#firehcart

[wickedpeachie]

@firehcart

Returning to London had not been on Rowan Whitethorns list of musts, and yet. . . His aunt grew impatient with a lack of an heir for his fortune. The duty as a Duke, meant he had obligations…one that had been left empty when his wife had been taken by the plagues nearly five years prior. Now, at the age of 25…the expectation to take a second wife was higher than ever. A duchess to stand at his side, to host the balls he loathed and be apart of the society he had withdrawn from.

Rowan grunted as his footman announced his arrival, not the first ball of the season but the third. The first two he had missed, after hearing some unfavorable gossip about his return; and scar on the side of his face. It was not grotesque, but it reached from the tip of his ear downward to his jaw. A reminder of a battle fought, won but men lost. Most looked upon it unfavorably, and he’d since grown his hair out to at least attempt to hide it. If he was truly to find a wife, she’d grow to accept the mark…but it did him no favors when attempting to begin a conversation. His well muscled frame crept out the carriage, a signature scowl on his face.

Rowan detested the ton, how they spoke of his wife after her passing…of him when he was spotted just a few weeks ago. It coiled something ugly in his stomach, but he could not act so dour. He forced a mask of neutrality, straightening his coats before he entered into the masses.

It was time to find the Duchess of Whitethorn.

[folkorae]

@firehcart liked for a starter with Nehemia !

“ I have always been curious about what you read. ” She’s right by Celaena’s side on the couch, an open book in her hands. Nehemia has read almost fifty pages in and she is . . . intrigued. “ Hm. ”

[cthoniian]

elide : no one is going to hurt you . do you know why ? because i'll hurt them first .

she's   promised   more   than   vengeance,   she's   promised   protection.   but   there's   a   crease   between   her   brows   as   she   reaches   for   her   queen's   hands,   callused   and   coarse   from   the   work   she's   done   for   years   --   there's   more   strength   in   the   delicate   fingers   than   one   would   expect.   there   are   tears   fighting   past   her   lashes,   but   she   holds   them   back.   her   voice   doesn't   quaver   as   she   looks   up   to   aelin's   gaze.

'   i   know.   aelin   i   know.   but   --   you   don't   have   to   save   me.   i   can  do   it   myself.   i   learned   how.   and   --   for   the   record,   you   don't   have   to   save   everyone   else   either.   let   us   --   save   you   sometimes.   even   if   it's   just   in   the   little   ways.   alright?   '

that   same   gentle   touch   raises   to   cup   aelin's   cheek,   the   other   to   brush   away   the   strands   of   loose   golden   silk   hair.   so   reminiscent   of   her   mother.   of   the   love   marion   had   so   generously   and   unashamedly   given,   and   despite   it   all   --   the   daughter   has   it   in   her   to   give   it   too.

'   we   love   you   aelin   --   you'll   never   have   to   do   the   hard   things   alone   again.   '

ask prompt answer for @firehcart // from elide lochan.

[deathsconsort]

( sora uses : UNO REVERSE! ) ☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs - it's time to spread positivity !

🥰🥰 soraaaa you already know how much i love you and your aelin. not only are you one of the nicest ppl i've met here, but you're also such a talented writer and i love writing with you and reading everything you write

[prince1ing]

‘ that was my first time as a fashion ‘don’t’ and i did not care for it. ’ | @firehcart

HEAD TIPPED BACK, he let out a laugh. it rumbled in his chest; the feeling. dorian kept pace with the girl as they walked down the hall, " i suppose a prisoner's closet is not spacious. very drab. " he grinned down at her before nudging her with his shoulder, " at least now you can wear anything you want to. or nothing at all, should you so choose it. "

[zoklaanogar]

it is with bated breath that he waits , one hand resting atop the carved wolf - head pommel of his sword , the other anxiously tapping fingertips in a one , two , three rhythm against the wooden top of the table. his grey - eyed stare has yet to leave the door ──── eager to spot the knob as it turns , as the door opens to reveal just a glimpse of that head of golden hair. aedion had told him the story ──── the heir to the throne thought lost had adopted the identity of celaena sardothian , the infamous assassin - turned - king’s - champion. it had ANGERED the white wolf , having heard stories of the young woman galavanting through rifthold , basking in her newfound riches , forgetting those left behind in the north. jon had lost his father and older brother in the war , hadn’t seen nor heard from his two younger sisters or two younger brothers. he’d been left ALONE , believing his betrothed had lost her life all those years ago , fighting for the place they had once called home.

for aelin to have waited so long to reveal that she had SURVIVED . . . what had changed ? what had happened that forced her to finally face what she had left behind ?

jon clenches his jaw , gaze finally leaving that damned door. so many emotions stir within him ──── anger , betrayal , distrust , excitement , worry , relief . . . he isn’t sure if he would like to shake his childhood friend by her shoulders and demand an explanation , or embrace her. it will come to him in the moment , he supposes. and until she walks through that door , the white wolf will continue to ponder his actions and what he will say.

a plotted starter for @firehcart

[deathfcks]

“ i just want to feel something. “

grief isn't numbing. its the noise that grief creates. the incessant roaring whining aching growling sounds that defy human understanding and create within you - a pit. and that echoing hole that isn't silent either. every loss is added to that hole, and the noise just increases.

he knows. there's a ravine within him where everything is stored. every fear. every griefstricken moment. every fear. only kept at the forefront is survival & what it takes. a sharp inhale as she speaks, those are dangerous words. he wonders if she knows in what way she means them. depthless eyes, ringed in the flickers of shadows turn to her --

' i'm assuming you've tried the two f's. fighting or fucking. '

there's something dry about the tone, but he lifts a wing - making room beside him on the small bench he occupies. staring out over a landscape so different from the one he's used to, but somehow so very dear to him.

' sit then. '

and when she does, that tentative obliging, disguised of course with bravado -- it wouldn't be her if she didn't. he lets his wing cloak her figure, the shadows diffusing her shape, to anyone who walked by - she isn't there. but his hand raises to brush the loss tendrils of golden silk hair from her face before massaging the tension at her neck.

' sometimes the only way to feel something, is to let the nothing take over. then breathe. '

prompt reply for // @firehcart

[oakthcrn]

CAN i request 10 - 15 answered?

Edgy/misc OC ask meme ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ accepting // @firehcart

What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

I think it would be fun that in an acotar au that Lark gets yeeted into the cauldron. Idk it seem like a chaotic good time.

What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Swords, girl loves a good sword!

Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?

She absolutely is. Though in a subtle way. She might not be consciously aware of it. She blames herself for Caelum's death, and because of that, she doesn't think she is worthy of love, or friendship. So she keeps everyone at arm's length. She learns to deal with things on her own and doesn't voice her concerns. She doesn't let alone in. She doesn't allow anyone to touch her because if she does, she'll crumble.

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

I would think so! We're both introverts and don't like talking to people, so we'd probably enjoy comfortable silences.

How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

Strong. Independent. Reliable. Self Sufficient. Impenetrable. Kind.

Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

Yes! The beautiful Daisy Ridley in her role as Ophelia!

[kaerinio]

@firehcart sent me a super sweet thing: ☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs - it's time to spread positivity !

SORA PLS, i need you to know that i adore you so much, and literally every single time i see you, i am so hearteyes!

[riderheart]

"i’m aware of your reputation."

 Violet  almost  flinched.  There  were  too  many  facets  to  her  reputation.  The  one  she  had  with  the  healers  for  being  broken,  the  one  she  had  with  her  professors  for  lacking  control,  the  one  she  had  with  the  Marked  Ones  for  her  mothers  actions...  Her  brows  furrowed  with  an  pained  expression. Which one exactly had @firehcart heard and absorbed?

   "Which  part?"

[ircnwrought]

@firehcart liked for a short ttpd inspired starter (elide) !!

__________☾         GRIEF     IN     ITS     PUREST     FORM     ETCHES     ITSELF     ACROSS     HER     FACE.        it    is    a    rare    instance    for    her    anger    to    give    way    to     ...      this     (     to   admit   the   lost   hopes,     the   lost   dreams   she   had   in   one   so   near     )       ❛    he   said   he'd   love   me   all   his   life.  ❜      but    that    life    was    too    short.     killed   by   lorcan's   own   dagger   the   day   he   betrayed   the   queen.      betrayed    her.        dead  &&    gone  &&    buried.      they    are    nothing    but    ash    now.

[wickedpeachie]

@firehcart Popstar && The Bodyguard

The pink metal mic felt cool to the touch, and Elain felt the stage light click on as they began counting her in. A live performance for a talk show, the last one for a few weeks until she began touring again. Her stomach twisted as the music began, fingers twirling a curl before releasing it to place it alongside her other hand. Her lips parted, beginning the song. The music vibrated around her, brown eyes shutting as she began to lose herself in the music.

"Think I'm gonna call it off Even if you call it love"

Elain opened her eyes, her foot tapping softly along with the music as she continued. Her lips widening into a smile as the song progressed, her hand briefly pressing over her heart as the lyrics flowed.

"And when you think about me, all of those years ago You're standing face to face with "I told you so""

Elain inhaled softly, holding the note as the chorus came in. Her eyes sparkled as they came to the end, her gaze briefly flickering over to her current security guard. Celaena. If Elain was being honest, her crush on her security guard was slowly driving her insane. Considering they were nearly attached at the hip, and it was maddening trying to figure out if Celaena had even glanced at her in a way that wasn't because she was paid. Slipping from her seat, Elain offered a few final waves before exiting.

Beaming at the other, her brow arched. "What did you think?"

[twistedtangledfate]

Lysandra nodded her head, humming in agreement. She didn't want to speak too deeply on that particular subject because what could start out as fairly light with a touch of well deserved confidence bordering on arrogance could easily devolve into something that she didn't want to experience. There was a time and place for her pain and this wasn't it.

She considered Aelin's option, only the slightest touch of feigned disgust in her expression at the state of Aelin's nails. "It helps that most of the men in this city have the average intelligence of a child." Lysandra's words were a drawl as she, quite deliberately, chose a different chocolate to the one Aelin had recommended. "I prefer raspberry." She explains, selecting the raspberry ganache and popping it into her mouth.

She chewed on the chocolate, enjoying the burst of sweet flavour in her mouth, as she considered Aelin's question. How much detail did she want? Could she handle the pain of old wounds being reopened this close to the enacting of their plan?

"He did, to a select few. You and Sam were the examples." It was a simplification, the barest amount of information given. For once, it wasn't the natural state of a courtesan withholding information until an appropriate time that motivated her. She considered Aelin a close friend now and that had the unfortunate side effects of meaning she actually cared about Aelin and her feelings.

Lysandra shrugged. She was willing to listen when there was such a comfortable place to sit, such tasty delights to eat and Evangeline seemed so settled. They probably shouldn't have lingered as long as they did but she had taken great care to ensure that they had not been seen entering Aelin's home. If they weren't seen arriving then no one would question how long they were there for. It was simple really and yet the execution required needed to be as close to perfect as possible.

"I was planning to do this anyway." She retorted, engaging in the dance that had become familiar to them, scoring over all the previous years when they had been as far from friends as was possible. Times changed, they had both changed, and neither of them were running away. They were facing their problems head on, women doing it for themselves and for those who needed them and didn't even know it.

"You can try but you will fail. I might not have claws anymore but my nails can be be sharp enough." Lysandra narrowed her eyes slightly before returning to the box of chocolate, her finger tracing a pattern in the air as she decided which treat to devour next.

[cthoniian]

xaden riorson is not accustomed to looking out for those not scarred upon his back. there's a deal he's made. he'll look out for that when the time comes. but this? this is a suicide mission. he recognises the girl from the drifts when he's delivered weapons to syrena. remembers the bright hair and the eyes that flash with golden fire ring'd round the iris. he's spent too long in the company of the gryphon riders to not recognise her use of the little sorts of magics, as well as the runes she's depending on to function here beneath the protection of the wardstone.

eyes watch her like a hawk, distrusting her, and this place -- he swears he cares for nothing except the people he protects. but when dragonfire is pouring across the open pathway due to a paltry third year squabble. he's grabbed her and thrown her back, his body covering hers with a split second reaction. this earns him an elbow to the jaw and a knee to somewhere delicate.

' for fuck sake! i was fucking helping you! '

my hero . now fuck off. // xaden & aelin // @firehcart

[deathsconsort]

@firehcart continued from here

“clarisse. sam–” she sighs heavily, it’s not often that she talks about him because the grief can be overwhelming. grief, she learned, was weird like that. sometimes she could talk about him and the fond memories without crying while other times just the mention of his name will leave her in tears. there’s times where she will be doing something that has nothing to do with her brother and the grief will strike her so harshly as if she was slapped in the face. it’s been years and his death still pains her greatly, perhaps because she knows his death was unfair. he should still be alive and that is what tears at her heart. “sam’s death will never get easier, i’ve accepted that. what makes me feel somewhat better is knowing that he’s in a better place and free from this hellhole. free from the monster he was chained to.”

her feet dangle off the ledge and for a moment she allows herself to think what will become of her if she simply fell. she could be with her brother again and their mother, the three of them could be a family again. clarisse wouldn’t be a problem anymore, she would be free and that’s all nesta longed for. she closes her eyes tightly, shaking herself from those thoughts because she knew sam wouldn’t want her to do such a thing. her fingers grip the ledge tighter, turning her knuckles white. “after being with clarisse for so long you stop feeling like a human, your life starts feeling meaningless. i can’t deal with that, i can’t handle my existence being solely for the pleasure of men.” there was no hope of freedom for nesta, not for a very long time thanks to clarisse putting her mother’s debts onto her as well. she huffs an unamused laugh, “you know, i don’t even know which one is worse; clarisse or if arobynn honored my mother’s wishes and took me in as well. i guess i was shit out of luck no matter what.”

her head quickly snaps to celaena. in all of the world this woman next to her cared for sam as much as she did. when so many others had forgotten about him and seemed okay to let his memory die with him, the two of them were not. and with how much sam loved celaena, it made nesta look at her in almost a sisterly way. there was a steely look in her eyes, “i’ll help you. whatever you need from me, i’ll do it.” her thumb brushes the brand on her wrist, that determination still set in her eyes. arobynn had never hid his advances on nesta, from the longing glances, to the flirting, to the touches that lasted longer than they should. he made her sick to her stomach, but if she had to entertain him in order for him to give up the location of her brother’s grave she’ll do it. “i’ll sleep with him if that’s what it takes to find out where sam’s buried.”

[zoklaanogar]

[ COVER ]:    sender lunges forward to throw their body over the receiver and shield them from harm during a fight.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆/𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆.

he stares at the male with blood red eyes , unblinking as cairn reels back his leg , aiming to kick the direwolf's side. jon , warged into his direwolf companion , bares his fangs at the male , though he make no other move ──── still under that damned order given by maeve , allowed to move ONLY when ordered by either the queen or her sadistic warrior.

but a body , bloodied from an abruptly ended torture session , is suddenly atop him. cairn's boot makes contact with the young woman's back ──── jon's eyes widen , a whimper of terror slipping through his maw. aelin ! he wants to scream. aelin , no ! but he cannot even move to protect her. all he can do is WATCH.