#don’t tag x oc as x reader

[koolaidmansb1tch]

I say this time and time again; tag your fics properly. Just because you don’t include a name doesn’t mean it can be read as an X Reader because there are still personal identifiers. Vice versa, as well, no descriptors but has a name, still excludes readers. Also, if it’s meant for a specific type of reader (ie specific skin tone/ethnicity, gender, etc) please tag that properly as well so that it’s not a surprise to be found out later or even that it can be properly filtered.

We are not being unreasonable when we ask that you just tag your fics properly.

Dear authors, you should really stop putting "x reader" in your OC insert fics because it's a self insert of YOUR character and not that of the reader. I understand you want attention on the post, but it's completely misstagging the story and is quite frankly frustrating and annoying. Yeah, some readers may adapt to it, but some absolutely can not. Thank you very much

[koolaidmansb1tch]

Fun Fact!

(TLDR; Using You/Your doesn’t make your X OC an X Reader, don’t tag it as such)

Using Second Person POV (You/Your) does not automatically make something X Reader! So if you market something as X Reader when the character is very clearly an OC, that is mistagging and it’s a shitty thing to do! IDK bout y’all but I do not, in fact, have blue or green eyes, I am not blonde or a redhead, I am short and chubby. So if you are using a character that has set features and a name, I do not give a singular fuck if you are using 2nd Person POV, that is not X Reader. The only reason an actual X Reader should have any sort of set features is if it actually relevant to the plot (ie a Species Characteristic like wings or a tail, or something to do with actual plot relevance like if the Reader Character has a very specific and special eye colour) and necessary. Yea, absolutely if you are writing for a specific race (ie Black!Reader) then you are free to set those characteristics but if it is meant to be ambiguous then don’t put a damn OC in place of the “Reader” Character and call it an X Reader. Y’all are assholes if you do that. I am genuinely sick and tired of seeing it. Worst part is, I literally have the X OC tag blocked and yet I’m still seeing this shit because y’all don’t fucking tag your stuff properly. If you’re gonna be a dick and tag it as X Reader then at least include an X OC tag so that we can fucking filter it. I have made multiple posts about this kind of thing before and I am reaching my goddamn limit. Literally just saw a fic that was very blatantly X OC and yet that tag was nowhere in sight. Fucking Homestuck(dated reference ik shut up) uses 2nd Person and yet nowhere does it claim to be a reader insert. Reader insert and immersive are 2 different things don’t even get me started.

Tag. Your. Shit. Right.

It is not that fucking hard. literally all you have to do is add a tag that is 3 characters. “X OC” that’s it. That’s all it takes. Or, better yet, put it as a warning in the actual post because not everyone checks the tags. This isn’t Ao3 where the tags are just right there alongside the warnings, put tags and warnings in the actual post and in the tags. Literally just be courteous to the people who don’t want to see that. If you don’t want to use Y/n, easy fix, either work around it (ie, “he said your name” “She called your name” “they muttered your name”) or get some kind of nickname (doesn’t have to be a pet name, could just be something people call them, ie “my name is ____ but people call me Gator” I literally know someone who nearly everyone knows as “Fish”)

It is not that hard to just be courteous and not tag your X OC as X Reader.

[sweaterrat]

Lemlav has cured my art block, hallelujah 🔥🔥🔥

[myokk]

Eloise is really, really bad at chess😐

(this is a scene from my fic & I typed it up here:)

"Milady, you cannot send him there! He will surely die a terrible death, and Murdoch is our finest knight!"

Eloise blinked her bleary eyes at the wizarding chess board, not really comprehending what the tiny pieces were yelling at her. The one that seemed to be doing the most talking was gesticulating wildly and jumping up and down, trying to get her attention. When she had taken the pieces out of the box Sebastian had lent her, they had immediately recognized her and started protesting, appealing to 'their benevolent lord's innate sense of goodness', but their protests fell on deaf ears. Eloise was positive that Sebastian took some sort of perverse pleasure at watching her lose at chess.

In the background, she could hear Ominis's laughter echoing through the Undercroft. His own pieces were quite happy at the moment, preening and occasionally sending rude gestures towards Eloise's, much to Sebastian's amusement. He was narrating their every action to Ominis, whose laughter was egging on his soldiers even more.

"Eloise," Sebastian said, propping his chin up by one hand (entirely too amused, infuriatingly so, why did he have to look so handsome when she was trying to be annoyed at him?), "maybe you should move the knight..." his other hand pointed to an empty space on the board, "...here."

This declaration caused an uproar. There were shouts of betrayal, tiny pieces gesticulating wildly to the carnage surrounding the board as they shouted in vain. She didn't see any other viable moves, so Eloise sighed and ordered the brave little Murdoch to where Sebastian had suggested. Chaos immediately ensued and Ominis's queen gleefully knocked his head off with a violent swing of her scepter. Eloise's pawns all doubled over, sobbing as their most valient knight fell, and her remaining bishop shook his tiny fist in outrage up at her.

After a few more minutes, much to Eloise's ashamed relief and the boys' disappointment, her pieces refused to move for either her or Sebastian. They solemnly collected the remains of their fallen comrades with as much dignity as they could muster and marched off the board and back into their box in a mourning parade of sorts.

Sebastian joined Ominis's pieces as they jeered the losing team off the board, causing Eloise to glare fiercely at him. "You were the one telling me what to do, and they're your pieces! Show some loyalty."

He shrunk away from the intensity of her gaze and held up his hands in protest. "I was suggesting the moves as a joke! After last week's fiasco, I didn't think you'd fall for it again."

Ominis was laughing so hard he was gasping for breath, and the two of them turned to watch him. Even through her irritation, Eloise couldn't help but smile at him - he was always so solemn and these bouts of mirth were few and far between. He managed to speak between bouts of laughter. "I...I couldn't...I couldn't believe it when you sent your bishops one by one into my trap! It was so obvious! And then...and then you..." Ominis dissolved into fits of laughter again and couldn't finish.

Eloise turned her angry glare to him. "We can't all be chess geniuses!"

"I've tried teaching you and you don't listen! For the next time, I'm only going to give you one piece of advice: don't listen to Sebastian." He chuckled once more to himself and then turned slightly to the board, addressing his men (and queen) and giving them a debriefing. He always did this after he won the matches; it was a strange sort of ritual that he seemed to look forward to.

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones XXXIII

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Author’s Note:  Thank you for reading <3 I hope you enjoy this next chapter and where the story is going :)

thank you @elidelochans for always being my beta <3

tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @rosewood-cafe / @vanserrass / @positivewitch / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @readthelastpaage / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @rainbowsnowflake / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens

Find it all here.

When two days passed, Eris gathered with his brothers and mother in her garden. For this conversation, Iris stood by his side. He had carefully shielded their scents and if his brothers noticed, they didn’t comment. 

He may trust them but as he shared a glance with his wife, Eris couldn’t help but want to keep this…gift to himself a little longer. If they made it through this, Eris would let himself reflect on how the Mother had a strange sense of humor; to give him Iris with the possibility of losing her. 

Then again, the Mother knew this would be a hard fight. Sending his mate only gave him more reason to insist on making it out. 

“You don’t think it’s too dangerous to be gathered like this in one place?” Lady Enya asked in the silence, her hands wringing in her lap. 

“I glamored us as we arrived,” Eris assured her. “No one saw us coming in.” 

But his mother was more nervous than usual, which added to his stress. Eris could tell she was tired and it made him want to choke his father more viciously than usual; that fucker knew his wife hated his guts and yet he kept his paws all over her. 

Forcing the thought from his mind, his expression tight, he addressed his mother with a nod. “Are you prepared?” he asked. “Do you have everything you need?”

Lady Enya nodded, her hands clenching in her gown. “Yes,” she answered, clearing her throat. “I don’t wish to take anything with me but the clothes on my back. I have nothing of value that I shared with him.” 

The words made him grimace. He knew his mother hadn’t meant her words to be about her sons but it didn’t stop the sting of knowing how she had held herself back. It didn’t hurt any less that she had endured all this because of them. For them. 

The brothers shared a frown.

“I’ve checked with every one of my sources and nothing seems to be amiss,” Emil said, his arms crossed. “My soldiers are ready.”

Izak, seated next to their mother, nodded. “The same with mine. Everything is going according to plan.” 

“What about Lucien?” Finn asked. 

“I’ve been in touch. Everything is fine on his end.” Eris confirmed. “Winter and Dawn have given us passage to winnow from the court lines.”

“No questions asked?” Iris inquired carefully. 

“Lucien has enough connections that no one bats an eye when he mentions he’s passing through with people,” he explained. “Especially when Helion and Rhys are welcoming. There’s no reason to object when there won’t be lingering.”

“Does Rhys know?” Lady Enya asked quietly. 

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw. “Rhys has always known this day would come but he doesn’t ask questions. He knows it’s near.” 

Finn shifted on his feet. “We’ve checked and triple-checked everything. Things are going according to plan and yet…why does it feel like something isn’t right?”

“Because we’re a bunch of paranoid motherfuckers.” Izak said then glanced at his mother. “Apologies, mother.”

The corner of Iris’s lips twitched as her mother-in-law rolled her eyes at her son and she couldn’t help but let her gaze shift between the brothers and their mother, feeling slightly out of place. This was her first time meeting Emil and Izak personally and other than an awkward greeting, they kept their distance; the tension lining Eris’s back and the way he watched his brothers with every breath they took near her had Iris do the same. Given what Eris had shared with her about each of them, Iris couldn’t help but have a soft spot for the brothers who were all trying to find the light with love as they battled their own demons. It didn’t change how close Eris had her stand and if anything, his brothers understood his possessiveness too well, even if they didn’t know to what extent.

The last two nights seemed to escalate his levels of stress and Iris had watched him have to expel his anger, nearly setting their whole suite aflame to get himself through the day. He’d leave her early and return late, checking in with her periodically throughout the day and whenever he did, they would end up releasing his stress in a much more intimate way. Iris had found that whenever his body was draped over hers, was the only time he actually relaxed. 

Even in his sleep, her husband struggled and she found herself awake more often, watching him as he shuddered through every breath. 

Iris kept her eyes on Eris as he ran his tongue over his teeth, sharing a look with Emil. “We did find one idiot who was ready to sell out,” he said carefully. “He was hoping to get in with the High Lord and rise through the rankings.” 

“And what happened to him?” Finn asked, his tone casual.

“By the time Eris and I got to him, our sentries had let him know exactly how they felt about ruining our chances,” Emil said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “We aren’t the only ones desperate for change.”

“I would’ve cut out his tongue.” Izak huffed.

“Emil did,” Eris said with a smile that didn��t reach his eyes. “Then we hung him in the center of the training ring with a knife lodged in his throat.”

“That seems unnecessary.” Lady Enya muttered mildly.

But Finn nodded at them. “Nice.”

“You have a very odd definition of nice.” Iris said with a raised brow and Finn’s answering grin was a little too sinister. 

“I would’ve carved out his internal organs to hang him by and then pinned his body to the wall with knives so he could bleed to death, slowly and painfully. What they did was nice.” he said and Iris couldn’t help her grimace.

“Please –” their mother started and glanced at Eris who sighed.

“Let’s focus,” he waved a hand. “We have another week before this hell is over. Keep straightening things out. If you hear even a whisper of something, you let me know immediately.” Eris glanced back at his mother. “We wait for the signal that Helene, Theo, and Cosette are fine. We dance. We mingle. Once Father gives his bore of a speech like every year, Emil will be walking you to where you will meet Mikel and then to where you will meet Iris and Oren. From there, you two will pretend to walk towards your gardens until you cross the gates. Serphan will winnow you to Lucien and then report back to me. Helion will also be waiting.”

Lady Enya swallowed, a hand rubbing her throat. “And they – Lucien knows what to do in case something goes wrong?”

Eris nodded then gave them all a pointed look. “Rumor has it that our youngest brother was invited and he may be making an appearance,” he said. “Should he need to use it, he knows the code. Each of our sentries has a uniform color. Lucien knows my insignia and who he can ask if needed.” 

A silence fell on the group and Iris’s gaze couldn’t help but flicker between them all. She couldn’t imagine how long they’d been waiting for this and how these last few days were causing more agony than anything else. 

Lady Enya broke the silence first, rubbing a shaky hand to her forehead. “I’m – I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry to be causing all this.” 

A collective noise of disapproval rang from the brothers and she looked at them with a watery smile. 

“But I am. I always will be,” she added, her grip tightening in the folds of her dress. “If I could stay and help avoid all this, I would but I  — I can’t anymore.”

“Mother.” Finn chasted her gently and his expression tightened when Izak wrapped his burly arm around their mother’s delicate frame and kissed the top of her head. 

“Don’t apologize,” Izak said. “We can’t keep living this way regardless.”

“Enough is enough,” Emil added solemnly. “We are more than what he’s forced us to be.” 

Eris met his mother’s gaze. “You are a phoenix ready to rise from the ashes, remember?” he asked quietly. “Don’t look back now.” 

Lady Enya glanced at each of her sons and then took a shaky breath. “You are all the light of my life. I am proud of each of you and know you will always be more than he could ever dream. Better than he could ever dare to be.” she said softly. “I love you.” 

And Iris had to look away from them as each of the brothers, including her husband, flushed lightly at their mother’s words. But she could feel their content, felt how it filled them with joy and Iris felt an ache in her chest. She hadn’t met her own mother but Lady Enya had easily and so quickly filled that role. This wasn’t her moment and yet Iris felt so honored to be a part of it.

Clearing his throat, Izak gruffly mumbled, “We love you too.”  

Lady Enya chuckled and patted Izak’s cheek. “I know, my beautiful boy,” she said, then sighed quietly, straightening. “Do not underestimate him. He will not respond well and I know he has something up his sleeve.” 

“The bridal party waiting for us isn’t for nothing,” Emil mused. “He’s invited every influential family in the court and somehow, they all have eligible daughters.” 

“We dance and we mingle,” Eris repeated his instructions firmly. “Lying is a form of art we’ve excelled at for years. It won’t kill you to dance with a potential bride to keep up the ruse.” 

“Yeah, but Helene might kill me.” Izak mumbled and Finn snorted as Iris’s lips twitched. 

“Considering Father might kill you first should you not dance, you’ll have to risk it,” Eris said dryly. “He’s surrounding himself with people like him for a reason. He believes in the strength of numbers and has purposely kept some of the guest list names from mother.”

“I think it’s a mighty coincidence that this particular ball is the one he’s having potential brides from powerful families attend,” Emil said. “If the High Lord is promising your daughter a prince, you’d be more than happy to side with a tyrant than against him.”

“It might not be to the extent that families have turned,” Finn said. “But it doesn’t help us if he has some of them present.”

Izak shook his head. “Those families have always been in his pocket, they keep each other comfortable. We knew this.”

“Those families are full of nothing but lofty words.” Lady Enya added. “Nothing in the preparations should change but I still don’t think you should trust them.” 

Finn glanced at Eris. “Once we’re done with Father, we get to clean out the garbage, right?”

“Whoever does not bend to the new ruling will be taken out immediately,” Eris said, his expression tightening. “We know who these people are. They have one chance to make the right choice or they won’t live to make another one.” He glanced at each of his brothers. “This is the only shot we have to disinfect this court and make it into something worth living in. This is bigger than just us.” 

“You should anticipate your father being there.” Lady Enya said to Iris. “He was one of the people the High Lord insisted on adding to the guest list and I don’t see Aron declining the invitation.”

Iris grimaced, her fists clenching at her sides. “I have no doubt he’ll be there,” she said then glanced at Eris. “Even if he knows he’s not wanted.” 

“Especially if he knows he’s not wanted,” Eris muttered. “He knows what awaits him should he step one toe out of line.” And he forced himself to roll his shoulders back, pushing back the surge of anger thumping in his chest at the mention of his father-in-law. He glanced at Izak instead and waved a hand for a letter to appear then flicked it to his brother. “Lucien let me know this morning that Helene and her mother have been settling in nicely. She sent you a letter.” 

Izak caught it and held it tightly, nodding at Eris. “Thank you.” 

Eris nodded back and then glanced at Emil. “Cosette?”

“She’s ready to leave.” his brother answered tightly.

“Adler?”

“He knows his orders.” 

Eris nodded again and ran a hand through his hair. “We have to be on guard for anything.”

“I know.” 

Eris shifted as he stared at his family, feeling the blood pumping beneath his skin. “If –”

“Eris.” Emil’s calm tone cut through his. “We’ve done every single thing we could. The only thing we can do is set it in motion and make it through.” 

Taking a breath through his nose, Eris let his head fall back, his eyes on the open air above them. “I won’t pretend I’m not filled with dread and it’s been getting harder to tighten the leash on my powers,” he mumbled then fixed his gaze back on his brothers. “I set fire to one of the stables yesterday because Father made a snippy comment.”

“What a pity he wasn’t standing in it,” Finn said, his lips twitching and Eris snorted. 

“Pity, indeed.” 

Iris’s gaze locked on Eris and his tightened shoulders and she couldn’t help stepping closer to him, her hand sliding to his back as she leaned into him. He glanced at her with a thin smile then cleared his throat, addressing them all. 

“He’s going to make this a hard fight. We fight as dirty as he does.” Eris said firmly. “Whatever it takes.”

It fell silent as his brothers nodded. His mother’s eyes welled up again, and Eris had to look away from her so it didn’t pain him. He glanced at Iris instead, and even though her smile was a small sad one, it managed to loosen a breath from his chest. Whatever it took, he would crawl his way out of this and back to her. 

“Well,” Finn began and Eris let out a long-suffering sigh echoed by Emil and Izak. “He can’t kill all of us, right? One of us has to survive him to continue the Vanserra line.” 

“Finn.” Eris warned as their mother made a noise of distress.

“What? I’m only reassuring you once again, that if the task comes to me, I would be happy to marry all your lovely ladies and take care of them should you all bite the dust at the ball,” Finn said graciously.

“Don’t you have a certain someone in your life?” Iris asked, holding back a laugh and Finn waved a hand good-naturedly.

“He’s very reasonable, you’ll love him,” he reassured Iris as he wiggled his brows at her. “You won’t mind having sister wives, right? As the wife of my oldest brother, you would be my first wedded, of course.”

Before Eris could do more than snarl rather viciously at his brother’s teasing, Iris held a hand to her husband’s chest and raised a brow at Finn. “It’s sweet you think you can handle one wife, much less three,” she said then turned back to Eris. “If you bite the dust as your brother says, I promise I won’t marry him.” She patted his chest gently. “But, you’ll be perfectly safe so there’s nothing to worry about. You don’t need to punch him.” 

Eris scowled then narrowed his eyes at Finn’s smug smile. “I still want to punch him.”

“We can save it for another day. When all this is over.” Iris couldn’t help but glance at the rest of them. “When we’re all safe. You can punch each other all you want then.” 

“Your wife is an optimist,” Emil noted, tilting his head at her curiously. “What a fate to be married to a Vanserra.”  

Iris’s lips twitched then made a show of stepping back to run her gaze down Eris’s body and back up. Eris’s brow lifted as she made a noise of approval. “Well, he is pretty so it balances out all the struggle,” she said and Eris rolled his eyes as she turned back to shrug at his brothers. “It isn’t much, but it’s honest work.” 

Izak’s head tipped back with a laugh as Finn hooted and Emil couldn’t help his chuckle. 

And Eris wanted to devour her when she gave him a cheeky smile that made him roll his eyes again. “Hysterical,” he deadpanned, the tips of his ears heating at his mother’s small smile. 

“I told you she was funny,” Finn said to his brothers. 

“My wife’s jokes and Finn’s enthusiasm to marry females who won’t want him aside –” Eris began, warning Finn with a look when his brother opened his mouth. “We’ve lingered enough, I think. Should anything else come up, be quick and be discreet.” 

The brothers let themselves slowly disperse with Emil vanishing first then Finn. Izak delayed for a moment and approached Iris with a thin smile. Eris’s brow quirked up as his brother ran a hand over his beard, his expression curiously cautious. “I just wanted to say…I think you and Helene would get along well,” he said and glanced at Eris before meeting Iris’s gaze. “It’s not easy being married to a Vanserra but…I think you two could be friends. If – if you wanted.” 

Iris’s smile was warm. “Based on what Eris mentioned to me, I think so too. I look forward to meeting her when I can.” she said then added quietly, “Congratulations on the pregnancy.” 

Izak flushed, pleased as he nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see you again at the ball.” 

As Izak departed and only his mother remained, Eris gave her a moment as she took in her gardens, her expression tight. He knew this place had always been a sanctuary for her and though she’d be leaving it behind for a better place, he knew it wouldn’t be easy. 

“Mother.”

Lady Enya turned towards him. “Yes?”

“If needed…will you be ready to use your magic?” he asked carefully and his mother took a breath, nodding.

“Yes. Whatever I can do, I will support your every step,” she said, her expression shifting into grim determination. “Whatever it takes, Eris.”

He nodded at his mother then shared a glance with his wife and Iris’s smile was tight as Eris promised, “Whatever it takes.” 

-

Eris blinked and as the ball crept closer, he barely slept. He went about his daily routine, spent time with his wife, and plotted through the night. He tried to be more relaxed, tried to stay focused but as everything slowly came together, he couldn’t help but anticipate that something would go wrong. He’d readjusted his plan with Oren, Mikel, and Seprhan twice already; he was driving his friends crazy. 

The feeling intensified when it was finally the night before the ball and his Father summoned him to the throne room. Eris had hesitated for only a moment in front of the door, the memory of the last time he was summoned here lingering in the back of his mind. But he forced himself forward and allowed himself a glance around the room as he walked towards where his father stood, taking in the splendor of decor as he went. His mother always outdid herself with the way she planned for these events. He knew how this particular event was one of significance and didn’t miss the little signs around the room. The abundance of gold. The wisps of fire magic. The miniature phoenix art scattered around the room. His lips couldn’t help but twitch. 

Eris paused a healthy distance from the High Lord who stood with his back to him, facing the throne. As his Father deliberately took his time to acknowledge him, Eris ran his tongue over his teeth and made himself take a deep breath, schooling his expression into that careful calm he desperately needed around his least favorite person. 

After a few moments of silence, Eris clenched his fists behind his back and cleared his throat. “You called, Father.”

Beron glanced over his shoulder and then made a noise of disapproval as he turned to face his son. The two watched each other in silence and though Eris was used to his father’s mind games, something about this summoning felt…sinister.

Beron gestured for Eris to come closer and immediately, his shoulders couldn’t help tensing further.

But Eris moved and stopped at the place Beron had pointed to, right in front of him. “Do you know why I called you here, son?”

“I really hope it’s because you missed me,” Eris said with a thin smile. “Otherwise my feelings will be hurt.” 

Beron snorted. “Funny,” he said and shifted his head slightly as he watched Eris. “I wonder if you get your humor from your wife. I hear she’s very funny.” 

A beat of silence passed and Eris felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest. “Pray tell, who has been passing along her jokes?”

His father’s answering smile made Eris’s fists tighten. “The wind carries all kinds of whispers, son. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

The moment stretched between them and Eris tried to keep the beating of his heart calm as his father watched him. What did that even mean? Who was talking?

The High Lord’s mouth curled and Eris tried to tamper down his agitation as his father added, “Then again, everything about your wife would be a secret if it was up to you.” 

Eris’s expression flattened. “Are we really doing this again, Father?” he said and tried to keep his tone even. “I thought we were past this.” 

“Of course, of course,” Beron said casually. “Though how sensitive you are about her is still concerning, I suppose we have other things to worry about with our big event tomorrow.”

Tension lined Eris’s spine as he watched his father watch him, every sentence loaded with words left unsaid, and Eris’s mind scrambled to catch it all. “Indeed,” he said carefully. “What can I assist you with, Father?”

“Always so eager to assist, son,” Beron said. “Sometimes I forget just how much.”

Eris’s gaze narrowed slightly in confusion. He didn’t want to believe his father was bored and wasting his time like this. Eris could barely keep awake these days; with this last night, he wanted to be alone with his wife. His mate. He wanted that fucken time with her. 

Yet here he was, squandering that time with this.

“Is there anything about the event tomorrow you’d like me to do? I do believe everything has been taken care of.” 

“I didn’t call you here for that.” Beron said and Eris lifted a brow.

“If not that, to what do I owe the pleasure of being here?”

The words seemed to cause a slight shift in his father and Eris noted exactly when his expression went from amused disdain to anger.

“You overstep and I tire of it.”

Eris blinked. “Oh?”

“You are my eldest son. I acknowledge that a certain load of responsibility has been expected of you and even added to your shoulders. You have always done your duty as required and yet…” Beron pursed his lips, his gaze narrowing. “The past few months, you have overstepped so very often.”

Eris forced his expression into polite indifference. “Is there something I did in particular that bothered you deeply enough to summon me?” he asked and his father’s eyes narrowed. “I would like to ensure I apologize profusely for my errors.”

“You and that fucken mouth of yours.” Beron snarled and backhanded Eris so quickly he barely took a breath, his face snapping to the side and Eris nearly swore at the sheer force that went into his father’s hand. 

Oh, the High Lord was pissed to be this triggered by his tone.

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth, slowly facing his father again and he knew there was nothing to be done about the anger that coursed through his body – anger he knew the High Lord felt despite the bland expression Eris managed to push through on his face. “That seemed rather unnecessary.” he managed to say lightly, even though his fisted hands were shaking violently behind his back. “Was it something I said, High Lord?”

And this time when his father lifted his hand in warning, Eris leaned back, his expression flattening again. “I can handle words, Father. You don’t need to put your hands on me to tell me when I’ve supposedly wronged you.” 

His father’s mouth curled in anger and the High Lord stepped into Eris’s personal space even further. “Back away from me again and a flogging pole will be the least of your worries.”

A strained silence pulsed in the air between them and Eris knew he was venturing into dangerous territory when he couldn’t hold in his humorless laugh and his father’s eyes narrowed.

“And get blood all over the floor? That wouldn’t be the kind of welcome you’d want to give our guests.”

Beron yanked Eris by the front of his tunic. “Keep speaking in that sarcastic tone and your body hanging by the gates will be what welcomes the guests instead.” 

Eris felt his fire nearly burst out of him, his anger shooting up his spine but he held that leash on his magic and held it tight because he wouldn’t blow up here. Given the kind of pressure he’d been under the last three weeks, it would be so fucken easy to unleash everything and be done. 

But no. Not now. Not when they were so fucken close. Not when they could wipe the slate clean in front of the whole court and step into a new age with history on their side.

Nevertheless, Eris couldn’t stop the steam from pouring out of him and he certainly couldn’t stop his glare when his Father’s cold smirk appeared. 

“I don’t know if that would match the theme Mother’s going for this year.” Eris said tightly as he tried to reign in his anger even as Beron’s answering chuckle was laced with cruelty.

“You keep speaking to me that way and your mother will have more things to worry about than her tacky theme.” Beron spat then shoved Eris back. “Fix your face and apologize.” 

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw as father and son stared down one another. They had barely started talking and his father was already goading him just to lay hands on him. Had the High Lord sensed anything amiss? What was it that seemed to be putting his father in such a foul mood? 

Eris’s hands remained behind his back, flexing his fingers then fisting them again as he forced himself to bow his head and as calmly as he could choke out said, “Apologies, High Lord.” 

Beron’s head cocked to the side. “An apology should come with a full bow, boy. Do not disrespect me.” 

Eris’s expression blanked immediately and he forced his body not to react negatively, not to tense further. His well of power would not be blown away on this. This was nothing. He’d tolerated more. 

So forcing himself once more, Eris bowed fully to his father and said as dull as possible, “Apologies, High Lord.”

His father said nothing for a moment and Eris took the opportunity to glare at the sparkling floors they stood on. When another minute ticked by in silence, he couldn’t help but lift his head to find his father smirking at him. And that was never good.

Especially when he opened his mouth and said, “Your wife says my High Lord. You should say it the way she does.” 

Eris’s body straightened before he could stop himself, his vision going red and the only thing that managed to hold him back from ripping his father’s throat out was the laugh that slipped out of the High Lord’s mouth, mocking him.

“You’re so easy to rile these days.” Beron taunted. “Which goes to show you how bad of an influence that wife of yours is.” Giving Eris a sly look, his father continued, “Maybe you should pick out a new bride tomorrow.” 

Eris didn’t bother fighting back his eye roll, despite how much his clenched fists were shaking. “This conversation is getting tedious, Father,” he said curtly. “May I please know what it is you wish to discuss with me?”

The High Lord’s expression filled with contempt as he stared down his son, the silence between them was heavy with trepidation. 

“Tedious, you say.”

“Yes. We both know there are about a thousand other things we could be doing instead of this little dance between us.” 

Beron made a disinterested noise. “I had no plans other than to fuck your mother this evening. Though her lack of enthusiasm doesn’t make it as enjoyable as it could be, it is better than nothing.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eris snapped and nothing could stop his fists from catching flame. “Show some respect when you speak about her.” 

And Eris knew his father’s fist would fly out. H​​e let it. He let the taste of blood fill his mouth as he staggered back a step from the blow. His father seemed to be spiraling. He had lashed out at stupid things before but this? To this extent? Eris felt the pit of his stomach give out. Could it be that something had slipped through the cracks?

“I will speak about my wife as I see fit. You do not get to insert yourself between us.” Beron spat and Eris wiped a hand at his mouth with a huff of disbelief. His father’s expression of disdain remained as he took a step closer to his son. “This is your problem. You are always inserting yourself in places you don’t need to be. You do it with your mother. You do it with your brothers. You did it in a meeting the other day with our council while I was in the room.” The High Lord glared and Eris had to fight with all the willpower he had to calm his shaking hands – to smother his flames. “You know why I called you here? To discuss how you intervened between me and your brothers the other day. An intervention I did not welcome.” His father’s gaze raked over his face. “I’ve tolerated your overstepping in the past because you followed orders – you get things done. However, I will not tolerate your overstepping tomorrow, especially in front of the many important guests that will be present. You will remember your place and watch how you behave.” 

The High Lord’s voice was nothing but a lethal threat as he said, “The next time you get between me and your brothers so carelessly like that, you will take the brunt of their discipline.” 

Eris tried to keep his expression from shifting at the promise filled with violence. This whole conversation was bringing all the stress he had been carrying and crashing it down on his head. It seemed that indeed, his command of his brothers had finally seemed to bother his father enough that he was finally saying something about it. What convenient fucken timing. 

Beron’s expression morphed into one of cruel amusement. “Your hair is only just starting to grow out. It’s too early for another new look, don’t you agree?”

And the warning was clear – a reminder of what the High Lord would be happy to do again in this very room. 

Eris pursed his lips, his heart thundering in his chest at his father’s gaze filled with violence as clear as the tone he used. He nearly choked as his magic surged up again, desperately wanting to answer it but instead, Eris forced himself to breathe slowly, the leash on his magic held tight as he said carefully, “I merely wished to help, Father. I didn’t realize it would bother this much.”

“I do not require your help to make your brothers fall in line. You should be falling in line with them.” the High Lord snapped. “Your help has become an insult.”

Eris’s jaw worked and again, he forced himself to bow his head graciously even though he wanted to do anything but – his father had already laid his hands on him twice; he couldn’t afford to keep giving him reasons to lash out. So Eris only said, “Duly noted.”

Silence stretched between them and Eris waited, knowing a threat was coming up. His father liked to play games and loved to waste his time. Minutes ticked away and Eris couldn’t help the flare of his nostrils when his father’s mouth curled up.

“Eris.”

“Father.”

“Tomorrow is a very big day,” Beron said slowly and took a step closer to him. “I’d hate for things to go wrong should any of you decide to do something foolish.” 

A chill skittered down his spine but Eris’s expression remained politely bored. The comment didn’t have to mean anything. His father didn’t know anything. The High Lord was only lashing out because Eris hadn’t said the right things to him, because he wasn’t being as careful as he could be. He would blame it on the stress and would not let himself believe anything else.

“Other than drinking excessively,” he said as nonchalantly as possible, “I don’t foresee any trouble.”

Beron hummed, watching Eris in a way that always made his skin crawl. “Your father-in-law will be in attendance. I expect you and your wife to behave accordingly.”

Annoyance flashed on Eris’s face before he could stop it. “I am aware. He’ll do well to steer clear of us completely, Father. That is my only request to you.”

“And if I refused?”

Eris forced his expression to blank pleasantness again, noting the movement of his father’s hands. “Then I cannot promise there won’t be trouble should his path cross ours.” 

“Is that a threat, son?”

“Never, Father,” he said with a small smile. “I am merely setting expectations.”  

Beron’s eyes narrowed and it was a deadly type of silence between them, the type of silence that Eris knew, had his father not needed him to be presentable tomorrow, Eris’s face would’ve met his fire rather than his fist. “You were my favorite son.” his father said quietly. “I do not like who you’ve become.” 

Eris could only slowly shrug his shoulders. “I’m sorry to be of constant disappointment, Father,” he replied and wished he could tell his father exactly how sorry he was – how much being the so-called favorite had cost him. 

Beron scowled and grabbed Eris’s face with a hand, tugging him closer. “Do not think I haven’t noticed how abysmal your attitude has been lately but I will warn you one last time,” his father said quietly, enough violence in his tone that Eris knew not to move. “Should you do anything that isn’t a direct order from me – anything that isn’t what I expect of you, I will make you pay in ways that’ll be worse than your nightmares.” Beron shoved him back and Eris couldn’t help his expression darkening at his father’s glare. “All this family has ever been is disappointing. Let’s hope you and your useless brothers don’t make matters worse for yourselves tomorrow.” 

The High Lord shoved past Eris but paused half a step away and Eris turned his head without a word, only raising a brow at the loaded silence between them. 

But then his father’s nostrils flared and Eris felt his blood run cold. He didn’t dare breathe and mentally checked his shields, knowing he had reinforced it around his scent before he came anywhere near his father, and yet…what exactly was the High Lord sensing?

His father merely gave him a once over then spat, “I’ll see you and your wife tomorrow. I hope you remember to make good choices.” 

And the High Lord’s goodbye felt like a promise full of death. Eris waited a few moments in tense silence, his blood thumping in his ears and when he was sure he was indeed alone, he closed his eyes to let out a deep shaky breath, feeling steam rise from his hands. His anxiety had returned in full force at his father’s departure. His father couldn’t have sensed anything, could he? Eris had glamoured his scent well; no one could note his mating bond, especially without Iris near him. If his father had scented his wife on him, that wouldn’t be unusual but Eris was too careful even for that. 

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and let himself linger for another moment, eyes flickering around the room, letting himself see it as it was for the last time. With a sigh, he turned on his heels and left the throne room. 

He needed to warn his brothers. 

–

Iris watched as Eris finally stepped into their suite and slammed the door behind him. He had taken longer than she had anticipated and the anxiety that had been squeezing around her chest immediately loosened when she saw that he was whole and unharmed. Her heart had stopped when Eris had told her about the High Lord’s meeting and the only reason Iris had survived waiting was because she distracted herself on the piano. 

Everything was supposed to be set. Everything was in place and yet, the tension that seeped into the room with him made her nervous. She hated that what could be their final night together was filled with such emotions. 

She rose from her place on the piano and walked over to him then stopped in her tracks, noting the slight bruise on his cheek, the cut on his lip. “What happened.” 

Her voice was more hushed than intended but if not for that, Iris knew she would start to panic. She moved closer until she stood before him and let her healing senses reach out, not wanting to touch him just yet – not until she was sure he wanted her touch at this moment. But she sensed nothing amiss aside from the evidence on his face and had to swallow when she met his blank stare. “What was this about?” she asked softly.

Eris had to calmly count to ten and let out a long breath before he could speak, “I seemed to have gotten under the High Lord’s skin when I supposedly overstepped and intervened between him and my brothers the other day.” he explained and Iris watched with a grimace as his fists tightened at his sides. “He wanted to remind me of my place and to watch my tone because apparently, my sarcasm doesn’t translate well.” 

“So he finally noticed and said something about it?”

“Funny how he’s always benefited from me doing all his work for him and now has the nerve to get annoyed by it,” Eris grumbled then shook his head. “He wanted to warn us – me to behave tomorrow.” 

Iris felt her heart stutter in her chest. “Warn how?” 

“He wanted to make sure I didn’t intervene in my brother’s whore parade so they could pick wives.” 

Iris brows furrowed. “Given that they’re all in committed relationships, I don’t think it’s going to go the way he wants.”

“Hopefully, by the end of the night tomorrow, he’ll be dead and we won’t have to worry about him at all,” Eris spat and rolled his head back, breathing deeply and Iris felt his frustration seep off him.

She frowned and stopped in front of him, assessing his expression then reached out a hand to gently touch him. She waited a heartbeat, giving him the chance to push her hand away if he wanted to but Eris couldn’t seem to help but shudder at the touch, and after a moment’s hesitation, he turned his face to kiss her hand softly. “You’re almost there. Tomorrow, you all will be free of him. You’ve prepared as best as you can.” she said softly, letting her magic wipe away his hurt.

“I know and yet, I don’t feel prepared at all,” he said quietly and Iris had never seen his eyes so tired. “I feel like it’s going to all go to hell and I’m going to drag you all down with me.” 

Iris cupped his face and forced him to meet her gaze. “Everyone is ready to go down swinging with you, Eris. This is not on your shoulders alone,” she said. “Please…unburden yourself.” 

He shook his head slowly and pulled her hands from his face to hold in his own. “My head isn’t wired to do that,” he said. “I’m thinking about all of the things that could go wrong.”

“But what about all the things that could go right?” Iris asked, squeezing his hands.

Eris’s chuckle was weak. “How I ended up with an optimistic wife really is a comical event. You truly did marry into the wrong family.” 

The corner of Iris’s mouth lifted. “Fate does work in mysterious ways.” 

“Indeed,” he agreed, then took a step back, his expression shifting. “Do you have all your items prepared for tomorrow? Aside from the bag we sent ahead to Lucien and Elain’s.”

She tried not to let her face fall and nodded. “I have a small satchel and daggers to hide beneath my dress.”

“You know where you’ll be meeting Oren?”

“Yes.”

“And the drop-off location where you’ll winnow to reach Lucien?” 

“Yes, Eris,” she said wearily. “We went over all this in the morning.”

“And we shall review it again tomorrow. I cannot take any risks when it comes to you.” he said and Iris gave him a knowing look.

“I know,” she said quietly. “Do you want to try and get some sleep? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Eris shook his head, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep. I’m too tense. Too nervous.” he said and licked his lips, glancing at her in a way that made her pause.

She waited a heartbeat then asked, “...Is there something else?”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, his expression tight but with a sigh, Eris explained quietly, “When he was walking away from me, he paused a step away and…seemed to sense something in the air next to me.” 

Iris froze in his arms. “And you think that means…he knows something?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “Why else would he do that? You mentioned in the stables he seemed to sense something around you. What if he sensed something from me? What if he knows?”

“Eris –”

“Iris, I can’t – how can I —” he growled and his grip on her tightened. “If he knows and pulls some shit tomorrow that would harm you in any way I —”

“Eris.” Her tone was firm enough that it made him pause, his expression stricken in a way that made her chest ache for him. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“How can you –”

“And what if he does? What does it matter?” Iris asked. “Tomorrow, things will change regardless. What does it matter if he finds out about our bond now?”

Eris’s expression fell and his whisper was hoarse, “Because this is the one thing – you are the one thing that is all mine. I don’t want his mark on it.” 

Iris felt her heart crack, the same way it always did when she thought of the way he’d lived his life constantly on edge, constantly thinking and planning and scheming. She didn’t want this particular night together to be this way. He needed some peace and Iris needed him just as badly as he needed peace.

“It doesn’t matter what or if he does anything,” she said quietly but not weakly. “I am yours and you are mine and whatever tomorrow brings, we will face it. He doesn’t get to win.” 

Eris struggled not to tremble at her determined gaze. That he had someone to worry about was one thing but to have someone — her — worry about him like this? He could truly never bring her peace and yet – she looked at him like this. Like she lov— loved him. 

As he loved her.

“What do you need?” Iris found herself whispering, reaching out a hand to gently touch his face again and a thrill always did go through her at how many times she could make him shudder with her touches. Iris waited, watching as he worked his jaw, swallowing before his eyes met hers. Without saying anything, she could feel his every emotion and concern. The thread at her ribcage was a path to his every thought and she gently tugged at it as for once, her husband let his emotions flicker across his face. The panic, the worry, the desperation, and Iris would do anything to bring him ease. 

After an eternity, his response was a broken rasp, “You. I only need you.”

Iris softened and stepped closer, Eris's arm immediately wrapping around her waist to pull her into him. “You have me,” she said softly and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I am here, with you. I am yours.”

He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly, without saying a word, the look they shared conveyed exactly what he needed – wanted, and always craved. He needed her in every way. He needed to only see her tonight. To only feel her. 

Her eyes didn’t waver from his as she slowly slid a hand down his chest. She knew exactly what he needed to be able to get through this night and Iris wanted nothing more than for them to feed into their feelings. Her hand continued down, past the waistband of his trousers until her hand wrapped around his impressive length and Eris hissed as she squeezed him, slowly pumping. His arm tightened around her, tension lining every inch of him even as their mouths were a breath apart.

“Tell me what you need,” she whispered but Eris couldn’t do anything but watch the blush across her cheeks, trying not to have his eyes roll back as she tightened her grip. His breath stuttered as she leaned in closer to him, pumping him leisurely as she spoke, “Do you want me on my knees? Should I take you in my mouth?” Eris groaned and closed his eyes, leaning into her slightly when Iris quickened her pace and then slowed down. “Tell me what I can do to make you feel good.”

“I want you everywhere.” he rasped and opened his eyes, his gaze filled with a desperate kind of heat that Iris felt seep into her bones. “Anything you want. Everything you’re willing to give me. I want this night to be just about you and me. For nothing else to matter.”

“Then nothing else has to matter right now,” she said softly. “It’s always just you and me.”

Eris licked his lips, his request for permission written all over his face, and every desperate thought and emotion he had spilled into his next word, “Please.” 

All it took was a nod from his wife and any restraint Eris had snapped. His kiss was as desperate as he felt, chasing her lips and Iris whimpered into his mouth, her hands digging into his back, quickly backing her into the table of their dining room.

“I — I can’t be gentle right now.” He said urgently in between his kisses, his hands moving as quickly as hers, both trying to undress the other. “If you don’t want that — please tell me now I don’t want to —“

But she held up her hand and Eris froze immediately, breathing heavily with her barricaded between his arms. Tonight, there would be nothing gentle about their coupling. With how high stakes everything would be tomorrow, all Iris wanted – needed was him. “I don’t want gentle," Iris said quietly. "I want whatever you'll give me.”

The demand in her tone had a noise he never thought he could make slip from his throat and Eris surged forward to claim her lips once more, searing himself into her.

His hands couldn’t move fast enough; he shoved her dress down her body, undergarments with it and Eris only got a second to admire her body before getting distracted by Iris’s own hands practically ripping off his clothing and in an instant, he helped her send them flying. He turned her around, pushing her body down and Iris hissed at the sensation of the cold table to her heated naked body. She couldn’t help but lean forward even further, presenting herself to him, and couldn’t stop the mewl that slipped from her lips when he smacked her ass. 

She looked over her shoulder and found Eris’s eyes on her, spreading her legs and Iris couldn’t stop the arch of her hips, biting her lip with a soft moan when his fingers slipped into her already wet folds.

“This is going to be hard and fast. I promise to be nice to you later but now…now I need to fuck you, wife.” He said and the low tenor of his voice made her hips arch back further, her breaths in time with his fingers teasing her entrance. “You understand?”

“Then you better fuck me hard, mate.” she said and Eris’s breath shuddered as she whispered, “I’m all yours.”

“Brace yourself,” was all he said before Eris thrust into her without preamble, and Iris let out a ragged moan, clutching onto the table as he had her. Eris fisted a hand in her hair and fucked her at a vicious pace and she could do nothing but bend over further for him, whimpering helplessly.

Her body took him and his brutal pace, Iris groaning as Eris grunted into her ear and Iris felt her impending release slowly start to build. The sensation of his tight grip on her hair, his other hand firmly on her back to keep her down was fueling a lust like never before in her.

It made her realize that she desperately liked it when he unleashed himself on her. That in fact, she loved that he was fucking her like this, especially as he thrust into her so hard again, he hit a spot she hadn’t thought existed until him. 

Looking over her shoulder, her breath quickened at the sight of the fire blazing in his eyes as he claimed her.

“Husband.” She gasped and Eris’s eyes snapped up to her, the hand on her back sliding to her ass and squeezing.

“Wife.”

“Harder.” She demanded and Eris’s eyes glazed over, the words driving him into a frenzy. He growled so deeply, goosebumps erupted all over her and the hand fisted in her hair pulled her head back so he could claim her lips, bruising her with a kiss.

“Gladly, mate.” he purred.

She shuddered and tried to meet his pace but Eris had unleashed himself completely and her husband was gone. Pushing her down fully on the table, the grip on her hips was deliciously painful as he thrust wildly.

There was no hope for her to catch up and Iris happily let him claim her, her release creeping closer – knowing how much they needed this with all that tomorrow would bring. The sound of his heavy breathing, the sound of their bodies meeting, and finally when he smacked her ass hard enough she knew there would be a mark, Iris shattered with a delicate cry.

Eris grunted and didn’t give her a moment to shudder through her climax as he pulled out, his length hard and wet with her release. He turned her over so fast and before she could realize what was happening, her husband had her flat on her back on the table.

Yanking her to the edge, he spread her legs for him and slapped her cunt, rubbing the slickness of her release in her folds. “I didn’t ask you to come.” He purred, his tone just a little mean and Iris arched her back off the table with a throaty groan as he slapped her sex again. “You like it when I slap your cunt, wife? Your cunt that belongs to me?”

But Iris was having a hard time getting her mouth to form words and could only breathe heavily, nodding. 

“I want to hear your answer, little gazelle.” he growled and slapped her cunt again, the sting a little harder and Iris cried out.

“Yes.” Iris wouldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed at the whimper that left her lips when he did it once more with a savage grin.

“That’s my good girl.”

Iris’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as his hips snapped into hers and held, the sensation so overwhelmingly good she could already feel another release building. 

The blaze in his eyes become more prominent, predatory as he pulled back only to pound into her again, his thrusts frantic and the pace merciless, watching her take his cock; a choked sob slipping from Iris’s lips when he pushed her legs further apart and held down, the angle deepening his reach. Her hand slid to her clit and his smirk was wild as he watched her play with herself, her pace trying to match his.

“You take me so fucken good, wife. I need to fuck you in front of a mirror so you can see the way my cock fills you up. So you can see how your swollen cunt drips with need for me.” His voice was guttural and Iris bit her lips, the words only igniting more fire in her – more want. “You like it like this? You like it when I lose control? When I fuck you like an animal?”

“Yes.” She breathed and Eris clenched his jaw, his thrusts now desperate. 

“My hand — your throat.” his words were barely understood as another choked whimper slipped from Iris and she begged, 

“Please.”

Her plea had Eris’s hand slide to her throat and Iris’s mouth fell open at the sensation of his grip tightening slightly.

“You like that?” He ground out, snapping his hips into her hard enough, it caused her to shift back onto the table slightly.

But Iris could only gasp as he pulled her back to the edge of the table with a growl, his grip on her throat heightening all her other senses, her free hand clenching the hand on her throat desperately.

“I’m —“

“I’ll have you dripping all over this table momentarily, wife.” He snarled. “Patience.”

And Iris let him lose himself inside her as she lost herself in him. The feeling of being at his mercy like this would’ve had her breaking out in hives once upon a time but now she trusted him so thoroughly that giving him this type of control — control he needed – was so freeing. She was free falling and the sound of his rough grunts as he fucked her senseless sent her right over the edge once more with a tight moan.

“I said pati — fuck.” He growled and his thrusts became even more erratic as she clenched her walls around him, her body bowing off the table with a silent scream, her release coursing through her.

“Eris.” She whined and the sound of his name whispered from her lips undid him.

Eris cursed, pumping hard as he spilled himself inside her and Iris watched him through hooded eyes, relishing the way his eyes closed, the hand not on her throat gripping her thigh tight enough she knew it would bruise. He leaned over her, resting his head in the crook of her neck,  his breathing unsteady as his thrusts slowed and Iris could only moan softly when he pressed himself in her and held again, his cock still pulsing inside her. Her thumb caressed the hand still wrapped around her throat and Iris licked her lips, pleasure still coursing through her. 

When he finally opened his eyes and pulled back slightly, the sight of her underneath him, splayed beautifully, almost had him come again; he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of her, and judging by the way her walls still tightened around his shaft, Eris was sure she didn’t mind. He loved being inside her, loved it when she warmed his cock.

The fingers around her throat stroked her neck gently before he let go and peppered it with soft kisses that earned him a breathless sigh from his wife’s lips and he couldn’t help his small smile when he pulled back to meet her gaze.

And Eris felt his whole being crumble when she smiled softly at him and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing her with such tenderness that Iris felt her heart break a little. This was the way it was between them – a little rough balanced in with a little soft; she was the only one who made him realize how much he needed that softness. 

She pulled him closer with a hand on the back of his neck, the other on his chest, and wrapped her legs around his waist, the movement pushing him deeper inside her, and Iris had to bite her lip to swallow the wanton sound she knew would come out of her mouth. But she wanted to wrap her very being around him and keep him close to her heart, where he would be safe and whole and hers. She wanted him forever like this, in her arms as he kissed her and touched her and looked at her like she was the only one who mattered.

Their kiss deepened and when he shifted slightly, she wasn’t sure who made the breathless noise between them as she tightened around his cock again.

He shifted slightly, brushing a hair out of her face. “You’re trying to torture me, aren’t you?” he gasped and Iris giggled. 

“I’m only giving you what you wanted.” 

His gaze was smoldering and Iris felt her whole body heat as they shared a breath but Eris forced himself to pause, his eyes roaming her face. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly and Iris felt his nervousness start to creep up. “Did I —“

“You didn’t hurt me.” She said immediately and leaned up to leave a quick kiss on his neck, running a hand down his chest. “I liked it. I liked it a lot. In fact –” Iris slid her hands up his toned arms then down his back slowly until they settled on his backside and she squeezed, digging her nails into his flesh. Her cheeks flushed as he groaned, rocking into her. “I think you and I are far from finished.”

Eris’s eyes flashed with desire as her words ignited a fire within him; she always knew what he needed without saying a word. His wife. His friend. His mate.

She was his and he was hers and Eris – who had never even dreamed of this, would hold on to this glowing thread between them like the lifeline it was.

“You’re right,” he said and his voice was a sensuous caress as he leaned closer. “I am far from done with you, little gazelle.” 

Little else was said as the two moved, and there was nothing soft about this claiming, nothing gentle about the need and desperation in their touches. Everything would change tomorrow and Eris couldn’t stop himself from letting himself be all wrapped up in her. For having this night of forgetting. 

And Eris promised himself he would do whatever it takes for their tomorrow to have a tomorrow. Whatever it takes to bring them peace. Regardless of how many pieces he had to break himself to do it. 

[tealdoodles]

Happy Pocky Day. Completely inspired by @emelinstriker picture here.

Also also inspired by this post that pops up every once in a while in my head. CHOMP!

Don’t worry Reader plays a few games of pocky with the Champion(s) macaque really wanted to play the game properly and got a new stick. And reader has a difficult time saying no to him. How can you? Look it him being all adorable!

And now to go research the history of Pocky Day right before I go to bed.

[sad-endings-suck]

and if I said that lots of mizu/akemi shippers are actually mizu/fem self-insert and mizu/fem oc shippers then what?

[kiwisandpearls]

oh my god man

Hey, “character x oc” fanartists?

can you guys please stop tagging your “character x oc” artwork as “character x reader”?

[breadbrobin]

the bet

cedric diggory x oc — harry potter

[fem!oc]

summary: morgan ridge could turn down many things. food, romantic advances, friendships. but she could never turn down a good bet.

warnings: quite a lot of swearing (morgan is a bad influence methinks), kissing, betting/gambling, NOT x reader, fem!oc, GOD they’re in love with each other, minor character death (sort of), i think i’m a comedian with this story apparently (spoiler, i’m not), third person pov.

word count: 5.7k

(LOOK i knowwww that x oc fics don’t do as well on tumblr so if this doesn’t do well i’ll rewrite it and post as an x reader too but i don’t really want to rn so i’m just posting it as is bc idgaf really. anyway i’ve had this in my drive for like three years and it’s finally time to share morgan with the world yayyy (i love her she’s so silly))

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The Inciting Incident

It all started when Lizzie Crawford entered the bathroom.

“God, Liz, do you ever knock?” Morgan asked, mostly unfazed. She was used to her friend bursting in unannounced almost every time she was showering.

“No,” Lizzie said, perching on the edge of the closed toilet and picking at her chipped nail polish. “Now, I have a proposition for you.”

Morgan poked her head around the opaque shower curtain. “Oh?”

She hummed absently, running her hand through her hair. “So you know how Diggory’s spending some of the summer with you, and then you don’t live that far away so you’ll probably be in each other’s pockets all break?”

“Uh… yes? Obviously, I know that? Why does that matter?”

“Well, I’ll bet you twenty galleons that you’ll get some action with him over the holidays.”

Morgan turned the shower off and peeked around the shower curtain at her friend. “Come again?”

“I bet you twenty galleons that you’ll get some with Diggory over the holidays.”

“He’s my friend.”

“And? Do we have a deal?”

Morgan paused, considering her options. On one hand, she knew she didn’t have feelings for Cedric. On the other, it felt wrong to take a bet like that. Finally, her lack of moral compass won. “Fine. We have a deal.”

“Great! I can’t wait to be twenty galleons richer.”

“Yeah,” she laughed, turning the shower on again and running conditioner through the ends of her hair. “Keep dreaming, Liz.”

“What are the conditions?” Camilla Maquez asked, leaning across the table at dinner.

“Conditions?” Morgan asked, buttering a bread roll and handing it to her.

“Yeah, like, what constitutes as ‘getting some’,” she used quotation marks. “Because you two are so affectionate anyway, so Liz, you need to specify.”

Morgan rolled her eyes and pulled a face at her friend.

“No, she’s right,” Lizzie cut in. “Kissing? That counts.”

“Only lips though right?” she clarified.

“Yes, Morgan. Holding hands romantically counts. Gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes.” she hummed in thought. “Hugs with romantic context.”

Camilla snorted into her bread. When the other two shot her a confused look, she raised her hands. “It’s funny because they do all of this anyway.”

“Not romantically,” Morgan pointed out.

“Mhm,” she smirked.

“Piss off.”

“Anyway,” Lizzie continued. “Legs. Anything to do with legs. Touching your leg with his hand or leg or anything romantically.”

“Mm, that’s sexy stuff,” Camilla mocked.

“Like I said, piss off.”

“Obviously sex.”

“Liz!”

“Which you probably won’t do, but I need to keep my options open here.” she rectified.

“I have a bet myself,” Camilla spoke up again.

Morgan sighed. “Yes?”

“Not with you.” she waved her off. “Five galleons says Diggory makes the first move.”

“That is not fair. We all know Morgan’s a pussy.”

“Hey!”

Lizzie laughed. “Just speaking the truth, hun. Oh! Pet names, but like, meaningfully, counts.”

“Are you taking my action, Liz?” Camilla implored, sticking her hand out.

She shook her head. “I guess so. You better prove me doubly right, Morgan!”

“Not planning on it,” she sang quietly, returning to her dinner.

The Cow Situation

Before Morgan knew it, the school year was over.

She woke up around midday, that first day back, and stared at the ceiling, relishing in the silence that surrounded her. The birds chirped outside her window and a thin ray of sunlight peeked through the tan curtains, leaving a golden line across her body and room.

With a sigh, she rolled out of bed and rubbed her eyes. Her hair was a tangled mess around the back of her head, but she simply pulled it into a loose bun and headed downstairs.

A note sat on the kitchen counter.

Taken the dog for a walk, be back around 1:30. Hopefully you’ll be up by then…

Love, Mum

Morgan smiled softly and put two pieces of bread in the toaster.

She leaned against the counter and stared out into the yard. A few chickens pecked and scratched the dusty ground and a pair of cows grazed in the field behind them. A small girl sat on the trampoline, not bouncing.

She frowned as she opened the door and walked over, scaring a chicken out of her way.

“Hey, Little C,” she called. “What’s up?”

Cordelia Ridge, her nine year old sister looked over her shoulder and looked back. “Hi.”

Morgan’s smile fell from her face and she climbed up onto the trampoline beside her. “Uh oh. What’s going on, Cords?”

“Mummy says Diedre is sick,” she pointed at the black and white cow.

“Sweetie, Diedre’s always getting sick.” she sighed. “Shoddiest immune system I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen you.” she poked her side, enticing a giggle out of the girl.

“So she’s gonna be okay?”

“Of course! It’s Diedre. She’s always pulled through before. Why not now?”

They were holding a funeral for Diedre the cow.

Cordelia was absolutely beside herself. Morgan stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder, the other hand holding a bouquet of long grasses, hand picked and arranged that morning.

It was a dry day, and the sun was shining, and Cordelia was glaring up at it like it was personally offending her.

“Don’t look at the sun, Little C. You’ll go blind,” Morgan chided, pulling her sunglasses off and slipping them on her sister’s face.

“Maybe I want to,” she sniffed. “Maybe I deserve it.”

Her face contorted in confusion. “What?”

“I should have realised sooner,” she wept. “I should have given her the love she deserved.”

Morgan stared down at her younger sister, whose bottom lip was wobbling precariously. She crouched down and tucked her wispy hair behind her ear. “Listen to me, Cordelia. There was nothing you could’ve done. The animal doctor said that it was just time for her to go. Like Grandma.”

That apparently did not help.

The floodgates opened and the sunglasses fell off. Cordelia planted her face in Morgan’s shoulder and wailed.

As the young girl cried, Morgan’s eyes caught onto two tall figures walking towards the family.

Her mum smiled softly at her before walking over to the people.

The larger of the two hugged her and she led them over to her daughters.

Morgan saw it was Cedric and she waved slightly.

He raised his brows at the crying girl she held before crouching down beside her and tapping Cordelia’s shoulder.

“Hey, Dells.” he said quietly, making her sobs quieten and her head turn towards him. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She sniffled once, then twice, and detached herself from her sister. Morgan breathed a sigh of relief, believing the worst to be over, when the nine-year-old launched herself onto Cedric, crying into his black shirt.

He shot her a small smile, reaching out and patting her knee gently as he comforted her sobbing sister.

Her stomach lurched.

That should have been her first sign.

The Flowers

Cedric was splayed out on her bed. One of his feet hung off near Morgan’s head and she was infinitely glad for his quality hygiene.

She was reading the Wizard of Oz again, and he was dutifully drawing something that he refused to show her.

“Okay,” he finally said. “I’m done.”

She finished her page and slipped the bookmark in, turning to him. “Can I see?”

“No, I drew this for you but you’re never allowed to look at it.” he teased, straight faced.

“Never?”

“Never.” He broke into a smile and shoved the sketch pad in her face.

It was a… Well, she wasn’t exactly sure what it was. There was some interesting shading, a tuft of what could either be grass or hair and a strange egg shaped blob in the middle.

She hoped her face didn’t show her emotions as she quickly schooled her features into a smile. “It’s great, Ced.”

He had a wide grin plastered on his face as he nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I know. Now turn the page.”

She did as he said and blinked in shock, her jaw dropping. “There is no way you drew this.”

“I’ve been practising.”

“Have you been taking classes from freaking Van Gogh in between Quidditch practise?” she gaped, looking from the sketch of sunflowers and daisies and his beaming face.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “An artist never reveals his secrets.”

“I think that’s meant to be magician.”

“Same thing.” he waved her off. “Anyway, I know sunflowers are your favourite, and daisies are my favourite. So I combined them.”

“This is honestly incredible.” she gushed.

“Oh, stop it.”

“No, seriously.” She stood up. “Can I put it on my wall?”

“Go for it,” he beamed, somehow even brighter than before.

She gently pulled the page from the pad and ripped a tab of blu-tack off, sticking it to the wall above her desk. Once it was hung, she stepped back to admire it. “Oh!” she gasped. “You need to sign it!”

Cedric stood up and brushed past her, scribbling his signature on the bottom right corner with a small heart. “Happy?”

“Mhm.”

That should have been her second sign.

They stood side by side and admired it for a moment.

Then Morgan broke the silence.

“I can’t draw for shit,” she laughed. “And look at you. Mister Artist himself.”

“Oh, piss off,” he groaned, hugging her shoulders from behind and resting his chin on her head. “You can sing though. I can’t.”

“Liar.” she scoffed, patting his arm. “I’ve heard you sing. Besides, you’re practically perfect at everything you do.”

Just as he was about to respond, Cordelia burst through the lightly shut door, eyes still red and puffy. The two separated quickly. “Lunch is ready.”

“Thanks, Dells,” he nodded. “We’ll be right there.”

As she left, he wrapped an arm around Morgan’s shoulders and led her out. “God, I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“Very funny.”

The Second Week

As with most summers, Morgan and Cedric spent almost every waking moment in each other’s company.

Unlike most summers, however, Morgan couldn’t chase the thoughts of a certain bet from her mind.

She knew, she knew, that there was nothing to it. That it was just her friends being annoying and messing with her and everything she’d started reading into was just in her head… But, God, was it hard to remember sometimes.

She was just worried that he’d find out. Maybe one of her friends would send her a letter mentioning it? (Not that he’d ever read her letters.) What if Liz came for a random visit? Or worse: what if she told her friends, the Weasley twins, and they came for a visit?

She chased her swirling thoughts from her mind as Cedric walked through the front door, performing the mental equivalent of shoving all of the mess in your room into the wardrobe and hoping it closed right.

“Hey,” she smiled, standing up with her bowl of milk that used to hold cereal. “You’re early.”

“It’s eleven o’clock.”

“Yeah, early,” she shrugged, setting the now empty bowl in the sink. “What’s up?”

“Wanna go into town?” he asked, leaning on the counter and gesturing to the fruit bowl.

She tossed him an apple. “Sure. When?”

“Now?”

She sighed heavily, half-joking. “A bit more warning would be nice. Lemme go get changed.”

“Yes!” he cheered through a mouthful of apple. “You’re the best, Mo!”

Mo? She wondered as she jogged up the stairs. Since when am I Mo?

If she’d been listening carefully, she would have heard Cedric bang his head against the kitchen counter.

The town was quiet as always.

A farmer’s market was dying down, most vendors packing their remaining wares and smiling sheepishly at Morgan and Cedric as they wove their way through the stunted stalls. They purchased a fresh bread roll and split it between them as they walked, both surprised that it was still warm.

“You know,” Cedric said after a few minutes of silence as they left the market and strolled along the main street. “We should do this more often.”

Morgan squinted as she looked up at him, the sun assaulting her eyes. “Really?” she asked dryly. “What, burn ourselves to a crisp and get blinded while we’re at it?”

“No, dummy. Do stuff.”

“What? You don’t like doing nothing with me?” she teased.

“No, no, I love doing nothing with you,” he stole a chunk of bread that she’d been eyeing up. “But I also like spending money.”

“I bought the bread. I was the one who spent the money.”

He gasped, as if he didn’t already know. “What? Really?”

“Shut up, Ced,” she smiled, pushing him and stealing the last chunk of bread from the packet.

Morgan was awake uncharacteristically early, so when she knocked on the Diggory’s front door, Cedric looked supremely confused.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked. “Did someone die?”

“No, why would you— You’re an arsehole, you know that?” she pouted.

“Yeah, I know. Come on.”

He led her down the short hallway and into the living area. Morgan sighed contentedly. The Diggory’s house always smelled amazing; a combination of vanilla, coffee and cleaning supplies that somehow worked. Cedric often smelled similar, she realised. The vanilla that clouded the house seemed to hang around him as well. She shook herself out of it as he began speaking.

“My dad’s gotten obsessed with the TV,” he admitted, nodding towards the man who was watching with a rapt expression. “He doesn’t really understand it, but he’s addicted. He really likes cricket. Probably because he can’t figure out how to change the channel.”

“Oh, I used to play cricket! I love it so much!” she gushed, joining Amos on the couch. “Who’s playing?”

“England and India,” he said distractedly.

“ODI, T20 or test?”

“Test. We’re on Day Two.”

“So England’s batted?”

“Three-thirty-seven.”

“Not bad,” she squinted at the numbers on the screen, showing one-twenty-eight for six.

“I have no idea what you guys are saying,” Cedric cut in, looking blankly between them.

“We’re talking sport,” Amos said, almost giddily.

Morgan didn’t spare either of them a glance as the English captain went upstairs for a review. “Yeah, get back in the kitchen.” She teased. “Go make us a sandwich.”

“I thought you were coming to hang out with me,” he almost pouted.

She finally dragged her eyes from the screen. “But… Cricket…”

He shook his head with a smile. “Right, of course. Two sandwiches coming right up.”

The Moment She Knew

Their days seemed doomed to repeat. Groundhog day, Morgan’s mum had called it. So, when she found a way to rid herself of the monotony of daily life, she took it without a second thought.

“Mum, please!”

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll even get petrol! I’ll… I’ll… I’ll pay for it myself too!”

“Morgan…”

“Mum,” she pleaded. “It’s just me and Ced. It’s a twenty minute drive and I’ll get petrol on the way back. We’ll be back by four and I’ll wear suitable shoes while driving.”

Whitney Ridge pursed her lips in thought. Then she sighed. “Fine. Don’t bother getting petrol, I’ll fill up on the way home from work on Monday.”

Morgan squeaked in excitement, hugging her mum tightly. “Thank you! You’re the best! I love you!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Love you too, Moggy,” she smiled.

True to her word, Morgan did wear suitable shoes. The drive ended up taking around twenty-five minutes, but she supposed her mother couldn’t fault her for driving just under the speed limit all the way there.

There was a secluded lake she’d found out about from an old magazine in her mum’s collection, when she’d been looking for something, anything, to make her days less boring.

“This is awesome,” Cedric breathed as they broke through the treeline and onto the rocky shore of the small lake.

“Yeah,” she sighed contentedly, breathing in the fresh air.

They set up their towels and supplies in the shade of a tree and pulled off their sturdy shoes.

Cedric pulled his shirt over his head. Morgan would be lying if she said her eyes didn’t catch on his muscles.

“Race you in,” he said as she had her own shirt halfway over her head.

“What?” she asked, hearing him run away. “Oh, you prick!”

She tossed her shirt on the ground, followed by her shorts, leaving her in her bikini, pouting as Cedric splashed around in the cool, blue water.

She stomped over to the water’s edge, frowning down at him. The rock she was standing on was about a metre above the surface, casting a navy shadow over the rippling water. He waded a few metres out from her.

“You coming?” he asked.

“No,” she pouted, folding her arms. “I don’t swim with cheaters.”

He barked a laugh, swimming over to the edge and pulling himself out. Droplets of water hit her skin.

She backed away. “Cedric…”

He took a step closer.

“Don’t you dare, Diggory…”

He tilted his head, grinning widely as he continued to step closer to her. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Sure, you don’t,” she pointed at him. “Stay back!”

He laughed and pushed off his heels, springing towards her. Before he could reach her, however, she turned tail and ran, feet skimming over the rocks as she raced for the safety of the towels.

She only managed to get a few steps away before he caught her, his cold arms wrapping around her waist and lifting her off the ground. He spun around, carrying her back to the edge of the water and tossing her into the lake.

She yelped as the cold water hit her, but remembered to hold her breath, her dark hair swirling around her face in the water. She heard the telltale sound of him jumping in too and forced herself up to the surface.

“I hate you!” she gasped, pushing her hair off her forehead. “I hate you so fucking much!”

“Liar!” he retorted, shaking his head and sending water droplets flying everywhere. “You love me.”

She didn’t respond for a moment, treading water and staring at him. “You wish,” she finally uttered.

He just smiled.

The days ticked by much faster than expected. Soon, Cedric was waving his parents off on their week-long trip and then hauling his bags over to Morgan’s house, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What did you do?” she immediately asked when they were alone.

He closed the door gently before skipping over to the bed in the guest bedroom he was staying in. He sat on it cross-legged, still smiling, and patted the mattress ahead of him.

When she finally sat down, he leaned forward.

“Guess what I bought,” he said.

She waited.

“You’re meant to ask,” he sighed.

“Oh, my bad,” she cleared her throat. “What did you bring, Cedric?”

He didn’t answer, simply reaching down to his backpack and pulling out a bottle of firewhiskey.

“That’s it? Oh, you sweet, sweet child,” she teased. “I have three of those in my room.”

“Sorry, Mo, not all of us are casual rulebreakers,” he sniffed.

She pushed his shoulder. “I’m kidding, Ced. I mean, technically, I’m not, but I do appreciate the sentiment.”

He poked his tongue out at her.

The Night Things Happened

The day started like any other.

Morgan and Cedric usually woke up at vastly different times, so when he woke up, he went for a run, had a shower and ate a light breakfast before going to wake her.

A lot of groaning and a few thrown pillows later, they were standing in the kitchen making pancakes.

As Morgan flipped another one, leading to Cedric cheering as if she’d never done it before, Whitney entered the kitchen.

“Morning, you two,” she greeted, kissing her daughter’s temple and patting Cedric’s shoulder. “Cords and I are going to that Girl Scouts sleepover tonight, remember? So you’ll have to make dinner yourselves.”

“Yup, we know, Mum,” Morgan said, taking the pancake out of the pan and slapping it onto a plate. “We’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you burning the house down. Remember last time?”

“Mum.” She turned to her grimly. “We don’t talk about last time.”

Whitney raised her hands in surrender. “Right, right. But, on a more serious note. I shouldn’t have to tell you not to invite anyone else over and to be in bed by one, should I? And I won’t come home to drunk teenagers all over my house?”

“Nope, we’ll be all good, Ms Ridge,” Cedric shot her a winning smile.

She pursed her lips jokingly. “Mhm… Alright, I trust you two. I’m going to the shops, need anything?”

“We need more eggs.”

“Eggs, got it.”

The night was when things changed.

After Whitney and Cordelia were gone, at least long enough that it was unlikely they’d turn around and come back, they took their first swig of firewhiskey.

It burned its way down Morgan’s throat, like it always did. Cedric coughed and sputtered, nearly spitting it mouthful out.

She held back a laugh. “You alright, Golden Boy?”

“Shut up,” he seethed, voice hoarse.

She raised her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I was just asking.”

They sat and ate the pizza they’d ordered already, taking sips of firewhiskey whenever they felt like it.

Morgan closed her pizza box one slice after Cedric did, placing it on top of his on the coffee table. “You good?”

“Great,” he smiled dopily. It seemed the whiskey was hitting him harder than he was letting on.

She smiled back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She took a larger swig of whiskey, shaking her head at the strength. “I just wanna point out that if you get sick, I’m not cleaning you up. Got it?”

“Yeah, got it.” He nodded, looking a little bit more put together. “I’d clean you up though. If you got sick.”

She smiled again. “Thanks, Ced.”

The night was going surprisingly well. They’d turned on the TV, both staring, fixated at Friends reruns, leaning heavily on each other. The bottle was half gone and, as the advertisements came on, they each took another swig.

Cedric was looking at her weird.

She straightened up, frowning in confusion. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he slurred slightly. “You’re just… Fuck, you’re pretty.”

Her heart fluttered. “Oh. So are you.”

He blushed, looking down. “Yeah, I know.”

Morgan couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Yeah, I bet you do, Goldie.”

“Goldie?”

“Golden Boy. It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

“You’re cute.”

“No, you’re cute.”

“You’re cuter.”

“No, you are.”

“You are.”

“You…” he was very close to her now, his grey eyes darting between her brown eyes and her lips. “You’re very pretty, Mo. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed.

“No, I don’t think you know how pretty you are. Like… When you laugh your eyes light up, and… And when you do that thing when you’re thinking… Where your eyebrow twitches… Oh, and that thing you do… The thing when your favourite songs come on and you tap your legs really fast…”

Morgan swallowed tightly as his hand brushed her cheek. His breath smelled of firewhiskey, but she was sure hers did too.

He wasn’t looking at her eyes anymore. “You’re incredible, Morgan. And you deserve to know that.”

“Cedric…” she started.

“Sh,” he cut her off. He was hardly an inch away now. “Don’t talk. Just…”

Friends came back on the TV.

“Just watch Friends with me.” He leaned back, looping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her flush against his side.

She tried with all her might to ignore her pounding heart.

She wasn’t sure if she was going to win this bet after all. In fact, she thought she might have just lost it already.

The Rainy Days

Neither Morgan or Cedric had brought up what he’d said that night, but it hung in the air between them, stagnant and stiff, leaving awkwardness to rest in the growing distance.

It was odd, Morgan realised. One moment, they were closer than ever before, hugging for a second too long, soft touches as hands brushed, then the next, they were sitting at opposite ends of a metaphorical couch, shooting furtive glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

It was confusing, and Morgan was conflicted.

She almost wanted to bring it up. She knew he remembered, that much was clear. It was obvious in the subtlest of looks, the gentlest of touches, the softest of smiles. But sometimes, it would leap to the forefront of his mind and, cheeks red, eyes downcast, he would retreat into himself.

And so, neither Morgan or Cedric brought it up.

No matter how much they may have wanted to.

The days passed in almost comfortable normalcy.

There were no trips to the lake or the town, just sitting and enjoying each other’s company.

She and Cordelia taught him how to play Last Card on a thundery Tuesday, all pouting out the window at the storm.

“I hate thunder,” Cedric shuddered. “It’s the worst to play Quidditch in too.”

“I don’t think it’s safe to play in thunder,” Morgan huffed, collecting the cards after he won again. “I mean, lightning strikes the highest object, right? And look what happened to Harry last season.”

“Yeah, that was horrible,” he cringed, taking the cards from her and shuffling them. “Although that was the Dementors too.”

She pulled a face. “Still not an excuse. It really isn’t safe.”

Cordelia looked between them in confusion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You remember Quidditch, right?” Cedric asked. “On the broomsticks.”

She nodded slowly. “Did you know that witches riding broomsticks used to be a euphemism for riding the devil’s—”

“—Oh-kay, that’s enough cards for today!” Morgan cut in. “Cords, why don’t you go grab a board game, yeah?”

“Okay!” she chirped, dancing off upstairs.

Morgan breathed a sigh of relief and slumped in her chair.

Cedric shot her an amused look.

“Shut up,” she muttered.

When Morgan saw a person running towards her house without an umbrella in the pouring rain, she decided they were an idiot.

Then the figure got closer and she realised that it was her idiot.

“God, Cedric, you dipshit,” she whispered, dropping the knife she was using to butter her toast on the bench and running to the door, grabbing a towel from a clean pile on the way.

She opened the door just as he reached the front steps, having to grip onto the handle tight so that the wind didn’t rip it from its hinges.

“What are you doing?” she asked over the downpour, letting him inside and handing him the towel.

“I swear it didn’t start raining until I was halfway here.” His teeth were chattering. “Gotta love English weather.”

She shook her head in defeat. “Shut up and go take a hot shower. I’ll bring you something to wear.”

He didn’t even move to object, shuffling towards the bathroom instantly.

Morgan left a bundle of warm clothes outside the door and sat on the couch to wait.

Thankfully, she wasn’t alone with her thoughts for very long.

Cedric padded into the room with his hair wet and messy and in a hoodie that he’d left at her house a few weeks before. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“Are you okay?” she handed him a blanket as he sat down next to her.

He nodded. He looked significantly less cold than before. “Merlin, the last time I was this cold was when you pushed me into the Black Lake.”

“I didn’t push you, you slipped.”

“Yeah, right,” he huddled closer to her, making her tense up briefly. The last time they were this close on the couch…

“Hey, Morgan…” he said quietly after a few beats.

“Hm?”

“About that night—”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to—”

“No, I think we should—”

“Cedric,” she said firmly. “Don’t worry about it. You were drunk. It’s okay.”

He paused, studying her like he was committing all of her features to memory. She knew she was doing that for him. “Okay.”

They sat in silence, watching the rain stream down the window.

The Confession

Morgan had a confession to make.

First, to herself: she liked Cedric—No. She was in love with Cedric.

It was the way he said her name like it was made of porcelain, fragile, delicate. It was the way their bodies fit perfectly together when they hugged, their bodies and hands made for holding each other. It was the way he looked at her, that night and every day since—every day ever, actually; like she’d hung the moon and the stars in the sky. It was the way he made her feel safe.

Was that so difficult?

Yes, a nagging voice in the back of her mind muttered. You’re going to be twenty galleons more broke because of your stupid feelings.

Maybe, she countered. But I don’t even care anymore.

Her next confession would be to Cedric. That was slightly more difficult.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have the opportunity; they were almost always at each other’s houses. It was more to do with the issue of her being too scared. She shied away from admitting it every time she thought she was ready, pushing her feelings down and down until they were compressed under a pile of anxiety.

So, the confession was going well. Really well.

She stole another glance at him across the room, peering over her book to find him already staring at her. She withheld a squeak and looked back down, sinking lower into her end of the couch.

“Alright, what is it?” he asked, slipping a bookmark between the pages and setting his book on the end table.

“What is what?” She didn’t take her eyes off her book, pretending to read with her eyes locked on one phrase: ‘I love you.’

Is it that easy? She asked herself. I just say it?

Cedric leaned forward and pushed her book down. “Well, either that page is very interesting or you suddenly can’t read, because you haven’t turned the page in about twenty minutes.”

“I’m absorbing it properly,” she lifted it back up but he pushed it down again.

“Absorbing it, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Well, my other thought was that you were so distracted staring at me every five seconds that you forgot to actually read.”

She dropped her book, struggling to catch it and sending it careening onto the floor. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. “No.”

He was smiling, that soft, almost smug smile that she’d fallen in love with. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Uh-huh, because from here, it looked like you were staring at me.”

She sat up straight. “Really? How odd.”

“Hmm…” he smiled a bit brighter. God, she wanted to kiss him. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”

She breathed an inaudible sigh of relief as he leaned back.

“Shame, because I was actually quite flattered.”

“Oh, I bet you were,” she scoffed.

He leaned back into the couch, opening his book agonisingly slow.

Morgan stared at him, legs crossed and brows furrowed. Her head was swirling with thoughts, all repeating, Cedric, Cedric, Cedric. She’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad, to just hold someone. She’d never, ever in her life, wanted to lose a bet.

His grey eyes flickered up to her once, then twice, then again. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, what the fuck,” she muttered, pushing herself forward and pressing her lips to his.

He dropped his book, the hardback thudding dully on the floor right next to hers, but neither cared. His hands found their place on her waist as she leaned over him, one arm supporting her on the wall behind him, the other entangled in his brown hair.

Butterflies danced in Morgan’s stomach, her heart racing wildly as their lips melded together. It was like they were made to kiss each other; the way they fit so perfectly, the curve of her cheek and the straight line of his nose. All of her swirling thoughts subsided, leaving only one: Cedric.

God, she never wanted to stop kissing him. He was like sugar; tantalising, sweet, addictive.

He pulled away first, thumb digging subtly into her hip, lips parted and gasping for air. “Morgan…”

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, unable to find her voice. “But I couldn’t wait another—”

He kissed her again, more passionate; noses knocking, hearts pounding, hair standing on end. She wondered how she got so lucky. God, she was lucky.

This kiss was more intense, all those weeks of pent up emotion, released in that moment.

She never wanted it to end.

But, as her lungs gasped for air and her head began to swim, she pulled away. He chased her lips, pressing a final, sweet kiss to them, before resting his head back again.

“Never apologise for that,” he breathed. “Never.”

“Got it,” she whispered, eyes tracing a pattern in his faint freckles. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

“Amazing at kissing?” he tilted his head.

“Just amazing in general.” She kissed him again.

The Pay-Up

Morgan had twenty galleons ready the second she set foot on the Hogwarts Train only a few weeks later. Cedric was holding her free hand as they wove past loitering students and nervous first years until they found Lizzie and Camila.

“Hey, Morgan, Cedric,” Lizzie raised her eyebrow at them.

Camila saw their connected hands and started prodding her arm.

“Hey, guys,” she smiled brightly. “Just paying up.”

She tossed Lizzie the bag of galleons and turned to Camila. “Sorry, I made the first move.”

“Liar,” she pointed at her. “Cedric, please tell me she’s lying.”

“Nope,” he let her hand go and wrapped it around her waist instead. “She kissed me first.”

Camila groaned, digging through her bag. “Fuck.”

As Lizzie danced in victory and Camila complained about Morgan finding her balls, Morgan had to admit, she had never been happier to lose a bet.

[powderblueblood]

got thinking about my monkeys paw edlacy au where they become successful professionals in new york (eddie, the founder of necromancer records; lacy, a fran lebowitz-type social commentator and sometimes new yorker columnist) but call off their engagement and end up acting like bitter divorcees (hate fucking and jealousy lmao)

and ended up banging this out idk

pairing: eddie munson x f!oc, written in second person immersive (you/yours)

wc: actually cba to check. it’s short

warnings: p in v, unprotected, office sex, hate fucking sort of, spit kink (m receiving)

eddie has your legs butterflied on a desk you’d wasted no time in insulting the second you walked through the door.

‘where’d you find this? a beer hall? this looks like it has about as much structural integrity as that piece of shit driftwood throne you used to sit on in high school—‘

but he’d swallowed your words with a hurried, ‘pipe down and open up, doevski,’ insisting on his tongue down your throat. a rendezvous like this (that shouldn’t be happening—you’d given the ring back, why are they still happening) require an awareness of his peripherals, so out of the corner of his eye, he can see where you’d neatly hung your skirt over the arm of his office sofa. it’s custom YSL, gifted from the last mucky magazine to-do you’d done, and it was too good to let him tear it off you. your panties were a different story, the shredded remnants of them now rucked up around your waist.

“why don’t you ever come by anymore?” eddie asks between breathless thrusts, mesmerised by your tits bouncing out of your unbuttoned blouse. god, he loves you like this. smart-rail me-casual. he should have asked you to bring a ruler to spank him with, but you would’ve liked that too much and he can’t acquiesce to you completely.

what with you being exes.

“i don’t come,” you gasp, entertaining his bullshit line of thinking, “by anymore because this is hostile territory. one of your little record company groupies called me a prep cunt the last time i was here. and she spat on me.”

a guttural sound gets coaxed out of eddie, and the flash of offense across your face is just too good. the thought of you getting verbally assaulted by some necromancer records acolyte isn’t a jolt to the balls (his fans are rabid and learned and hate you, vocally)—thinking of how angry that must’ve made you is. your cunt reflexively tightens around him and his jaw tightens back.

“if the stupid red bottom shoe fits—“

“—yes, but i could live without the spitting, eddie—“

“fuck, don’t say my name. yet.”

it’d be punishment if he didn’t live to have you choking him out like this.

“hol—hold on, this you sayin’ you’re not into spitting anymore?” he grits out, throbbing like a fucking injury inside of you. eddie’s hoping he leaves handprints where those flimsy webbed panties used to sit on your hips.

a blowback of a laugh leaves your mouth, and eddie wants to shove it back in with his tongue, but you grab the back of his head. “that you saying please?”

you tug; he tilts. he whines before he can stop it. god, he hates you—god, he needs this before he’s got to spend the rest of the day listening to shitty demo tapes.

“please,” he breathes.

you grin like the viper you are—so he promises himself to fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it from the time you struggle to walk out of his office to the time you sit on letterman’s guest chair later. social commentator. cultural critic. know-it-all bitch. love of his life.

“please, lace.” his poor, ragged mouth—the way you grab at his chin almost looks sympathetic, how raptured you are by his desperation. you can’t deny it, he knows that. he appeals to your fragile ego, you box his boisterous one down…

and say things like, “open wide, eddie.”

[ohmypawsandwhiskers]

WIP Wednesday

Here’s a snippet of the next chapter for Of Devils and Monsters, ft. a flashback scene with a young teenage Erwin and Lozen (Dani)!

The jab of a sharp elbow to the ribs broke the boy’s deep sleep under a canopy of stars and sent him flying upright with a gasp.

“Shh.” He found the girl crouched beside his bedroll, pressing a finger to his lips as he almost let out a yelp of surprise. And while her bidy was facing towards him, her golden eyes remained focused on some point behind him. Scanning. Anticipating as her body remained taught like a bow string ready to fire.

Erwin followed her gaze, looking over his shoulder to see familiar faces perched around their camp- some in trees or crouched behind the boulders that dotted the mountain-side, others layed belly down in the untamed forest vegetation with arrows aimed at the same treeline that had Dani so alert.

He turned his attention back to Dani for answers, his mind grasping at the motions he’d have to sign before putting to use the silent language he was only starting to grasp, only to find her previous spot at his side vacant. Erwin’s mind reeled for an explanation- some kind of context to frame the situation in which he found himself.

He had left his district with the Circle. Deciding to spend his summer among like-minded people to learn everything he could, and to find a sort of refuge that encouraged curiosity rather than stifle it. They were two days out, heading towards the Circle in the mountains for some form of festival to welcome in the new season, but not before they warned him of the danger that the wildlife would pose before fully committing to bring him along.

Is that what had everyone on edge? A bear? Maybe a mountain lion? Dani’s father, Chief chose this spot to camp for the night due to the safety it offered, having no signs of anything larger than mountain goats on the outcropping that had the mountain face protecting their backs. The last thing Erwin could recall was dozing off while listening to one of Chief’s stories about a little bear boy spirit returning to the sun after giving his brother new life. It all seemed peaceful- easy.

Now, it was too still; too dark as shadows eclipsed shapes and distorted forms to play tricks on the mind- a swaying shrub or a lurking predator? There was no breeze to stir the air that hanged heavy in humid anticipation.

A few meters to his right, a snapping twig accompanied the shifting undergrowth, causing him to press his body closer to the dirt floor, willing his lanky shape to blend into his surroundings as though it would be enough to hide him from whatever danger lurked along the camp’s edge. For a moment, the fear that managed to creep into his chest and burrow deep in his racing heart made him wish to be back in his own bed at the orphanage- there, at least, the only danger was prying eyes and ears, searching for any form of heresy. Here… here was unfamiliar, leaving him vulnerable and grasping in the actual and metaphorical dark for any thread of understanding. It was a reminder of his status as an outsider. He might’ve been welcomed along on this excursion, but there was a world between him and Dani’s relatives.

That understanding was suddenly underscored by a thrum of a bowstring and a hollow thud as the arrow found its target. The stillness dissolves into chaos as dozens more follow in the seconds after, accompanied by startled screams as shadows took down formless entities with quiet, ruthless efficiency.

Erwin noticed the hair on the back of his neck raise a fraction of a second too late and yelps as he found himself being yanked up to his feet by the back of his night shirt. The intruder’s grasp faltered a moment later, sending Erwin face first into the rocky dirt as the intruder stumbled. A metallic taste filled his mouth, but he paid no mind to the new taste as adrenalin kicked in, urging him back to his feet in time to see Dani dangling off a tall figure’s back. She slots an arm under the writhing figure’s chin in a vice-like hold while her free hand clawed around to where eyes should be. As her nails found their target, the figure bellowed out in rage before grabbing Dani by the arm that was wrapped around their throat to fling her to the ground in front of them.

Going to kick off a no-pressure tagging spree with this one! @topaz-carbuncle @askweisswolf @l3visthighs @sleepy-sham @killerpillar @nekht and anyone else that would like to join in!

[sttoru]

ima tell u this now : if u hate on x reader fics, block me cus by doing that you r doing us both a great favour 🤚🏽 ion need any of ur negativity on my blog because this is a safe space for people who do enjoy x reader fics goodbye

[czlowiek-lasu]

Big reckless yautja wife is back

[loonfull-sonnetzz]

Anyone who writes transmasc! Reader fanfics deserves a sweet kiss on the cheek

[strwbrryhtl]

Blessed are the Meek that Seek Absolution - Chapter 3

Claudia sat as her father huffed around their sitting room, his business partners all smoking cigars and drinking the whiskey her father had imported from Ireland once a month. She had heard the same story of men coming onto the boat they were playing poker on and stealing whatever they could at least ten times now. If hearing the same redundant story could make ears bleed, she figured her brains would’ve melted down the side of her face by now.

“Claudia, did you hear me?” Her fathers words snapped her out of her trance and she looked up from where here eyes had focused on her shoes and she looked at her father almost glass eyed.

“Sorry father, which part?” She mumbled and noticed how the men were all staring at her as Elizabeth came in to clear the whiskey glasses. Claudia wished in that moment she could leave the room as easily as Elizabeth could.

“I said I don’t want you going out, not while there’s trouble around.  Seriously, fifteen men boarding two ferry’s and clearing them in less than ten minutes!” William said and ran a hand over his face and Claudia could only stare down at her hands.

“I mean no one was hurt,” she mumbled and she could hear her father turn towards her. “It’s only money you lost, not like they robbed one of the banks where you have an account and drained it,” she said and looked at her father with wide eyes as he stalked closer to her.

“That money put you through one of the finest schools in New York, it puts this roof over your head and food in your belly. Without money you’d be like one of the drunks at the saloon, picking pockets or having to sell yourself to get by,” William said through gritted teeth as he took her chin roughly in his hand. “You will not go out, not alone anyways. You didn’t see those men and what they were capable of Claudia, last thing I need is you becoming some lowlifes’ meal ticket,” he said and pushed her back against the couch.

Claudia had never been so roughly handled by her father, even when her mother was alive. Her mother was the one to calm him down before he could reach this point, she always figured any of her fathers anger would eventually be taken out on her mother. Her hand cradled her chin and she stood quietly, her father already turning his attention back to his guests as she left the sitting room. Her eyes welled with tears that fell quietly as she went to the kitchen, sitting down at the small table and staring down at her hands.

“Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth turned and raised her eyebrow as Claudia stared at her hands and how she quickly wiped at her eyes. “Why are you sniffling?”

Claudia shook her head and looked at the older woman sadly, her eyes glazed over as tears slowly ran from the inner corners of her eyes and down over the curve of her lip. “Why does he hate me? What did I ever do to him?”

“Your father doesn’t hate you,” Elizabeth said and sat next to Claudia, the tumbler in her hand being abandoned at the kitchen sink. Elizabeth leaned her head down to Claudia and sucked her teeth, already noticing two visible fingerprints at the girl’s jaw. “He’s just a man.”

“He sent me to New York when mama died, not even two weeks after,” she mumbled as Elizabeth dried hopelessly at the steady stream of tears. “I didn’t get a chance to grieve, I was put into writing and reading classes and taught how to mend a quilt for the next six years of my life,” she mumbled and looked at the older woman sadly. “Do I remind him of her? Is that why he hates me?”

Elizabeth leaned back in her seat as Claudia’s lip shook harder and she watched the young girl put her hands over her mouth as she cried harder, her body shaking as she stayed quiet while sobs rocked into her core. Elizabeth had known Claudia’s mother, she was a saint, a woman that everyone adored and wanted to be. Claudia’s mother and Elizabeth had grown close during the time she was employed for her, and never once did she witness Claudia’s father act in any sort of malicious way. Any time her father would get drunk or the slightest overwhelmed, Claudia’s mother was there to calm the man down, bring him back to earth with her angel like demeanor. And as Claudia sat in front of her, shaking herself into hysterics, Elizabeth knew that Claudia lacked everything that made her mother her mother.

“Your father…and men in general, they want control, Claudia,” Elizabeth said and leaned towards her, pulling Claudias hands from her mouth and looking in her bloodshot eyes. “Your father couldn’t control your mother, she was too much of a kind spirit to be controlled. But I look at you and see your mother, with how you help people in town and how smart you are, spending all that free time of yours reading medical journals and what have you,” Elizabeth said quietly and carefully put her hand over Claudia’s cheek where her father had grabbed. “He’s too blind to see that you’re just like your mother because of his own grief. And some people get that way, and they change. Or they stay like your father and grow bitter with resentment and do what they must so they can stay in control.”

“I just don’t understand why though. In all my classes and all the reading, I never heard of a man act out against his daughter or wife.”

“Then you must have read some lovely fantasy, Claudia,” Elizabeth said and stroked her cheek, watching as Claudia moved her head into her hand. “Tomorrow we can go to town, alright? Go to see what they’re making at the seamstress and see if anything new has come into the general store.”

“But father said- “

“Your father said you can’t go out alone. I’ll be with you and it’ll be daylight out, highly doubt anyone is dumb enough to go and rob stores in a town like Blackwater during the day.” Elizabeth gave Claudia a smile and pat her cheek gently. “Go to bed, I’ll be up shortly once I’m done cleaning for these men.”

Claudia stood and wiped at her eyes, still looking down at her hands. “You promise I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“It’s not us who is wrong most of the time dear, it’s them,” Elizabeth said as she turned back to the kitchen sink full of whiskey tumblers and Claudia listened to the soft clinking of crystal on porcelain as she walked up the stairs.

As she readied for bed, she looked at the photograph on her nightstand of her and her mother when she was a little girl. She must’ve been seven or eight years old in the picture as she stood behind her mother who held her small hand that rested on her shoulder. Looking up into the mirror, Claudia saw so much of her mother in herself it hurt her heart that her mother couldn’t see who she had grown up to become. Elizabeth said that Claudia reminded her of her mother, but more than anything she would give away every piece of her fathers’ investments to hear those words come from her mother’s mouth.

She drifted off to sleep, the sounds of boots and deep voices on the porch being the last thing she heard for the night. As she woke the next morning, her back ached and she sat slowly, staring ahead at the window that overlooked the small harbor of Blackwater. She must’ve slept wrong, probably cried herself to sleep and didn’t realize it.

Rising from bed and putting on her dressing gown, Claudia immediately went to the medicine cupboard and began to rummage around, pulling out bandages and needles, empty tincture bottles and dried up herbs she remembered Elizabeth swearing up and down she had boiled down for medicine. But there were no full bottles of tincture, no tins of salve for her back and she sighed. The clock across the hallway read six, and Elizabeth didn’t wake until eight at the latest. Looking into the hallway and taking a deep breath, there was no smell of coffee brewing and no quite conversation of her father reading the headlines in the morning paper out to Elizabeth.

“Store is open at six thirty, takes me ten minutes to walk and five minutes to dress,” Claudia mumbled to herself as she hurried back to her room and sat down at her vanity. She pushed away her current knitting project, the scarf she started the day after she met that kind man at the general store and pulled at her box of hair supplies. Running the brush through her hair she mumbled to herself as she grabbed a ribbon out and quickly pulled her hair onto the top of her hair in a bun and tied it off. She kept mumbling how long it would take for her to get to the store and back to herself as she took off her sleeping gown and put on her undergarments and chemise. If she cared what she looked like at six in the morning she would’ve bothered with a corset. Her dress went on quickly and she pulled on a worn leather jacket, something Elizabeth said belonged to her mother and Claudia nuzzled her sore cheek into the shoulder as she put her boots on.

Looking back at the time, it was now six fifteen. Looking somewhat presentable in fifteen minutes was a new record for Claudia, not like she needed to brag about how long it took to dress. Peeking her head into the hallway, there was still no sign of morning activity and she quickly grabbed her satchel and went down the back stairs to the kitchen and slipped out the kitchen door. As she ran down the path towards town the last thing in her mind was why the door wasn’t locked when her father normally kept the key on his person at all times and locked every door before he went to bed.

By the time Claudia made it to the store, the clerk was turning over the open sign and he smiled as Claudia leaned against the post out front. “You’re here extra early Ms. DuPont,” he laughed and Claudia gave a weak smile before coughing into her hand. She was never one for running, always choosing to find some excuse in school as to why it would be too difficult for her.

“Need medicine, nothing special just for pain,” she finally was able to breathe out and followed the clerk inside and looked around the empty store. She noticed few people milling about out front but she stared at the white and brown spotted horse outside the window. “Who does that horse belong to?”

“Man staying at the saloon, they didn’t have any room in the stable for her so I let him leave her there until he can find a place for her,” the clerk said and Claudia heard him naming off brands of morphine and opium for her to try.

“Pretty horse,” she mumbled and looked at it through the mirror, smiling as it looked up at her and curled its lip up like it was smiling. “Did you catch the mans name?”

“Callahan,” the clerk said and watched Claudia come over, holding her hand out to sign the receipt for the medicine. “Think it was that fella you had put the violin strings on your tab,” he said and Claudia looked at him as she signed her fathers name.

“Oh, Mr. Callahan,” she said and felt her cheeks burn slightly. Hopefully she still looked tired from running down the hill. “Uhm…if you see him can you tell him I say hello? And hope his shoulder is healing,” Claudia said as she took the morphine and shoved it into her satchel.

“You can tell him, he’s walking toward the horse,” the clerk said and Claudia was embarrassed at how quickly her head turned to see the man walk towards the horse, a slight limp in his gait. She quickly thanked the clerk and went outside, leaning awkwardly against the post. “Hi, Arthur,” she said and smiled as Arthur pulled a brush out of his satchel. “I like your horse.”

“Oh, hello Miss DuPont,” he said and tipped his hat at her and smiled. “This is Boadicea,” he said and carefully ran the brush from the top of her head down her long slender neck. “What brings you to town so early?”

Claudia watched as he methodically brushed out the horse and she took a deep breath as she felt the pain from this morning creep into her back. “Oh uhm, needed some morphine,” she said and held her satchel up. “What’re you doing up so early?”

“Boadicea needs to walk around, might go do some hunting for the butcher and pick up some extra money,” Arthur said and looked over to Claudia. “Would you like a ride home?”

Claudia looked back to the hill where her house was and then back at Arthur, nodding slightly. “I’ve uhm…I only know how to ride side saddle though.”

“Oh there’s no need to worry about none of that side saddle stuff, Boadicea won’t buck you or nothing,” Arthur chuckled and quickly put the brush away before fishing an apple out of his satchel and letting Boadicea munch on it lazily before he mounted her. “Give me your hand.”

Claudia took a deep breath and looked down at herself before walking over to Arthur and grabbing his outstretched hand. She yelped in slight surprise as he easily lifted her off the ground and helped situate her behind him. “You do that a lot?”

“I’ve got practice,” Arthur chuckled as Claudia held onto his arm and mumbled to herself as she got comfortable on the horses rear. “Used to have another lady ride with me, but she would have put up a bit more of a fight about getting on.”

Claudia huffed and held onto Arthur as she pushed herself closer to him so she wouldn’t fall off. “Sounds like a smart woman.”

“Debatable,” Arthur mumbled under his breath and glanced back as Claudia looked around at the waking countryside. “You okay there Miss DuPont?”

“Yes,” she said and took a deep breath and looked at him, smiling slightly. “How is your shoulder? You pulled me up with your hurt arm.”

“Oh it’s better, nothing those stitches and a couple days rest couldn’t fix,” Arthur shrugged and focused back on the route ahead of them. Arthur kept his eyes on the road but he could still feel Claudia’s eyes on him, wet like peaches as he felt her breath on his neck and looking at the potential bruise that along the back of his spine.

As they approached the DuPont home, Claudia felt her own spine stiffen more than it already was as she saw her father standing on the porch, his pistol in hand. “Shit,” she mumbled under her breath and grabbed Arthur’s arm tightly. “That’s my father, he’s going to kill me.”

“Oh come on why would your father – “

“Claudia DuPont you get your ass here right this instant! Sneaking out of the god damn house at the crack of dawn!” Her father shouted and aimed the pistol at Arthur who immediately held his hands up as Claudia fell to the ground awkwardly from the panic. “Who the hell are you?!”

“Arthur Callahan sir, just bringing the young lady home,” Arthur said as Claudia stepped away from Boadicea who stomped her foot into the ground. “She was at the general store buying some medicine.”

“Claudia?” Her father shouted, eyes still on Arthur as Claudia opened up her satchel and with trembling hands held up the two bottles she purchased. “Why the hell did you leave?”

“M-my back hurt,” she squeaked out and glanced at Arthur who kept his eyes on her father. “You can talk to Mr. Garrison down at the general store, he can tell you I’m not lying!”

“Mr. DuPont, it’s just some medicine,” Arthur chuckled and watched as William waved her inside, his hand pushing at her back roughly before closing the door behind him. Arthur felt his hand form into a slight fist as he lowered his arms.

William lowered his gun slowly, his eyes trained on Arthur who rubbed along the side of Boadicea’s head. “Why should I believe the word of some…drifter?”

“Well the people at the saloon, and the jail, and the general store, and about every other store in town can tell you that I’m an honest man,” he said and walked towards her father slowly. “I’m just passing through, doing odd jobs until I can get some steady income.”

“And how long have you been doing that in Blackwater?” William was feeling rightly paranoid after what had happened on the ferry, and though Arthur didn’t appear to be like the kind of person who would rob a ferry, he couldn’t trust anyone he didn’t know at the moment.

“Couple weeks. Was traveling from up north and found myself injured,” Arthur said as he stood at the bottom step of the porch. He glanced towards the window and saw four eyes peeing from behind the lace curtains of the sitting room, two heads moving frantically as they looked between the other. “Really sir if you don’t believe me you can talk to the manager at the saloon, I’ve rented a room there for the time being.”

William watched Arthur, his hand stroking his chin slightly. “Why’d you bring up the jail then?”

“Noticed some bounties were posted outside when I was walking by and looking for available rooms,” Arthur shrugged. “I can handle a gun, mostly for protection,” he said and looked down as William tucked the pistol into his belt. Arthur figured a man that rich had no idea how to use such a small handgun, the thing might not have even been loaded.

“Well excuse me for my…outburst but if you’ve been around town you might have heard of some of the problems that have occurred recently. People being robbed and some of the coaches coming in with hurt drivers, that sort of thing,” William said and glanced back towards the window and let out a breath as the curtains quickly shut. “Claudia and our maid, I just need to keep them safe.”

“Understand sir, your daughter though was just getting medicine – “

“And how is it you know my daughter?”

Arthur stood up slightly and rubbed at his hurt shoulder, wincing to himself. “I was uh, I was at the general store and she offered me some free medical advice,” he chuckled.

William rolled his eyes and just nodded. “Sounds like my Claudia, putting her nose where it doesn’t need to be. I’m sorry if she bothered you or told you something wrong, but you – “

“Actually she was able to help me a hell of a lot more than the doctor did,” Arthur said and smiled, putting one foot on the first step of the porch and watching William. “Kind girl, your daughter.”

William bit the inside of his cheek and nodded, stepping back towards the house. “Well thank you for bringing her home…I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name so I can make sure you’re not some thug with the sheriff.”

Arthur took another step up the porch and smiled smugly at William, his eyes studying the face of the rich man and he could only see layers of hidden greed and power hungriness. He had seen that face plenty in his life already.

“Arthur Callahan. And you, you’re William DuPont, correct? The lumber king of these parts?”

William stared at the younger man who slowly inched his way up the porch and froze in his place. “Someone in town call me that?”

“Only a few, when I asked who the kind girl was who helped me,” Arthur said and turned as Boadicea began to stomp at the ground. “It was nice meeting you, hope your daughter feels better,” Arthur said and backed away from the house and mounted Boadicea quickly. He could see the curtains were pulled again and he tipped his hat to Claudia who watched from the sitting room as he rode away.

The front door opened and slammed quickly and she turned to see her father pushing the deadbolt into place. “The nerve of that man I mean really!”

“What did he do, father?”

William huffed as he took the pistol and slammed it down into the side table drawer before looking at Claudia. “You better hope that he is who he says he is, Claudia.”

She stared at him in confusion as he mumbled his way into the kitchen, pushing past a confused Elizabeth who held a tea cup for Claudia. “Mixed the medicine into your tea…what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, but if that Arthur fellow can get father worked up like this I might want to see him again soon,” she said quietly and drank her tea, feeling an almost instant relief from the medicine.

Tag List:

@photo1030 @lunawolfclaw @rivetingrosie4

AO3 Link

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones XXXII

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Author’s Note:  Thank you for reading <3 I hope you enjoy this next chapter and where the story is going :)

shoutout to @divinerivals for being on this journey with me <3

tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @rosewood-cafe / @vanserrass / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @positivewitch / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @rainbowsnowflake / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens

Find it all here.

A day passed, then two more, and the end of the week found them quicker than they expected, husband and wife wrapped in a lavender haze.

Eris woke up each day with the sole purpose of claiming his wife and Iris sank into the intensity of his frenzy. She met every part of his needs and his desires with her own, knowing how much he needed it. Knowing how much she had craved it. 

And while Iris tried to have Eris keep it in their bedroom, she found that any moment the two of them were alone, regardless of location, they would be skin on skin within seconds. 

What Eris had a hard time saying with words, he had no issues saying with his body and Iris experienced a side of him that she’d only seen in fleeting moments, when he allowed his seducing to emerge. And seduce her he did; her husband was downright filthy with her and Iris was going through the type of pleasure she had only read about. 

She had expected to be sore. She had expected to be shy about the highly erotic things her husband had promised her but it took all of one look and whatever sense of modesty Iris may have had vanished when Eris had his hands on her. She loved that he was slowly becoming more demanding with her. It made her crave it more. 

They were currently in his study and Eris had just straightened from where he had been on his knees feasting on her, before flipping her over and lifting her dress. Iris looked over her bare shoulder and bit her lip at the sight of him behind her; his shirt was loose and his skin was as flushed as she was. When he met her gaze with a smirk, Iris couldn’t help but buck backward into him, his chuckle skating across her skin and she had to swallow hard as he kneaded her backside. He hadn’t even bothered to fully remove her dress when he demanded she lay against his desk and spread her legs for him; he only pulled it down her shoulders, exposing her breasts, and now lifted it to expose her very needy cunt to his antics. 

Iris had found that in the last few days, she liked being a good wife who listened, especially when her husband had his cock fisted in his hand and was now rubbing it against her throbbing clit.  

“I - I thought you had a meeting.” she breathed and arched into him again. 

“I do. But my cock is going to meet with your pretty cunt first. It missed you too much.”

“Eris, you – oh.” 

The tip of his cock was now toying at her entrance and Iris tried not to pant as he teased her, rubbing agonizingly slow. He leaned against her, barricading her to his desk, and nipped at her ear.

“You were saying?” he taunted.

“You’re insatiable.” she whispered but couldn’t help rocking back into him.

“I know and I’m only going to get so much worse,” he said. “Especially when I come inside you and have you walking around with it dripping down your legs.” 

A breath stuttered out of her as she flushed. “That – I won’t –”

His hand ever so gently gripped her hair and Eris pulled her head back, their lips a breath apart. He took in her flushed face, how her eyes were glazed over, and tightened his grip just so. He saw the way her eyes had flashed the first time he’d done it. More importantly, he’d felt how her cunt had tightened around him and that was a sure sign he’d be wrapping his hand around her hair more often. Eris would work his way up to getting rough with her; he knew she’d like it even if she was still embarrassed about it right now. 

Since that night they’d finally become one, Eris had been unable to stop himself from being all over her. If he thought he was touch-obsessed before, he was downright insane now that she’d allowed him the privilege of intimacy. The frenzy had hit him hard and only because he prided himself on being someone in charge of his emotions did he manage to keep some sort of restraint on himself in public settings. But once they were alone? He watched her every breath. Her every movement as they dived into each other day in and day out. He touched her in ways he’d been dreaming about.

And when she looked like this, undone, flushed, so artfully exposed like this, what was a husband to do?

“I don’t want to hear the word won’t from you.” he commanded quietly. “I already told you how often I will keep you filled up, wife. You should get used to my come dripping down your legs.”

She whimpered and Eris couldn’t help but kiss her fiercely with a growl, his tongue meeting hers in time with his hard thrust into her. He filled her to the hilt and held, relishing in the way she contracted around his cock and he pushed against her again, her firm ass snug against him. It had only been a few days of this bliss and Eris knew he would never be the same – nothing would ever feel like this. This right. 

He swallowed her moan before he released her lips and pulled out to the tip before rocking into her with another hard thrust and Eris had to restrain himself from coming undone as she tightened around him; the sound of her breathless whine would be his undoing. 

“You make such pretty noises, little gazelle,” he whispered in her ear, rolling his hips and delighting in the way she rocked back to meet his movements. “I’ve only claimed your cunt for a few days and all those pretty little sounds you make whenever I touch it are going to drive me crazy.”  He pulled out an inch to thrust into her again and held. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“Always,” was her breathless reply, her walls clenching around his cock. “It only seems f-fair.”

Eris hummed, his grip tightening on her hair once more to pull her back just enough to leave a chaste kiss on her lips. “Am I driving you crazy? Is that why you want revenge?” he whispered and Iris clenched around him again, a stuttered breath slipping out of her lips.

“You’re driving me crazy right now,” she whined and bucked back against him. “How long are you going to keep me waiting for you to fuck me, husband?”

Eris’s smirk was filled with feral delight as he released her hair, his hand sliding to an exposed breast and he slapped it quickly before squeezing, Iris’s choked cry as enticing as ever. “However long it’ll take you to say please, wife.”

“You’re going to have your mate b-beg?” she asked and very nearly did beg, trying and failing not to roll her hips for some relief. 

“I have to teach you manners somehow.” he teased and thrust into her, rocking her into the desk. “Say please, wife.” 

“Eris –”

“That doesn’t sound like please.”

“I thought you liked your name coming out of my mouth.” she said and rolled her hips again as he squeezed her breast once more. 

“Oh, I do. I’ll like it even more when you’re saying it while my come drips out of your mouth,” he said, leaning in to kiss her shoulder as Iris’s eyes squeezed shut, the words making her flush deeply. “Now say please so I can fuck you like I know you want me to, Iris, or I start pulling out.”

“You’d only be punishing yourself if you pulled away now,” she said and didn’t even know why she was arguing with him. She wanted him to fuck her so desperately, she knew he could sense it. But in the way she couldn’t help teasing him on a daily basis, Iris couldn’t help but keep with tradition.  

Eris’s dark chuckle had her tightening around his cock again and Iris felt the slickness of their joining as he bent her a little further with his chest against her back. “There are other places I can come but it’ll leave your pretty pussy empty and I don’t think you want that, do you?” he mused and nipped at her ear. “Say please.”

Iris couldn’t help the needy moan that slipped from her mouth, arching back into him. “Y-you’ve only started having me like this and already being so pushy.” she groaned. “And so d-dirty.”

A grin couldn’t help from spreading on his face as Iris made a noise of protest when he indeed started pulling out slowly. “You were so shy a few days ago and now look at you, spread like this and worried about me being dirty,” he said, teasing her entrance with his tip once more. “If only you could see your dripping cunt, you’d think you wouldn’t be so reluctant to ask nicely. Say please or I will tie you to my desk and leave you like this until I’m done with my meeting.”

The image he presented had Iris biting her lip hard, her core pulsing in desire. She wanted to be embarrassed by how wanton she felt, especially when the idea only seemed to turn her on and as she tried to arch further into him, she knew as tempting as the idea of him experimenting with tying her up, Iris needed him now.

“Please.” she caved and she felt his smile against her skin as he kissed her shoulder again.

“Say pretty please.”

“Eris.”

“Pretty please, handsome husband of mine.” he only said.

“That’s not –”

“You’re running out of time.” 

And when he did lean back as if to leave her, Iris couldn’t stop herself from saying exactly what he wanted from her in one quick breath, “Pretty please, handsome husband of mine.”

Before Iris could take her next breath, Eris had sheathed himself into her with a hard thrust, pressing her down onto the desk and she couldn’t help the choked moan that escaped her. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praised and Iris whimpered as he smacked her ass. “See? Now, how could I deny such a request?”

He wrapped her hair in his fist once more, pulling her head back to give her another soft kiss then released her to grip her hips and began to fuck her in earnest. The sound of skin slapping against skin quickly filled his study and in a very concerningly disturbing way, the scent of their sex overwhelming the room spurred him on. Iris took his cock, squeezing it perfectly as he fucked her, drilling into her. The same thoughts that had swirled in his brain whenever he was inside her returned in full force and Eris wanted to imprint himself on her soul, her body to memorize his, and again, he knew sex would never feel better than this. 

His hand slid to push her down a little more, arching her body exactly how he wanted it as he pounded in her, and Eris couldn't help himself from letting that same hand slide down to knead the flesh of her backside, blotched red from his earlier teasing. He’d work her up to take more. He had so many ideas for her. So many ways he wanted to have her and so many things he wanted to do to her and have her do to him. He wanted to fill her in every way, and even though Iris was his, Eris’s need to claim her in every way he could wouldn’t go away.

He was a male possessed, entrapped, and enthralled by everything that she was, and when she shifted beneath him to meet his thrusts and look over her shoulder at him, the desperation in him intensified. 

“My hand –” he grunted, the pace of his fucking brutal and intensifying as he watched her breasts bounce with the movement. “Take my hand – on your throat. I want to hold it.”

“Yes –” she cried, panting as her pleasure built. Iris had lost count of how many times he’d made her come since they’d been intimate the first time but she was a woman addicted and while the idea of his hand around her throat had been something she’d hesitated about once upon a time, she wanted it now – now as he fucked her like she was made only for this – like she was made only for his hands and Iris wanted his hands all over her. 

Her hand met his as he reached for her and Iris clutched his hand as it wrapped around her delicate throat, pulling her up against him. The angle had him thrusting deeper into her and again, the timing of his thrusts seemed to match her whimpers. Her husband took her hard and his grip on her throat tightened just slightly, her hand still gripping his.

“I’m – close.” she breathed and Eris’s growl in her ear made her eyes roll back, her legs starting to shake. 

“Who does your cunt belong to?” he demanded, his voice guttural.

“You.” she panted and tightened her walls around him, her fingers digging into the hand at her throat. “And your cock – who does it belong to?”

“It’s yours, wife. Only yours and it’ll fuck you until the day I perish.” he promised and shifted, slamming into her at a particular angle that had her seeing stars. Her breathing became heavy pants and when his free hand slid to her breast and pinched, Iris’s whole body shuddered, a cry sounding as her orgasm crashed through her. 

Eris held her through it and despite his rough thrusts, his thumb was gentle as it caressed her neck. He allowed himself to pull her head back for one more kiss and then with a firm hand, pushed her flat on the desk to arch her body once more, chasing his release. Her body was loose and welcoming as his cock drilled into her and her quiet mewls edged him on. He was close. He only needed – 

“Eris.” she sighed and the sound of his name slipping from her lips in such a way was what finally sent him over the edge. He came with a growl, spilling himself inside her with one final thrust and Eris had to grip the edge of his desk so he didn’t crush her beneath him. 

The room was silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing and as Iris shifted beneath him, his hips still rocking into her slowly, it took him a few moments before he pulled out of her with a wet sound. He licked his lips, watching as his come dripped from his cock and out of her glistening cunt. 

“When is this going to calm down?” Iris asked breathlessly, straightening shakily, even as Eris couldn’t help but rub the tip of his cock into her again. Iris arched slightly, sucking in a breath, her body rolling her hips on its own accord. “We just finished and I know if we didn’t control ourselves, we’d go again.” 

“The frenzy wins another round.” he mused and finally, with much effort he forced himself to take a step away from her, forced himself to take a breath, and started cleaning them both up. They didn’t speak as Eris pulled her up and began to fix her dress, his touch gentle and Iris couldn't help but bite the inside of her cheek, slightly embarrassed as she watched him. He knew how to turn her on to the point where she’d likely let him do anything but when the moment calmed, she always felt embarrassment creep up on her for being so…lustful. 

And while she liked the very sensual side he’d been showing her the past few days, Iris would always find herself deeply attached to this attentive one. 

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, tugging the shoulder of her sleeves in place. “I didn’t –”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

He focused on fixing her hair in place, his gaze flickering to her once then away. “Even when I held your throat? It didn’t bother you.”

“Did it sound like it bothered me?” she asked and Iris felt her heart nearly burst when he pursed his lips in response. 

“I don’t want to take you by surprise or do anything you won’t want,” he said, his tone soft. “I get carried away in the moment.” 

“And yet, you still gave me a warning. I liked having my hand with yours. I liked it a lot.” Iris answered and bit her lip when the corner of his mouth twitched up. She had clearly liked his hand on her throat a little too much and Iris’s eyes were locked on him as he gently shifted her to straighten the dress. The way he cared for her after their intimacy made her heart want to burst out of her chest. In contradiction to his behavior while they were being intimate, he was so careful – tender afterward. It almost embarrassed Iris more than how wanton she was during the act itself. 

“Thank you.” she said and the corner of Eris’s mouth lifted at her soft tone.

“Are you embarrassed again?”

“No.”

“Liar, you answered too quickly,” he said, giving her too knowing of a look. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I know I don’t,” Iris said, a light blush coloring her cheeks. “But you’re used to engaging in all this and for me it’s all so…”

“Sinful? Obscene? Scandalous?” he teased and Iris rolled her eyes.

“New. And it's happening so fast,” she answered. “And you always make me feel so…untethered.” 

Eris watched her with a small smug smile and he was not a male who used the word cute but his wife was sure being cute as fuck. It thrilled him endlessly that he was the one to corrupt her. “Untethered because I make you feel so good you forget all about your modesty nonsense?” he taunted playfully. 

Iris swatted him lightly. “What I’m trying to say, asshole, is…it scares me a little bit how quickly I can sink into this with you and be so taken.” she said and glanced away for a moment then looked at him beneath her lashes as she added quietly, “I know the bond influences the…intensity of it all but when we come back to reality, I’m a little embarrassed that I would let you touch me the way you do.”

Eris’s grin was roguish and Iris pointed a finger at him.

“Don’t you dare make fun of me.” she warned. 

“Make fun? How could I when you’re complimenting me?” he said with a wink, a hand reaching to smooth down her hair. His lips twitched when she narrowed her eyes at him and Eris, leaned in to leave a featherlike kiss on the corner of her mouth continuing quietly, “I understand the privilege it is that I get your firsts. I want it to feel good. I want you to enjoy it.”

“It – it feels great,” she said quietly, the color in her cheeks deepening. “But the way I get so wrapped up in you…overwhelms me.”

Eris felt his heart leap to his throat and he tried not to let himself get too excited at her words. He hated that she was embarrassed but he understood. He was the first and only person to ever get this side of her. He would cherish it. And continue to defile her. 

“For the record…it has never felt this way with anyone else,” he confessed, his eyes on the sliver of collarbone peeking from her dress. “It overwhelms me too.” 

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yes. So overwhelmed that I can’t help but seduce you on the spot, depraved as I am.” he said, his smirk full of wickedness and Iris had to fight back a smile.  

“Well…” she began and glanced away from him, flushing as she admitted, "You make me want to be depraved with you. So.”

Eris’s face broke out in a wide grin. “That is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“Of course you’d say that,” Iris said with a snort. “Should I be thanking you for your corruption?”

“Naturally. You can thank me with words or actions, the choice is yours.” He said with a heated gaze. “We can get right back to debauchery as soon as you’d like.”

Iris’s cheeks heated at the promise. “Scoundrel.” 

“Still your husband.” 

“And a little more than that, hm?” 

Eris licked his lips and forced himself to close his eyes and take a deep breath, especially as she giggled at his reaction. He’d just fucked her and her giggle would be what does him in. Who was he becoming?

Shaking his head, his smoldering look was a warning as he turned and adjusted his own clothing then ran a hand through his hair. He made to turn but Iris had come behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, her face settling in the middle of his back. 

“Wife?” he asked tentatively as he rested a hand over the one she had slid up his chest. 

“The closer this ball comes, the less I want to leave,” she said quietly. “Do I really have to?”

He sighed. They’d had this conversation thrice already and each time Iris thought she came closer to wearing him down, he’d stand his ground. 

Eris turned and faced her, his expression already set in a scowl, even as she stood with her arms around him, her chin resting on his chest. “You already know the answer is yes, you have to. It’ll be safer,” he said. “Lucien has already sent word that everything is getting in order on his end.”

“Helene is settled in?” Iris asked and when aimed to step back, Eris’s grip only tightened around her. 

“Yes.” he said, his hands tracing her arms still around his waist. “And Helion is preparing for the backlash of my father. In the event it’s needed.”

Iris’s expression immediately dimmed. “And you and your brothers?”

Eris nodded. “Getting there. I’m seeing Izak later to get an update,” he said. “Will you be alright if I’m running late?”

“As long as you don’t take too long. I’ll start to worry,” she said with a small frown. “I’ll be reviewing notes from Nevien so you don’t have to worry about me.”

Eris hummed then cupped her face, forcing her to look up at him. “Regardless. Two of the hounds will be in the room with you.”

“You better have one with you as well.” 

He chuckled. “Of course. Antares will be with me since Lyra has officially declared herself glued to you.”

“I can’t help it if the puppies love me so much,” she said with a smile and Eris rolled his eyes.

“That’s only because you bribe them.”

“With hugs and kisses.”

“With more snacks than they should be eating.” he corrected with a snort. “And I give them hugs. You’ve been spoiling them ridiculously and now they’ll never listen to me the way they used to.”

Iris laughed softly and the corner of his mouth lifted. “Aw, someone sounds jealous.” she teased and patted his chest when he rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to them for you. Convince them to give you another chance.”

“Alright now.”

“All children have off days with their fathers. They still love you, don’t worry.”

“Enough from you.” he finally said, though there was no real heat in his words. He was as much of a lovesick puppy as his hounds were. Apparently, they had been sucked into her orbit even quicker than he was…when he thought about how quickly they accepted her, he supposed it made sense. 

He couldn’t wait for her to see his other hounds come out to play. That would be a surprise for another time.

With a small smile, Iris pulled away from him and quickly ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it down. “Are you ready for us to walk back?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. He’d had to shield her scent everywhere they went and shield his own whenever they were apart. Despite how they danced around his father’s goings and comings, it was as if his father’s leash had tightened on them and the High Lord seemed to sense something was different. 

Even seeing his mother had gotten harder with his father keeping her…busy. His mother refused to even acknowledge it was happening, claiming she was used to pretending but Eris had to walk away each time, trying his best not to set the room on fire. He forced himself not to dwell on it and focused on preparation. They’d endured long enough. They would have to endure a little more.

His body grew more and more tense as each day passed, the countdown to the ball ticking away. He wanted to feel guilty for the way he consumed his wife but this release, these moments where it was just the two of them – whether it was talking or touching, it soothed his weary spirit to the bones. The bond chafed at them both with the only thing left was for Iris to offer him food and they kept skirting around it. It was something Eris truly wanted to wait for – he refused to celebrate this until he actually had the chance to celebrate her. He wanted it to be something to look forward to.

So, he continued to watch her and touch her like a depraved beast, craving even the smallest of glances from her. 

The day he started teaching her how to dance made him realize exactly how in control of him she was. And Eris knew she had no idea the extent of this control on him. No idea the kind of chaos she caused inside him when she almost tripped and laughed it off as he taught her the steps to the Autumn Court’s signature waltz. 

But he’d hold her waist, correcting her stance and she’d smile up at him, the smile turning into a coy little smirk the longer he stared at her and suddenly everything was right in the world for those few minutes. 

Eris went through the wringer with his fucken feelings. Somehow, he felt the bliss of being near her, then the guilt for keeping her there, the anxiety about what was to come and how it would end, and then the frenzy would hit him at the most inconvenient of times…he was hanging on by a fucken thread.

And the cycle repeated itself as each day passed.

When the middle of week two trickled in, the High Lord sent for his sons. 

There was an ominous feeling in the air as Eris made his way to his father’s study. He had just finished meeting with his sentries, finalizing stations for the perimeter of the ball when he received word of his father’s request. Whenever his father summoned all his sons, it surely spelled trouble and Eris didn’t like it one bit.  

When he found his brothers by the entryway, awaiting his arrival, he tried not to take their expressions as a bad omen. 

“Do we know why he called us here?” Emil said quietly but Eris shook his head, tension lining his back.

“He only said he had some sort of announcement,” he replied and had to roll his shoulders back before sharing a look with all his brothers. “Watch your reactions.”

They filed in behind him and Eris paused a few feet away from where his father stood in the middle of the room. Eris kept his stance as casual as possible, his brothers lined next to him. His expression neutralized, clasping his hands behind his back and he forced himself to bow his head slightly to his father, his brothers following. “You called, Father?”

Beron stood with his back to them and Eris looked around the study in distaste; given the pleasant memories in this place, he hated it almost as much as he hated the throne room. His fists clenched as the High Lord dropped the reports he had been holding on the desk and turned.

“Your mother’s ideas for the ball seem tackier than usual this year.” Beron mused by way of greeting. “I hope the rest of whatever she’s planned won’t be as tasteless.”

Eris resisted the urge to roll his eyes but Finn had no such reservations and Beron lifted a brow, glancing at his secondborn. 

“Do you have something to say, boy?”

“No, Father.”

“Good. I do hate it when you speak.” 

Eris could feel the heat from Finn’s body and hoped his brother wouldn’t open his mouth and say anything else. Given how often Beron’s hands found Finn, his brother held the least tolerance from their father and it didn’t go unnoticed. 

But none of them said anything as Beron took a step towards Izak, looking him up and down with contempt. “Izak. You haven’t graced us with your presence in a moment.”

“I am here whenever you call me, father.” 

Beron hummed. “You look like a barbarian. Before the event, shave your disgusting beard,” he said and waved a hand. “I can’t have you looking like a beast with a room full of your potential brides in attendance.”

A tense breath of silence and Eris tilted his head in confusion as Izak snapped a little too sharply, “Potential what?”

Beron’s eyes narrowed slightly at his tone and Eris cleared his throat to divert the attention.

“It seems you have something to share, Father.”

It took a moment before the High Lord looked away from Izak and addressed them all. “Yes. I called you all here because I decided it’s time to have you all settled down,” he said and collectively the brother’s brows went up. Beron’s gaze flickered to Eris. “I made the mistake of letting you get away with being unwedded for too long and then not enough time vetting your troublesome wife. I won’t make that error with the rest of you.” 

Eris had to take a breath through his nose to hold himself back from snapping. “My wife isn’t nearly as troublesome as her father is and yet you chose to tie our families together.”

“Her father’s wealth and accessibility is the only reason your marriage was of value,” Beron said with a snort. “But she holds no value.” And Beron seemed to watch Eris, daring him to say something more as a muscle feathered in his jaw. “This time around, it’ll be more about what each female brings to the union. I can’t allow the rest of your brothers to breed with useless ones.”

“My wife is not useless.” Eris nearly spat and the corner of Beron’s mouth lifted cruelly.

“Her being fuckable isn’t an asset. It’s her only job.” Beron mocked and Eris’s jaw clenched so hard, it was a miracle he didn’t crack it. “Don’t say another word or I’ll make you regret it.”

A tense moment stretched between them as Eris’s expression hardened and his magic thumped beneath his veins, so desperate to dig into his father but he forced himself to take a deep breath through his nose; soon enough, the bastard would get what he deserved. 

Emil cleared his throat, glancing at Eris for a fleeting second then back to their father. “Forgive me Father but, if I am to understand correctly,'' he started and shifted. “You are…suggesting we all get married.”

“It’s not a suggestion. By the end of this year, you three will be engaged to a female of my choosing from a respectable family. Families with females we can benefit from.” The High Lord said, giving Eris a pointed look that he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes at. “By Spring, your wedding ceremonies will be taking place. Depending on whose daughters I decide on and if she’s worth her own wedding, we’ll see whether it’ll be one big family wedding to get it done or scattered monthly.” 

His sons stared at him in stunned silence but Eris’s brows lowered. Why was his father doing this now?

“You will clean yourselves up and mingle at the ball. I expect you to be on your best behavior and woo each of them. Should I deem it unfit, there will be time to find you another female worthy of being a Vanserra.”

“Just like that?” Finn said with a snort. “If you deem them unfit, you’ll just find another one at the drop of a hat?”

“You’ll find that there are many females who would be delighted to be a bride for a prince,” Beron said and his expression hardened when he looked at Finn. “You’ll make it work with whomever I choose and if you don’t like her, you can always pretend she’s someone else while she’s sucking your cock. A mouth is a mouth, isn’t it?”

Finn flushed and Eris shot his brother a warning look as his hands fisted at his sides. 

“Father.” Eris said lightly.

“Yes?” Beron said, turning to Eris with a pleasant tone that did not match his expression. “Am I wrong? If he doesn’t like her, he can choose another or be content with flipping her over and fucking her from behind without even having to look at her face. A hole is a hole, is it not?”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” Finn snarled and Beron’s hand snapped out faster than any of them could stop it, backhanding Finn hard enough he staggered back a few steps.

“When will you learn not to speak? I am sick of you.” Beron said, his voice deadly quiet. “Do as you are told and save me your objections that I do not care for.” 

“Father,” Eris interjected but Beron held up a hand, his mouth curled in anger.

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“But –”

“I said I don’t want to hear it.” the High Lord snapped and the room heated as he glared at Eris. 

Eris didn’t flinch at the look, blood pumping in his ears but he’d rather his father glared at him than back at his brothers. He could sense their anger bubbling and knew this little surprise was snipping at their pride when they were all in committed relationships. At least his father didn’t know about that. 

“But Finn isn’t the only one who has a problem with this,” Izak stated and Eris finally looked away from his father to his brother, finding his expression dark. “I don’t want to get married.” 

Beron’s expression shifted to mock amusement. “Is that so?”

“I don’t care for the females in the court.” Izak continued. “All they’re interested in is my money and gossiping. It’ll be a nightmare.”

“Your money?” Beron said with a snort. “You have nothing to your name. My money is the only reason any female would be tempted enough to marry someone as stupid as you.” 

“I’m not stupid,” Izak growled, his face heated. “I’m a General of your armies.” 

“Brute with no brain. Don’t forget that you’re my wild dog who was trained to fight and nothing more.” Beron cooed sarcastically, waving a hand as Izak’s eyes flashed. “You can save any objections you have alongside your brothers. You don’t have a choice.” 

“What are you going to do, tie us to a bed and force us to get married?” Finn sneered. 

“Maybe I will have you tied down like a prized mare and let your wife fuck you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Enough of your loaded comments, Father. Tell me what you —” 

Eris tried to shield Finn but Beron’s fist connected with Finn’s nose faster than Eris could move and Finn’s head snapped back as blood came gushing out. His brother let out a choked laugh.

“Father, I think we all need to calm down,” Eris said, stepping between the two of them, and holding out both hands to Beron. “You’ve taken them by surprise. This reaction shouldn’t shock you.”

“I don’t care. I have a whole court that bends to my will and suddenly you four think you have opinions and choices? You will all do as you are told.” Beron snapped then glared at Emil. “I haven’t heard from you yet, quiet one. Do you have anything else to add?”

“I do despite knowing you don’t care for my opinion,” Emil said coolly. “You can’t be surprised that we have reservations about this, Father. This arranged marriage situation doesn’t work for everyone and the idea that the three of us have to do this has emerged from nowhere. What is the reasoning for it now?”

Beron looked down at his son, his lips curling. The High Lord didn’t have to open his mouth to demean them; his expression alone did it. “It’s the way you think I have to explain myself to you,” Beron said with a snort. “An order is an order.” 

“Who else do you –” Finn began angrily, holding a cloth to his bloody nose but Eris shot him a look that quickly shut him up; he was still standing between Finn and his father. With the way Beron glared at them both, the High Lord was not liking it. 

“You owe us that much if you’re going to whore us out for brides.” Izak spat and Beron shot him a withering glare.

“I owe you nothing but since you barely have a brain, let me spell it out for you.” Beron seethed and Izak flushed deeply. “We need heirs, you idiot. Long-term connections with powerful families. The Vanserra line needs to be kept strong.” The High Lord glared at each of his sons. “Other courts have begun securing their lines and building connections within the strongest families in and outside of their regions. I will not be upstaged by them when I have so many of you for this exact purpose.” He spat. “Despite you all trying and failing to weed each other out, I’ve accepted that you four have somehow remained and I will use you how I see fit. Your lives are for my court and my throne and I will not have my line die out because you don’t know what’s good for you.” Straightening, his glare intensified. “You will meet those potential brides and you will woo them at this fucken ball or so help me, the only information you will get about your wedding is a date and I will have you tied to a flagpole until it’s done.” 

The room was deadly silent as they processed what he said and Finn’s heavy breathing was the only sound as Izak glared and Emil’s expression was tight. It didn’t matter that their little game of being at each other’s throats was his fault and it mattered even less that their father had such little interest in their lives; they were things – objects made to be used as he wished. It was all the same with the High Lord; do what you’re told or you won’t be able to oppose for long once he’s decided to make you.

But it wouldn’t be this way for long. Soon. Soon.

Eris worked his jaw and turned to his brothers, meeting each of their eyes before slowly saying, “Father has our best interest at heart,” he started. “There’s no harm in getting to know the options of females. He will choose only the best for you. Let’s all calm down.” 

Collectively, the brothers’ expressions flattened and Eris knew they’d chew him out for this later but they were too close, too close to the end. This was a petty thing, they could tolerate this. He was already on edge himself and if they couldn’t leash themselves, they’d be in worse trouble.

“I think we all would’ve appreciated a little more time to process this, Father,” Emil said, clasping one hand over the other in front of him. “This feels very short notice.”

“You’ll survive.” Beron merely said. “They’ll be presented to you on a silver platter and if you’re discrete, it shouldn’t impact your dalliances outside of it.” He glanced at them with a pointed look that none of them appreciated, “I made sure they’re all attractive. You’ll be tempted enough.” 

“I bet you were.” Izak muttered and Eris flashed him a look of warning but Beron smiled.

“You’re right, I was.” the High Lord mused with that nasty smile. “So if I was tempted, you’ll find them all agreeable.” He waved a hand at Eris. “Take your brother. He didn’t even care when I told him to marry Iris and now look at them. She was pretty when I chose her and she certainly seems tolerable enough to take care of his needs, doesn't she?”

Eris’s expression blanked, his hands fisting at his sides. “I’d rather not discuss my wife.”

Beron snorted. “Your wife is the reason I had to be pickier about who the rest of your brothers will wed. I can’t have them as controlled by their females as you are by yours.” He shot Eris a look full of disgust. “No matter how pretty her cunt is.” 

Eris nearly detonated, his fists clenching so hard, that steam began to rise and he forced himself to breathe, to try and let the words bounce off him even as the mating bond thumped in his chest. His instincts to shred any male who even thought of his wife were already reaching their limits before they even brought her up and he was trying not to be stupid enough to fall for his father’s tactics. He knew better. He knew better. And yet, the guttural noise couldn’t be helped when Eris snarled, “Father. Do not mention my wife.”  

Beron rolled his eyes. “Why? Your brothers know she’s fuckable. Finn was chasing her skirts in the stables not that long ago.”

Eris’s head snapped to Finn, his rage irrational as he gripped the front of his brother’s tunic tightly and Finn stared at him in disbelief, appalled at Eris’s glare. 

This was why he had hesitated to give in to the mating bond urges. He was about to wring his brother’s neck when he knew Finn had been with Iris. He had sent his brother himself and yet – and yet. 

Finn immediately straightened, his own anger barely leashed as he glared at their father. “That is not what happened.” 

“Denial isn’t the tone of the innocent, boy.” Beron taunted as Eris’s gaze slid back to his Father and that gleam of cruel amusement immediately doused Eris’s anger. His father was toying with them as always. And he had —

“What the fuck is your problem?” Finn snarled at their father and Eris held his father’s gaze, slowly releasing Finn but holding him back with a hand to his brother’s chest.

Eris couldn’t help but release a little of the damper he usually held on his power, rage blazing in his gaze and the High Lord’s eyes narrowed. 

“Enough,” he commanded, and despite the anger coming off him in waves, Finn managed to stand back and Eris knew his brother couldn’t help his expression of disgust at their father. “There will be no more talk about my wife.” he said then his gaze shifted to his brothers. “And no more negotiations on this matter.”

The tension in the room rose tenfold. It was a challenge to stand like this, to face the High Lord and command his sons in front of him. They had always listened to Eris but they were good at keeping it discreet. Not too obvious. 

Eris forced himself to shove Finn back, fully facing his father. “Let’s all remember how Father…has a sense of humor,” Eris said slowly. “Nothing more.”

Beron watched Eris with a raised brow and a few moments of silence stretched between them before the High Lord snorted. “A sense of humor,” he said then his face pinched in distaste. His gaze washed over Eris and again, he hated how tense it made him.  “This conversation is done. I have nothing else to say to you all. You have one task at the ball. Do not embarrass me.”

“We’ll try while whoring ourselves out.” Emil asked flatly and Beron tilted his head, that look of disdain still on his face.

“I do not care for the tone you speak to me in. All of you,” he said and waved a hand carelessly. “Apologize.” 

“Do we get an apology?” Izak asked with a snort and though Izak had at least six inches on his father, the High Lord had grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him down to his eye level. 

“Do not test me, boy. Or I will rip your tongue out.” he snapped and shoved Izak back. “You’re all lucky I already gave my word that you’d meet with the families and I want you to look presentable. Otherwise, you would’ve been reminded of exactly what happens to people who get disrespectful with the High Lord. Apologize.” 

It was silent for a suspenseful moment before in unison, the brothers choked out, “Apologies, father.” 

And the four of them stood before him, waiting to be dismissed; sons watching their father and father watching his sons. Eris was ready for whatever may come as long as there would finally be an end to this. 

Beron watched them all with narrowed eyes, the seconds ticking by, and as if sensing them so miserable in his presence, his mouth curled into an ugly smirk and he finally nodded toward the door. “Get out of my sight.”

Without acknowledging each other, the brothers angrily stormed out and Eris forced himself to give his father a tight nod before he turned and made his way to leave. He didn’t trust his father’s parting expression one bit and Eris was only able to take a deep breath after the study door sealed shut behind him.

His brothers stood before him but Eris shook his head. Not here. They couldn’t say a word here. Their father was absolutely listening.

“I’d rather not see your hideous faces until the ball. Stay out of my way.” Eris said, then held up two fingers to Izak and Emil and they both nodded back; they’d speak again in two days. 

“I’ll show up if I feel up to it,” Emil replied casually and waved a hand for a report to appear, handing them to Eris. “You don’t have to nag.”

“I have nothing to say to either of you so if I don’t see you until the ball it’ll be a fucken blessing.” Izak added and pulled his own reports rolled up from his jacket. 

“You.” Eris said and pointed to Finn then jerked his head for him to follow. 

“What?” Finn, his tone purposely aggressive and nodded, saluting casually as Izak and Emil disappeared without a sound.

“We need to have a word.” 

And Eris made sure his tone was threatening enough, sounding like it promised violence as they left. They walked in silence, Eris’s blood pumping as they descended down the front gates and he knew he needed to get far enough away – far enough to not feel like his father was still looking at him – like his father’s gaze wasn’t watching him now. Turning suddenly, Eris grabbed Finn by the collar and before his brother could object, winnowed them to a hidden dwelling in their forests.

“What the hell, Eris?” Finn said as Eris shoved him back. He held up a hand until his shield was in place, then he let out a long breath.

Finn watched him and Eris knew his brother could see him struggling. His hands were starting to shake, steam starting to rise from them again as Eris began to pace.

“Well. At least I know you’re not going to murder me.” 

“The jury is still out on that,” Eris muttered and when Finn grunted, he shot his brother a glare, grateful that his nose wasn’t too badly bruised. “You know better than to keep answering him. How many times does he have to break your nose before you stop?”

“He fucken hates me. It doesn’t matter if I spoke up or not, he would’ve knocked me around regardless.” Finn snapped. “At least I can get some things off my chest.”

“You’re an idiot,” Eris grumbled and took another deep breath as he paced, steam rising from each step he took. “He knows something.” 

Finn instantly straightened. “What makes you say that?”

Eris shook his head. “This little move isn’t for nothing and I don’t fucken like it.” He paused, glancing in the direction of the open field then flickered back to that hidden dwelling. A narrow, half-broken trail, partially concealed by overhanging branches and tangled roots led through the towering trees and to the right, a stream on the other side of the cabin that led to the river running throughout the Autumn Court. It made him pause. He’d been looking for a place like this within the court. The little cabin in the woods to whisk away his wife off to.

His wife. 

Eris shook his head, pushing his father’s stupid taunting out of his head, and focused back on Finn who watched him with furrowed brows.

“Are you alright?”

“No.” Eris answered too honestly.

“Do you…want to talk about it?” 

“I’d rather die.” 

Finn held up his hands with a snort. “I had to ask. You’re more on edge than usual.” 

“Given our circumstances, I’m grateful to be standing,” he said dryly then jerked his chin towards Finn. “Are you alright? He decked you pretty hard.”

Finn shrugged and Eris hated seeing that nonchalant shrug that haunted this family. “Nothing I’m not used to,” he said. “But why did you bring us here?”

Eris glanced again at the little area, hidden away. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ventured to this side of the court and how he used to find some peace and quiet here when he needed it. His gaze flickered to the stream and Eris let himself listen to the sound of nature around them for a moment. He would need to come back. He could shape this place to be a little hideaway he desperately needed. 

“I could feel his eyes on us.” Eris finally answered. “I needed him to think I was going to beat the shit out of you.”

“Because of what he said about Iris?”

Eris felt his anger surge through his body and whatever calm he had briefly found was gone as he paced. He forced himself to take another deep, slow breath. He knew Finn wasn’t saying anything wrong. He knew his brother meant nothing by the question but his answer was still a tight, “Yes.”

A moment of quiet passed before Finn licked his lips and said, “Eris, you know I would never, right?” he asked and Eris glanced at his younger brother, his expression uncharacteristically nervous. “He keeps making stupid fucken comments like that and said the same shit in front of her but we told you everything that happened at the stables. I would never disrespect either of you like that.” 

“I know, Finn. My reaction wasn’t about you.” Eris said and for once, let himself sound as tired as he felt. “He’s a piece of shit. He does it on purpose.”

“He is always saying shit like that to me.” Finn muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.” I’m sure he knows or at least has a feeling I swing both ways and he acts like I’m some kind of sexual predator when the only fucken predator around is him.” 

Eris grunted in agreement then rolled his shoulder back, glancing down at the reports his brothers had given him; he had forgotten he was holding them. Scanning them quickly, it seemed that all was well with their respective areas and Eris also read between the lines; their people were ready. He glanced up at Finn who was now waiting with his hands folded across his chest. “Things on your end?” 

“All is set.” He waved a hand and handed Eris his reports. “They’re starting to get in place.”

Eris nodded then straightened. “Stay out of his way for the next two days. We’ll meet in mother’s garden. Tell them to connect with their spies. Double then triple-check your sources. Find out what he knows. I need to know if information is getting out and if it is, who I need to kill.” he ordered and narrowed his eyes slightly at Finn’s nod. “I’ll reach out to Lucien to update him on this little announcement. What of Theo?”

“He’s going to leave right before the ball.” 

His brother’s quiet tone had Eris clench his fists. Without having to say anything, Eris already understood how Finn felt; Iris hadn’t left him yet and he already felt like he was being skinned alive at the idea of the distance. “That’s cutting it a little close, no?”

A muscle flexed in Finn’s jaw. “He’s gotten a lot of commissions for the Equinox. People want gifts and he’s the best we have.” he said. “He can’t leave too early. He’s too well-known and it’ll make things suspicious.” 

“Depending on what happens, he might not have much of a choice.” Eris said quietly and Finn’s expression hardened. 

“We only have one choice, Eris.”

And that dread that coiled in his chest since they started planning for the ball tightened; it would end one way or another. Eris could only hold on to the hope they were all left standing in one piece.