#erlain

⊹elain x eris⊹

Eris Vanserra x Elain Archeron A Reclining Exotic Beauty ⟡ Delphin Enjolras, 1945 // Lilith ⟡ John Collier, 1887

YEP! I'm writing a sequel to And the Hounds Bayed for Eris week this year. You can expect the following:

Elain being too curious for her own good

Eris being evil, as usual

Eris and Elain making a very precarious agreement

Eris and Elain fucking nasty

Azriel, Eris, Lucien, and Elain haven't been able to stop thinking about their initiations. What they experienced, and what they missed out on. Deep within the rules of the Vanserra initiation, there may just be a way to experience it all...

It's FERAL FREE DAY here to close out @erisweekofficial. Make sure you've read the first two installments of the "To Become A Vanserra" installment in order before starting this newest piece. If you're caught up, read a snippet below or the full fic on AO3.

And just like that, my creative spark and my joy for art commissioning is back.

Your brother’s mate

The Patron Saint of Hollow Places

09.13.24

The forest was beautiful before the rot set in. At least, that’s what Lucien said. He had described, in vivid detail, its brilliant leaves in all shades of red and yellow and orange; the gentle deer and playful foxes that had called it their home; and the ripe, juicy apples that dangled from the boughs of the trees lining this very path.

Thanks to all the organizers of @erisweekofficial who help make this event awesome! Appreciatie you!

This started as a casual conversation about a crack!fic idea on this topic, and next thing I knew it turned serious and is quietly demanded it's own whole series situation in my brain. Idek why I pretend I can control the muses. Endless love to @pippsmcgee for beta reading and generally encouraging all my fandom madness.

Day 1 Prompt: Bound | Bargain

Elain Archeron/Eris Vanserra

Being Seen

Eris would never categorize himself as a patient individual by any stretch of the imagination; still, he can certainly appreciate the importance of good timing. 

Usually, being made to wait would have anger and frustration quietly building within him until it inevitably boiled over in an indignant, likely violent, outburst. Tonight, however, timing is of little consequence to him. Very little seems of consequence at the moment; he is more than content to dwell here.  Eris concentrates on his breathing; he wants - needs - to keep his mind clear of all the extraneous thoughts trying to impose on this fleeting reprieve. He concentrates on grounding himself and focuses his attention on the physicality of the moment…

the feel of the soft rug on which he kneels…

the peaceful silence, broken only by the comforting crackle of the fire in the hearth…

the slight chill of a draft against his bare skin…

the lingering smell of jasmine and honey and the unmistakable scents of desire and lust and satisfaction…