#and that's their dynamic to me they are a rose

[throneofsapphics]

against the contract, chapter one

poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

summary: If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare

warnings: d/s dynamics seen, bondage, bdsm, piercing kink, needles, blood, toys

word count: 2022

a/n: here we go!! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, next chapter comes 10/1 :) series masterlist

There's a type of power in entering a room and having everyone stop to look at you. Rhysand, the devil of Velaris, knew that all too well, and loved every second of it. A man like him was made for the dark and night, but that didn't mean he couldn't shine in it. Tonight, however, someone else was capturing everyone's attention, and he intended to figure out who and what made them so enticing. You’d slowly gained notoriety, and he made it his job to know all players in his city. 

A single question to the right person, someone who recognized him, got him directions to a back room, he entered with his right hand wrapped around Feyre's waist, keeping her flush against his side. Azriel kept pace beside him on the left, a hairsbreadth too close to be just friendly, his shoulder brushing against his every few steps. 

The room they found was bathed in red light, throwing a ... sexual energy over everything. Intentional, he was sure of it. A leather topped platform stood on top of another platform at the front of the room, elevated perhaps two feet or so off the ground. 

Right there, kneeling on the leather, that’s where he got his first glance at you. With your eyes cast downward, hair braided back, hands behind your back, you made the picture-perfect submissive. He couldn't see behind you, but he could imagine you had perfect positioning from that angle as well, either your fingers interlocked, or opposite forearms grasped. He imagined there wasn't much about you that wasn't perfect. 

A dark haired, tanned woman stood before you, circling. You kept perfectly still. He spotted the tray on a small stool to the left. Needles, jewelry, swabs, alcohol wipes, and everything else needed for a piercing. His interest rose more, especially as he noticed Feyre’s head tilt up, her body pushed lightly against his arm as she straightened for a better view. 

You’d never see the three of them, cloaked in darkness as they were but you shone under that spotlight. 

There was no announcement, no grand words as it began, but the quiet clink of a needle caught everyone’s attention. Each bit of this was intentional, he knew it, to wrap someone deep into a web and for once he found himself wanting to let go, to heed resistance, to be swarmed and brought into the fold. 

Rhysand thought he caught the briefest hint of nerves, but the woman’s hand cupped your cheek and you melted. The woman stood behind you, one hand tilting your chin up, leaning down to whisper something in your ear. 

“Yes,” you replied breathily, voice carrying across the room. No honorific, if this woman was your Dominant you would’ve used the title. Rhysand couldn’t help hoping you weren’t claimed. 

She pinched your nipple, her mouth caressing the side of your neck, and he wished it was his hands and mouth on you. Another female came on stage and he watched as the two worked you, twisting the platform to show the elegant double column ties down your arms, tied off to a metal ring on the floor. Your legs were tied individually, your calves flush against the backs of your thighs, tied off to the floor as well. Pinned in place. The separate ties made sense as you spread your legs, revealing a fucking beautiful cunt, folds already glistening. He didn’t bother shifting to hide his hardening cock, especially as Feyre squirmed next to him. He knew Azriel wouldn’t move an inch, just as well as he knew there was no way the male was entirely unaffected by you. 

As the second woman brought out a vibrator and crouched slightly off to the side not to block your view, before clicking a button and pressing it deep against your clit, your teeth dug into your bottom lip, fighting to stay still. The buzzing filled the room, along with your panted breaths. 

The first woman ripped open an alcohol swab, and Rhysand shoved his free hand into his pocket to hide how his fingers curled. Azriel shot him an amused yet still aloof look, and he fought the impulse to roll his eyes like a child might. 

“Stop distracting me,” Feyre hissed and elbowed him. He hadn’t realized he was gripping her so tightly, he loosened his fingers a tad, a brush of guilt creeping in. “Oh stop that,” Feyre placed her hand on top of his. His darling was a sight, as always, clad in a sheer gossamer dress, resting just at her mid-thighs with a plunging neckline. 

He hadn’t realized he’d been stuck staring at her until she spoke again. “You’re about to miss it.” 

Rhysand’s head snapped forward fast enough his vision blurred for a second, clearing just in time to see pure ecstasy crossing your face as the needle pierced your skin. 

“I want her,” Feyre breathed after the second piercing. What or in this case who his Feyre darling wanted, he did his best to be sure she got.

Needles still in both of your breasts, you came with your head thrown back, a silent scream leaving your lips, and his newest obsession was born. 

-

You changed into comfortable clothes, leaving the jewelry in for now. You liked having it in for a few hours after each performance. There was something to be said about solidifying the experience and memory in your mind. 

The door flew open, your lips parted to give a greeting to whoever it might be, but your words froze in your mouth. It was unusual for anyone to re-enter the locker rooms, especially at this time. Comically slowly, you turned around to face the intruder, hand reaching for the knife in your bag. You relaxed as the smell of expensive but not very tastefully applied perfume hit you. 

“Morrigan wants to work with you again next time,” Francine, the club owner, said brusquely, striding into the changing room. You pause. It was strange for her to be in here, stranger to come for something that could’ve been a text. 

“She told me,” you said slowly. The blonde hadn’t said that directly, but she’d said something close enough earlier. 

“One of these days,” Mor tapped your shoulder, “I’ll convince Emerie to scene with both of us.” 

“Poor me,” you groaned over-dramatically, but in reality that sounded quite nice. 

“Excuse me, more like lucky you,” ruby red lips smiled at you over the edge of a wine glass. A sensuous and promising smile. 

A promise you’d quickly take her up on another day, but right now. “I’m out tonight,” you waved a hand over your chest. “Open wounds and all.” 

“Pity,” something, perhaps someone - probably Emerie, distracted the blonde and she pressed a kiss to your cheek before darting off behind you. Figuring that was a good time as any to leave, you tipped the bartender and left. 

Francine rubbed at her nose, shoving her red framed glasses up. Her matching red lips pursed into a frown. “Well. Since you’re here, I told them –  all three of them,” she emphasized, “ that you don’t take contracts, but they insisted on offering to you.” You tried not to show your offense at her scoff. “And that it remained sealed,” she sighed as if it was a massive inconvenience, waving the letter in the air. That caught your attention. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered you a contract, but it would be the first time it made it to you. Usually Francine refused on your behalf, per your instructions, of course. But ... the look on her face. There was a mixture of expectation, and perhaps a hint of fear. You’d never known anything or anyone to scare that overbearing woman before. She ran a sex club for Gods sake. 

Her look implied she expected you to open it there and share. You remembered her scoff, the mocking way she said ‘you.’ No way. The nosy bird didn’t need these particular details. You enjoyed your privacy, and suspected these clients did too. Maybe a contract was just what you needed to take your mind off things, but you knew that would be very different from the ‘performances,’ you usually did a few times a week for the club. Francine liked to call you her ‘greatest discovery.’ You had choicer words for the woman, and generally kept them to yourself. 

You took the sealed envelope from her hand and tucked it into your bag. “I’ll look it over tonight and get back to you tomorrow.” 

A mix of disappointment and relief followed by a tight lipped smile and short nod as she pivoted, stalking from the room. You gave an overly cheery wave behind her back. Better than flipping her off. Too many mirrors. 

You went through your entire getting-home routine first. The Domme or Dom from your scenes always provided excellent aftercare, but it never hurt to love on yourself a little. After a shower, removing the jewelry from earlier and cleaning out the small wounds, a meal, and a couple glasses of water you finally felt ready.

Flipping through it, it looked pretty standard - nothing too crazy or out of the ordinary. Not that you had much knowledge or experience with them, but nothing crazier than what you expected. 

L.1 The Submissive will live with the Dominants for the duration of the contract.

You frowned at the line. Vague. You'd expected perhaps a bit more detail on that, but maybe it would be discussed when you met them. Gods, you really were thinking about taking this contract. Your very first one. 

Your mind wandered as you gazed over the words. If they were ugly, would you back out? You didn't think Francine would offer you a contract with someone especially hideous, but she had hinted they were very much VIP clients. Three of them, too. 

Spine straightening as you made it to the “Rules” section, you bent your head a bit closer to the paper. 

The Submissive will obey any instructions given by the Dominants immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner. The Submissive will agree to any sexual activity deemed fit and pleasurable by the Dominants excepting those activities which are outlined in hard limits (Appendix 2). They will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

Reading through the paper, seeing the official language, sent heat to your stomach. Part of you was turned on by this, the idea of having a semi-legal contract entitling individuals to your submission and you to their dominance. You bounced one leg, there was so much to think about, but it seemed so simple. A voice, one who’d gotten you into both good and bad situations, whispered at you to ‘just take it.’ 

The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominants. The Submissive will conduct themself in a respectful manner at all times, unless otherwise requested.

Unless otherwise requested ... you frowned and highlighted that section. What the hell did that mean? Perhaps some kind of roleplay. You put a question mark next to it. 

There was a section for you to fill in your hard limits, easy enough considering you’d had those memorized for years, having been asked the question frequently enough. 

You flipped back up through, double checking for the section on safewords. Satisfied with “Green, Yellow, and Red,” you didn’t mark anything on that page. 

All of this was thrilling. Invigorating. Lighting an energy you hadn’t felt at this intensity in so, so long. Not since him. 

Ashamedly, what really caught your attention, in the end, was just how much they were willing to pay for your time. You could live comfortably for years off of that sum without having to work. Perhaps this is what would send you straight to hell, but in that moment you didn’t particularly care what they looked like, as long as they obeyed the rules set on paper, so could you. 

-

Azriel, crouched in the shadows on a neighboring roof, watched through your parted blinds as you highlighted and noted the contract. Good girl. 

series taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @yeonalie @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @justasillylittlegoofyguy @aactuaaltraash @hannzoaks @angelbunny222 @​​littlest-w01f @pandabiiissh

acotar taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze

general taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @I-am-a-lost-girl16

[kikithefox231]

YALL. LISTEN. THEYRE THE SAME.

AND SO COMPELLING!!!

[imthepunchlord]

I think that the main problem with Marinette is that she always gets blamed for minor things, but her bigger mistakes are ignored.

She also gets blamed for things that aren't her fault. Like Reverser I blame Nathaniel and his extreme expectations, and Refleckdoll, it was Alya who was making things worse for Juleka while Marinette was trying to help. Gamer's another as she did play fair and square, and won fair and square.

But yeah, ML has an issue with priorities. With the mindset that ONLY Marinette can be at fault, which has her at fault for things that actually aren't her fault or are minor things when there are bigger faults with others; and that, for Marinette's actual faults and issues, they don't focus on the actual problems.

For one thing, Marinette is a perfectionist, in her work and responsibilities, and in how she helps people. This leads to her being meddling and controlling. With good intentions but she can take it far. She even has this idea that only she can be the solution, though more in an Atlas complex way than being egotistical.

Which I'll give the show this, by how it's set up, Adrien and Marinette kinda feed this bad aspect of their dynamic into each other. Adrien goofs around as a hero or doesn't take situations seriously with his flirting at bad times, so Marinette feels like she has to step up more as leader and responsible one, and Adrien doesn't get a chance to take things more seriously or be the leader as Marinette doesn't expect him to, which leads to his frustration of not being as valued as a partner like he wants and he acts out, and Marinette sees she can't rely on him as much and it just cycles.

I know the show sorta tries to address this with the insistence that Marinette can trust Alya and doesn't need to shoulder everything, which is great, if they didn't take it back right away validating Marinette in being right in not trusting Alya.

Which man, that's one of Marinette's actual big issues, and you address it, and then take two steps back and reverse and vindicate the flawful mindset.

Another big issue is her over involving herself in this she doesn't or shouldn't get involved with, meddling included. She could do to ease back, let others solve their own problems. Like, Darkblade comes to mind (though there may be a better example). I do think it was a good episode, but you got Marinette admitting she's already busy, and doesn't want to be class rep, but steps up as no one else is. This is just an added responsibility she doesn't need but does so because she's involving herself in others problems.

This also leads into the other issue: Marinette's tendency to overpile onto her plate. They even focused on this in Gamer 2.0 but instead of doing a lesson of learning to ease up, take a break, and have fun (which Adrien could've been great for, heck, could've had them bond over a busy lifestyle); but nope, she passes Max off to her parents and continue being busy.

And of course, there's the big issue of her crush.

Like, they're 13-14 yos dealing with first crushes, they're going to be cringe and crazy as they don't know how to handle this, but they just take it way too far. And the extremes it's taken isn't even funny but concerning.

Marinette having his schedule.

The hoard of pictures.

Jealousy that spirals to extremes.

And having rose colored view of Adrien, to thinking he can never do wrong and feeling like she needs to protect and assist him, even at the risk of herself (Collector).

Part of the worst part about this is that this exists for the writers' amusement, taking it to unlikable extremes and not portrayed as really bad flaws that need to be addressed or have lessons about; which leads me to question what's the exaggeration and what can be more accurate/reasonable for the cringey, dramatic crush. Some of which could've been fine issues to fault her for and for her to get called out and learn from, but we don't get that, all we get is unpleasantness.

Oh! You could also cover Marinette's lack of prioritizing herself, and may not knowing how to take a break and have fun. Cause I don't know if this girl knows how to relax. And she definitely doesn't behave like a kid, but much older. Could even delve into the friendship problems she has not really connecting with her friends as well because she doesn't know how to be a kid, how to mess around and goof off.

Marinette has a good number of issues and flaws that can be addressed and worked with, but they pick the wrong ones to focus on.

[sitp-recs]

Wield Me by @tackytigerfic (E, 10k)

Drarry, pre-Tedrarry

Draco Malfoy, blacksmith, is renowned through the magical world for his skill and exquisite creations. He could quite easily spend the rest of his days making pretty trinkets for the fae court, and being handsomely rewarded for the privilege. But why take the easy route when instead he could get involved in a dangerous mission with Unspeakable Harry Potter (who also happens to be Draco's... well, he's something, isn't he?). A little story about learning to strike while the iron is hot.

“It’s deep magic, you know. It doesn’t recognize anything quite so specific as a particular location. It’s more conceptual, I suppose. You remember.” He knew they did, the long night of casting, Teddy carelessly throwing azaleas and yellow roses into the quench pool along with all the others; azaleas for homesickness and the desire to return to a place of safety, yellow roses for family. Not to mention all the runework they spent hours working on. Draco rolled his eyes at them. Othala. Harry had traced it over and over in the water, and then Draco had hammered the essence of it into the metal with his sweat and his fire. Homecoming. It would be enough.

Because one birthday rec wasn’t enough I am back, this time reccing the fic Tacky gifted me on my last birthday so we’re coming full circle with the love show :D it’s hard to put into words all the feelings this fic inspired in me. I could not believe my sneaky friend (who’s pretty monogamic about their Drarry btw) had crafted something so special bringing together my two OTPs! I remember reading this in a haze, too eager to unravel that delicious summary and get to the promised Teddy kissing, but also not ready for it to be over after 10k and dreading the emotional devastation that was sure to follow. I realize that Harry/Teddy is not everyone’s jam (yet 😏) and might discourage some people to check this out, so I thought I’d follow my previous rec format and list a few reasons why I loved this so much:

1. The world: I kid you not, 10k feels like 30k once you get introduced to this magical world Tacky so masterfully crafted - vibrant, intriguing, creative, a main character in itself. I was already losing my mind over buff blacksmith Draco in a leather tunic (🥵) but then his stance against weaponry and the magical theory behind his forgery?? What an unexpected (but very much welcome) turn on. I am fascinated by this verse and wanna learn all about Draco’s backstory, about this society, its power structure, about Harry and Teddy’s job and the gritty dangers that Teddy is about to face, and whether or not he’ll find his way back home - back to Harry - safe and sound. So many questions left unanswered and this thrill, an adventurous feeling about their quest that kept me engaged until the end. What a masterclass in world building!

2. The tenderness: as per their trademark, Tacky gives this fic a lot of emotional depth and nuance, showing how easily love can multiply when Harry is the recipient (seeing how wanted he is here makes me feral) while keeping this unmistakably a Drarry romance. 40yo fuck buddies who are so obviously into each other they make me giggle and kick my feet, plus a careful balance between all dynamics in play - Teddy’s crush on Harry and respect for Draco, Draco’s longing for Harry and understanding of Teddy, Harry’s trust in Draco and tenderness for Teddy, the overall affection and sexual tension fueling all those relationships making it impossible not to cheer for them. If you’re a Teddy fan like me you’re in for a treat: I adore his edgy personality, bold, brave, painfully young and so damn lovely, a perfect fit for Harry and Draco’s mellow and steady love.

3. The symbolism: this plays into the exquisite lore created within such elegant and contained writing, I just keep thinking about the possibilities, metaphors, the way recurrent themes like family and homecoming show up in Draco’s forgery work intertwining his, Harry’s and Teddy’s lives in such a definitive way you find yourself thinking “well it must be fate so it can’t be avoided, they gotta bang” 🤷🏻‍♀️ okay so maybe not everyone is horny for this triad as I am, but the implications behind the symbology go beyond lust, diving into something deeper and more meaningful like familial love. And because I’ve read everything else from Tacky’s (“Harry deserves roots” / “I’d be your mate” / “I like my choyse” / “Is tú mo Rogha” / “Queen Anne’s lace, it means sanctuary, home.”) and so on, I can’t help but get emotional here. Harry’s longing for a family is such a quintessential Tacky theme and seeing it expand to include my beloved Teddy in their sacred Drarry kingdom makes my heart sing.

TL;DR: I feel like I could spend days talking about this fic but then nobody would read it and I really, really want more people to fall in love with these clever, competent, brave and lovable characters and with the rich, fascinating world that makes you wish you could live inside it forever and see what happens next. So run don’t walk and go treat yourself today!

[mandoriana]

I love Merlin and Arthur, I've recently been rewriting an old fanfic that I started, and during writing, I realized that Arthur and Merlin closely resemble the relationship of Pink Diamond and Pearl. I brought some evidence with me, I hope you enjoy it:

Similarities:

1. Loyalty and Devotion:

Arthur and Merlin: Merlin is extremely loyal to Arthur, often putting Arthur's safety and well-being above all else. Arthur, in turn, deeply trusts Merlin.

Rose and Pearl: Pearl is devoted to Rose, doing everything she can to protect her and honor her memory.

2. Secrets and Sacrifices:

Arthur and Merlin: Merlin keeps many secrets about his magic to protect Arthur and fulfill his destiny.

Rose and Pearl: Rose hid her true identity as Pink Diamond, and Pearl kept this secret for a long time, which had a significant impact on their lives.

3. Growth and Learning:

Arthur and Merlin: Both grow and learn a lot from each other throughout the series, developing a deep and complex friendship.

Rose and Pearl: Their relationship is also marked by growth and learning, especially for Pearl, who learns to find her own identity after Rose's departure.

Differences:

1. Power Dynamics:

Arthur and Merlin: Arthur is the king and Merlin is his servant, although their relationship goes beyond these roles. There is a clear power dynamic, but also a genuine friendship.

Rose and Pearl: Rose and Pearl have a more equal relationship in terms of power, although Pearl often puts herself in a position of voluntary servitude out of love and devotion.

2. Nature of the Relationship:

Arthur and Merlin: Their relationship is often interpreted as a deep and loyal friendship, with some interpretations suggesting a romantic subtext.

Rose and Pearl: Their relationship is explicitly romantic and emotional, with Pearl having deep and lasting feelings for Rose.

I brought these comparisons just to start writing some tragic and adorable quotes from Merlin as Pearl and Arthur as Rose.

[vamp-a-day]

day 72

Sweet & Fickle

roughly 3 years ago i redrew sparkling from that one official tweet and plopped vamp in there too bc you can never have too much vampire

absolutely hate the way they're posed in this old drawing, vamp with the autism stance and sparkling before i'd actually established what i wanted his personality to be outside of canon's simple characterization. 3 years doesn't feel like it should be a long time ago but man.

[cyber-corp]

I absolutely love the relationship between John and Rose, because of how well John’s gooberness and Rose’s wit gel together when they interact.

They ping-pong off each other's quips and jokes, but they still both care about each other. Definitely not a romantic relationship, more like a "i've known this person for so long that I can read them like an open book" kind of relationship. Pesterchums, even.

I want a fanfic where it’s just these two on a road trip or something.

[shitpostingkats]

Now I haven’t played Apollo Justice but from what I gather Apollo is very iconic because an international celebrity rockstar basically threw himself at his feet like “I am head over heels for you, wanna date????” and Apollo (rightfully) went “This is a murder trial????”

[r0setyler]

one thing about me is that i ship timepetals in it's entirety, a timepetals multishipper you may say:

ninerose romantic? sign me up. elevenrose queer platonic relationship? sure i'm locked in. fiverose bad wolf stuff? why not sounds fun. thirteenrose sapphic pining? yep babe i'm there. twelverose toxic yearning? i'm sold.

[drrav3nb]

CHYNA & EDDIE GUERRERO RAW IS WAR (Aug 17, 2000)

(cred to FullWithDivas for the videos!)

Bonus:

[grimme-and-specs]

You know I had to do it to 'em too

Bonus:

EDIT, 2024-4-5:

If this gets to 213 notes before 4-13 I will personally redraw this earlier than planned.

[darlingcloudie-9]

oough………. my babies………….. i care for them very much 🌸

[stvnszlr]

i DESPERATELY need more people to talk about this duo omfg

[muchmossymess]

Autistic rizz but it's just making people infatuated with your psyche

[clockwork-ashes]

Daylight

The smallest of stones, the greatest of ripples.

Summary: Eris learns that Lucien is not Beron's son (one-shot).

Eris paced the small room, his steps soundless. Barefoot, ready for bed, cold rough stone to warm soft carpet. Over and over, again and again, a comfort. 

The smell of copper, sharp like night blooming flowers, hung in the air. Eris noticed that he had bitten through the inside of his cheek. He traced the wound with his tongue, the salt and metal of his blood enough to ground him, to clear his mind.  

Eris took a deep breath. He knew all the flames of this world, it was his birthright. Centuries he had lived, had witnessed much, gained enough wisdom. 

Eyes like gold, glowing unlike any fire made of Autumn, Eris had seen only a glimpse of it and had known. Magic was ancient, but simple, responding like a trained hound to those who had taken the time to learn its secrets. Stoked to life in the court he had been raised in, Eris would have recognised the flames as his own. 

Daylight. 

Sunbright, lovely, Lucien’s eyes had been twin stars in the darkness. 

It had taken every ounce of self control Eris possessed not to rear back at the sight, a death sentence. 

An oath taken, a promise made in blood, Eris had nearly forgotten. His mother’s hands, claws as she had gripped his arm, begged her eldest son to grant her strange request. Everything had been made clear as Eris had silently watched the Lady of Autumn gently stroke Lucien’s curls from his face, eyes half-lidded and gold only like sunlight could be. 

Small for his age and precious as all fae children were, Lucien was coddled by everyone in the Forest House.  

Half a decade, nothing in the grand scheme of things, and yet enough to change everything. The smallest of stones, the greatest of ripples. 

The flames in the fireplace flared, Eris tugged at the short strands of blood red hair at the nape of his neck. He felt like he was drowning, his head already below the water’s surface, Eris choked on his own fear. 

“Eris, please.” His mother’s voice was quiet, a tremor in her words as she took to begging him once more. For what, Eris did not know, and in the moment he could not be bothered to care. 

Eris whirled around to face her, smaller than he remembered, the Lady of Autumn looked up at her son. His fear was reflected in her eyes, the weight of knowing that an executioner’s axe hung just above Lucien’s head. 

“How could you?” Eris snarled, the words biting, accusatory. Never had he spoken to his mother in such a way, the softest of tones always reserved for her. 

She shook her head, loose strands falling from her braid and framing her thin face. Defeated, her shoulders curved as she curled in on herself. Eris hoped she felt guilty. “You wouldn’t understand,” she murmured, dismissive and soft.

A strangled laugh, short and unamused, was dragged from deep within Eris. His mother took a careful step towards him, and Eris took a measured step back. Closer in age than half his brothers, Eris had always understood the Lady of Autumn. “Six sons were not enough?” Eris snapped harshly.

“All children are a blessing,” she did not look at Eris as she said it, more to herself than to him anyway. 

Eris wondered if those were the words his mother had told herself when she had first married the High Lord. A half truth quietly whispered when she had been alone, but not entirely convincing despite how often it was said.   

“A fate worse than death awaits him,” Eris argued, sure that flames had come to life in his amber eyes, voice louder. “You’re lucky father is in Spring, or Lucien would be dead already.”

“You don’t know that,” hands clenched into fists at her side, the Lady of Autumn raised her own voice to match.

Eris felt as the temperature in the room changed, uncomfortably hot, the flames in the fireplace and in the torches along the wall responding to the raging emotions of them both. “It’s cruel,” he hissed, “it’s wrong.” 

A child born of an affair, Lucien was well and truly doomed, and who else was Eris to blame but the Lady of the Autumn Court.

“And you know much about cruelty,” the condemnation was clear in the tone his mother used. 

If Eris had taken a moment to think, to consider how worried and frightened she was, perhaps he would have known to stop their argument. Instead, Eris pointed a shaking finger, angry, at the female that had raised him as best she knew how. “And whose fault is that?” The question was bitter, all poison, meant to hurt. 

“You can be so much like your father.” 

The last word a growl, the statement hung between them. Eris would have rather she had taken a knife to his chest. 

Almost as though the Lady of Autumn had struck him, Eris flinched back. 

With a startled gasp, eyes wide in shock and lips parted, his mother put out her hand. Regret, clear as river water, flashed on her sharp features. But the words had been said. “Eris,” she took a step towards him, “I didn’t–” 

The door opened suddenly, the ancient hinges screaming in protest, cutting her sentence short. Eris was glad for it, wished he had not come home, would have preferred the war camps to this. 

Eris had assumed the door was locked, panic coursed through his veins as he wondered who might have heard. Relief, like rain during a drought, came over Eris as Lucien walked into the room. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard, Eris and his mother silent. 

Eyes half shut with sleep, russet once more, Lucien dragged his bare feet along with a small blanket behind him. Eris watched as he rubbed at his eyes with one hand, as he broke into a little yawn.

“Ris?” He mumbled, voice heavy. “I thought I heard your voice.” 

Eris watched as his mother moved towards her youngest son, expecting him to go to her. Instead, Lucien made his way to Eris, nearly tripping on the blanket he had brought with him. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Eris barely recognised his own voice. 

With a half-hearted shrug, Lucien knocked into Eris’s legs. “I heard you talking in the hall,” another yawn before he continued, “You didn’t come say goodnight.” Completely trusting and entirely unaware of all that had happened moments before he had entered the room, Lucien clung to Eris. 

The Lady of Autumn watched with wary eyes as Eris lifted Lucien into his arms gently. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He murmured. 

Lucien merely hummed his response, tired. Resting his head on Eris’s shoulder, his breaths slowing once more. 

Eris could see the pleading on his mother’s face, but he did not look at her long. He turned his attention to the arched window, watching the first rays of the sun inching over the horizon.  

Daylight.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

What can I say? They're my favorite.