MASTERMIND - MASTERLIST

MASTERMIND - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: A child of light and dark, you are the Night Court’s best kept secret. After decades spent in hiding, you yearn to stretch your wings. But you quickly learn that freedom comes with a price, as you find yourself trying to outfox the fox himself in his own den.

PAIRING: Eris Vanserra x Reader

CHAPTERS: smut indicated by ***

prologue 

one - the equinox

two - falling water***

three - color theory***

four - moon and stars***

five - checkmate***

six - coming soon

in his eyes 📸

pairing: charles_leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: not proofread hehe plz expect errors! seemed like it was a good idea so 🤷‍♂️ lmk what u guys think!

about: the launch of lec.jpg on instagram drives everyone crazy well because - majority of it is just you.

lec.jpg

liked by daniel.jpg, landonorris, pascale_leclerc, and 1,782 others

lec.jpg The most beautiful woman to ever walk the Earth. I just fall deeper in love with you every day.

P.S. Still unsure whether we'd finally get a dog 🤷‍♂️

daniel.jpg Such good pictures, mate! Beating me at my own game now? 😆

lec.jpg I just have the prettiest muse that's all

yourusername do you promise to attend to him if he goes number 2 or are u gonna leave me alone 🤔

lec.jpg

liked by alexalbon23, maxverstappen, lorenzotl, and 1,113 others

lec.jpg Had the best time tonight with the greatest girl in the world 🌍 Never a dull day with you, amoúr

carlossainz55 So sweet it physically pains me

landonorris Amazing, Daniel owes me 50 dollars

lec.jpg What was the bet, Lando?

landonorris That this account will be filled with Y/N's pictures 🫢

lec.jpg

liked by isahernaez, arthurleclerc, pierregasly, and 1,073 others

lec.jpg My baby and I in black and white 🤍

pierregasly A smile wouldn't hurt

lec.jpg Timer went off earlier than it was supposed to 🤷‍♂️

lilymhe My fave couple! ❤️

lec.jpg

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen, pascale_leclerc, and 1,450 others

lec.jpg Went karting with Y/N today, safe to say she is very lucky she's pretty hahaha i love you still, baby

yourusername i went easy on you cause your ego wont be able to handle it 😷

lec.jpg Okay Ms. Can't Drive Straight

lec.jpg

liked by pierregasly, lorenzotl, landonorris, and 1,001 others

lec.jpg Abu Dhabi. My lucky charm in the paddock all ready to cheer me on ❤️

yourusername my world champion, je taimè 😘

lorenzotl Best of luck, brother!

danielricciardo Charles come on I don't want to lose another 50 dollars to Lando can you post my face just once

lec.jpg

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55, maxverstappen, and 1,293 others

lec.jpg So incredibly in love with you it's unbelievable

yourusername the exact same can be said to you, you know?

arthurleclerc Tell Y/N the cousins miss her

arthurleclerc Just her, not you hahaha

lec.jpg 🤦‍♂️

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tagging: @slytherheign

notes: currently working on split's part 2! let me know if u guys want to be tagged <33 thanks so much for reading!

Blood moon in Autumn

Pairing: Eris x Rhys’s sister!reader | WC: 1.3k | warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of sex, mentions of violence

Summary: fae cycles are no joke, but your mate is always there to provide you comfort in the best way possible: by being your personal heating pad

Author’s note: this is part of my gingerfucker series, however this can be read as a standalone. @writingcroissant actually gave me the idea for this so everyone say thanks Tori 🥰

Death was imminent, you were sure of it. Every fiber of your being ached, the pain emanating from your lower abdomen through the rest of your body. It felt like someone was stabbing you with a rusted, dull knife, the blade carving out your insides slowly at their leisure.

You heard your bedroom door open and close, footsteps coming towards the bed. You groan in greeting as the steps get closer.

“Just leave me here to die, Er.”

A soft chuckle makes its way to your ears, despite the layers of blankets you are burrowed beneath, the blankets not offering you the comfort you so desperately crave.

“You’ll be remembered for even in death, your flare for the dramatics never faltered.”

You push your face from the blankets, allowing your face to be seen. You scowl towards your mate, his smirk making you want to push him from the window. You take in the sight of him - he had changed into more relaxed clothes since you saw him last. Gone is his formal jacket, a deep red velvet with golden leaf embroidery. The garment would make anyone look like court royalty, but on Eris it made him look positively radiant, as if the fires of Autumn truly originated from him, as if the apple orchards and the crops found their nutrients from him. You loved when he wore it, your fingers tracing the fine embroidery along the lapel as you would straddle his lap, grinding softly-

You groaned, the idea of moving so much making you nauseous and slightly dizzy.

Now he wore a loose, billowy shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, casual brown trousers covering his toned legs. If it were any other day, you’d devour him. Any other day, you’d pull him directly into bed, pushing his clothes off of him, neither of you leaving bed until you slipped his shirt on to grab the two of you some pastries.

Instead, the sight of him made you slightly annoyed - he seemed fine as he set down a tray on the table next to you. He was fine this morning when he rose, having to tend to some things before returning. You were dying, and he was perfectly fine. You groaned, shifting to sit up on your elbows. “What’s this?”

“I believe those of us who leave our beds call it ‘food’.”

His smirk disappears at the pillow that hits his feet. He sends you a withering glare that just makes you scoff. “That could have hit the tray of coffee I made for you.”

You perked up at the sound of coffee - you were sure the warm liquid would at least distract your insides. Or at least provide you some comfort.

You’d take anything at this point.

“Did you make the coffee? Or did you just prepare the tray?”

“What difference does it make? Coffee is coffee.”

“Well, if Jora made it, then I aimed perfectly for your feet.”

“What if it was my coffee?”

“Then I would have aimed for the tray.”

He gives you a withering stare, his fingers halting their movements. “Now that’s no way to treat your mate who lovingly made you coffee.”

You squint your eyes, “if it’s my mate that’s making the coffee, it’s more of an assassination attempt than love.”

“You wound me, my love.” Despite your grievances, he continues preparing your cup exactly as you like it.

“Is the wound fatal?”

“Perhaps.”

“I shall pay my respects at your funeral, then. With my next husband.”

His eyebrow quirks as he rests the cup on your side table before he rounds the bed, peeling back the layers of blankets on top of you. He crawls in behind you, his body heat causing you to melt.

“Next husband?”

“I will get lonely. Besides, the hounds need a male’s touch. They’ll grow soft under me.”

“And who is this next husband? Is he capable of this?”

Before you can ask what ‘this’ is, he slides his arm around your waist, his palm lying flat over your lower abdomen, his fingers spreading across your skin. Your skin began heating under his touch, and you moaned at the relief he provided you.

“If he’s not, he’s not worth it. Perhaps one of your brothers will be capable. Lu, maybe?”

Eris growled at the teasing, your friendship with Lucien a constant sore spot for him amidst his rekindling relationship with his youngest brother. He hated to admit it, but he seethed with jealousy watching you interact with Lucien, the way your conversation would flow easily.

A life of regrets and Lucien takes several of the top five spots.

“Lucien would make a terrible husband. You’d never see him - he spends all day brushing his hair.”

“I like a well-groomed male.”

“The noises his eye makes would keep you up all night.”

“I think you’re getting us confused. The whirring would soothe me to sleep.”

He buries his face into your neck, mumbling, “you are not marrying Lucien.”

“Alastor, perhaps?”

You clutched onto Eris’s arm, the heat providing you some relief. You nuzzle your head into his bicep, and he blows out a hot breath, “if I die, and you are unable to continue alone, marry outside of my family, leave my brothers out of your marriage pool.”

You open your mouth, but he cuts you off.

“Not Azriel.”

You huff, “well if I can’t have a Vanserra or Azriel, I’ll stay alone forever.”

“I prefer that alternative.”

“I will rule Autumn alone. Just as Beron would have liked.”

You spin in his arms, pushing his shoulder down so he’d lay on his back. You crawl on top of him, laying so every inch of you is touching him in some way. Not an inch of space exists between your bodies. You poke his ribs, urging him to start heating up. He ignores you, so you start tugging on the bond between you two.

“Patience is a virtue, don’t they teach that in the war camps they call villages?”

“I’m dying, I think the Mother can forgive my lack of virtues.”

He huffs, but starts warming his skin to better provide comfort. You groan, laying in silence with him for several moments, the heat a comfort to the constant pain.

A few moments later you roll, your back laying across his chest.

“Ah,” you sigh, the pain in your lower back lessening at his touch.

“You’re spinning like game over a campfire.”

He rests his hands on your lower abdomen, the warmth making the stabbing pain into a dull ache.

You sigh at the contact, practically melting at how he soothes your muscles.

“I want to go bathe but that requires movement and leaving this bed.”

Eris laughs into your hair, but you hear the water running in the bathroom. You groan just thinking about how soothing the water would feel on your joints. You breathed out slowly through your nose, preparing yourself for the trek across the room.

You rolled off of Eris, and before you could get off the bed, Eris moved from behind to in front of you, his feet landing softly on the floor.

“Care for a ride?”

You nod, and his arms sweep you up.

“I think this is my preferred method of travel.”

“Perhaps this is how you will tour Autumn, hm? I shall carry you throughout the lands.”

You laugh as he sets you down, helping you remove your clothes. He must be warming the air somehow, because you don’t feel the chill of the air when your clothes are completely off. He helps you into the water, which you melt into immediately. You close your eyes, laying back in the tub, the porcelain a nice surface to lean against.

You’ve completely forgotten about Eris’ presence until you feel him nudge your shoulders forward, his lean body slipping behind you into the tub. His legs stretch besides yours, and you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“There’s no way my next husband will be as helpful as you are.”

He breathes out through his nose, “I fear you can only marry down from here. A pity, truly.”

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Thanks for reading 💕

✎ LOVE ENTRIES — an anthology | gojo satoru

a series of episodes of your life with the strongest sorcerer throughout the past and present

genre: canon compliant (2006-2018), mostly fluff, suggestive content, hurt/comfort

more: moodboard | extra scenarios 💌 | reader’s CT | ko-fi

p.s. got an idea for the next entry? drop it in my askbox!

☆⌒.*･ entry year : 2006—2009

entry # attraction ➴ to think it started with your crush on his best friend...

entry # rivals... in love? ➴ gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?

entry # say no! ೀ valentine's special ➴ valentine's is around the corner and word has it that you're going on a date with geto...? no way! gojo is going to make sure that you're saying no! ever wonder how gojo finally gets you to become his? be prepared for a confession of a lifetime!

entry # stupid liar ➴ no way. impossible. you couldn't possibly be jealous of gravure idol gojo likes so much now... or could you?

entry # unconcealable ➴ your boyfriend may not show it, but the six eyes are his burden to bear. you know it firsthand when he falls into your arms for the first time

entry # love wins all (soon!) ➴ haibara's death. geto's defection. nanami's leaving. when everything goes wrong in your third year, the last thing you would expect is your boyfriend breaking up with you. but to gojo, this is a moment of truth—and through this, you'll realize why he chooses to stay with you for good

⭑ — ☁️ side stories

rivals... in love? — extended cut!

hot, hot summer!

☆⌒.*･ entry year : 2010—2017

entry # finally mine 18+ (soon!) ➴ gojo says he’ll make you droll when you have your first time together. you are determined to seduce him to turn the tables!

entry # stay with me (soon!) ➴ comes the biggest conflict in your relationship when you realize that you might be pregnant. this event, for better or worse, will change the trajectory of your relationship forever

entry # wife her up (soon!) ➴ it's a canon event that animals and babies aren't particularly fond of the strongest sorcerer… but you, you’re always going to be his no matter what

entry # insatiable 18+ ➴ your boyfriend is hot and wild, and he has one problem: he always finds you too pretty to resist

entry # forever ➴ the three times he asked you to marry him

entry # newlyweds 18+ ➴ you and your new husband make out in the most inappropriate place possible

entry # kyoto: the onsen incident 18+ ➴ it's your first trip as a married couple and you should be excited—until a shameless woman makes a move on your husband!

entry # to my beloved ➴ bad days don't mean the end of the world, and your husband is making sure you know that

entry # my wife, all mine ೀ valentine's special ➴ years pass, but one thing that's constant is how annoyingly your husband is in love with you. with the new school year comes a fresh batch of first years, and gojo is determined to make you look at his way—he's way better than those youngsters, and he's going to show you just that!

entry # wedding anniversary 18+ ➴ seven years of dating, two years of wedded bliss, and gojo is having his greatest existential crisis yet... all because this year, you apparently have forgotten the most important day of your lives

entry # daddy-to-be ➴ in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby

entry # sweet felicity ➴ what do you get the man who already has everything for his birthday?

entry # protect ➴ the word “protect” now means so much more to him

⭑ — ☁️ side stories

05.56 P.M — how gojo gets arrested by the police

07.55 A.M — gojo cheated on you last night

12.34 A.M — blindfold play 18+

12.55 P.M — first ultrasound

04.18 A.M — six weeks pregnant with gojo’s baby

08.45 P.M — cockwarming 18+

11.07 P.M — what if you get a divorce?

03.12 A.M — ungodly hour cravings

07.30 P.M — gojo vs your pregnancy hormones

before the dawn — finding out about geto's ultimate betrayal hits you hard

08.25 P.M — at the end of this pregnancy journey, you fall in love with your husband once again

baby pics — photo album of baby satoru

⭑ — extras 💌 pregnancy diaries ❀

☆⌒.*･ entry year : 2018—present

special entry # through megumi’s eyes (soon!) ➴ megumi’s life ends and starts when the strongest sorcerer takes him in. see your love story through his eyes, his hidden feelings, and extended scenes of several love entries!

entry # baby ➴ a domestic life with your husband and baby

entry # heaven's fury ➴ sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again

entry # wife ➴ in which the new batch of first years are unaware that their eccentric teacher’s wife is the pretty woman roaming the school grounds

entry # sick days ➴ who holds the fort when you fall sick? of course, it's your lovesick husband and baby!

entry # mission: baby steps! ➴ the three times gojo tried to make his baby love him (and how he miserably fails)

entry # the babysitters club ➴ in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son!

entry # throughout heaven and earth ➴ a sudden mission. a curse beyond your grade. all hell breaks loose when gojo realizes that there are hidden machinations behind the incident that befalls you

entry # baby to the rescue ➴ in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman

entry # beach day 18+ ➴ in which the three of you (you, your husband and baby) spend the weekend on the beach!

entry # treasure ➴ the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them

entry # curiosity 18+ ➴ when gojo is found out by his own son during your nighttime activities

entry # all of me ➴ you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most

⭑ — ☁️ side stories

09.45 P.M — how scared he is to lose you

11.10 P.M — meeting the newborn for the first time

06.27 A.M — gojo with his baby in the morning

06.20 P.M — baby doesn’t let gojo kiss you

11.52 A.M — gojo will show baby who is here first

10.00 A.M — gojo trying to get his baby say his first word

02.33 P.M — baby going to the aquarium for the first time

07.02 A.M — morning with you and his toddler son

08.12 A.M — why your son isn’t in your wedding

© CHULUOYI. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any platforms.

12:03 pm  — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo tries to convince his first years that he was able to pull you.

contents. fluff, crack??, whipped!gojo, mentions of having a kid, he is SO in love with his wife it's disgusting, the first years are sick of their teacher

“[name] sensei is a good looking woman, isn’t she?” yuji remarked, nonchalantly propping his feet up on the desk. “you think so too, right gojo sensei?”

a sly smile played on the corners of gojo's lips, eventually blossoming into a wide, dreamy grin. “good eye yuji! she's undeniably the most beautiful woman on this planet.”

megumi, seated at the desk beside yuji, couldn't hide his grimace.

nobara's expression mirrored that of a disgruntled sea urchin. “dream big, you two. she’s way outta both of your leagues.”

“she is, isn’t she?” gojo sighs dreamily, his gaze far away. a dopey grin settles over his face; like a man walking on air. it was deeply unsettling to the first years to see a grown man behave this way.

megumi rolled his eyes and muttered his disapproval, choosing to ignore his sensei, who had casually seated himself backwards on a chair.

gojo propped his chin with both of his palms, leaning closer into the first years students. “do you think i’d stand a chance with a woman like her?”

megumi buried his face in his hands, audibly groaning in response.

“a sensible woman like that and you? fat chance.” nobara deadpanned, squinting disapprovingly at her teacher. her negative comments elicit a grunt from the snow-haired man.

yuji’s eyes flit nervously from kugisaki to gojo. 

“sensei! i think you have a chance with [name] sensei!” yuji tried to reassure his white haired teacher, offering a thumbs-up. gojo responded by affectionately ruffling yuji’s hair.

megumi couldn’t help but speak up. “she’s a married woman, you know,” he mutters to his friend.

yuji’s eyes widened,  “you’re kidding! who do you think got the honor?” 

“but she’s so young!” kugisaki exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. 

their discussion is cut short when the shoji doors of the classroom slide open abruptly.

with hands on your hips, you stood sternly before your first year students and their teacher, an air of authority about you.

satoru couldn't help but gulp; you were indeed captivating when you were upset. it’s not his fault that you look so cute when your eyebrows furrow and you puff up in anger.

“i waited for half an hour in the courtyard to start today’s lesson and yet here i find my students, along with their sensei who should be in kyoto for a meeting.” a wry smile graced your lips, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. the three first years bowed their heads in shame.

yuji thinks this is the first time he’s seen his teacher nervous. a bead of sweat appears on the side of gojo’s face.

“honey!” he quickly stands up and walks towards you. with every step he takes, nobara’s face scrunches up at his disgusting conduct. 

“don’t.” you warned, raising a finger up to keep satoru at an arm’s length. he respected your wishes to some extent, grasping your hand and placing it within the hold of his own. the diamond on your ring finger glistened as satoru toyed with it.

gasps filled the room as yuji and nobara observed the display of affection. just how inappropriate could their sensei get, and why were you allowing it? what would your husband think?

satoru tenderly caressed your hand in his, cradling it as he leaned in closer. “please forgive me; it was an honest mistake.”

“honest mistake my ass. yaga told me that this is the second meeting you’ve skipped out this month,” you stated, peering fiercely into his blindfolded eyes. satoru’s cocky demeanor wavered, replaced by a nervous chuckle.

“the first time was when i took you to naha, remember?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “and if i remember correctly, you enjoyed our night out,” your eyes widened, recalling the romantic trip satoru had organized. 

feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you attempted to pull away, but his grip on your hand tightened.

“forgive me?” his voice softened, lips curving downward, giving him the appearance of a dejected kitten.

a sigh escapes your lips. he was going to be the death of you.

“fine. but this is the last time,” you warned, “and you owe me for covering for you.”

satoru straightened up, nodding fervently. “have i mentioned how much i love you?” wrapping an arm around you, he placed a kiss on the top of your head, despite your futile attempts to stop him.

“this is…” yuji’s jaw dropped.

“so inappropriate! shame on you!” nobara’s chair makes a harsh screech with how fast she leaves it to come to your aid. 

“kugisaki–” you attempted to calm her down, but she clung to your elbow, desperately trying to pry you from satoru’s embrace.

satoru’s hold on you tightened as he wrapped his other arm around your frame, pulling you close. he plops his chin on top of your head and resists nobara’s attempts to free you. like hell he’s letting anybody take his girl, not even his own student.

“crushing on a married woman is one thing, but to openly flirt with her– ” kugisaki struggled. you tilt your head in confusion. 

satoru’s strong arms flexed as he fought to maintain his hold on you. he nuzzled your neck. “’m fine right here,” he inhaled deeply, as if trying to take in as much of you as possible.

“[name] sensei! how can you stand there and let this man disrespect your marriage?!” nobara implored, wide-eyed, disregarding all respect she had for her teacher.  “how will your husband react when he finds how gojo sensei behaves around you?” she looks desperate, and you want to laugh at the sincerity behind her actions. you get it now.

only your idiot husband would pull a stunt like this.

“i hope your husband can fight because i’m willing to fight him to the death for your hand,” satoru mutters from your neck. you take your hand from nobara’s shoulders to shove the six-foot-three giant away.

“you seriously didn’t tell them, satoru?” you ignored his whiney protests as you created distance between the two of you. 

“tell us what?” kugisaki demanded. yuji was on the edge of his seat, nervously watching the unfolding scene, while megumi put his head down in embarrassment.

satoru looks at you with a deep frown on his face. uncertainty clouds your mind as his silence forebodes something. wetting his lips with his tongue, he quickly closed the gap between you, too fast for you to escape. a secure hand rested on your lower waist as your husband dipped you down to deepen the kiss. 

had you not been so absorbed into the kiss, you would have heard the scandalized gasps from your students.

you managed to place a hand on his chest to separate yourselves, “satoru, stop.” his eyes remained fixed on your lips, but he complied.

“yuji, nobara.. satoru and i are–” you hold up your ring finger for display.

“happily married!” your husband finished for you, a triumphant smile on his face. he squeezed you close, throwing up a peace sign. “been madly in love since i met her!” 

“what– no way! you pulled her?!” nobara spluttered, head whipping from satoru to you, unable to wrap her mind around the revelation.

yuji’s jaw is still on the floor, “megumi, you knew about this?!”

the sea urchin looks the other direction, avoiding his friends’ judgemental gazes.

“they… raised me.. sorta..” he mumbles under his breath. your heart melts at his confession. unlike you, the other first years don't take too kindly to his comment, as they start shaking him by the shoulder and starting their own interrogation.

“and we did a good job too! don’t you think we’re ready for our own?” satoru smiles down at you jokingly, his hands snaking around your waist and his hands sneaking onto your stomach. he leaves a couple of soft pats. 

“you’re cuter when you’re quiet, y’know?” you whispered. taking advantage of your students' attention on megumi, you place a single finger on his lips, hoping your husband does not notice the way your face feels like it is on fire. 

he does.

“no need to be shy now,” satoru said, grinning wolfishly, “we’ll continue this at home.”

your face flushes even deeper.

unbeknownst to you, the first years had fallen silent, observing how gojo whispered in your ear, successfully turning you into a flustered mess. perhaps they should give more credit to their sensei.

notes. not proof read (oh no). this was just a random scenario that has been plaguing my mind during halloweekend so i typed it on my phone at a party LOL this is me desperately trying to get out of my writing slump

First Impressions - Azriel x Vanserra Reader

Summary: Your first excursion away from the Autumn Court to sit in on the High Lord’s meeting doesn’t go without a hitch.

Word Count: 2782

Warnings: Angry Azriel, Eris’s dumb mouth, Violence

Masterlist

“Keep your head high. Keep your mouth shut.” Eris straightens the collar of your coat, choking down his apprehension. Mother hen. “Don’t make eye contact and do not engage. Only speak if you’re spoken to and whatever you do, do not antagonize the Night Court.” You roll your eyes, removing his hand from your collar to hold it gently in your own. You soothe him, meeting his worried eyes with your own. 

“You worry too much, brother.”

“I do not worry nearly enough, sister.” He pulls his hand away from yours, instead placing it on your back to urge you forward toward the throne room. You’ll be leaving home today. For the first time ever. Sure, you’ve seen all there is to see in the Autumn Court, from the ports to the forests to the cities to the hovels. But you’d never visited another court, and you were overjoyed at the prospect. When your father told you that you’d be accompanying your family to the Dawn Court, it took all of your self-control to keep your excitement unknown.

“Who all will be there?” You quietly ask, ensuring your conversation remains unheard by your father's shadows. Eris first replies with a quick shake of his head, tightening his grip on your back to urge you faster.

“The High Lords and their immediate subjects. I’m not sure if Tamlin will be present. If he is, it’ll be a shitshow. Do not speak to him-” you cut him off.

“Do not speak to anyone; do not make eye contact with anyone; stay with mother. Yes, father.” He gently smacks the back of your head. You choke back a laugh, swinging out of his grip to smack his shoulder. 

“Don’t call me that.” He says, a boyish grin brightening his cheeks. Your own smile hurts your cheeks as you grab his hand in yours once more.

“Then fuss less. I’ll be good. I promise.” He gives your hand a tight squeeze before he releases you, taking steps to distance himself from you as the great entrance of the throne room comes into view. Before you can continue, you pause in step. Your mouth opens and closes, question like a stone on your tongue. Eris notices, of course, and halts his own movements.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, and you give him a sad smile.

“Will Lucien be there?” You’d been so young when he’d fled. That night was the cause of a hundred years of nightmares. Nights that had been spent with Eris, silly stories and games keeping your mind from the horrors you’d witnessed as a child. You’d not seen Lucien since, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. Eris frowns, his shoulders drooping for a fraction of a second before he continues his pace toward the rest of your family.

“I’m not sure.” He whispers, and you remain silent for the rest of the short journey. Seconds before you step foot in the grand room, your perfected dissimulation slides into place. You’d been forced to charade since you were a babe, and you had the best teachers. You poke at your shield, ensuring it's in place, as you meet your mother's somber eye. 

Slipping next to her in effortless fashion, you watch as Eris takes his place next to your father. Your remaining brothers, Bastian and Alarik, stand at attention on either side of the High Lord and General, all mere steps ahead of you and your mother. Your father speaks, his voice harsh and slicing with finality, as he turns to meet your eye.

“Do not disappoint me, Y/n, or you will remain in this palace for another two hundred and fifty years.” And with that warning, you meet Eris’s eye once more as you slip out of Autumn and into Dawn. 

The Dawn Court could only be described as magnificent. Your mother holds your hand in a gentle grip as you arrive with the rest of your family on an angelic veranda. Your gaze rises first to cotton clouds teasing a periwinkle sky, wisps of pink and orange tinging their billowing edges. You stare into the sky for seconds, content to gaze forever, before the tightening grip of your mother's hand in yours draws your attention to the marble floor beneath you. Veins of deep black and pearlescent white mark the stone and lead into the grand palace and home of Thesan, the High Lord of Dawn. Pillars line the entrance and as your sight rises upon the sunstone facade, lavish balconies and stunning archways call your attention. It’s the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. And you've only been here for seconds. A great palace set upon a mountains peak. The stories you’d read and heard paled in comparison to the real thing. 

Your mother squeezes your hand once more, her thumb smoothing your skin with a gentle touch as she motions you forward. You follow as your family is led further into the palace by an attendant. Your mother's hand in yours is a gentle but firm reminder that this is not a visit for pleasure. You find Eris’s back, his posture rigid. If you could see his face, you knew you’d be met with the emotionless eyes and a facetious smirk he’d perfected over centuries of harshness. As you pass underneath another gilded archway, you feel your own facade slipping into place. He’d spent years teaching you how. You’d be damned if you let him down now. 

You can feel it the closer you get to the war room, the stronger the aura of pure power becomes. You feel it in your bones—a dangerous mix of pure disasterous magic that could only mean many powerful beings waited ahead. High Lords, you imagine all of them. Old and strong, it brings chills to your spine, and you throw needles against your own shield, ensuring it’s strength—a pity in comparison to the influence of those ahead. You feel a tinge of relief when you feel your father’s own shield expand to cover you and your mother. The smoky scent and warm touch of your High Lord’s magic offer the barest sense of relief.

Your father and Eris enter first, and as your remaining brothers follow behind, you catch a glimpse of evil grins on their faces. The tips of their too-white teeth are a nasty warning to those ahead.

“Enough.” You hear Eris command, and you know he speaks to keep Basitian and Alarik in check. Finally, you and your mother take a few final steps into the meeting chamber. You keep your head down as you’d promised him you would, your fingers tightening against her hand still in yours. Following her lead, you slide into a luxurious oak chair. Your gaze seeks Eris first, sitting just two seats away from you on the other side of your father, and your shoulders relax immediately as his empty eyes meet your own. He gives you a subtle nod, and you exhale softly, allowing your eyes to wander the rest of the room. It’s Lucien you now seek. When you fail to find his once-familiar deep red hair, you find your heart sinking into your chest. 

Instead, your gaze lands on dark swirling shadows, cognizant and conscious, surely whispering of every breath, every fidgeting movement of the inhabitants of the chamber, and every available secret to the master they surround in a dangerous cacoon. He’s beautiful, you think. Intelligent hazel eyes observe every person and shadow in the room, and dark hair rests in a perfect manner against his sharpened brow and tan cheekbones. Your eyes lower to his arms, large with chiseled muscle and marked by the swirling black ink of bargain tattoos and the lively shadows that surround him. You find his hands and feel tightness in your chest at the sight. Melted skin stretches against the veiny muscles and long fingers.

Burn scars, you know. You have your own, and you know how difficult it is to permanently scar a fae. You catch sight of his siphons, two deep blue ovals attached to the backs of his hands, held in place by dark gauntlets. Encased is pure power. But it’s his wings that halt the beating in your chest. Colossal, powerful, and simply incredible, the dark, scarred leather takes your breath away. Azriel, you think. Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court. You’d heard many stories about the lethal Illyrian male now in front of you, sitting just a few feet away from you. He sits across the table from Eris, and the deadly glare on his angled face brings a chill to your spine. 

“It’s no surprise that you’re tardy, given that your own sons were too slow to catch my mate. I suppose it runs in the family.” The High Lord of Night breaks the strained silence of the room, and you fight back the shiver at the pure power emanating from him. You subtly test the shield that surrounds your family, ensuring it still stands against his thrumming, dark power. Rhysand. He, too, is beautiful. Violet eyes sit underneath perfect dark brows, above cutting cheekbones. He meets your father’s ever-violent gaze, resting upon the Night Court’s concubine. Feyre. Unsurprisingly, she’s ethereally beautiful, with bright blue eyes and long golden hair. 

“Mate- and High Lady.” Beron finishes, lips in a tight curl as he examines the female ahead. Her power, too, is deeply emanative. The couple is deadly. They know it. You seek Eris once more, wishing to be near him. Wishing that it were his hand in yours instead of your mother's. Instead of meeting your gaze, he bares an amused smile across the table. Your eyes glance over the Morrigan, as beautiful as the stories painted her to be. Her history with Eris was disorganized, and you did not know every detail of what had come to pass. You had yet to be born when their forced betrothal ended violently, but he’d told you enough. He stares intently at the female sitting to the side of Feyre, with icy fire in her eyes and pale blonde hair. You do not recognize her, but her sharp gaze is deadly as she stares daggers back at your brother. Her anger is palpable, and you can surmise that this must be Nesta. 

When that certain glint shines in his amber eye, you find yourself tensing. You know that mischievous expression, and you know what often follows. This is not Eris, your best friend—your only friend. This is Eris, the asshole of the Autumn Court. Shit. You gently release your mother’s hand, ignoring the warning glance she gives you, preparing to act if he manages to create enough of a fit to require your assistance, regardless of your promise to behave.

“Pity you didn’t bring the other sister. I hear our little brother’s mate is quite the beauty.” At the mention of Lucien, your mother releases a quiet gasp. Eris had shared so little with you when it came to him. But he’d told you of Elain, and you knew he was toeing a dangerous line. It’s Morrigan who replies, with a smooth, frigidness in her melodic voice. 

“You still certainly like to hear yourself talk, Eris. Good to know some things don’t change over the centuries.” A wicked smile appears on his lips, and that glint in his eye is on fire. Fuck, you think. Fuck. Fuck. You found yourself wishing for the coveted ability of the daemati at this moment. To be able to claw your way into his mind and tell him to shut the fuck up before he could begin. But no. Instead, you watch with bated breath as he opens his damned mouth and chuckles to himself before he speaks.

“Good to know that after five hundred years, you still dress like a slut.” You release an exasperated groan, and in the same second, the shield around you shudders and breaks with a pulse of deep blue light and powerful magic. The wood of Eris’s chair is shattered into pieces, and your brother is tackled to the ground. Azriel’s scarred hands are a tight vise around your brother’s throat. Within the same second, another shield is erected. Azriel’s own, deep blue and as strong as the one he’d torn down with no effort at all. You hear a muttered “shit” and “enough” from the other side of the table, and within the same breath, you’re standing with your sharpened emerald and obsidian dagger in hand. You make quick work of the resilient shield Azriel had erected, made of radiant blue magic. You catch sight of his siphons once more; only now can you see that the two on his hands are not alone. He wears five more. Eris, you fucking idiot.

You’re fast. You’re strong. And you know that you’d stand no chance against the giant Illyrian at any other time, but somehow, you manage to get the upper hand. You grasp his sturdy shoulder, rounding your dagger sharply to his neck. You dig in with enough pressure to catch his attention, drawing an immediate and steady stream of blood. You feel him still, muscled body impossibly still in your tight hold. You catch Eris’s eye over the Illyrian’s shoulder, and it’s almost comical—the mischievous and proud look of an asshole turning to a quick and sharp panic as he sees the position his baby sister put herself in to protect him. 

“Release him.” You command, but Azriel’s grip on your brother’s neck remains unbroken. You watch as his eyes begin to redden, vessels widening in a concerning manner. You look across the room, meeting the High Lord of Night’s wide eyes with determination in your own. You crack your own shield, the barrier that keeps your mind safe from the prying eye’s of daemati. The shield Eris had taught you to wield the moment you began to walk.

Recall your dog, or all three of us will die right here, right now. You speak loudly, ensuring your words make their mark. You dig your blade in deeper for good measure, milimeters away from his carotid, steady stream of blood thickening as it runs down his neck and drips onto your brother’s face. 

“Enough, Azriel.” Rhysand’s command is deep and unyielding and yet Azriel does not yield, instead digging his heavy knee into Eris’s stomach. You release your hand from his shoulder, instead opting to dig into his dark hair and pull tightly. Any deeper on his neck, and you knew all three of you would be dead. It’s your father who speaks next, apparently realizing the sensitivity of the situation at hand. 

“Call off your overgrown bat!” He growls, but Rhysand does not utter another command. Your heart beats roughly in your chest, and you allow your sharp fingernails to dig into said overgrown bat’s scalp. It has no effect. Your eyes bore into Eris’s over the bat’s shoulder, wide and panicked in a mirror of your own. 

“Come, Azriel.” It’s Feyre, now standing ahead of Rhysand with a hand outstretched toward the Ilyrian. You sigh in relief as he releases his deadly grip on Eris’s throat. He chokes heavily, inhaling deeply and shakily. You slowly pull your nails from Azriel’s scalp, releasing the tangle of hair from your shaking hand, before tentatively removing your dagger from his bleeding neck. He stands confidently, towering over you in height and with his giant wings.

“Come sit with me.” Feyre commands him, and you shudder in relief as he drops the impressive blue shield. He glances at you, dropping his eyes down and then ever so slowly back up, head tilted in menace, and you shiver under his heavy gaze. Finally, he takes steady strides away from you, and you reach to pull Eris from the ground. His slender and toned body falls heavily against your side as you slowly walk him back toward your family. You pass the shattered chair he once sat in, leading him toward your own seat.

“What have you done?” He near silently whispers, his voice terribly hoarse as he leans in close, ensuring that you’re not overheard. 

“Our deal was off the moment you antagonized the Night Court.” You whisper back, and he tightens his grip on your shoulder.

“Beron will punish you for this.” You drop him into your chair, your mother taking his hand in hers underneath the table. 

“No punishment could be worse than watching you die.” He reaches to squeeze your hand, releasing you as you step back, standing obediently a step behind him. You can feel your father’s gaze on you; his ire is already a burning hand upon your back.