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Hell Hath No Fury Like a Sister Scorned

It is @nestaarcheronweek aka the best week of the year!

For Day 1: Bonds, I have brought you sibling bonding, women helping women, and holding Rhysand accountable for his actions.

Read the full story (Completed!) on A03.

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Feyre had made this child out of love, with the notion that she’d be there to raise him. Nesta had thought, as High Lady, she’d have been granted the utmost care, the ability to make every single decision, to have a full working knowledge of her world.

Instead, they treated her sister no better than they did herself. With secrets.

Nesta closed her eyes, readying for her abduction off the streets.

Instead, the earth trembled, tilted, and abruptly, the male she felt too much for yet no longer knew how to deal with was stumbling away, flames erupting between them.

“Put your hands on her and you’ll lose them.”

Nesta blinked, pushing herself upright on the wall of whatever building she’d been leaning against, and looked over the barrier to see her sister in all her glorious fury, her hand outstretched.

“Feyre,” Cassian croaked, looking as shocked as she felt, something agonized in his eyes. “Rhys told me to-”

“Speak his name to me again, I dare you.” Her sister hissed. “I know exactly what he told you.”

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https://archiveofourown.org/works/64906348/chapters/166834348#workskin

Tag List: @c-e-d-dreamer @podemechamardek @talkfantasytome @moodymelanist @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @eerievixen @sweet-pea1 @thewayshedreamed @agents-assemble @jsmelodies @aelinchocolatelover @unlikelypersonalknight1 @bri-loves-sunflowers @misswonderflower @acourtofladydeath @natasharomxnov @unhealthyfanobsession @fiction-loving-person @daddyduncan69 @bobanna81 @a-trifling-matter

@blueunoias @authenticgaymer @xstarlightsupremex

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 💗💗💗

I have no mouth and I must bird

ok but thinking about Rhys saying Nyx is an "ancient night goddess" suggests there were multiple gods and there was polytheism, only for there to now be an Unnamed Goddess called the mother who also picks men to hold domain over the land she created like

Sarah this is reading so hard like fanfic I swear to God please be consistent in your world building I am BEGGING you

ⓘ You can Bite your Friends.

rb to tell prev they're being so brave right now and pat their head a little please

some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.

You know something that I’d like to see with the Illyrians? Clothes that actually fit the environment of the Illyrian Steppes. It’s described to be very cold, with brutal winds (duh it’s called Windhaven) but their battle armor just doesn’t really fit that? Even Nesta is like “yo I’m freezing where is the furs?” and Emerie is like “yeah it’s pretty expensive.” Yall, do you know how common hunting and furs would be? It would be a widely needed thing so maybe it’s more expensive if you’re not a hunter / you’re poor, but 1. They’re a warrior race in an isolated wilderness, they would for sure hunt, and 2. Clothes that fit the environment should be a pretty common thing instead of skin tight leathers. Skin tight leathers is crazyyyyyy when it’s that fucking cold. Like, yeah sure Cassian is like Illyrians are all about gritting your teeth and barring the cold, BUT I think your army dying of hypothermia might be important to avoid lmao. And when it comes to flying it can help, plus leather and furs is still light compared to other armor so I don’t think it would be too heavy for flying. They carry around a shit ton of metal weapons lmao.

And because I love visuals, I would love to see Illyrian leathers looking more like Mongol / Kazakhstan / Turkish, where weather is extreme and winters are very long and brutal.

What I’m not understanding here, I suppose, is the American understanding of ethnicity in SJM’s world.

Some people seem to think Tamlin is Germanic or Dutch….even though he is based off Tam Lin from Scottish mythology. He plays the fiddle, again very coded, fiddles are heavily associated with Northern English, Scottish and Irish folk music.

They celebrate Calanmai in the Spring court…which is Welsh…and Calanmai is written in the Welsh language…so very Welsh.

Roses have a very important meaning in British history, especially red and white ones, considering we had a civil war called the Wars of the Roses. The House of Lancaster was represented by a red roses, House of York White and House of Tudor combined the two roses. Also an attractive English woman is called an ‘English Rose’ see Princess Diana’s funeral song where she is called ‘England’s Rose’. I find this bit funny to be honest, since Tamlin never calls Feyre the Spring Court’s rose but he says he loves her “thorns and all.”Roses are important symbolism in the Spring court as well seeing as how Feyre has a panic attack at seeing red roses/the first book is literally A Court of Thorns and Roses. Tamlin’s parents have a rose garden and Feyre rips a rose out and cuts herself on the thorns (personally I think this could be symbolic that she was never supposed to be part of his family). In fact, she chucks the rose into a bush and Tamlin picks it up to put it behind her ear.

Roses become a theme of Feyre’s rejection of Tamlin, funnily and sadly enough. He brings her a bouquet of white roses from his parent’s garden and she dismisses them.

Tamlin’s beast form looks like a lion…the national animal of Britain.

I fail to understand how you can think Tamlin is not Scottish/British from the text after looking at all of that.

Lucien really asked her if he got her a moon on a string, would she give him a kiss, and she didn’t jump his bones. Insane. Absolutely bonkers.