#whispers: 2 more

[spiritedstars]

Spirit Meets the Bones XXXIX

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: physical abuse/triggering language. Author’s Note:  In case you missed it, I commissioned an art of Iris here! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!!!

thank you @riorsonxaden for always being my cheerleader <3

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

Find it all here.

Iris’s knees buckled beneath her the moment her feet touched the ground; Lucien’s grip on her arm was the only reason she hadn’t fallen face first. 

She sank to her knees, Lucien with her. He was speaking but his voice sounded like a faint murmur over the buzzing in her brain as she tried to focus on breathing. Pain laced every inch of her body, her hands shaking, and it felt like her head was going to explode. 

Chaos reigned in the infirmary. The sound of rushed footsteps, grunts of pain, and commands rang through the room, but all Iris heard was Eris’s cry as he ran toward his father. 

His blood duel declaration. 

She was going to vomit. 

“Princess!” Nevien’s voice rang through and Iris’s head turned to find the Head Healer running towards her. “Oh gods, your injuries. What is going on?”

But Iris couldn’t answer, her breaths were coming in shorter, and she knew panic had set it. “Bowl.” was the only word she could manage. 

“Bowl?” Lucien repeated but Nevien’s eyes widened and she waved her hand for a bowl to zip across the room, quickly placing it in front of Iris just in time for her to lean over and empty her stomach. 

The lashings. The beatings. The pain. All the anxiety that had followed caught up to her at that exact moment and her shoulders shook as she heaved once more.

This was it. Eris was finally fighting his father. He was either going to kill the High Lord or be killed. If he was lucky.

Iris emptied her stomach again.

“She’s running on fumes,” she heard Lucien explaining quickly. “She’s taken lashes and a beating and though it’s been healed somewhat, she’s lost some blood. Eris challenged the High Lord to a blood duel which has resulted in the mayhem that’s taken over the Forest House.”

Nevien gasped as Iris forced herself to take slow breaths, Lucien’s hand steady on her back as she gingerly sat up.

“He finally did it.” the Head Healer whispered. 

“You knew?” Iris rasped and Neiven quickly handed her a glass of water. 

“Of course. It’s about damn time,” she said and then scanned Iris quickly, running a hand over her. “We need to patch you up now. You’ll have to rest for a while but if we make quick work of it, the marks shouldn’t have time to scar.” 

“There’s no time to rest.” Iris grunted as she shakily tried to stand, Lucien reaching out to help her up. “We need to get back to Eris.” 

“You need to stay away from there. Eris specifically wanted you out. You’ll only be an easy target if you go back.” Lucien said gently and Iris’s eyes narrowed.

“My husband and mate just declared a blood duel against his father. I may not be a warrior but I will not stand by and wait to see what happens. I want to be there and I need everyone to stop telling me to leave him.” 

“Iris –”

“Lucien.” she started and swallowed hard, gritting her teeth at the pain as she straightened away from him, one hand holding onto the healing table to her side, fighting the shaking in her legs. “I will not cower and I will not hide. He will win and I intend to be there when he does.” 

“I understand,” he started and Iris bristled at the placating tone. “I do, but he wanted you away from the fight because he knows how bad it could get. You need to stay here.”

“Like hell, I will.” she snarled and Lucien’s nostril flared.

“Iris. You need –”

“What I need is to know what is happening to my husband!” Iris trembled. “I can’t stay here and wonder when I could help.”

“You’ll help by staying away – which is what he asked of you.”

“Lucien.” Iris snapped, her entire body shaking. She needed him to understand, she needed him to get it. “I can feel every single thing he’s feeling right now. I can sense him and his hurt and rage. You can try to lock me in here. You can try to tie me down but I will get back to him. No matter who is in my way.”

Lucien’s mouth tightened into a thin line as they watched each other. She would be with Eris and her family, come hell or high waters. Whatever will happen, she will be there with him for it. 

It took Lucien a moment to speak, his words gentle, “It may not end well.”

“So be it but nothing will stop me from getting back to him.” Iris snapped, the words harsher than she intended. She took a breath, steadying herself as she forced her trembling legs to stand on their own. “I left him once already this night and all it did was escalate things. If I stay behind and something happens to him, I’ll never forgive myself. I’ll stand back—I won’t get in his way—but I have to be there.”

Iris’s gaze darted between Neiven’s worried expression and Lucien’s calculating one. She knew Eris would be distracted if he saw her again. She knew he didn’t want to worry about her. But gods damn it, Iris couldn’t let him be alone. He was her mate. And she wanted to fight for him as hard as he was fighting for everyone.

She held up a hand as Lucien opened his mouth. “I am not foolish. I won’t jeopardize anything. I will ensure I can stand on my own two feet before leaving this room. I will be careful.”

A breath of silence passed, and then Lucien sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re all so stubborn,” he mumbled. 

Iris gave him a rueful smile but before she could say more, a voice rang out, “Iris!”

She turned sharply at the call of her name, Lucien stepping closer, but it was only Theo limping his way over with Cosette on his tail. Iris let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re both alright.” she breathed. “Lord Marcus?”

“He’s resting over there,” Theo answered, nodding to his left with a grimace. “I’m glad you made it here. I’m sorry you –”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she said shakily then looked at Lucien, gesturing to both of them. “Theo and Cosette. Finn and Emil.”

Lucien lifted a brow, his hand shooting out to balance Iris when she swayed slightly and stared at his brother’s paramours curiously. “So they really have hearts, I see.”

“They buried them very deep,” she said with a tired chuckle and allowed herself to lean back against the table again, glancing at Nevien. “I’d like a tonic to settle my stomach, please. I need to clean these wounds and heal my back as quickly as you are able to. I know we don’t recommend elixirs for a boost but this is a moment where I need it.”

Nevien’s brows furrowed. “Respectfully princess, you and I both know rushing is not the way. I do not recommend you go anywhere.” the Head Healer said firmly. “If I heal it quickly it’ll likely scar. You may experience residual pain if you don’t allow yourself to rest properly.”

“Let it scar. I am no better than my husband.” Iris replied, stubbornly. “Whatever energy you can give me, I’ll take it. I can rest when this is over.”

Nevien’s mouth went into a thin line but before she could object again, Lucien spoke, “Have you seen my mother or Emil?”

 “And Oren?” Iris asked quickly. 

“Yes.” Nevien answered. “Oren was dropped off not too long ago and Emil and Lady Enya only briefly let me see them before leaving. We’ve been swamped ever since.”  

Iris shared a glance with Lucien. The two had to be on their way to the throne room. 

“In that case, we need to move quick –” Lucien started as Iris shifted to Nevien when a sudden burst of movement came from the far side of the infirmary. 

The door swung open violently, and a young healer’s apprentice stumbled in, panting, eyes wide with fear.

“The blood duel!” she gasped. “Prince Finn and Izak declared it against the High Lord as well. It’s madness!”

Iris felt her stomach drop and she turned to Lucien, her heartbeat roaring in her ears. “We have to go,” she said, turning to the Head Healer. “Nevien, please –”

Without a word, Nevien gathered her supplies. Her hands moved swiftly, gathering the herbs and tonics she needed as a small vial was placed into Iris’s hand. “This will settle your stomach,” she said and her tone sharpened as she continued, “I will do as you asked of me, on the condition that you allow yourself a moment of rest. It will be strong magic you’re taking all at once and I don’t like what it may do. You need to be careful.”

Iris gulped down the bitter liquid, feeling it cool her burning throat. She took a breath then another, feeling herself about to heave before the unease slowly subsided and Iris let out a breath of relief. She wiped her mouth, still shaking slightly but with every breath, she felt more and more at ease, more stable. 

Bracing herself against the table, Iris quickly slid her arms out of her dress and held it against her chest, exposing the injuries on her back. She had made herself go numb, forgetting about the searing pain of it all until this moment where a sting accompanied every movement. She glanced behind her to find Lucien and Theo turned away and Nevien preparing herself. 

“Let me fight with you,” Theo said. “I want to help.”

“You most certainly will not!” Nevien said. “You want to help, you can stay and help me.”

Iris shot him a remorseful look but agreed with the Head Healer; he was barely standing as is. “You and Cosette will be safer and more helpful here. Please.” she said then glanced around the room and swallowed hard, adding, “Could someone please bring me something more comfortable to wear? I – I can’t stay in this dress.” Cosette gave her a quick nod and moved to do as she requested, a look of understanding in her eyes.

Her beautiful custom-made gown was ruined. The dress Eris had so thoughtfully made for her. For her first ball with her husband. In tatters. 

Another reason to get back down there. Maybe she could find her father and repay him for ruining it. 

“Are you ready?” the Head Healer asked gently and Iris glanced back to give her a nod. “This is going to hurt.” 

“I’m sure I’ve already dealt with worse,” she muttered, bracing herself as Nevien only gave her a look of warning before bringing her hands near Iris’s back and began tending to her wounds quickly. Her hands glowed faintly as she worked over Iris’s torn skin, and Iris let out a small hiss as the Head Healer’s magic touched her wounds. A gasp quickly followed as the pain seemed to hit her all at once and Iris let out a cry. 

“Nevien –” Iris groaned.

“I’m sorry, princess,” Nevien said as her hands continued. “I know this is painful but please bear it. It’s the only way I can heal you as quickly as you’d like.” 

And so Iris gritted her teeth, her grip tightening on the table's edge as she tried not to make a noise. Eris had certainly dealt with worse. Iris could handle this. She could. She would. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could be helpful.

But as Nevien’s magic touched a particularly raw spot – one the whip had hit repeatedly, Iris felt her vision blur.

Healing magic should always soothe, like a cool balm—a touch of relief and a breath of fresh air. But when rushed, when it was healing a deep wound, it seared like hot iron on the skin—violent. It burned in a way it shouldn’t, but Iris refused to make a sound. 

Compared to the inferno of the battle below, compared to the agony Eris had endured, she would not let this hold her back.

“Almost –” the Head Healer said. “I’m almost through.” 

Before Iris could reply, her eyelids fluttered and the world began to go dark for a second time that night. She slumped against the table but Iris’s grip tightened. She would not faint. 

“Lucien.” she gritted out. “Go. I will f-follow.”

“Iris –”

“Nevien, a moment.” Iris requested tightly and the Head Healer paused. She took several breaths, blinking rapidly as the string of Nevien’s magic ran through her wounds before she took the chance to glance over her shoulder to find Lucien’s tense expression. “I will finish this and bring any willing healers with me to help those I can. I’ll stay out of the way.” She repeated, then swallowed and slowly straightened, careful of her dress. “This has to end tonight and he needs his brothers. Help how you can. Go.”

Lucien watched her in silence for a moment but Iris saw the understanding in his gaze. A flare of warmth from her husband’s brother who was now her brother — her family in all the ways it mattered.

Lucien finally nodded. “Be careful,” he said. “Dress in a way that won’t make you an easy find.”

“I will.” 

But her brother-in-law gave her a pointed look, holding a finger up. “Out of the way. Careful.” 

Iris nodded, watching him leave, her heart already in her throat before glancing back at Nevien and nodding. She braced herself against the table once more and took a deep, uncomfortable breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

—

Eris blinked, the sound of chaos around him muffled by the pounding of his own heart. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog, but the blood trickling from his temple only made his vision blur more. His left leg trembled beneath him, threatening to give out at any second. His right hand felt numb, as if the bone had been ground into dust.

But he didn’t let himself collapse. He couldn’t.

Because despite the fighting taking place and despite the hits his father had taken, Eris still felt Beron’s towering form looming over him, intent on wiping him out. All his childhood horrors and nightmares, still standing before him. 

Eris had fought in wars and by far, this fight with his father was deadlier than all of them combined.

And Beron may not be what he once was—the invincible father whose fist had crushed everything in his path—but even with his chest heaving, his ragged breaths, the High Lord of the Autumn Court radiated dangerous power.

The ballroom around them no longer glittered – it had started to crumble and now smelled of smoke, blood, and searing, wild magic. His firehounds were still circling, their snarls echoing off the walls as they attacked those around them– but with most of Eris’s strength spent, the hounds were growing sluggish, their forms flickering in and out of existence.

Finn and Izak moved in and out of his periphery, fighting off his father’s soldiers while trying to land hits on the High Lord and Eris could sense their struggle. They were barely hanging on better than him. 

All their planning, all their years of waiting, it was coming down to this. As each moment passed, their father’s magic and sword lashed out at his sons, and Eris felt their desperation as intensely as his own.

And still, they fought as Eris circled his father, forcing the High Lord’s attention back on his eldest son.

The High Lord followed his movement, spitting blood at his feet, his blade held tightly. “Still don’t want to give up, boy? You’re barely standing.” he spat, his voice thick with venom, his lips curled in a nasty sneer. 

Eris felt his pulse thudding in his ears, but his gaze never wavered from his father. “You say that but ever since Finn’s blade sank into your gut, you’ve struggled to focus, Father.” Eris taunted, the corner of his mouth lifting. “A little knife play never hurt anyone but evidently, you seem too soft for it.” 

His eyes flicked to the wound at Beron’s side—where Finn’s blade had landed earlier—but the High Lord still held his ground. Even with Lucien’s earlier stab, blood still seeping from both wounds, from the corner of Beron’s mouth, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He was still dangerous. Still deadly.

And Beron’s expression darkened at Eris's words. 

“Soft, you say?” The High Lord said threateningly.

Eris’s mouth curled into his signature smirk, fighting the tremors in his body as he replied, “Oh, I’m sorry. I meant to say, weak.” 

A heartbeat of silence.

And without warning, the High Lord lunged.

Eris barely had time to react. The muscles in his legs screamed as he shifted to the side, his blade coming up just in time to catch Beron’s attack but the force of the blades clashing vibrated through his body, his arm threatening to buckle under the pressure. He staggered back, the ground beneath his feet unstable as he twisted, trying to regain his balance. His fingers were going numb, magic fraying at the edges as it blocked his father’s attacks. 

But Beron didn’t stop. The High Lord grinned and Eris snarled viciously as Beron’s blade sliced the air again, this time aiming for Eris’s throat.

Eris didn’t flinch. He wouldn’t flinch.

He swept his blade up, blocking the blow, and Eris let his magic flare through him. Every inch of him was ablaze, roaring as he poured his fire into his blade and twisted it towards his father again.

Beron’s blade met his to block the hit but Eris used the momentum to send out his magic again, even as the effort of it was starting to hurt, even as it sent a ripple of pain through his battered body. He gasped, his vision dimming for a moment, but he forced it away, pushing through the agony.

He couldn’t stop. Not now, as magic and steel clashed together.

“We’ll see how weak I’ll be when I drag your wife back here to watch me beat you to a pulp and then rip your head off.” Beron snarled, stepping closer, his words a guttural growl, and Eris’s vision went red. “How enticing her screams will be.”

Eris’s lip curled, breathing hard, each inhale a battle in itself. But he didn’t care. As long as this fucker stood here, nothing else mattered. Nothing else mattered when Beron could still walk away and touch the people he loved most. “Your talk is cheap, Father. Just like your last moments will be.” 

His words were barely out when Beron surged forward again, so fast but this time, Eris was ready. He was ready to return the blow as the High Lord’s blade drove toward his chest, but—

His smokehounds.

A howl erupted from the shadows, a deep, terrifying sound that cut through the madness — like a crack of thunder in the charged atmosphere and Eris knew he had cultivated their reputation well when the scent of fear intensified across the room. 

His beloved hounds had come for him.

They surged forward, swarming Beron’s legs like a pack of ravenous wolves. Their claws scraped against the once gleaming floors now marred with bodies and blood, a warning to their movements as they attacked, nothing more than a blur of shadow and snarls.

Beron roared in fury and then to Eris’s delight, pain, slashing at the black shapes with his blade. But they were relentless, swarming around him, biting at his hands, his legs, trying for his throat. 

Eris had trained them well – knowing that his father would lash out with his magic and his hounds would know when and how to dodge. 

He didn’t hesitate to lunge forward, wildfire in his eyes as his magic surged through him again —

But Beron’s magic flared and with a snarl, he spat, “Wrong move.” 

Eris’s magic met his father’s but a pained whine distracted him. He blinked as his magic strained to fight against his father’s and found that Beron had Lyra by her collar. 

His heart stuttered. Not Lyra.

“I can’t believe you’re hesitating for a creature as worthless as a dog.” Beron snapped, his grip tightening on the hound’s throat and Eris watched as his pet struggled, kicking her legs and trying to bite his father. 

“You’ve never known love a moment in your life.” Eris snarled. “How would you understand what it means to care about anyone?”

The High Lord gave a nasty laugh, his magic holding the other hounds at a distance as they snarled and attempted to break through the barrier he had up. “You’d lose to me over your pet? You’d let yourself get killed over an animal?”

“I won’t be losing to you.” Eris snarled and moved closer, watching his father’s grip on Lyra’s throat. “Stop using a shield and fight me.”

“Oh, I will kill you.” Beron promised with nothing but violence in his eyes. “I will kill you slowly. Painfully. I will make you pay for every moment you have embarrassed me and –”

A surge of heat tore between them, forcing them both to back away as his mother’s voice called out, “You won’t touch another hair on my son’s head.” 

Eris watched as his father halted, his expression morphing into disbelief then fury. They both turned to find his mother, as radiant as a bright sunset, with flames encompassing every inch of her body. 

She was glowing, heat emitting from her body and Eris couldn’t remember a time when her magic had flared this strongly. Pride spread through his chest and as Emil took a step forward to stand beside their mother, Eris felt the shift in the room instantly. 

Finn and Izak had come to stand a few feet beside him. They surrounded his father. 

“You.” the High Lord snarled and threw Lyra to the side as he turned to his wife, ignoring the snarl of his head hound who moved immediately to stand guard in front of Eris. Beron ignored his sons, his eyes only for the wife who hated him, who had barely tolerated him.

The wife who had patiently waited for this moment.

Who had suffered for her freedom. 

“Me.” she spat and it was the harshest his mother had ever sounded. 

Eris watched as his father’s grip tightened on his blade, his chest heaving with nothing but hate in his expression. 

“And here I thought, I finally got rid of you.” Beron hissed.

“I let you snuff me out long enough.” Lady Enya seethed, straightening. “And if you think I will let you hurt my sons any further, you are gravely mistaken.”

For a moment, Beron let it be silent as his gaze flickered from his wife to each of his sons, seemingly realizing that they were all in agreement. 

The High Lord’s jaw clenched and he slowly rolled his shoulders back, his eyes back on his wife. “And what exactly are you planning to do about it, Enya?”

Lady Enya unsheathed a blade, and without taking her eyes off the male she hated most, she ran a hand down the length of it, her fire coating the blade. Enya sliced her palm, gripping the blade until the scent of fresh blood filled the air. The tension in the room tightened as she raised the blade in front of her and slashed the air twice, two lines of fire appearing in the air before her.

“Something I should’ve been brave enough to do long ago,” she said. “To give you a small taste of your own medicine.”  

And Eris finally allowed himself a wild grin as Emil followed his mother’s movements and magic crackled in the hall, shaking the walls as the sanctity of the blood duel sharpened. 

Never in the history of the Autumn Court had a blood duel been enacted by five people at once. Never, had the hatred of one person inspired such a response, and as he and each of his brothers raised their blades, his mother took a step forward, her magic a beacon, their north star, guiding them to the finish line. 

“I see.” Beron only said, eyeing each of them, and Eris saw the small crack in his expression. The tightening of his jaw, the slight frown as he watched his family circle him. Eris could almost – almost, feel sorry for him had all of this not been his own choice. 

“Your dishonor is coming to an end,” Eris said and Beron’s eyes flickered to his eldest. “Any last words, father?”

The High Lord glanced at his family once more, standing around him, each of them a wall of flame, swords brandished. They were battered and bruised but they were united against him. 

He, the odd male out. He, however the outcome, would lose everything tonight. 

“I say, give me your all,” Beron said as he straightened, meeting each of their gazes. “Because if I remain alive, none of you will survive what is left of me.” 

There was a beat of silence, and Eris allowed himself one moment to mourn what was to come. Tightening his grip on his sword, he said, “So be it.” 

And together, the brothers and their north star moved as one. 

~

Iris carefully crept back towards the ballroom. A few healers had braved the journey down and together, they had scattered to help those injured in their way. Despite the slight sting she felt from her injuries, Iris directed as quickly and as efficiently as she could. Nevien had patched her up well but gods, did it sting; the bruising on her face was still tender. The lashings on her back had barely healed.

As the healers worked, Iris gestured to them that she would continue down the hall, knowing that whoever could, would follow her and help those in need. 

And there were so many who needed help. The casualties in this fight were more than expected.

Her heart hammered in her chest with each step closer, eyeing the different people the healers were already assisting and as she reached the door to the ballroom, she paused, almost terrified to walk in.

Iris could still hear the fighting. The clashing of the swords. The roars of battle. 

And amidst all the chaos, she hadn’t seen her father and that worried her more than anything. Where had that piece of shit gone? 

Carefully, she looked into the ballroom and sucked in a breath. 

It was in ruins. 

Her eyes found her love and she felt her heart leap into her throat at the sight. 

There were so many cuts on him. So much blood. 

Iris felt her chest tighten and made herself take a breath, then another, not taking her eyes off them. She couldn’t even if she wanted to.

Eris was fighting but he wasn’t fighting alone; fire and magic swept between the Vanserra brothers and their mother; even the smokehounds fought, their growls and howls mixing with the chaos. They were all aimed at the High Lord but Beron hadn’t held on to being High Lord for this long to go down so easily. He was a beast and this type of beast could not be tamed. 

Forcing herself to swallow hard, her gaze flickered around the room to assess what else was going on and she zeroed in on that fucken flogged pole, anger and a lick of fear crept through her other emotions and she glanced away, looking for Lucien. Where had he gone? He was meant to help, wasn’t he? Where –

A hand touched her shoulder and Iris whirled, fists raised but –

“It’s only me,” Lucien said with a small smile. “I’ve been shutting down the other fights and staying out of the way until the right moment.” He held up a knife. “I believe this is yours.”

Iris blinked at him in surprise, her hand reaching out to slowly close around the handle of her dagger. “You work so quickly,” she said. “You should visit more often.”

Lucien snorted, his eyes back on the fights in front of him. “If they gut him and we’re done with all this, Elain and I will demand a suite of our own.” 

Iris managed a small, tight smile. “If they finish this today, you and Elain can have whatever you want.” 

A grunt drew both of their attention back to the fight and Iris recoiled slightly when she saw Izak sink to his knees. Beron’s magic had reached out, driving his sword not once but twice into his son’s side and Lucien swore. 

“I’m –”

“Go.” Iris urged him and watched in horror as Lucien rushed forward and pulled Izak out of the way of another attack.

Iris fought her instincts. She could help heal him. She could heal him and he’d still be able to fight – another breath shuddered out of her when Beron’s magic wrapped around Finn’s throat and then threw him across the room with all his might. The sound of his body crashing into the dias echoed through the room and Iris felt ready to vomit. 

But the High Lord continued, his magic attacking as quickly as his sword did, fighting the remaining three. Lucien had reached Izak, pushing him away and shielding them both with fire to fend off another attack. 

Lucien met her eye and nodded to Izak who was trying to use his sword to stand and Iris hesitated no longer. She made to rush forward, tightening her grip on her dagger and –

“I don’t think so.” 

An iron grip latched onto her arm and she was forced away from the scene, and slammed into the wall behind her with a groan. And gods fucken damn it, did it make her healing wounds flare.

Of course. Of course, her fucken father found her.

“I’m not letting you get in the way and play your little tricks to fix them. They will go down as the High Lord intended.” Aron hissed and as Iris glared at him, she was at least satisfied to see how badly hurt he was. 

But then she blinked and looked at him again. He was truly in bad shape. Disheveled, peppered with bruises, and breathing heavily. 

Gods, she hated him. He was no family of hers and yet stood in the way of her helping the chosen family she now had. She would allow it no more.

“Father.” she said in an even tone and he sneered at her as she slowly stood, a hand still gripping her dagger, the other balancing her against the wall. 

“Don’t you try anything –”

“You know this is a losing fight.” Iris breathed. “None of them will stop while he’s still standing.” 

Aron growled, grabbing her by the front of her dress. “You’re like a parasite I can’t get rid of. I thought the lashings would’ve taken you out and yet somehow you wormed your way down here.” he snarled and Iris glared at him.

“Takes a parasite to know one, father.” she sneered and tried to pull out of his grip. “I can’t wait until that piece of shit is taken down so you’ll go down with him and I’ll finally be rid of you.”

“Oh, is that what you think? You think I’ll allow him to lose when I stand to gain so much?” he said. “I will kill them all myself if I have to. Stay — out — of — the — way.” 

Aron shoved her back hard and Iris slammed shoulder-first into the wall and fought back a hiss as her father turned from her. 

She made a split-second decision as she watched him scan the room. 

In the next breath, Iris had buried her blade in the back of his left leg. Her father let out a gasp of pain and whirled at her in shock as she pulled it out quickly. 

But Iris didn’t hesitate, she buried it again in his right thigh and twisted. Her father howled as he let out a roar of pain and stumbled, sinking to his knees before her and Iris felt her whole body in overdrive as she yanked the blade out again and then sank it into the right side of his clavicle, digging it into his flesh as he yelped.

She had finally done what she’d been dying to do for years.

“I guess you’re right. I will stay out of their way.” she breathed and Iris yanked his head back, her grip tight on the hilt of her dagger. “I will focus on helping you get out of their way instead.”

“You fucken bitch.” he hissed but Iris could tell every other beating, every other injury he had already sustained today had caught up to him. Above all else, the shock of her doing this had incapacitated him.

Iris snorted and pulled him in closer, her foot coming down hard on his hand creeping up to grab her. “You say the nicest things to me.” 

But hatred met hatred as father and daughter looked at each other, and Iris thought of everything she’d ever wanted to tell him, every feeling of rage and helplessness he had made her feel. All of the pain, humiliation, all of the hate he had let fester in her heart. “For all of my life, you went out of your way to make me feel small and insignificant for no other reason than your own insecurities and stupidity.” she snarled. “You spent all these years trying to break me down, living at your mercy, and thought that selling me off to Eris would be the thing that I never came back from, and yet, here I am. Standing over you. Overpowering you while you bleed here, now at my mercy.” 

Her grip tightened on him as he watched her and her foot dug harder into his hand as he fought back a groan. “I owe you my gratitude for one thing and one thing only.” She pulled her dagger from his chest with a wet sound and a broken gasp slipped from her father’s mouth. Iris sank to meet her father at his eye level and let a small smile bloom on her face. “You thought Eris would carry on your legacy of beating me down but instead, you gave me the greatest gift I could ever hope for. A friend. A partner. You gave me my mate and for that, I can finally find something to thank you for.”

“Your what —” 

Her expression hardened and again, with zero hesitation, her dagger pierced his stomach and she buried it as deeply as it would go putting all her repressed hate in the blow and holding.   

Her father's expression shuddered as he blinked at her in an almost comical look of disbelief and as Iris stared at him, she tried to find some feeling of remorse – any feeling of regret. Instead, as if her hand had a mind of its own, she found herself twisting the knife deeper into his wound. 

“You deserve this and more. You deserve every awful thing coming your way and I will see to it that your death is slow. Painful. I will see to it that you wish for death every day and death will evade you as you suffer.” she whispered to him. “You have haunted me in every moment of my life but no more. Today is the day you and the piece of shit you follow will cease to hold any ground.”

Iris yanked her dagger out with relish and with all the strength she had left, slammed the hilt into the side of his head. And it was as if she was watching it in slow motion as the male that had ruined so many moments of her life, finally fell back with a thud.

She watched his bleeding body slumped on the floor and Iris found herself breathing heavily, her hands starting to shake. 

Oh gods.

She’d stabbed her father. Multiple times. 

Something she’d only dreamed about doing.

Except now she’d actually done it. She’d actually stabbed her father. 

Iris glanced down at her hands now coated with her father’s blood and wondered when the healer in her would forgive her for hurting instead of helping.

Her eyes found his slumped figure again, barely breathing. If she didn’t heal him, he would probably die soon. Her dagger had been tipped in faebane…his own healing magic wouldn’t kick in.

If there was one male that never deserved help, it was her fucken father but still…she wondered if –

“Remind me to never get on your bad side, damn.” 

She startled at the wheezed voice close to her and her dagger clattered to the ground. Iris found herself staring at a very, very hurt Izak.

And suddenly, Iris remembered where she was and what was happening. 

“Izak, oh gods.” she rushed over but he pointed to her dagger.

“Never be unarmed,” he said tightly, one hand attempting to stop the bleeding in his side, the other clenching his sword. 

She grabbed her dagger and then slid over to him as quickly as possible, her hands assessing immediately. Her magic was more spent than she would’ve liked but Iris gave it her all, focusing on where he was losing blood. “Are you feeling lightheaded?”

“This is just a scratch, sister. I’ve had much worse.” Izak grunted and pushed Iris’s head down as he slashed his sword into an enemy aiming for her. “Having a healer in the family is going to be great.” 

“I can tell this is going to be lovely for my blood pressure.” she muttered, fighting back a smile as Izak wheezed out a chuckle. 

But her eyes returned to where her father lay, bleeding out from her multiple wounds. 

She was a healer. Someone who soothed and yet…

“Oy.” 

Iris’s attention went back to Izak as he slowly sat up and she pulled her hands away, feeling him more steady. “I did as best as I could. Your own magic should’ve kicked in.”

“Thank you,” he said, then touched her hand as he stood. “Don’t feel any guilt. He was a part of this and had it coming and I can tell you, if my brother wasn’t already obsessed with you, he would’ve proposed on the spot just for that.” 

The corner of her mouth lifted and she stood quickly with him. “You’re right. I just –”

“Not to interrupt but it would be nice if you could check on Finn and have a heart-to-heart at a later time when we all aren’t susceptible to death at any moment?” Lucien’s voice called and it was the strain in his tone that had Izak saluting Iris and turning on the spot, rushing back into the fray. 

Iris passed Lucien who still fought any of the High Lord’s loyalists trying to assist Beron in his blood duel and she had to dodge multiple attempts coming at her as she rushed to Finn.

She found her brother-in-law struggling to stand, a horrible cut that ran across his face, beneath his left eye to the end of his right jaw. “Don’t move.” she commanded immediately but Finn only glanced at her, balancing himself on his swords. 

“Not a choice,” he mumbled and Iris gently pushed him back down so he could sit and ran her hands across the tender bruises on his neck and side of his head. 

“You have some bad bruises and I’m worried about a concussion,” Iris explained. “Hold on, please.” She ran her hands as quickly as she could and grimaced when she reached the cut on his face. “I don’t have the ointment with me that’ll help this not scar but if you don’t wait too long, it’ll –”

“I don’t give a fuck about scars. Theo will think it’s hot. Is he –”

“He’s safe, in the infirmary. He’ll be fine.” 

“Gods –”

“Focus on you, please,” she said firmly and when color had returned to his face, she nodded. “I did the best I could, you have to be careful.” 

Finn stood and shook his head. “Too late for that. Need to kill my father.” 

“What about the faebane, Finn? Why hasn’t it worked on him?”

“Gone. Smashed in the fight.” Finn said, panting slightly as he stood and straightened himself. “He knew exactly where –”

“I still have one!” Iris exclaimed and her hand flew to the pocket in her dress to pull out the small vial; she had been stunned to find it still intact when she had changed from her ruined gown to the healer's gown now. “Take it. Use it.” 

Finn’s battered face lit up. “I could kiss you right now but then Eris would kill me.” he said and a breathless chuckle slipped out before she could stop it as Finn took it. “A fucken miracle, you are.” 

“Be careful!” she called out and Iris watched as he rushed back into the field and stepped back, her eyes finding her husband again. He was a blur of flame, fighting hard and she watched, color leaching from her face as he tried to get the High Lord while trying to protect his mother. 

He had just maneuvered his blade, slicing at his father’s shoulder, when his body stiffened and Iris held her breath as his head snapped to her.

The mating bond had been thumping at the back of Eris’s mind since she had left his side earlier, screaming at him to check on his mate. To protect and take care of. Eris had fought against it, going as far as shielding his mind to focus on the one thing that mattered now – taking down his father. 

Flame and steel clashed again and again but in all of his miserable existence, no other fight had ever been as necessary – as significant to their lives as this one was.

But Iris.

He didn’t understand why she was back in the room. 

Emil shot him a look as Eris felt himself stumble back a step, his eyes locked on her face. 

Why the fuck was she back here? Hadn’t Lucien got her out? If his father knew she was here he would —

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when his father’s magic blarred into him, slamming him across the room. 

Eris blinked, spots coloring his vision, and wheezed, spitting blood as he slowly, shakily tried to stand. His stupid distraction had cost him and if Eris wanted his father to stay the fuck away from his wife then he had better get up and kill him. 

He felt arms wrap around him and it was hands he knew too well – hands he craved. 

“Get up – get up.” she begged and Eris hated the shaking in her voice even as her lovely scent enveloped him.

“Why are you –” 

“Finn has the last vial of faebane. I gave it to him to get to you.” she quickly said, her hands moving, healing any wounds she found and Eris wanted to kneel over at how she was here and still taking care of him. “Use it and end this, Eris. Finish it.” 

The High Lord let out a deep roar and the ground shook as every inch of him was aflame. They both glanced back as the Beron’s fire spread out around them and the impact of it sent Izak, Finn, and Emil back, leaving Lady Enya standing alone in front of him. 

“Mother.” Eris breathed and for a moment, he felt like the little boy who had been helpless to stop his father’s abuse. Like he was about to watch her abuse begin all over again. 

But no – there would be no more of that. His breaths started to come faster, and it was as though his mate’s presence had been an elixir, reviving his soul. He would end this. He would make this world a safer place for his mother. For his mate. For himself. 

Glancing back at his wife once, he allowed himself this one look, and then no distractions. He would focus on the only person he needed to. Because the sooner this was over, the sooner they would all be free.

He caressed her face once as Iris nodded at him, her expression as determined as his own and Eris turned back toward the fight with renewed vigor. 

His magic flared up and he felt that familiar wildfire spread across his skin. 

The air grew thick with the intensity of the battle as Eris’s magic twisted around him. Iris felt it like a wave of heat, her chest tightening as she watched him, a walking inferno as he put himself in front of his mother and ran in to meet the wrath of his father hit for hit. Her heart pounded as her eyes followed Eris and she staggered back, sinking to the ground to the right of the dias as the High Lord and his eldest moved against each other. As each of the brothers staggered up, bleeding – broken, and still reaching for the High Lord. As Lucien moved across the hall, a blur of steel, soldiers falling as he passed them. 

But Eris’s wildfire had gripped his father and she could sense how untamed it had become, the chaotic surge of his power echoed through her chest. She knew it could be felt all across the room as smoke blinded them. 

“Get out of my way.” Beron snarled and watched Iris sucked in a breath when Beron’s fire flashed, spreading out of him, sending his sons flying again as he charged at Lady Enya. The Lady of Autumn was still aflame and though she was breathing hard, Iris saw her determined expression as she met her husband’s magic with her own.

“You think you can beat me? You think you and your sons will get the better of me?” he sneered, his magic throwing Eris back again, focusing solely on his wife. “Don’t forget what my fire can do, Enya. Don’t forget how much I can make it hurt and by the gods will I make it hurt when this is over.” 

“Go fuck yourself, you bastard.” Enya snarled back. “You’re done. You’re finished and you’ll be forgotten. You’ll go back to being nothing — like the cockroach you were before I married you.” Beron’s eyes flashed and the flare of his magic sent a wave of heat across the room as Enya took a step towards him. “And even if by some mistake you were remembered, they’ll only curse your name and spit on your memory,” she added and spat at his feet. “Exactly as you deserve.”

“You good for nothing bitch.” Beron growled and lept at his wife but his mother roared as she managed to fend off his attack, sending a wave of her magic into his chest, using all the force she had, exactly as Eris had taught her. 

And the world seemed to still for a moment as they all watched the High Lord stagger back, a look of surprise on his face. 

That step was all Eris needed and with wildfire in his eyes and pouring out of every inch of him, he lifted his sword and finally, finally, had an opening to bury his blade into his father’s back. 

A shudder rocked through the room and a deafening silence momentarily surrounded them. The High Lord stood, breathing hard, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he shifted his head to meet his son’s gaze. 

“It’s taken five of you and that bastard to get to me and look at you all, scattered worthlessly and bleeding.” Beron breathed, even as his legs shifted shakily. “You think this is enough to stop me?” 

Eris only leaned in with a burning hatred in his eyes. “Of course not, High Lord,” he sneered. “I know a wild beast when I see one.” Without breaking his father’s gaze, he held out a hand, calling to his brother. “Finn.” 

The sound of the vial Finn threw filled the air and Eris caught it with a look of triumph as the High Lord narrowed his eyes, coughing up blood.  

“Have a little taste, father. I have been saving this for you.” 

Satisfaction flooded his veins, as his brothers and mother surrounded him, blades high, magic wild, and Eris released his still-buried blade, yanked his father’s head back, and forcibly poured the faebane into the High Lord’s mouth. 

[evangelina830]

Day 5 - Music

[mimikyuno]

HIMEJOSHI TUMBLR GATHER UP! SAPPHIC SPRING IS UPON US!!!!! 👊🏻🌸🛐

[clockworkreapers]

Tales from the Gas Station Vol. 2 everyone

[samble-movedd]

"homura is an evil abuser who wants to control madoka and hates their friends" tired trope, canonically untrue, congrats on falling for the facade put up by a middle schooler.

"homura sees herself as inherently evil and abusive due to her upbringing, past actions, and status as a witch, which is still ongoing even at the end of rebellion" fresh, new, actually closer to canon, doesn't demonize a child for being mentally ill.

[thequeenwechoose]

Daemon & Rhaenyra in 2x01 Hotd

[wishchip106]

sighhh i miss animated cherik i haven’t talked about them in a hot minute

how gay do you gotta be to have matching statues with ur arch-enemy? 🤨

if ur a mutant you immediately become a child of divorce there is no way out of it

hrmmm when Magnus crashed into Charles’s statue knocking it over 🙁

bro they wanted him to be king he would have to look at his ex’s face 24/7 😭😭

unrelated but i need a live action version of this outfit PRONTO (also Charles Xavier booty woah 👀)

is it bad to say his hair looks greasy af ☹️ WASH IT

uhm anyway cherik marriage and divorce confirmed 😁👆

GAWD DAMN I MISS THESE OLD FREAKAZOIDS 😭😭😭

[lyhil]

VSArtParty - Dec Luenwen - @signifiedsatyr Clade / Cladophora - @vert-of-the-wood

[magicalmyu]

the past and the present 🕰️

happy 10th anniversary to yo kai watch 2's release in japan! god, I just love this game so much, hovernyan's been one of my favourite characters for so long and I still remember trying to figure out how to get sailornyan without getting fleshy souls digitally.........

the whole nostalgic vibe of the game really hits different after growing up on this game and realising how much time has passed. I get emotional listening to the ost a lot because of the happy memories attached to it and. god yo kai watch 2 is such a good game and it aged beautifully. i love yo kai watch 2 i love hovernyan i love the old harrisville kids and ill miss them forever

[monotone-artist]

[id in alt]

some idw redraws

[cosmicheartz]

Leaving me here on my own

[rottentome]

I love rewriting mizumono

[ishizizzle]

I have eyes and ears ok I SEE Davrin and I HEAR Lucanis

But mama I am a monster fucker

[residentialsinyomakai]

No context yokai doodles below cut 😋💞

Click for full image shrooekf....a lot of these are oddly shaped :)

[ahamkara-apologist]

Do we know how long Osiris and Saint have been together? Like lore-wise? We're they together before or when Osiris was commander? Or is it fairly more ‘recent’ like Osiris’ exile?

Not sure, honestly! I have to admit to the fact that I'm somewhat of a D2 lore noob- I just recently got interested enough in Destiny to start looking into things past the Eliksni (who got me interested in the game in the first place), so while I have dug into the lore enough to know what's going on + have watched all the seasons of Destiny 2 (that I didn't play) up until the current state of the game, I can't remember exact lore entries off the top of my head just yet. That's something @thefirstknife is better at; rn I'm just here for character analysis and alien specbio

If I had to guess, though, then Saint and Osiris have at LEAST had something going on pre-exile, it's just hard to place exactly when they officially because a couple because the two of them were in the public eye for quite a bit pre-exile, and pair that with the fact that Osiris is an extremely private person (though he was terrible at obscuring the fact that he loved Saint non-platonically if you ask me), you end up with a relationship that had to be under the radar by necessity up until fairly recently. So it's really hard to say when exactly they became a pair, if it was ever even stated in the lore

[blmpff]

✨ Various Tropes: Back Hug (1/?) ✨

TITLES IN ORDER: 1. Some More (2018) 2: Destiny Seeker (2023) 3: I Feel You Linger In The Air (2023) 4: La Pluie (2023) 5: Love Class 2 (2023) 6: Moonlight Chicken (2023) 7: Only Friends (2023) 8: Sing My Crush (2023) 9: April In Tokyo Is... (2023) 10. The Whisperer (2023) 11. Playboyy (2023) 12: Our Dating Sim (2023)