#please let me know if i need to be tagging anything else with these posts i am trying my best o7

[14dayswithyou]

Give Redacted a kiss for me!!!

Do you have any dark/creepy headcanons for Redacted? I’m very curious ^^

✦゜ANSWERED: I know you asked for [REDACTED] specifically, but everything mentioned below could also apply to Ren as well ^^;

cw: mentions of gore, torture, (one line about) cannibalism, NSFW themes, and just general creepy behaviour

I'm sure most people already know about Ren's red room days, but for the newer folks: he used to livestream himself torturing his victims on the dark web. He would also harvest and sell their organs for extra cash.

His red room phase began after a group of upperclassmen started livestreaming themselves bullying people (Angel included) for attention online. If those teens wanted a taste of online fame that badly, Ren would be all too happy to give it to them — especially after he heard all the degrading things they said about Angel during their stream.

Ren has probably sniffed (licked???) Angel's underwear on multiple occasions lmao

He also keeps a bunch of their discarded cups, mugs, bottles, etc. — and on the days when he's feeling especially lonely — Ren likes to put his lips where Angel's would've been and treat it like it's an indirect kiss.

If Angel is fine with it, Ren would be more than willing to carve his name into their skin. He'd have to use an ample amount of his numbing cream though (typically reserved for when he gives himself tattoos and piercings), since he doesn't want them to be in any pain.

Similarly, he'd also be willing to carve their name into his skin as well — as many times as Angel would want. But he already has multiple tattoos of their name on his skin, so.... gksgsjj

I'm sure everyone already knows this, but Ren has an entire shrine dedicated to Angel. He keeps all his sentimental and stolen items there.

Ren genuinely has no empathy for anyone other than Angel, so if they were to ask him to murder his own mother (or his sister, his best friend, etc.) and bring back their heart, he'd do it with a smile on his face.

Because he has no empathy, Ren would probably enjoy watching snuff films like it's any other B-tier horror film. To him, it's just more research material on how he can get rid of his competition.

I've mentioned this in the past, but Ren has jacked off to the thought of Angel while in the library lol

I made a post back in 2022 that mentioned how Ren would willingly offer up any of his body parts to a cannibal!Angel, and I think the point still stands!!

He likes to put Angel's stolen laundry on his body pillow and rut into/hump it 😟

I once mentioned that Ren would slap a barcode sticker on his sledgehammer to make it look less... questionable whenever he carries it around in broad daylight — but alongside that, I think he'd also carry around some tools and an unopened can of paint to make it seem like he's just doing renovations. In reality, he'd probably force his victims to drink paint or gargle nails teehee

Builder AU except Ren mistook a body for plywood??? Why is he hammering so many nails into them?? Why is he feeding it into a wood chipper???

Builder AU except Ren gives Angel a different meaning to getting nailed and railed???????? Jackhammering???????? Getting screwed sideways????? KGJDSGNK It's 2AM I'm losing da plot now T_T I'll shut up

[teenagenutant]

a fic that has made me laugh and has very, very much made me cry just updated... so i drew about it! power up by @pickledcarrotsandradish!! wahoo!!!

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[impostorsshow]

I'm actually so obsessed with him it's not even funny if i'm not listening to a TikTok or music directly related to him I can't focus free me free me

This is @/cherubpuppet's OC for a object show [au? pitch? wip show? How do I categorize this] and I've been destroyed by the fact that ruler art is infinitely superior [and 10x longer] and i don't have a good enough grasp on lip gloss's personality to make fanfiction so I am frozen in "want make fanart but fanart takes effort :["

[geode-crystal]

@whumperofworlds this one is for you!

Characters involved:

Whumpee: Darius, "the Shining Knight"

Caretaker: Mianu, "the Lost Prince."

Some random Whumper idk

Contents: kidnapping, restraints (chains), a little bit of torture, a little bit of blood, a whole lot of angst

--------------

The prince’s quest was noble. No one could deny that. Noble, but very, very dangerous. And Darius had sworn—both to his prince and to himself—that he would protect Mianu with his life.

Prince Mianu’s self-assigned mission was meant to be kept secret. His identity was meant to be secret. No one, aside from those who needed to, was supposed to know he had even left his kingdom. It didn’t matter that he was still trying to set right what had once gone wrong. They were all aware of the risks. Of what might happen if someone found out he was royalty.

Darius was never going to forgive himself when he got out of this.

If he got out of this.

The first thing Darius had done when he was alert enough to be fully aware of his situation was fight against his chains.

This was a living nightmare.

Everything that had led to his capture came back to him in a rush. It had all been too simple. Too easy. He was supposed to be better than this. But a simple ambush had been all that it took. He’d allowed himself to get distracted. He’d been naive enough to let Mianu wander a few feet out of his sight. And he’d been jumped. Just like that.

Darius had put up a fight. But it wasn’t enough. All too soon, the world had gone dark.  

And now… here he was. Chained in enemy territory. No armor. No weapon.

Darius had been through a lot in his life. But had never felt so exposed and vulnerable.

He had to get out of there before anything else happened.  

His training ran through his mind. Don’t make any noise, don’t alert the enemy to your presence… but the enemy already knew he was here. Hells, they put him here. Find something to use to your advantage… but the tiny, dark room he had been thrown into was completely empty. And his hands were chained high above his head. Of course, there were cuffs around his ankles, too, despite being dumped awkwardly on the floor, left on bruised knees. He could barely move, let alone investigate.

Really, guard training had much more to say about avoiding getting into these situations than what you should do to get out of them.

He would have to complain about that later.

“Oh, good. You’re awake. I was starting to think my crew had been too rough on you.”

Darius went rigid. He’d never heard that voice before, but he knew that tone too well. His eyes quickly scanned the little room. Nothing. It looked empty. Felt empty.

Darius hissed out a rather un-knightly word. Magic. The one thing he couldn’t defend against.

“Who are you?” he shouted. “Show yourself!”

He could have sworn his captor was smirking. “Well, if you insist.”

There was a soft sound, like a curtain being drawn. And then someone stood before him. Nearly towering over him. A bandit or a mercenary, by the looks of her clothing and the dagger at her belt. A successful one at that. She was practically littered with rings, her belt embedded with gemstones. A pendant with a golden chain dangled from her hand.

Darius’ breath caught in his throat.

That was his pendant. The one that Mianu had given him. One of a matching pair, enchanted so they could keep in contact even if they were apart. So they could find each other when they needed to.

Seeing it in that woman’s hands made his blood boil.

“Who are you?” Darius snapped.

The mercenary raised an eyebrow. “You’ve used that one already. I’d hoped a royal knight would be more versed in the art of conversation than that.”

No. No. This wasn’t just some random kidnapping. She knew exactly who he was.

“Whatever it is you want, you’re not going to get it,” Darius said as firmly as he could.

But how? They’d been so careful not to be recognized...

The woman made a soft sound, almost a laugh. “Alright. I’ll play along. What, exactly, makes you think I want something from you?”

Dread seeped into Darius’ heart. He refused to let it show. He glared daggers at his captor, surging against his bonds as though he could break free by sheer force of will. His wrists were definitely mangled at that point. He didn’t care.

“If you wanted me dead, I would be by now,” he hissed. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”

“True.” The woman still spoke as though they were chatting about dinner. “But I have something else in mind.”

She took a single step forward. Darius stayed frozen, torn between trying to back up and trying to lunge forward again. He knew both options were stupid and pointless, anyway. But he wanted to do something. Anything, to try to get out of this, to try to get back to Mianu before his captor did something much worse than just knocking him out and chaining him up…

But the woman only dangled the pendant in front of him. The deep emerald in the center shone, even in the dark room.

“What a fancy little toy you have,” the woman sneered. “Not something an ordinary knight carries around, hmm?”

All of his instincts told him to turn away. To hide. But Darius refused to back down. He couldn’t show any weakness. Not now.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied.

The gemstone flashed again.

The woman rolled her eyes. “Please. I daresay I know more about magic than the likes of you. Which is exactly why I need your darling little prince.”

Darius couldn’t keep his expression steady this time.

This was exactly what he’d been afraid of.

“What did you do with him?” Darius’ voice was far too soft for his own comfort.

And the woman had the gall to laugh. “Nothing. Not yet, anyway.” 

“If you’re expecting me to help hurt him—”

“No need to worry yourself over that,” the woman cut him off. “No harm will come to him. Or you, for that matter, as long as you both behave.”

“I will never do what you ask,” Darius snapped.

The woman’s smile was heartless. Sickening. “No need to be so modest. You’re already playing your part wonderfully.”

And abruptly, Darius understood.

Whoever this woman was, she didn’t have Mianu. But she needed him. Everything had been a trap... but for Mianu. Darius was only the bait.

He’d rather die than get Mianu mixed up in this madness.

“It won’t work,” he said firmly. “Whatever you want, he’ll never give into your demands.”

“Won’t he?”

The woman’s tone was still cool. Confident. She was utterly convinced she had already won.

“We’ve all seen how… fond the poor little lost prince is of his dashing knight,” she went on. “Hard to blame him. What a handsome face.”

She gripped his chin, twisting his head this way and that. Darius jerked free.

“Whatever sick game you’re playing—”

“Oh, enough,” the woman snapped. “Don’t you have anything better to say? Besides, we don’t need him, really. Just his magic. I’ve heard the princeling has a certain affinity for working in the shadows.”

Darius’ heart could have stopped beating and he wouldn’t have noticed.

“No… no,” he choked out. “He won’t—you can’t.”

He struggled against his chains again, knowing full well it was useless. He didn’t care. He couldn’t let Mianu use that dark magic again. Mianu had sworn he would never call on the shadows again. The magic was powerful, but dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. Mianu had almost lost an arm to those dark powers. He’d nearly lost himself. If he fell into that darkness again…

Darius couldn’t lose him. Not like that.

“You can’t make him use that magic,” he said almost desperately. “I won’t let it happen.”

“That is not for you to decide,” his captor snapped.

She straightened up, holding the pendant closer. It kept flashing. Mianu was desperately trying to contact his knight. And the mercenary knew it.

“Let’s send him a little message, shall we?” she smirked.

She ran her thumb over the face of the gem. And instantly, the flashing changed to a solid glow. Mianu’s voice filled the air.

“Darius? Darius, are you there? Where are you? What happened?”

“Good evening, little prince,” she said with a smirk.

The panic and desperation in his voice made Darius’ heart fracture. But he stayed silent. It was the only weapon he had.

Of course, his captor had other plans.

Mianu’s reply was instant. “Who are you? How did you get his pendant? What did you do to him?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said the mercenary. “He’s right here with me. I promise he’s all in one piece. And if you want him to stay that way, then you’ll come and meet us. Alone.”

“Prove it,” Mianu demanded. “Prove that he’s there. Alive.”

The silence from the pendant was deadly.

Then...

The woman shrugged. “A reasonable request. Darius, dear, won’t you say ‘hello’ to your prince charming?”

If glares could kill, the woman would have fallen on the spot. But Darius said nothing.

The woman sighed. “Have it your way, then.”

There was a brief flash of light. A single whispered word. Darius had no idea what spell hit him. But it felt like a knife slicing right into his side. It must have made a seeious cut. He could feel the sting of it. Could feel the blood slowly soaking his tunic.

But aside from a quick gasp, far too soft for the pendant to pick up, he made no sound.

The woman clucked her tongue, as though chiding a small child. “You’re only making this more difficult for yourself, you know.”

Darius still said nothing. Not aloud. But in his heart, he screamed out, as though Mianu could hear his silent prayers.

Don’t listen to her, Mianu. Just run. Don’t let her get to you. It doesn’t matter what she does to me, as long as you’re safe…

His captor scowled. She closed the distance between them in a few strides. And she kicked him, hard. Right in the gash she had just made under his ribcage.

Darius screamed. He couldn’t help it. The cry was forced from him as easily as the air was forced from his lungs.

Mianu swore. “Darius! Just hold on. I’ll find you. I’ll get you out of there, I promise.”

“No!” Darius’ shout was more like a cough. “Mianu, don’t! Stay away! She’s going to—”

He was cut off with another cry as his captor delivered another sharp kick. Darius was nearly doubled over at this point. If it weren’t for the chains holding him up, he would have crashed to the floor.

“You’d better hurry, princeling,” the mercenary sneered. “Or your knight in shining armor will face far, far worse than that.”

“If you touch him again, I swear you will pay,” Mianu growled.

“And if you try any tricks, he’ll be the one to suffer for it,” the mercenary replied colly. “See you soon, your highness.”

She ran her thumb along the gem again, cutting off the connection. Then she tossed it over her shoulder. It clattered to the floor in some hidden corner of the room... where it distinctly cracked. Darius winced. He hadn’t just failed to protect his prince. He’d managed to lose an important gift from him, too.

He was a failure. As a knight. As a partner.

The mercenary’s eyes flashed. She looked almost like a kid on her favorite holiday.

“Well done,” she hissed.  “You played your part perfectly. Just like I told you.”

And something inside of Darius snapped. He forced himself as upright as he could get. It took much more effort than he would ever admit. And he couldn’t get his breathing steady. He hated himself for being so weak, for nearly crumbling after so few blows.

Mianu deserved better than that.

But he would not show this monster how weak he was. He would not allow himself to truly fall.

“You’ve made a big mistake,” he choked out. “Mainu’s stronger than you know. And he will show you no mercy.”

If he had hoped to intimidate his captor, he was severely disappointed.

“I don’t doubt his power,” she said smoothly. “I need it. Or have you already forgotten? I didn’t hit you in the head, you know. Though that can be arranged.”

Darius didn’t rise to the jibe. He kept fixing the mercenary with the coldest glare he could manage.

And she laughed again. “What a pathetic showing. I’m sure you think your prince is strong, but I promise you, I am more than powerful enough to handle anything he will attempt to use against me. And failing that… I hold all the cards.”

She sneered at Darius. Darius kept his expression cold and harsh. At least, he tried. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

Hope and fear warred inside of him. He knew that Mianu was on his way. That the prince would do everything in his power to save him. It would have been reassuring… if that hadn’t been where the danger truly lay.

If Mianu was hurt—or worse, if he actually gave in and broke his promise, if he used his magic again—it would be entirely Darius’ fault.

A part of him truly hoped that Mianu wouldn’t risk something like that. But his hopes were dashed all too soon. It wasn’t long at all before Mianu arrived.

The first sign of it was the cold. One moment, the small room was just as annoyingly warm as always. The next, the air was like ice.

The door burst open. There was a hissing sound, one that was all too familiar to Darius. And a figure stood in the doorway, a single point of brightness against a wall of shadows. Magic curled around his arm like whisps of smoke. 

A powerful voice rang across the room. A voice full of the type of fury that only royalty could truly summon.

Royalty… and a very pissed off boyfriend.

“Let. Him. Go.”

Shadows howled along with him. Darius’ heart pounded. Mianu had found them. And his power was already unleashed.

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

The First Memory

-----

Tequilla wakes up slowly in the dim morning light, his sibling still fast asleep next to him. It's laying nearly sideways in their bed, clutching a blue bunny stuffie that has been here far longer than he has. Their leg twitches as they dream. He's been happy, living here for this past month.

Has it really only been a month? He feels like there should have been some kind of celebration for that milestone.

He's been getting those faraway feelings for as long as he can remember. Which, admittedly, is not that long. His earliest memory is waking up in that forest all alone, wander for several days foraging for scraps, running and hiding (where did he learn those skills? Who taught him?). He wonders if his memory has always been bad. Poll told him that she hasn't noticed him forgetting anything lately, so maybe he just bumped his head. That's how it goes in the cartoons. You just bump your head a little and get amnesia, right? Then your friends show you something familiar and every memory comes back all at once.

Maybe they've been doing it wrong or something. The child's drawing, the bedroom, even his own grave haven't stirred any memories. Not even the items he's carried in his bag for weeks have stirred anything. Sometimes he considers getting rid of them, they're junk items anyways, but there's a weird gut feeling that makes him feel icky if he tries.

He wishes he knew what happened to them. He hopes they know he's okay. They seemed to care about him.

He wishes he missed them.

Tequilla paws at his eyes and sniffles. He's got to be the big kid now.

His mind feels fuzzy from sleep, eyes bleary.

From the kitchen, a voice emerges, loud and happy and full of love.

"Tequilla, my little peanut, come get your breakfast!"

Carefully, he slides out of bed. Poll's papa doesn't make breakfast very often, so this must be a special treat. Maybe it's for that celebration? He really feels like a month is cause for celebration.

The click of his claws on the hardwood echos in his mind as he pads down the hallway. The light from the windows startles him temporarily, and he rubs at his eyes to make the feeling go away. "Stardust," he mumbles, "what d-did you make for br-breakfast?"

...

He blinks a few times at what he's seeing.

There's a woman in the kitchen. Her curly brown hair cascades down her face and up into a bun, held up by a ribbon bow. Her face is full and wonderful, with golden eyes and large curling horns adorning her head. Her ears droop like his, but with soft brown fur on the inside and outside. Her outfit is overwhelmingly pink, consisting of a large poofy dress with many layers of tule and puffy short sleeves, frills decorating the ends of the sleeves and collar. Around her waist, nestled under her breast, is a large pink ribbon. Her feet are bare, but her wrists are adorned with large golden bands. She's a fat woman, something she always took pride in. She's only a few inches shorter than Dad.

"M..." Tequilla reaches out towards her, taking a short step forward.

She smiles and laughs, extending her hands out in an offering of a hug. "C'mere baby."

"M-momma!" He sobs, running to her with reckless abandon, burying his face in her plush dress.

She hugs him close and wipes the tears from his eyes. "What's wrong baby? Did you have a nightmare?"

Tequilla nods, leaning into her hand. "Momma I mmissed you s-s-so m-much." He struggles to speak through his sobs.

She tuts, crouching down to his level. He feels like a hatchling again, crying over breaking his marker by accident. "I'm not going anywhere, peanut."

"Wh-where did you go? Why can't I ffind you?" He asks through tears.

She cups his face. "I haven't gone anywhere, baby, I'm right here. That must have been some nightmare you had, huh?"

"I guess." He mumbles. "Where's... Wh-where's..." He trails off.

"C'mon golden boy, I've got your breakfast over here." She pats his shoulders, stands up, and pulls him along behind her.

He looks around the room, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Everything feels tilted in his mind's eye, slightly too bright. Too saturated.

"Momma? Where's... Wh..." His tail wraps around his leg. "Why can't I remmember their n-names? Why can't I r-remember their f-faces? What happened to mme, Momma? Where did I g-go?" He shakes her arm, tugs on her dress, does anything to get her to turn around and look at him.

Finally she turns around, a gentle smile on her lips. Her face is obscured now, like it's been scrubbed away by a sponge and covered over with marker. The bright world around him peels and bleeds away like an old painting, leaving just him and the woman in a dark void.

He hugs her tightly, eyes closed so he doesn't see what used to be her face. She strokes his hair as everything melts away.

Slowly, the world around him returns. He can feel the tears streaming down his face, the cold tile under his claws, the lights of the early morning. He squeezes tighter onto whatever he's holding onto.

What is he holding ont-

Tequilla jolts back, looking up at a concerned Stardust. His eyes catch onto their goatlike horns.

His cheeks burn. "S-s-ss-s-s-" He covers his mouth. "S-sorry, Stardust," he says with a little more concentration. "I d-d-don't know what that was."

It looks at him in the same way it looks at Poll when it communicates.

"S-sorry, I still can't understand you. I'll-I'll go wake up Poll."

Stardust grabs his hand, stopping him in his tracks. It holds his hand between two of it's own. It presses his hand against his heart, and it's own where a human heart would be.

He hasn't figured out how to understand Poll's papa yet, but it's meaning seems clear.

"Th-thankss, D- Stardust."

He walks back to the bedroom, tracing the markings on his arms.

[mastersoftheair]

[thedeafprophet]

i really do think about like. The way the princess talks about being 'raised' in the honey in Reunion and acts of it being a good thing really just fucks me up a little bit because

that was neglect! that was bad! that was active endangerment! that was horrible treatment towards a child! and the implication here is that she was raised that same way

and i dont know if thats geniuenly what she believes. or if its what she came to believe, and has to believe.

idk i have the inclination to go 'ha she was probably really creepy as a child too' but then i think about the actual reality of her growing up and its just. eugh. especially conjected with her adult actions of seeming to not want to be alone in what she is..

obviously none of it comes close to excusing what she does or became, but it paints such a tragic story.

[medicinemane]

Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy

You have... very very very very very very very very smart people you know, and they're say something that not only isn't true, but literally is as opposite of the truth as it's possible to be... and you'll... gently inform them "hey, it's actually a bit more like this" and then they just kinda... go on saying literally the exact same thing

I'm not sure if it's just that... I often feel like I must be very bad at communicating, or people must just not notice/ignore a lot of what I say, but... I don't know

Like dearest friend, you've said something as absurd as... I don't know, it's hard to say without saying it, but honest to god about as absurd as saying the United States was a part of the USSR, that level of completely getting it backwards

...and it just doesn't seem to matter when I try to explain it... I legit don't even know if you read what I said

Really end up feeling like I'm going nuts sometimes

[lighthouseas]

so uh

[killuaisaprincess]

reminder GONKI IS MORE CANON 😤😏 so anytime some kg person tries to send hate at you remember it’s just cuz they’re big mad Gonki more canon eheheh 😘🤭

[mothocean]

Didyou guys know that. Raphaella la cognizi

[tj-crochets]

Insurance hell update! After initially denying both Prior Authorization Requests, the specific Request Form Person at my doctor’s office appealed and both are now approved. So insurance is covering my inhalers!  ...sort of. The copay is $70. Each. With my previous non-Aetna insurance, the very first inhaler of the year would be $60, then I’d hit my deductible limit and it’d be $25 from there on out. I am sure as hell going back to my previous insurance and leaving Aetna as soon as I legally can.  Aetna is also requiring I get a NEW prior authorization request form filled out every year! For asthma!! For the medications I’ve been on for five years, that I use to breathe!!! To me, it really seems like Aetna is trying to price and inconvenience anyone with chronic health issues out of their customer base. 

[anguis-sapphire]

I FOUND A FULL ODDS SHINY MARILL

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 57

Chapter Highlights (most of the chapter is the highlight lol)

An hour before dawn, the keep and two armies beyond it were stirring.

Rowan had barely slept, and instead lain awake beside Aelin, listening to her breathing.

That the rest of them slumbered soundly was testament to their exhaustion, though Lorcan had not found them again. Rowan was willing to bet it was by choice.

It was not fear or anticipation of battle that had kept Rowan up—no, he'd slept well enough during other wars. But rather the fact that his mind would not stop looping him from thought to thought to thought.

He'd seen the numbers camped outside.

Valg, human men loyal to Erawan, some fell beasts, yet nothing like the ilken or the

Wyrdhounds, or even the witches.

Aelin could wipe them away before the sun had fully risen. A few blasts of her power, and that army would be gone.

Yet she had not presented it as an option in their planning last night.

He'd seen the hope shining in the eyes of the people in the keep, the awe of the children as she'd passed. The Fire-Bringer, they'd whispered. Aelin of the Wildfire.

How soon would that awe and hope crumble today when not a spark of that fire was unleashed? How soon would the men's fear turn rank when the Queen of Terrasen did not wipe away Morath's legions?

He hadn't been able to ask her. Had told himself to, had roared at himself to ask these past few weeks, when even their training hadn't summoned an ember.

But he couldn't bring himself to demand why she wouldn't or couldn't use her power, why they had seen or felt nothing of it after those initial few days of freedom. Couldn't ask what Maeve and Cairn had done to possibly make her fear or hate her magic enough that she didn't touch it.

Worry and dread gnawing at him, Rowan slipped from the room, the din of preparations greeting him the moment he entered the hall. A heartbeat later, the door opened behind him, and steps fell into sync with his own, along with a familiar, wicked scent.

"They burned her."

Rowan glanced sidelong at Fenrys. "What?" But Fenrys nodded to a passing healer.

"Cairn—and Maeve, through her orders."

"Why are you telling me this?" Fenrys, blood oath or no, what he'd done for Aelin or no, was not privy to these matters. No, it was between him and his mate, and no one else.

Fenrys threw him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "You were staring at her half the night. I could see it on your face. You're all thinking it—why doesn't she just burn the enemy to hell?" Rowan aimed for the washing station down the hall. A few soldiers and healers stood along the metal trough, scrubbing their faces to shake the sleep or nerves.

Fenrys said, "He put her in those metal gauntlets. And one time, he heated them over an open brazier. There…" He stumbled for words, and Rowan could barely breathe. "It took the healers two weeks to fix what he did to her hands and wrists. And when she woke up, there was nothing but healed skin. She couldn't tell what had been done and what was a nightmare." Rowan reached for one of the ewers that some of the children refilled every few moments and dumped it over his head. Icy water bit into his skin, drowning out the roaring in his ears.

"Cairn did many things like that." Fenrys took up a ewer himself, and splashed some into his hands before rubbing them over his face.

Rowan's hands shook as he watched the water funnel toward the basin set beneath the trough.

"Your claiming marks, though." Fenrys wiped his face again. "No matter what they did to her, they remained. Longer than any other scar, they stayed."

Yet her neck had been smooth when he'd found her.

Reading that thought, Fenrys said, "The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That's when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen."

The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her. Even the greatest healers in the world hadn't been able to take that from her until then.

Rowan wiped his face on the arm of his jacket. "Why are you telling me this?" he repeated.

Fenrys rose from the trough, drying his face with the same lack of ceremony. "So you can stop wondering what happened. Focus on something else today." The warrior kept pace beside him as they headed for where they'd been told a meager breakfast would be laid out.

"And let her come to you when she's ready."

"She's my mate," Rowan growled. "You think I don't know that?" Fenrys could shove his snout into someone else's business.

Fenrys held up his hands. "You can be brutal, when you want something."

"I'd never force her to tell me anything she wasn't ready to say." It had been their bargain from the start. Part of why he'd fallen in love with her.

He should have known then, during those days in Mistward, when he found himself sharing parts of himself, his history, that he'd never told anyone. When he found himself needing to tell her, in fragments and pieces, yes, but he'd wanted her to know. And Aelin had wanted to hear it. All of it.

They discovered Aelin and Elide already at the buffet table, grim-faced as they plucked up pieces of bread and cheese and dried fruit. No sign of Gavriel or Lorcan.

Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay.

She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?"

Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.

The four of them ate quickly, refilled their waterskins at the fountain in an interior courtyard, and set about finding armor. There was little on the upper levels that was fit for wearing, so they descended into the keep, deeper and deeper, until they came across a locked room.

"Should we, or is it rude?" Aelin mused, peering at the wooden door.

Rowan sent a spear of his wind aiming for the lock and splintered it apart. "Looks like it was already open when we got here," he said mildly.

Aelin gave him a wicked grin, and Fenrys pulled a torch off its bracket in the narrow stone hallway to illuminate the room beyond.

"Well, now we know why the rest of the keep is a piece of shit," Aelin said, surveying the trove. "He's kept all the gold and fun things down here."

Indeed, his mate's idea of fun things was the same as Rowan's: armor and swords, spears and ancient maces.

"He couldn't have distributed this?" Elide frowned at the racks of swords and daggers.

"It's all heirlooms," said Fenrys, approaching one such rack and studying the hilt of a sword. "Ancient, but still good. Really good," he added, pulling a blade from its sheath.

He glanced at Rowan. "This was forged by an Asterion blacksmith."

"From a different age," Rowan mused, marveling at the flawless blade, its impeccable condition. "When Fae were not so feared."

"Are we just going to take it? Without even Chaol's permission?" Elide chewed on her lip.

Aelin snickered. "Let's consider ourselves swords-for-hire. And as such, we have fees that need to be paid." She hefted a round, golden shield, its edges beautifully engraved with a motif of waves. Also Asterion-made, judging by the craftsmanship. Likely for the Lord of Anielle— the Lord of the Silver Lake. "So, we'll take what we're owed for today's battle, and spare His Lordship the task of having to come down here himself."

Gods, he loved her.

Fenrys winked at Elide. "I won't tell if you don't, Lady."

Elide blushed, then waved them onward. "Collect your earnings, then."

Rowan did. He and Fenrys found armor that could fit them—in certain areas. They had to forgo the entire suit, but took pieces to enforce their shoulders, forearms, and shins. Rowan had just finished strapping greaves on his legs when Fenrys said, "We should bring some of this up for Lorcan and Gavriel."

Indeed they should. Rowan eyed other pieces, and began collecting extra daggers and blades, then sections from another suit that might fit Lorcan, Fenrys doing the same for Gavriel.

"You must charge a great deal for your services," Elide muttered. Even while the Lady of Perranth tied a few daggers to her own belt.

"I need some way to pay for my expensive tastes, don't I?" Aelin drawled, weighing a dagger in her hands.

But she hadn't donned any armor yet, and when Rowan gave her an inquiring glance, Aelin jerked her chin toward him. "Head upstairs-track down Lorcan and Gavriel. I'll find you soon."

Her face was unreadable for once. Perhaps she wanted a moment alone before battle. And when Rowan tried to find any words in her eyes, Aelin turned toward the shield she'd claimed. As if contemplating it.

So Rowan and Fenrys headed upstairs, Elide helping to haul their stolen gear. No one stopped them. Not with the sky turning to gray, and soldiers rushing to their positions on the battlements.

Rowan and Fenrys didn't have far to go.

They'd be stationed by the gates at the lower level, where the battering rams might come flying through if Morath got desperate enough.

On the level above them, Chaol sat astride his magnificent black horse, the mare's breath curling from her nostrils. Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, and Chaol saluted back before gazing toward the enemy army.

The khaganate would make the first maneuver, the initial push to get Morath moving.

"I always forget how much I hate this part," Fenrys muttered. "The waiting before it begins."

Rowan grunted his agreement.

Gavriel prowled up to them, Lorcan a dark storm behind him. Rowan wordlessly handed the latter the armor he'd gathered. "Courtesy of the Lord of Anielle." Lorcan gave him a look that said he knew Rowan was full of shit, but began efficiently donning the armor, Gavriel doing the same.

Whether the soldiers around them marked that armor, whether Chaol recognized it, no one said a word.

"Ready now," Chaol called out to the men of his keep.

This would be it—today. Whether that hope remained or fractured.

Already, the awakening sky revealed two siege towers being hauled toward them. Right to the wall. Far closer than Rowan had last noted when flying overhead last night. Morath, it seemed, had not been sleeping, either.

The ruks would remain back with their own army, driving Morath to the keep. To be picked off here, one by one.

"We have minutes until that first tower makes contact with the wall," Gavriel observed. A scan of the battlements, the soldiers atop them, revealed no sign of Aelin. Lorcan indeed muttered, "Someone better tell her to stop primping and get here." Rowan snarled in warning.

"Archers!" Chaol's bellow rang out. Behind them, down the battlements, bows groaned. Fenrys unslung the bow across his back and nocked an arrow into place.

Rowan kept his own bow strapped across his back, the quiver untouched, Gavriel and Lorcan doing the same. No need to waste them on a few soldiers when their aim might be needed with far worse targets later in the day.

But one of them had to be noted felling soldiers. For whatever it would do to rally their spirits. And Fenrys, as fine an archer as Rowan, he'd admit, would do just fine.

Rowan followed the line of Fenrys's arrowhead to where he'd marked one of the bearers of a siege ladder. "Make it impressive," he muttered.

"Mind your own business," Fenrys muttered back, tracking his target with the tip of his arrow as he awaited Chaol's order.

If Aelin didn't arrive within another moment, he'd have to leave the battlements to find her. What in hell had held her up?

Lorcan drew his ancient blade, which Rowan had witnessed felling soldiers in kingdoms far from here, in wars far longer than this one. "They'll head for the gates when that siege tower docks," Lorcan said, glancing from the battlements to the gate a level below, the small bastion of men in front of it. Trees had been felled to prop up the metal doors, but should a solid enough group of enemy soldiers swarm it, they might get those supports and the heavy locks down within minutes. And open the gates to the hordes beyond

"We don't let them get that far," Rowan said, eyeing up the massive tower lumbering closer. Soldiers teemed behind it, waiting to scale its interior. "Chaol brought the tower down the other day without our help. It can happen again."

"Volley!" Chaol's roar echoed off the stones, and arrows sang.

Like a swarm of locusts, they swept upon the soldiers marching below. Fenrys's arrow found its mark with lethal precision.

Within a heartbeat, another was on its tail. A second soldier at the siege ladder fell.

Where the hell was Aelin—

Morath didn't halt. Marched right over the soldiers who fell on their front lines.

The pulse of human fear down the battlements rippled against his skin. The cadre would have to strike fast, and strike well, to shake it away.

The siege tower lumbered closer. One glance from Rowan had him and his friends moving toward the spot it would now undeniably strike upon the battlements. Close enough to the stairs down to the gate. Morath had chosen the location well.

Some of the soldiers they passed were praying, a shuddering push of words into the frigid morning air.

Lorcan said to one of them, "Save your breath for the battle, not the gods."

Rowan shot him a look, but the man, gaping at Lorcan, quieted.

Chaol ordered another volley, and arrows flew, Fenrys firing as he walked. As if he were barely bothered.

Still, the whispered prayers continued down the line, swords shaking along with them.

Up by Chaol, the soldiers held firm, faces solid.

But here, on this level of the battlements ... those faces were pale. Wide-eyed.

"Someone better say something inspiring," Fenrys said through gritted teeth, firing another arrow. "Or these men are going to piss themselves in a minute."

For a minute was all they had left, as the first siege tower inched closer.

"You've got the pretty face," Lorcan retorted. "You'd do a better job of it."

"It's too late for speeches," Rowan cut in before Fenrys could reply. "Better to show them what we can do."

Rowan steadied his breathing, readying his magic to rip through Valg lungs. He'd fell a few with his blades first. To show how easily it could be done, that Morath was desperate and victory would be near. The magic would come later.

The siege tower groaned as it slowed to a stop.

Just as the wall under them shuddered at its impact, Fenrys whispered, "Holy gods."

Not at the bridge that snapped down, soldiers teeming in the dark depths inside.

But at who emerged from the keep archway behind them. What emerged.

Rowan didn't know where to look. At the soldiers pouring out of the siege tower, leaping onto the battlements, or at Aelin.

At the Queen of Terrasen.

She'd found armor below the keep. Beautiful, pale gold armor that gleamed like a summer dawn. Holding back her braided hair, a diadem lay flush against her head. Not a diadem, but a piece of armor. Part of some ancient set for a lady long since buried.

A crown for war, a crown to wear into battle. A crown to lead armies.

There was no fear on her face, no doubt, as Aelin hefted her shield, flipping Goldryn in her hand once before the first of Morath's soldiers was upon her.

A swift, upward strike cleaved the Morath grunt from navel to chin. His black blood sprayed, but she was already moving, flowing like a stream around a rock.

Rowan launched into movement, his blades finding their marks, but still he watched her.

Aelin slammed her shield against an oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through another before she plunged the blade into the soldier she'd deflected.

She did it again, and again.

All while heading toward that siege tower. Unhindered. Unleashed.

A call went down the line. The queen has come.

Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward them. Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left them dying on the stones.

She planted her line before the gaping maw of that siege tower, right in the path of those teeming hordes. Every moment of the training she'd done on the ship here, on the road, every new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself for this.

The queen has come.

Goldryn unfaltering, her shield an extension of her arm, Aelin glowed like the sun that now broke over the khagan's army as she engaged each soldier that hurtled her way.

Five, ten—she moved and moved and moved, ducking and swiping, shoving and flipping, black blood spraying, her face the portrait of grim, unbreaking will.

"The queen!" the men shouted. "To the queen!"

And as Rowan fought his way closer, as that cry went down the battlements and Anielle men ran to aid her, he realized that Aelin did not need an ounce of flame to inspire men to follow.

That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.

He'd never seen such a glorious sight. In every land, every battle, he had never seen anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat of the siege tower, holding the line.

Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed a battle cry and tore into Morath.

This first battle would set the tone.

It would set the tone, and send a message.

Not to Morath.

Impress us, Hasar had said.

So she would. So she'd picked the golden armor and her battle-crown. And waited until dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the battlements, before unleashing herself.

To keep the men here from breaking, to wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.

To convince the khaganate royals of what she might do, what she could do. Not a threat, but a reminder.

She was no helpless princess. She had never been.

Goldryn sang with each swipe, her mind as cool and sharp as the blade while she assessed each enemy soldier, their weapons, and took them down accordingly. She dimly knew that Rowan fought at her side, Gavriel and Fenrys battling near her left flank.

But she was keenly aware of the mortal men who leaped into the fray with cries of defiance.

They'd made it this far. They would survive today, too. And the khaganate royals would know it.

Galloping hooves drowned out the battle, and then Chaol was there, sword flashing, driving into the unending tide that rushed from the tower's entrance.

"To Lord Chaol! To the queen!"

How far they both were from Rifthold.

From the assassin and the captain.

Arrows rose from the army beyond the wall, but a wave of icy wind snapped them into splinters before they could find any marks. A dark blur plunged past, and then Lorcan was at the siege tower's mouth, his sword swinging so fast Aelin could barely follow it. He battled his way across the metal bridge of the tower, into the stairwell beyond. Like he'd fight his way down the ramps and onto the battlefield itself. Below, a boom began. Morath had brought in their battering ram.

Aelin smiled grimly. She'd bring them all down. Then Erawan. And then she'd unleash herself upon Maeve.

At the opposite end of the field, the khagan's army pushed, gaining the field step by step.

Not helpless. Not contained. Never again.

Death became a melody in her blood, every movement a dance as the tide of soldiers pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan was indeed forcing his way down the interior.

Those who got past him met her blade, or Rowan's. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had slaughtered his way into the siege tower as well, twin blades a whirlwind.

What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon reaching the bottom, how they'd dislodge the tower, she didn't know. Didn't think about it.

Not from this place of killing and movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.

Death had been her curse and her gift and her friend for these long, long years. She was happy to greet it again under the golden morning sun.

[bekkathyst]

BEKKATHYST 2024 Giveaway!

~This giveaway is in no way affiliated with Tumblr.~

Please read thoroughly before entering!

Hello lovely Tumblr folk! It’s that time again- I have a giveaway for you all. 💜

We have an online store that could use your support!

You can also find us on Instagram and if you enjoy our shop you can also sign up for our email newsletter here to get updates about new inventory and sales!

About us: My business is a small, family-run establishment that I started here on Tumblr in 2013. I’ve been lucky enough to grow to the point where this supports me, my partner, and our daughter. In the US we also had a brick-and-mortar shop in which I employed my mom and a few of my siblings. However, we closed it to be able to move to Austria, my home country! 💜 I strive to put compassion and ethics above all else in my business, and I hope that shines through. We have a website but also run many fun sales directly here on Tumblr!

This giveaway will have two winners.

What the first winner receives:

All the pictured crystals, plus a $100 gift card that can be used for our online store or our Tumblr sales. Pictured crystals: rose quartz wand, blue calcite elephant, azurite/malachite, druzy cutbase, amethyst sphere, Himalayan quartz, girasol rose quartz palm stone, amethyst star and moon, labradorite pebble, prehnite, hematoid quartz, sunstone/moonstone, scenic quartz, flower agate heart, black quartz, selenite from Spain, moss agate sphere. Also included is a spirit quartz and alder cone copper necklace, handmade by me!

What the second winner receives:

A $50 gift card that can be used for our online store or Tumblr sales!

Rules:

You must be 16 or older. (If under 18 you MUST have parent’s permission)

You can be from anywhere in the world! I am shipping from Austria.

Shipping is entirely free, I will cover it. But if you live in a country that charges import tax on gifts, you are responsible for it. If it gets sent back to me, you will need to pay shipping to have it sent again.

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Reblog this post to enter. Likes count as additional entries. No giveaway or spam blogs. If you reblog on a side blog, let me know in the tags what the name of your blog is that you’re following me with.

At the end, each entry will be assigned a number and the winner will be chosen by a random number generator.

The giveaway ends on July 1st, 2024.

The winners will be messaged and must respond with their full name and address within 24 hours, or a new winner will be chosen.

Please respect me and my rules, and have fun!