had before, but you needed more from him.

“Why’d you go?” Your voice came out scratchy, as if your throat were trying to keep the words inside, spare yourself from the pain of knowing the answer.

“I-“ Eris’s footsteps stopped, his body turned to face yours straight on. “You are my mate.”

His words weren’t sinking in, the fact on his lips not matching the ferocity of his gaze. “This is far from news to me.”

His head shook slightly, red, wet hair falling briefly into his eyes. He looked so pained, so full of a hope that he doesn’t expect to live up to.

“You are my mate.” The words held more conviction, as if that fact was all that kept him grounded to this world, the only thing keeping him standing upright.

“I’m your mate.”

“The Mother made me for you. I was too blind by my own fury to realize that until…”

You stared up at him, the words stalling on your lips. You had no idea what to say, how to vocalize the complexities of your emotions.

“I think of you. At all hours I find myself pondering everything about you. The things I know, what I don’t know. I-“

“What do you think you know about me?”

“I know that my lips feel empty when yours aren’t upon them. I know that your back aches from the loss of your wings every morning. My soul knows yours, my heart beating in a rhythmic prose that calls for your attention.”

His hands were warm as he cradled your face. He looked like he was trying to memorize every inch of your face, cementing this moment forever.

“Please answer my heart’s call. I have never known softness, but I know you now. I can’t make great promises - my father holds an iron will over my life. I am not easy, none of this will be easy, but I am yours.”

All the nerves that had held you hostage these past few weeks, the anxieties that plagued you in the middle of the night, were all carried off with Eris’s confession. You felt light, like every moment of your life had clicked into place to be here. Everything prepared you for the male before you.

“I am not kind nor am I gentle. I am feral. I’m not whole without you. But what we could be together-“ he swallowed back emotion, his forehead pressing against yours, needing the support to continue speaking.

“I always thought I was destined to make some poor female miserable for the unfortunate mistake of being born into whatever family my father approved of. But now I know I would rather spend the rest of my days rotting from my own loneliness than indulge the notion of anyone but you being at my side.”

“And what would I be at your side?”

“Lady of Autumn. My mate. My equal.”

You knew the odds of a political match were possible, even after your father’s death. Rhysand wouldn’t demand it of you, but he would ask the question. You never knew how you would answer.

The moment stretched on, a world of possibilities behind your eyes.

The middle child. Loved, but not the next heir, nor the baby of the family. For years now, you had been telling yourself you were equal to Rhysand, his power the only divide.

But you had known that wasn’t true. To him and the people of the Night Court, you would always be the one who lived. The baby bird without wings, unsure of her own feet.

Eris was just as resolute before you as he had been that night. The pain was blinding, nothing making sense, but Eris kept repeating something over and over into your ear.

You do not end here.

It wasn’t until now that you realized that Eris had never looked at you with pity. All these years, all the loss and heartache. It took Cassian two years before he could look at you without his eyes instinctively looking to your back.

The people who loved you most in this world were gone. Or maybe you were gone to them. Maybe both were true.

You would never have wings again, never get to feel the air beneath them as you glided across an air current. Maybe the next phase of your life was meant to be on the ground, standing on sturdy, solid, rich soil that was full of life and growth and love. The pain of the past month had crept back up, bile in the back of your throat.

“Swear it now. Swear to me that you will never disappear on me again. You weren’t there, and I-“ you weren’t ready to bare your soul to him, to show him how much his disappearance had really affected you. “Swear that you will do whatever it takes to come back to me when I call, that you will not just abandon me.”

“The very depths of my soul yearn for you. Every fiber of my body, every beat of my heart is incomplete without yours harmonizing with it. I will do whatever it takes to make my way back to you. I promise.”

You slowly undid the knot of your robe, keeping eye contact as you let the fabric fall from your shoulders. Eris shuddered, hands flexing at his side as he kept his eyes on your face.

Fingers curled around the strap of your nightgown, slowly sliding each one across your shoulder until it fell in a puddle of silk at your feet. The male before you didn’t blink, didn’t move, only watched.

“If you’re mine, it’s only fair if I’m yours too.” Even without the bond, you would have felt the surge of adoration that flowed through his veins at the admission. “I’m not fragile, I won’t yield, I won’t break. I am not a doll and I won’t be one. If you want me, I am your partner above all else.”

You stepped toward him, your breasts almost touching him. The bond was vibrating with excitement inside of you, something warm that reached your cold toes.

“We are in this together.” It was all you needed before your hand slowly crept up to his face, the magnetism of the bond in your chests pulling you toward him. You cradled his jaw, preening as he leaned into your touch.

“My mate.” A whisper from his thoughts and your lips, so much emotion in those two words. You balanced on raised toes as he leaned down, lips finding each other in the middle.

It felt like coming home after a long day, slowly moving through the house you knew every part of it and finding something new to appreciate at every turn. Warm and inviting, he tasted like cinnamon and fresh bread, some Autumn dessert no doubt.

Heat radiated off of him, surely turning the water on him into steam. Your arms wrapped around his neck, the space between feeling insurmountable. His hands cradled your back, softly laying right over your scars. Aware, but not timid. Your naked body was pressed to his clothed one, letting his tongue roam in your mouth.

Hours must have passed by the time you reached out, tugging at his shirt for him to remove it. A joke could have been made, some lighthearted comment about being bare before him while he was still dressed, but it felt wrong.

This moment required no levity, no words. You felt comfortable and safe and warm, just wanting to ride out the moment.

The two of you broke apart so he could pull his shirt over his head, his trousers being discarded along with it. Two souls bared before each other. It wasn’t your first time, especially not with him, but everything felt new.

He was beautiful in the lowlight, the rain sounds echoing the thundering of your heart. This time his gaze roamed your body, appreciating every curve and dimple.

Before it was all teeth and gnawing, scratching an itch. Rushed, uncaring, so long as you both got an end. Repressed and frantic, afraid to be caught by your own feelings.

That was then and the two of you lived in the now where you were now one entity, no clear edges to either of you. The bond was flowing between you, two souls connected in every look and every movement.

Two sets of eyes held onto each other, hardly blinking, both of them wanting to remember every thrust, every moment, every sense of pleasure.

Every emotion flowed through the golden bond between them, ebbing and flowing with every heartbeat. Each touch was decadent, each movement slow and languid, allowing time to pass without a care in the world.

The rug that had been littered with shattered glass was beneath your bodies, cushioning you in this new experience of savoring the other.

Neither of you looked away, your eyes only closing when you were kissing. A tenderness and level of devotion neither had known before. Nothing would hold a candle to this. No one would ever pull this emotion from either of them, no one would ever be exactly what the other needed when they needed it.

Perhaps no one else had ever felt this way before. So full of possibility and wanting and needing this new life to start now. So sure it was right, every touch and squeeze and stroke further proof of the Mother’s love.

When Eris felt himself get closer to that precipice, he cradled your face so softly, a tenderness he had never known. He watched pleasure through your eyes, his own face reflected back to him. Maybe the sight spurred him on, the love in your eyes so clear as he thrusted in and out.

“Mate.” The word slipped from his lips as everything he kept inside, his seed, his love, every emotion he kept hidden tight within him. It all spilled out, unable to keep it to himself.

“My mate.” The words were like a mantra, as if repeating them cemented them, made them more real.

But the words were real. This was real.

The male had never thought it possible. Thought his soul too rotten, too foregone to have a mate. To have someone tethered to him for the rest of his cursed existence.

He fought it. He didn’t want it. Didn’t want to watch as he corrupted and destroyed his mate.

But you were more than some delicate thing he could break. You weren’t a thing to break at all. Every piece of you was aligned perfectly with him, every shape and crevice molded for the other to hold for all eternity.

Despite it all, despite the atrocities he’s witnessed, despite the terrible things he’s had to do to survive, despite the person he had to become, Eris Vanserra had found something to live for.

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Author’s note: eeeeee you guys LOVED the first part and I’m SO excited to finally get this second part out. Mwah 😘