#sorry in advance if i poison you

[yewphoric]

oh yeah, i wanted to do trick or treating here, so... send me a "trick or treat" and you'll receive a random Skyrim potion, made of random ingredients!

[lesbiangiratina]

Funny as hell. Yeah theyre doing great

[valeriannnn]

you wish it was a nightmare: fleeting and disturbing in equal measure, and easily dismissed by a rational mind but knowing both your history and his that degree of subterfugre doesn't seem so farfetched after all

Wolcred Week 2024 Day 4: Heal/Harmony | Sweet Dreams*

I didn't participate last year, so I'm subbed in this prompt from the previous list!

also here's panel 4 without the Nightmare/Soul Overlay since I spent way too much time on it:

[puffleyia]

After Hours || Theodore Nott

Theodore Nott x fem!reader || 2.3k words

Warnings: Unprotected & clothed sex, p-in-v, Theo speaking some Italian (hope the translations are accurate..) yeah, i'm a sucker for that.

Summary: Exams are two weeks time from now. You've made a deliberate effort to steer clear of your boyfriend, Theo. One unfortunate night, he ends up dragging you into an empty classroom and teaches you a lesson worth remembering.

Author's notes: Hellooo, requests are open ! It's a blast writing ab Theo !! I've only gotten back into writing recently after not writing fics for a good while. sorry if i'm slow at churning out fics. I'm busy!

It was roughly two weeks before examinations, and professors have even stopped giving out homework as to focus students’ time on reviewing for their respective subjects. You’ve been studying your ass off in the library day and night, sometimes offering your friends to join in as well. Though, they quickly get bored as they soon offer to do much more interesting things  than studying such as having a go at wizard chess, or exploding snap.

It took a lot of self control not to join them, and it took even more not to just put down your book and see Theo. You had been purposely avoiding him because he would always end up distracting you, one way or another. You always catch him stealing a glance at you, and you would almost squirm at the way he looked at you; severely in discomfort as the tension between you two only continued to rise due to the lack of interaction.

It felt suffocating to say the least, so you even began trying not to even breathe in his direction. Needless to say, the bastard still had his ways. He would sometimes sneak up behind you in the library, as you pore over the shelves, inviting himself in as he grabbed your waist and buried his face in your neck. Another is when he would attempt to ensnare you right after your classes. 

In the end, you always found yourself ending up hiding away in your common room. You would get past him just by the skin of your teeth each time, as he used his cunning words and a dangerous tone that was like poisoned honey.

You thought, or, more like hoped it would be a quiet night tonight, staying up past curfew hours at the library and praying none of the professors nor prefects would catch you. Though perhaps you were too engrossed in Advanced Potion Making to notice the echo of footsteps that slowly grew louder as it drew nearer to you. Your ears simply blanked it out as mere white noise.

It had not even registered yet in your head until you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, as someone sat beside you. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, as you could see him faintly through your peripherals. “You’ve been so distant lately, amore,” he says, his tone unhappy and laced with a hint of something else you couldn’t quite make out underneath it. 

“Sorry, Theo, I-I’m only trying to focus on the exams at the moment. I mean, not in a bad way but, if I spend time with you, I’ll only end up distracted,” you say, trying to clarify yourself to him. Maybe it would’ve been a good idea to tell him sooner. He sighs, “I guess I’ll just have to–” he gets cut off as you both stiffen at the sound of someone approaching.

He hastily places a firm hand over your mouth, silencing your protests, and shoves your book, notes, and quill into your arms. Before you could object, he then relocates you two into an empty classroom, hastily and skillfully sneaking around the halls to get there. It looked unkempt, and it seemed as if it were not used regularly either. He finally released you from his grasp as you gasped for air. “Theo! What the he–” you say, as he quickly covers your mouth again. “Shh, you’re gonna get us caught, principessa.” He says in a low voice, in a near-whisper before he lets go again. “Ahem,” you clear up your throat before you speak, “I-I believe I should get going, Theo.” He furrows his brows at that, frowning slightly. You head towards the classroom’s door, before he grabs you by the waist from behind and pulls you in.

“Who said you were leaving, hm? Are you trying to avoid me again?” He says, as he moved the both of you to sit on one of the chairs. You remain in his arms, unable to get out despite your attempts to wiggle out and you end up on his lap. “Theo.” You say firmly, trying to assert yourself to let him know you really are serious about studying. “Mm, fine, since you’re so stubborn. Tell you what, how about I study with you?” He says suggestively, his voice making you feel things you were not supposed to. Not right now at least.

“Really?” You say skeptically, raising an eyebrow. You place your stuff down, with a dull thud as it is placed on the table. Sounding slightly annoyed, he says, “What's with the attitude, hm? Are you doubting me?” “F-fine, then,” you hesitantly agree, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants to be. Alone with him.

“Brava ragazza,” he says, as he rests his head on your shoulder whilst flipping open your book. You can not help but faintly squeeze your thighs together, you didn’t know most of the time what he was saying when he spoke to you in Italian, but you found it incredibly hot when he did. Your actions do not go unnoticed by him, though he was not going to do anything yet. You pick up your quill, your eyebrows knitting together as you attempt to focus on taking your notes. 

“Tell you what, I’ll ask you a few questions to help you. If you get it right, I won’t do anything. If you don't…” He says, his voice trailing off as he does not continue what he was going to say, though the timbre in his voice gave enough implication. You gulp and nod, your throat bobbing as you swallow. You knew you did not really have much of a say, Theo’s done a good job of cornering you. Not to mention the fact he knew you were slightly struggling with potions, too.

“Right then, amore, can you tell me how Golpalott’s Third Law influences the effectiveness and stability of potions?” He asked amusedly, his foot tapping the floor rhythmically. “Uhm,” you say, muttering in an attempt to answer, “Uh, well, it’s... um, when you have a potion with, uh, lots of different poisons, right? So, um, the antidote... it's not just, um, the sum of... wait, no, it's more than that! Yeah, um…” You begin feeling your mouth go dry as the tension in the room fills the air. You feel your heart thump loudly against your ribcage.

“It’s when you have multiple poisons mixed together in a potion, the antidote needs to be more potent or comprehensive to counteract their combined effects.” He says, cockily smirking as he corrects you. Your breath hitches as he takes off your robes and his, tossing it aside as he hikes up your skirt and gropes you. “Theo!” You gasp at his actions. He buries his face on the crook of your neck, as he breathed in your scent before he began kissing it.

“Cazzo,” he mumbles before he spat out another question, “What are the common ingredients and methods used to counteract the effects of different poisons?” You feel the tent in his pants growing, his cock pressing against your clothed cunt. “I–” You manage to get out before biting your lip, stifling a moan. You had reviewed this, but lust simply clouded your mind for you to formulate a cohesive answer.

“Um, er.. D-dittany, for uhm, venom,” you say, as Theo continued teasing you, grinding his hips upwards so that you could feel his dick. You moan at the friction on your pussy, feeling your panties get wet. “I..” You slur, unable to say anything further. “Cockdrunk already, cara mia?” He lets out a guttural laugh, bending you over the table and grabbing your hips roughly as he continues grinding his cock on your pussy. 

“Don’t forget, Bezoar, for example–” he grunts, “–is a stone found in the stomach of certain magical creatures like goats. It's known for its ability to neutralise many poisons when ingested. Then there's the Antidote to Common Poisons…” He corrects you, adding more strings of information you probably needed. Though, it was not as if you were paying attention, as you were moving your hips hungrily back onto his dick, only being separated by thin fabric. 

“Merda, might as well just fuck you if you keep getting my questions wrong, principessa.” He says, his voice dangerously low as you hear the clink of his belt unbuckling and the distinct sound of his fly unzipping. You look over your shoulder, watching him intently as he pulls down his dark grey boxers and frees his cock. “Theo, please,” you whine, as he smacks your ass and pushes your panties aside. “I thought you were too busy studying? Maybe I should just leave you to that,” he teases you, tapping his dick on your cunt and rubbing it in between your folds.

“No, please,” you plead, and desperately you pressed yourself onto his cock. “Beg, cara mia,” he husked condescendingly, enjoying humiliating you as he continued teasing your wet pussy. “Please, mmhn–” you moan, “I’m sorry, Theo. I-I need it, please, need your cock,” you whimper, flushed from embarrassment as he finally slipped the tip inside you. He pressed inside, at a gruellingly slow pace. 

“Cazzo, una puttana così sporca, aren’t you huh?” You could not place your finger on a single word he said in Italian, but your pussy definitely could. He groaned loudly as he grew impatient, shoving the rest of his dick into you. His groin pressed flush against your ass. You moaned loudly at that, and with a swift motion, he reached out and clamped his hand over your mouth. “Shh, cara mia,” he whispers sultrily in your ear as he quickly silences you, unwilling for the both of you to get caught.

You let out a few muffled sounds against his hand as he began thrusting into you, slowly drawing out his cock as he slammed it back into you with such force that the table beneath you shook. “Such a slut aren’t you? Merda,” He rasped as he uncovers your mouth, “yes!” you say, as he’s eliciting vulgar moans from you each time he fucked his dick back in.

He slithered his hand down onto your pussy, rubbing your clit. He leans in, grunting, as he kisses your nape. He sucks on your neck, trailing down to your back, leaving red marks as he sealed each one afterwards with a kiss. “Ti senti così maledettamente bene, amore,” he groaned, only setting his pace rougher as he hit a particularly deep spot inside you, hitting your cervix. 

“Oh fuck, Theo,” you whine, as you tried to remain as quiet as you could. Your hands firmly grip onto the edges of the table, your nails digging into it, as he fucks you into oblivion. Tears brim at your eyes, as close them shut. Some teardrops cling onto your pretty lashes, and some flow down your cheek, falling down, staining the pages of your book. He loved watching you cry in pleasure, observing your expressions as he drove himself into you.

He loomed over you, using a hand to cup your jaw to force your head to look up at his face. “Open your mouth, cara mia.” He said, an authoritative tone that rolled off his tongue like butter. You oblige, parting your lips, your tongue lolling out as you do. He spits in your mouth, the hand holding your chin clamping your jaw shut afterwards . “Swallow.”

You do as he says, swallowing his spit as he lets go of your jaw and your head hangs down soon after. With that, he fucks you rougher, his pace frantic. You become nothing short of a moaning mess, he returns his hand to your clit and strokes it rhythmically in time with his thrusts. You let out small whimpers and whines as you feel hazy and drunk on his cock. 

Theo, in an intoxicated trance, mutters a string of curses and praises in Italian. You cry out his name in ecstasy with every jab at your sweet spot as he ploughs into you. You feel a familiar warmth pooling at your stomach, only feeling more pleasurable by the second. “Theo, m’gonna cum, T-Theo,” you babble almost incoherently. He leans in briefly, and in a gravelly tone, “Cum on my cock, cara mia.” He says, letting his breath trickle down your neck.

Spasming around him, you dissolve into pleasure as you see stars. You selfishly clench around his dick, as if you wanted to milk him dry. Cumming all over his cock, you quite literally bury your face into your book, in an attempt to muffle the loud moan you let out as you do. 

His thrusts grow languid and sloppy, hips stuttering unrhythmically as his climax nears. “Want me to cum inside you, principessa?” He husked, now digging his fingers into your hips as he chased his high. “Yes, yes, mhn–” you chant, unable to think straight. “Theo, please,” you pleaded. 

With one final thrust, he groans loudly and buries himself fully inside you and stuffs your pussy with his cum. You felt his cock pulsing inside you, both of you panting as he rode out his orgasm. “Fuck, atta girl,” he says breathily, praising you as he pulls out of your cunt. He watches as you softly moan as you feel white globs of cum trickle out of your folds, dripping down your thighs.

He hastily tucks his cock back into his pants, pulling your skirt back in place as he walks (more like carries) you back to your common room that night before he headed back to his. Well, it was safe to say you definitely got nothing done that night, though he makes it up to you the following afternoon by actually helping you study with potions.

[shhuuga]

Hello, I saw a video about ‘JJK men if you came home wearing pheromone perfume’ i was wondering how you could write that. Thank you for reading I love your works https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP81Ac4sw/

(ive never actually worn pheromones so I'm sorry in advance if this is off lol)

SMELL LIKE CANDY !

🍬 ?? [ nanami , gojo , geto , choso , and toji x black!fem!reader]

🍬 .. [ you come home wearing pheromone perfume. ]

🍬 !! [ getting 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 under the influence (CONSENUAL !!!!) ]

going out with your girlfriends was always fun, but admittedly sometimes you over (or under) dressed. you were a little sweaty and begged your homegirl for whatever she had on that was making her smell so damn good. what she neglected to tell you was that it was pheromone perfume! and with your man back home waiting on you..

NANAMI !

nanami was lounging on the couch, having himself a drink. he would've gone out with you ad your friends, but he has your location, and enough faith in your tipsy ways that you won't wander off without letting him know where you're going.

his ears perk up at the sound of you locking the door behind you, meeting you at the corridor and helping you take off your shoes. his nose isn't the most keen, but something is different. nanami has only ever smelt you like this a few times, usually when you're ovulating and he can't help himself because you're literally wet all the time (and ofc your pussy is his favorite scent).

but no, you aren't ovulating. you just smell.. good. different good, the kind of different good that makes him carry you upstairs for the rest of the night kissing all over your neck, titties, and tummy. makin sure to tell you how good you smell, and to ask your friend where the hell she got this stuff.

GOJO !

gojo is exercising in the home gym when you come in. he's got his earbuds in and nearly had a heart attack when he turns around to see your drunken figure slumped against the wall, smiling at him with that look in your eyes. he's shirtless, sweat dripping into the corners of his collarbone and bouncing off his thick chest as he picks you up to guide you to your shared bedroom.

when you bury your face in gojo's neck, he catches a whiff of you and his dick nearly springs out of his pants just by how good you smell (i will push the agenda that gojo and choso are panty sniffers and really scent oriented men until the day I leave this earth)

he's laying you out all naked on the bed within seconds just to sniff you. then to kiss on you, then to eat your pussy, which quickly turns into lazy fuckin (and cockwarming teehee)

GETO !

geto is sitting on the front porch, his eyes don't leave you once as you overzealously wave goodbye to your Uber driver, your new "best friend" according to your slurring self. he pays you no mind, ashing his cigarette out and throwing you over his shoulder before you can make a fuss. "you stinkk.." you mumble into his back, he shrugs and sniffs you (well, really your behind but whatever) and finds the scent that hits him to be one of the best to ever hit his nose.

he makes sure you're nice and comfortable, laying on your stomach before kissing and biting all over your butt and thighs. he wastes no time to start sucking on your pussy (and ass bc let's be fr.. he an ass eater) from the back and not stopping till he's damn near sucked the perfume off and swallowed it. he makes sure to buy you at least 5 different pheromone perfumes that morning.

CHOSO !

choso is no stranger to being a "sniffer". he sniffs you, your clothes, your panties when he's feeling horny and lonely. his nose is always full of you and your wondrous smell. so it's no surprise that he's going absolutely feral when you come home with that shit on. and don't even RUNNN from this dick girl.

choso wastes no time ! he's not a chit chat nigga.. either he giving you that dick or he's going back to sleep so pick your poison ! he doesn't even care when you're whining at him that you have work, to stop giving you hickeys. sorry honey, should've thought of that before you came home with pheromones on when you KNOW this man is feral !

"you smell so sweet, darling. can't fuckin'- ahh, shit.. can't stop fuckin' you. take this dick, honey. let me smell that sweet pussy." oh he's TAKING it from you !! and he gonna stay horny because the mix of that perfume and sex in the air just gonna make him wanna go for round 2 and 3. someone turn a fan on !!

TOJI !

let's be fr ! he not finna care.

but let's FANTASIZE for a moment.

toji prolly inna bad damn mood already bc you went out with your girls and left his clingy teddy bear ass alone :( he's trying to be all tough guy but when he sees and smells you he's all "cmere, mamas.. let me take your dress off for you." and "what? i can't smell my woman no more? titties smell s'fuckin good.."

he's not super smell oriented i think !! like don't get me wrong he LOVESS how you smell its just not his thing he's just kinda like yeah u smell good okay.. now what ? he TOTALLY ends up sucking on your titties like a baby to fall asleep tho, jus because he can >:3

written by @shhuuga [08/31/24] all rights reserved. do not copy, steal or translate my writing.

[emeraldxphoenix]

It’s not surprising that Harbard is the one who chooses to take the most umbridge at Loki’s entrance, and recent activities. The man is a walking, talking, primordial bovine, so obsessed with ‘tradition’ and ‘proper process’ that he’s clearly never so much as flirted with change in his life. The Lord makes no secret of his displeasure at Loki’s union with his queen, very clearly holding his past, and his tendency towards mischief, against him. Loki avoids him where possible. 

Enough. Oh Norns it shouldn’t do things to him when his wife uses that voice. Except it really does, and by the time the council members are dismissed, the god’s cheeks are dusted with a gentle pink. He can’t help it, not when Sigyn handles her council so sternly, firmly defending him in spite of his lack of real status or position – something that is most definitely a failing in their eyes, but never in hers. It had been unsettling, to put it mildly, when Loki had first arrived on Vanaheim, in essence (if not reality) stripped of his royalty and bearing no position other than a glorified concubine. The court had loved to whisper. Over time, however, the trickster had relaxed into his new role, the flame of his ever-growing love for the Queen contenting him to the thought of a life by her side, in whatever position she might choose.

Loki can’t help the ghost of a smirk curling at his lips as the council files past, extremely pleased both with himself – for succeeding where others failed, for putting a violent end to the life of the would-be assassin – and the situation as a whole. Some of the council may object, but the Prince Consort can think of no higher privilege than murdering the man who wanted his Queen dead, and he’s astute enough to know that the people of Vanaheim will be expressing their gratitude for a long time to come. 

He releases the bloodied sack into the first hand that reaches for it, but the only thing the trickster really cares about is currently rising to her feet, steadying herself against the table, and slowly approaching him. Gods, he loves her.

You’re hurt. A snort of dry amusement. “And you’re recovering from a poisoning.” Still, he reaches for her with his good hand, wrapping it round her waist both to support and pull her close. Chin dips, head tilting forward until the god can press his lips against hers, the touch filled with a desperate adoration born of days spent mostly apart, and thankfulness that such a time has reached its end. An audible sigh of relief vibrates in his throat. Several moments pass before he pulls back, reluctant to part when all he wants to do is climb inside her skin beside her, and continues speaking. “Now, sit back down before I make you. Then I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about that villainous crotch-louse I caught.”

Sigyn is still not entirely recovered from the attempted poisoning, but she hides it well. Her duties have been scaled back while she recovers, with anything which can wait until she is well again being put on hold entirely. This meeting could not wait.

While her council is predominantly now made up of members of her own choosing, there are still a few on it with whom she regularly disagrees; holdovers from her mother's reign, kept both for their knowledge on specific matters and because she does not wish to merely surround herself with sycophantic courtiers. But these same faces are the ones she expects pushback from where Loki is concerned - they disagreed with her decision to bring him here in the first place, and have made a point of disagreeing with everything involving him since. Their Queen giving her husband explicit permission to deal with the threat to her life himself went down predictably poorly.

The comment which precedes Loki's arrival is made in response to Lord Harbard's insincere query as to whether she was truly well enough to have made such a decision, and her tone is as dry as the look she exchanges with one of her more agreeable advisors. Her gaze is quickly drawn towards the door upon the sound of it opening; there is only one person who would enter unannounced, so she is not as surprised as some when Loki enters the room.

While her council make various exclamations regarding the obvious contents of the sack he carries, Sigyn finds her attention drawn immediately to the injuries he bears. The fact she knows he would happily have endured far worse in the name of keeping her safe does little to quell the anxious guilt she feels at the sight.

Before she has the chance to reply, Harbard shoots to his feet - clearly thinking he has found the perfect way to prove his own point as he declares: "Your majesty, you simply cannot allow this. There are proper channels which must be—"

"Enough." The Queen instructs, blue eyes hard as they settle upon the indignant advisor. "For the sake of your years of service to the Realm, I will overlook the fact that - today alone - you have twice seen fit to question my judgement. But I will not allow you to undermine the fact that my husband has, in a matter of days, succeeded where the proper channels failed. I heeded your advice for months, and it almost cost me my life. You are lucky I have not concluded that you were somehow involved."

She turns her attention to other members of her council then. "Have the remains dealt with, and make it known how the culprit was apprehended. Now please, leave us."

The council disperses, with the majority moving to do as she has asked; the man who takes the sack from Loki is not the only one to mutter thanks and congratulations to the Consort as he leaves. Harbard exits the room in embarrassed silence. And meanwhile, Sigyn pushes herself to stand - leaning on the table to support herself for a moment, before walking to stand before Loki just as the door closes behind the departing advisors.

"You're hurt."

[mistriavalley]

Fields of mistria request! Do you think any of the bachelors and bachelorettes are prone to jealousy? How would they react to the farmer getting flirted with by an out of towner?

Who'd get jealous

Note: I only write for up to 6 characters so I picked out the ones I think would be jealous🤗❤️ ALSO I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG WITH THIS

Gender neutral

TW: none

Masterlist

Of course I picked March out, because let's face it. He would absolutely have an issue with anyone (he doesn't know and trust) even breathing in your direction. The blacksmith isn't big on PDA, but once he notices someone hitting on you he's basically all over you. March is wrapping his arm around you while glaring daggers at the person, not even trying to keep it low-key or anything. How dare they think they have a chance with you while you're dating the number one blacksmith in the entire goddamn country. This person looks like they can't even swing a hammer properly. What a disgrace! And when you try to talk about his jealous overreaction? Deny, deny, deny. Get Olric on the tease train with you and bully the shit out of him.

Juniper pretends to be all cool and calm and swears she has never been jealous and never will be. Bullshit. Someone could be laughing a bit too hard at your jokes or touching your arm for too long and that woman has already a poisonous potion on her mind. Of course she will deny any jealousy no matter how obvious she is with it and Valen teases her for the rest of the week once she notices. "Who is this peasant? OH HO HO!" She'd say while giving the person a bombastic side-eye. "Oh no, darling, they touched your arm? We will get you all cleaned up in my bathhouse." Juniper, please, that is so rude.

The way Balor gets jealous is not really anything you notice at first unless you know him like the back of your hand. Which you do. PDA isn't something he struggles with, but when he sees an outsider flirting with you, he tends to get even more touchy. Caldarus forbid the person is a salesman like him though. Then it's on. Welcome to the petty Olympics and Snicklefritz is absolutely diving for that gold medal. "Your gems are so unpolished." "Did you really think this rusty spoon counts as an artifact?" "We obviously have an amateur at work here, huh."

Adeline needs to be protected at all cost, because when she's jealous she gets insecure about herself. The festival she planned together with you and the other town members is a full success and attracted a lot of people from outside, but unfortunately you seem to attract a lot of attention as well. Not that you want to of course. She is a mess once she takes notice. Reina and Celine have to convince her that you don't feel neglected and that she isn't too focused on her work. Meanwhile the person hitting on you slowly realizes that they walked into a landmine, because you can't stop talking about how your beautiful girlfriend organized this festival and what amazing work she's been doing to repair the town and-

Eiland's reaction to you being hit on is almost as petty as Balor's. More even and he doesn't seem to realize one bit. Someone is hitting on you? Let him assess the situation first. Okay, he's there, being more than clear that he's your partner, but the other person won't stop their advances. Eiland wraps his arm around the other person and offers to tell them some fun facts about the history of the town. What, they can't tell the difference between the artifacts and that they're all in fact not from the same era? His reaction is the equivalent of "All marathons are the same length. That's like common sense, I fear." and he says it in a way like he's talking to a toddler.

Valen feels incredibly secure in your relationship and rarely gets jealous, but dammit, Juniper, stop telling her about how this new, cute salesperson from abroad is hitting on her partner. It's all fun and games for the witch, because it's a sight to behold. The usually calm and composed doctor isn't calm and composed now? Valen walks over to you guys (very casually and not stiff at all) and plants (again, very casually) a kiss on your temple. All the insecurity and jealousy vanishes into thin air once she hears your giggles and feels your hand reaching out for hers. Dammit, Juniper, she will get her revenge after this.

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | now you got me

ix. now you got me by inhaler

series masterlist | previous | next

the happy little bubble you and luke made for yourselves inevitably bursted a few days after you made it official– though if you asked luke, you rejected his advances, which always earned an eye roll from you followed by a long kiss to his lips that had him silent for the next five minutes. you knew he was milking the hell out of you saying no to his question until he let you listen to the song, but you were his and he was yours regardless of the title. 

you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing as you ran your fingers down the marks on your neck. you added a turtleneck under your chb shirt, not having enough energy to cover up the marks on your neck with makeup, and you definitely didn’t have the energy to explain to people how you got them. thankfully, the weather cooperated with you today. it was unusually cold for the summer, a slight breeze entering your room from your opened window. as you continued to get ready for the day, your phone buzzed with a text from your dad. 

‘hey kid, can you come to my office real quick?’

you hadn’t spoken to your dad in weeks, not since he stormed out of the cabin after finding out what started the fight with your teammate. this was the longest you’d gone without speaking to him. you texted a thumbs up and made your way out of your room. 

luke was sitting on the coffee table in the middle of everyone, looking at you with wondering eyes, “where are you going?” 

“my dad wants to talk.” 

“do you want me to come with you?” luke got up from where he sat. you told him last night that you’d been avoiding your dad as much as possible, and he did the same with you. as much as you guys butted heads, luke knew that it was taking a toll on you. you shared that you were scared about what would become of your relationship with your dad. luke, being as close to his mom as you were with your dad, understood. he knew what it was like to feel like your biggest supporter was giving up on you. it wasn’t a feeling he’d wish on his worst enemy, and definitely not a feeling he’d ever wish on you. 

“no, it’s fine,” you clenched your jaw, shaking your head. 

luke’s shoulders slumped over as he stuttered in his actions to sit back down, “oh, okay–uh, let me know if you need anything.” 

you nodded and waved a small goodbye before exiting the cabin. your heart was pounding the entire time you made your way to your dad’s office. a lot of things had been weighing on you this summer– your probation, a possible dent on your record, your estrangement from your parents, luke– and it was a lot to handle. camp half blood was supposed to keep you away from the problems that existed in your day-to-day life, but it seemed to follow you. 

you entered your dad’s office to see him typing away on his laptop. his eyebrows raised when you walked in, motioning for you to shut the door. he closed his laptop and placed it in one of the drawers of his desk. he took a deep breath, “hey, kid.” 

“hi, dad,” you replied, suddenly feeling like a little kid again. you sat on the usual chair in front of his desk and leaned back, “what’s up?” 

“i, uh,” he cleared his throat, “i just wanted to say i’m sorry for how we left things. i shouldn’t have stormed out like that. i was just angry. but not at you, at myself for making you feel like you had to fight these battles for me.” 

he leaned across his desk to hold your hands, “you’re my kid, y’know. my job is to protect you, not the other way around. so i apologize if i ever made you feel like you had to come to my defense.” 

“and i’m sorry for being mia the last few weeks,” he chuckled, squeezing your hands, “i’ve been in contact with my lawyers and they’re working on making sure the charges against you don’t stick so i’ve been pretty busy with that.” 

“you think it’ll get sorted out?” you asked. 

“yeah, don’t worry about it. it’s finishing up and i think you might even be able to play this season,” your dad smiled. “but i have to deal with a pr crisis right now that sprung up on me this morning.” 

your shoulders relaxed at your dad’s words. at least your probation was getting sorted out. that was one less thing to worry about. you tugged on the sleeves of your turtleneck as you got comfortable on your chair, “what’s the pr crisis?” 

he sighed, pulling out his laptop, “something with the band.” 

you hoped your dad didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes. because you hadn’t been talking to your dad, he didn’t know about the recent developments between you and luke. you two didn’t show much pda outside of the cabin, scared that one of the campers would break their nda and post a picture of the two of you. neither of you were ready to tell the world about you two yet. it’s too soon. you didn’t even have the “what’s going to happen to us after summer?” conversation yet. 

“what happened?” 

“some pap pictures leaked. it’s of this new actress in hollywood and a guy leaving her hotel room. the press is reporting that the guy is luke. it looks a lot like him and you know the media– they run any story that’ll get them clicks even if it’s not fully fact-checked as long as they add the word ‘allegedly’ to the article,” he rolled his eyes, turning his computer to face you. “nobody knows where the pictures came from, so we don’t know if it’s actually luke or not, but i’ve been on the phone with may and their team all morning trying to do damage control. she’s telling the guys about the pictures right now.” 

at first glance, your heart dropped to your stomach. the guy did look an awful lot like luke. the rational part of you knew that this was probably taken before the two of you met because you’ve seen him every day since and he was practically imprisoned at chb all summer, but then you thought of your impromptu trip to achilles’ arcade and it made you want to throw up. if luke could sneak away with you like that, it would’ve been easy for him to do the same when he was alone. 

were the nights he didn’t spend in your bed because he was “writing” just an excuse to sneak off to meet up with the girl in the picture? she was gorgeous, after all. blonde, tall, the perfect new hollywood star. they’d make such a great power couple. the two rising stars in their respective industries, the perfect pair. 

the boy’s face, who may or may not be luke, was covered by his hood, but you can clearly see that he was kissing the girl deeply, with his hand placed on the curve of her back. the next picture was them with their fingers laced together as she led him into the hotel, giggling at something he said. the guy had a similar build as luke and dressed the same way as he did when he was having a lazy day– sweatpants, hoodie, and converses. 

bile made its way up your throat as you continued to scroll through the pictures. you looked at the time stamp of the photos and closed your eyes, wincing, when you saw that they were taken two days ago. luke didn’t sleep in your room two days ago, nor was he in the cabin. he showed up the next day saying that he was in the studio, trying to finish up the song so you would officially accept being his girlfriend. 

you squinted at a close-up picture of the pair, zoning in on the guy's hand. you breathed out a sigh of relief, fingers immediately clutching the ring that rested on your index finger. you turned the laptop back to your dad, “that’s not luke.” 

his eyebrows shot up, looking between you and his laptop screen, “how do you know?” 

“look at his rings,” you pointed at the bands around the guy’s fingers, “luke doesn’t wear a ring on his ring finger anymore. and look, the guy has a ring there and it’s gold.” 

“how are you so sure? what if he just decided to wear it that day?” 

“trust me,” you waved off, “he’s particular about his jewelry. he stopped wearing one on his ring finger a while ago. and luke doesn’t wear gold jewelry.” 

your dad narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, shutting his laptop, “i didn’t realize you were that close to luke that you had his accessories memorized.” 

“ah– well,” you cleared your throat, looking down at your feet. you felt caught. “s’your fault, really. you made us live together.” 

“is there something you need to tell me, kid?” 

you got up from your seat, quickly making your way to the door, “geez, dad, i didn’t realize the time! i promised clar that i’d help her with camp duties, so i gotta go. thanks for all your help on the probation and permanent record thing. you’re the best!” 

you didn’t bother to turn around to see your dad’s reaction to your excuse. you knew that he could see right through you. 

you dad called from behind you, his joking tone camouflaged by his “dad” voice, “tell castellan that if he does anything wrong, i’ll kill him and his career!” 

“love you!” 

your dad shook his head, biting back the smile on his face, “love you too, kid.” 

as you were rushing back to your cabin, you ran smack dab into luke who was frantic, worry evident on his features. his eyes widened when he saw you and he placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you so you didn’t fall at the impact. 

“five star,” he sighed out, out of breath, “i don’t know if mr. d told you but those pictures aren’t me, i swear!” 

you had two options– you could one, tell him that you knew it wasn’t him and put him out of his misery or two, you could pretend to not believe him and make him sweat. luke looked like he was about to get on his knees and beg you to believe him. you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a powerpoint presentation listing the reasons why it wasn’t him in those pictures. 

you pursed your lips, “i saw the pictures luke.” 

“and they weren’t me!” he said, exasperated. his eyebrows knitted in anxiety, as he chewed on the nail of his thumb, “you gotta believe me, babe. i don’t know who that guy is but i can promise you it’s not me.” 

you tried not to swoon at the pet name that left his lips. “how do i know that? you weren’t home the night those pictures were taken.” 

“i know it looks bad, but look,” he ran a hand through his curls. “i finished the song the boys wrote and you can go listen to it right now, but then that night, i got caught up with a song idea about you and i stayed up all night to write it. you can listen to the demo right now if you want. you can listen to all the demos you want if that gets you to believe me. i think the recordings have timestamps too, so you’ll see i was in there all nigh–”

“down, pretty boy,” you couldn’t keep it up any longer. luke looked like he was two seconds away from bursting into tears and as much as you wanted to hear him yap, you didn’t have it in your heart to drag it on. you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pressed a soft kiss to his lips and he instantly relaxed at the feeling. 

your lips moved in sync as his hands found your waist, pressing you closer to him. his tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you gladly granted. it was the sound of clarisse and chris inside the cabin, tapping against the windows that pulled you and luke apart. you both turned to look at your friends who all had shit-eating grins on their faces. 

travis and connor were behind the couple, shaking their heads, “get a fucking room, you heathens.” 

luke flipped them off and pressed a softer, more innocent kiss on your lips before you spoke. “i knew it wasn’t you. just wanted to see you sweat a little bit.” 

“that was mean,” he pouted, but he couldn’t fight off the smile on his face. he always seemed to smile after he kissed you. it made you want to kiss him again, starting a never-ending chain of kisses that would surely lead the two of you to be unproductive for the rest of the day. “i was so scared, five star, you have no idea. the fucker looked so much like me.” 

you laughed, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck, “trust me, i know. my heart dropped to my ass when i first saw them, but i knew it wasn’t you.” 

“how’d you know?” 

“the rings,” you flushed, thinking about how crazy you must sound knowing these small details about him.

“shit, five star,” he whistled, surprised. there was a warmth in his chest that spread throughout the rest of his body at the idea of you paying attention to these things about him. “nothing can get past you, huh? i didn’t even notice that.”

“yeah, at least you know not to sneak around behind me because i’ll find out,” you teased, lacing your fingers together as you slowly made your way up the steps of the cabin. luke stood in his spot, pulling on your hand to get you to to turn around. you walked over to him, confused, “what’s up?” 

“y’know i wouldn’t think of doing that, right?” he asked, voice suddenly serious. “i would never do that to you.” 

your eyes softened as a wistful look appeared on your face. you kissed his cheeks, relishing in the feeling of luke wrapping his arms around your torso in a tight hug. you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, placing a feather-light kiss on his jugular, “yeah, yeah.” 

“‘m serious,” he pulled away, holding your face in his hands. he was staring at you intently, making sure that you were hearing his words. you never gave him an indication that you didn’t trust him, but luke knew that it was better to tell you these things straight up if he wanted to have a real relationship with you. he knew it takes a toll on the people he dates (not that he’s had any relationships like what he has with you) to see these bullshit stories online. if he was in your position, he knew the reassurance would help. luke placed a kiss on your forehead, “i wouldn’t do anything to mess this up if i can help it, five star.”

you let out a forced laugh, awkwardly shifting in his grasp, “yeah, given that my dad controls your contract, i know you wouldn’t.” 

luke frowned, “not because of that.” 

“uh huh,” you said, feeling too vulnerable right now. you didn’t know how to handle this situation, so you coped with humor, “he likes you so don’t worry, your contract extension is practically in the bag.” 

“y/n.” 

you tensed at luke’s use of your real name. he never called you by your name. he always called you by the nickname he gave you when he first met you. five star. you knew luke wasn’t in the mood to joke around. “luke, it’s fine.” 

“i don’t want to pick a fight,” he sighed, playing with the hem of your shirt, “but i just need to hear you say that you believe me when i say that. i wouldn’t cheat on you or do anything to make you feel like i ever would.” 

your voice shook as you spoke, “what if you’re just saying that because it’s still summer and we see each other every day? what’s gonna happen when i’m back in school and you’re out in the world traveling and living your rockstar life?” 

luke’s heart broke at your words. did you really think that he would forget about all of this once september rolled around? as if you didn’t consume his thoughts every day since he met you, as if he didn’t count down the minutes until he got to see you again when he was forced to be away from you because he had things to do, as if he didn’t have a sinking feeling in his stomach when you weren’t next to him. he was starting to think you didn’t understand just how deeply he felt about you even when you assured him that you did understand. 

“i’m not gonna lie, long distance is gonna be hard,” he said, “but we can figure it out. i know it.” 

“i never knew you were such an optimist, castellan.” 

luke laughed at that. if only you knew how many times he psyched himself out of making a move on you because of his own pessimism. it only changed recently, when he finally decided to say fuck it and go for it. “for you? always. i’d be stupid not to be. you’re a good thing, five star.” 

luke fucking castellan. you pressed your head into his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against your face. he gave you a tight squeeze, placing a kiss on the crown of your head. he loved having you like this, all soft and cuddly with him like you didn’t want to let him go. he should be scared at how quickly he was falling for you, how attached he already felt. 

you kissed his lips again, pulling away with a smile, “so babe huh?” 

“babe, baby, sweetheart,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss you again. “anythin’ you want.”

[rafeysbafey]

hey! i love your fics and was wondering if you could do a fic based on mitskis song ‘my love mine all mine’ ( mostly the part “nothing i do belongs to me”)

I was thinking maybe reader thinks rafe is using her for s-x and maybe she thinks that rafe doesn’t love her and becomes distant?

if you can’t it’s totally okay! 🩷🎅🏻

LOWKEY dont know how to feel abt this fic i feel like i went off track im so sorry in advance

you sat in silence with the comforter pulled up to your chest as your eyes trailed after rafe, watching as he left to start a shower.

no aftercare, no checking to see if you were okay.

‘cause my love is mine, all mine

you and rafe were never dating, is what you had to constantly remind yourself.

but even with the whole ‘friends with benefits’ deal, he would still treat you like his girlfriend.

“coffee for you, m’lady,” he bowed, sticking out his hand to give you an iced latte.

you took it with a funny look, teasing him as you spoke, “is it poisoned?”

he gasped at your response, faking offense with sad eyes.

or when the two of you would lay in comfortable silence after sex, your body fitting perfectly next to his as he drew shapes across your skin.

“you hungry?” he asked, paying attention to how your stomach growled softly.

“only if you are.”

“ill take that as a yes,” he chuckled before grabbing his phone and typing in your favorite take-out restaurant.

but here you were, sitting in his bed by yourself as you listened to the water hit the tiled floor.

i love mine, mine, mine

deciding you weren’t going to wait for him, you slide out the bed and grabbed your clothes that were carelessly thrown across the room.

you didn’t hear much from him the day you left, but when it was close to midnight the next night, your phone pinged.

‘rafeeeeeee’

want 2 come ovr

?

you decided to ignore his text, not caring to respond as you tossed your phone to the side and continued to watch your show on Netflix.

the weekend went by with you ignoring rafe, leaving the boy confused as he left voicemails asking what was wrong.

it was cheesy, but you guys really didn’t spend even a day apart, always hanging out or sleeping over at each others houses.

you were getting ready for school when you heard a car honk outside, your brows furrowing together before realizing who it was.

rafe always picked you up for school, you just forgot to tell him not to today.

sighing, you answered the front door but froze when you came face to face with the boy, an iced latte in his hand and a frown covering his features.

“you’ve been ignoring me,” he automatically said, hurt laced in his voice as you stood there in silence.

“can we not do this right now?” you asked, voice quiet as if someone else were listening to the conversation.

“i just want to know why my girl hasn’t been responding to my texts or calls.”

your body flinched ever so slightly at the words ‘my girl,’ catching you off guard as you looked at him in shock.

“im not ‘your girl,’ rafe,” you stated, although the quiver in your voice seemed to give it away.

“you’re always my girl-”

“then why have you been treating me so different lately?”

nothing in the world belongs to me

it was his turn to freeze in place, mouth opening to speak but nothing coming out.

“I just-” he cut himself off before running his free hand through his hair, “i just got scared, okay?”

“scared of what?”

“falling in love with you!”

your eyes widened at his confession, rafe’s mouth immediately snapping shut at the realization.

“I shouldn’t have said that- i shouldn’t have said anything.”

“rafe,” you mumbled, eyes searching in his for any sign of regret or bluff.

“you shouldn’t be afraid, i think- no i know,” you corrected, “i know im falling for you.”

his shoulders fell in relief at your response, eyes lighting up as a small blush painted his face.

“really? you’re not just saying that, right?”

you let out a small laugh before shaking your head, “im not.”

“well, will you take this iced latte and make me the happiest man on earth, and be my girlfriend?” he stuck out the cup as he got on one knee.

“rafe you’re making this weird!” you laughed, grabbing both his shoulders and yanking him up.

“but yes, i would love an iced latte.”

“and?” he asked, brow raising as he pretended to get impatient.

“oh, yes i will be your girlfriend.”

but my love mine, all mine, all mine

[bleedingintogold]

The medic leaned over his captain, wiping away the sweat on his forehead with a damp cloth. The man himself was out cold, as he had been for the past day. Tan skin had become a pale shade and a strong body had been reduced to a limp shell of itself. Heavy breathing became the only thing that showed he was still alive and struggling to be.

He wasn't getting better.

The wound had festered and the infection must have gotten into his bloodstream. Medic had been too late to notice and the captain had been too occupied trying to keep as many of his men alive as he could whilst completing their mission. The platoon stopped advancing yesterday when their captain collapsed right in front of them.

But the general had had enough. One man wasn't enough reason to abandon their assignment.

"He can't even sit up by himself, sir! He won't survive if we-" "We aren't bringing him. He will stay here," "With all due respect sir, this platoon needs their medic with them-" "I said that your captain is staying here. Not you," The medic's heart dropped when the general's words started to register. He was being ordered to leave behind his captain. His brother by everything but blood. "Look at him, medic. I doubt he will still be alive by tommorow. You're wasting your supplies," "General! He isn't dead yet! He just needs time-" "Time that we do not have, soldier. We will move by sunrise tommorow. We are advancing without him,"

A small whine answered the general before the medic could, making both men turn to the weak body on the cot. The general sighs as he walks to the young man's side, placing a gentle hand on a too warm forehead. The captain's eyes were hardly open, but he was conscious and had heard the whole conversation. "I'm sorry, son. You were a good soldier and one of my best men. But this mission is of higher importance," "My men...take care of 'em, sir," "I will. For your own good, you need to let go. You don't need to hold on anymore, son. You've done your part," The medic's hand trembled as he watched the two high ranks.

"m' sorry, sir...dying...is not as easy as I thought," "I know. Which is why I will help you. You don't have to suffer like this anymore, son," The general said as he passed the medic a small packet of white powder. "Sir?" "It's cyanide. Mix some into water and feed it to him tonight," "You're...you're asking me to kill him, sir?" "He's in pain, soldier. You're going to do him a favour,"

The captain was partially conscious now but he had seen the powder. Medic made the mistake of meeting the captain's eyes, seeing the fear in them under the haze of sickness. "I will allow you to bury him properly before we depart. Make sure it is done by sunrise," the general said before leaving the tent.

-----

Medic cradled his captain's upper torso, the mixed concoction of poison ready in a canteen. The captain's head laid limp against Medic's shoulder. Medic noticed that his captain was trembling.

No, wait. It was him.

He was trembling.

A weak voice pulled the medic out of his haze. "Medic...I...I don't want to die," a voice he didn't recognize said, soft but shaky. "But...you're in...pain. You won't survive anyway-" "I don't wanna die...please...I'm scared..."

Medic put the canteen down, instead wrapping his arms tightly around his captain. The captain was built bigger than medic, but he seemed incredibly small in his brother's arms. "Okay. Okay. You're not going to die, alright? I'm not...I won't do it," "But...the orders..." "Fuck the orders. I am a medic. Your medic. My task is to keep the men alive, not kill them,"

The captain didn't answer, savouring the warmth of his brother holding him.

[mythologyolympics]

Ancient World Dashboard Simulator

🐢 aristotlestortoise Follow

I'm so sick of these philosophers waving dead chickens around to prove their point like that's not contributing to unnecessary food waste when children are starving in Gaul

🦷 diogenessimp Follow

and who says they didn't eat the chicken afterwards you presumptuous garum sipper

besides how would that benefit a starving child in gaul diogenes did that in athens thats like 6000 stadia away from gaul

🐢 aristotlestortoise Follow

As if donating a day-old chicken that had been used as a prop isn't a hazard for food poisoning or something geez

How about you bring in a live chicken and demonstrate your point with that and then donate it to a godsdamned farmer who can do something with it

🦷 diogenessimp Follow

look neither of us understands diogenes whole school of thought as well as he does and if he thinks using poultry for props is the best choice then imma trust he knows what he's talking about

🦣 giantwoolybones

do you guys know that you are arguing about a dead chicken

24,874 notes

👨‍👦 corophilus

not to be an art critic on main or anything but has this sculptor ever heard of a dynamic pose

#a boy this age would be moving!!

3 Notes

✊ p-o-p-u-l-a-r-i-s Follow

The people just don't seem to care about how Caligula keeps beginning new construction projects with public funds. People are homeless and starving and he puts up a new theater in the middle of the city as if we need that.

Now he's claiming to be a god?? Plus there's rumors he has sex with his horse.

It's very important that you contact the members of the senate to let them know the people are ready to rise up if they don't depose Caligula. We should get organized and flood the streets.

🎽 crixusstan

I see you not reblogging this. Come on, this should have 200k notes

14,381 Notes

💸 achaemenid Follow

Dude, this invention of the coin is so iconic. Cyrus is gonna go down in history for this one. I mean that in a good way.

🪙 lydianmetallurgy Follow

Sorry but Cyrus stole the entire concept of the coin from us and I'm sick of people acting like we didn't have contributions to make to advancements in science and culture just because we were conquered by your stupid empire. Cyrus is a tyrant and just wants to gather as much power as he can.

🦁 daniyye

Cyrus let my people go back to our homeland, so he's all right by me

#by the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion #now we don't have to do that anymore!!

18 Notes

🥇 gladiatorheadtohead Follow

Remember, you're voting for who you think would win the fight, not who you like the best.

24 Notes

🐺 lyca

just left my den and there's just 2 human babies lying on the ground all alone

wtf do i do

🐺 lyca

so i happen to already be lactating so i guess... i just have 2 more cubs now?

🐺 lyca

guys these babies are so cute. i think they're going to do great things one day

#personal #do not reblog i mean it this time 6 Notes

🍆 miletus-leather Follow

The best sex toy shop in Miletus. Come see our selection!

🦌 artemisbow Follow

I'm not one to harsh on a small business trying to make it but I've been to this shop and women are an afterthought here. You'd think the only people interested in dildos were men the way they act here.

🍆 miletus-leather Follow

Women should be weaving and taking care of their children, not coming into our sex shop.

😈 hermescock Follow

K

🐐 blessedsatir

U

64 Notes

[the-modern-typewriter]

So I was wandering if you could please do a writing prompt based off of “ she is a failed experiment and he is the success of the same experiment.” I know that might not be enough to flog off of and a am sorry if you can’t. I also want to thank you in advance.

"Come with me."

An alarm rang shrilly throughout the labs; no doubt for him, of course for him. He stood in front of her, devastatingly perfect, and held out a hand for her to take.

She stared up at him, eyes wide and heart in her throat.

"We don't have much time," he said. "Come with me, Katie."

KT-068 pushed carefully to her feet. The thick, one way window of her cell had been shattered. Glass dug at her bare feet, oozing blood onto the floor. He flinched. She didn't.

"You're running," she said, softly. "Leaving."

"Yes." He waved his hand impatiently. He took a step closer, his shoes crunching over the debris. He looked ready to pick her up and carry her. Away from the broken glass, away from all of it. "Katie, please."

"I'll slow you down."

"You will if we keep debating this!"

They wouldn't have expected him to come for her. Then again, they likely wouldn't have expected him to try and escape either, which made her smile. As for leaving....oh the wanting ached in her, fierce enough to be frightening.

"I'm not like you," she said. "You'd get further on your own. I don't - you should go. Run. Leave."

"Do you want to come?" he demanded, searching her face.

She looked down. "Thank you for thinking of me."

"Katie." It was a growl of pure frustration, pure...something.

She glanced up. His eyes were watery; begging. For her. It seemed impossible. She swallowed hard.

The experiment looked at enhancing blood properties to make it more regenerative. A medicine. A youth serum. Her blood healed her, but at the crucial stage of giving it to other people it always killed them. Poisoned them horribly from the inside out.

He had succeeded at even that final stage. He was their victory march. His blood, his essence, was not some inherently selfish thing. Even now...

He took her hand, drawing her up into his arms. He seemed unconcerned by the blood that would hurt all others - not that anyone had ever tested if she could hurt even him. Why take the risk?

"Careful," she said, anyway, clutching his shoulders. "I don't - you have to be careful. Stay back. Don't let me contaminate you."

He made a rude noise at that and they both pressed a little closer to each other, despite her words.

"I'm not leaving you here to rot with them," he said. "I know I phrased it as a question, but...bloody hell. They treat you worse than me."

"Well, I did kill quite a lot of them."

"That wasn't your fault."

It had felt like her fault. It always felt like her fault.

He cupped her cheek, gaze blazing. "Do you want to come?" he asked again.

The alarm continued wailing; the sounds of movement and panic closer than it had been before. They were running out of time.

"What if they don't like me out there?" KT-068 whispered. "In the world? What if they think I'm a freak? Or a monster? What if - what if something happens and people get hurt again?"

"Then I'll help them. And I like you."

"Oh."

"I wouldn't have survived this place without you," he said. "I don't care if you slow me down. Whenever I dreamed of freedom it was for both of us. Don't you see?"

There were a thousand things to see in his eyes.

She exhaled a trembling breath. "Can we go to the pier? I've always wanted to see the ocean."

A smile lit up his face. "Yes. We'll have chips and candy floss and go on all the rides. We'll travel to so many places."

"I'd like that. I want that. I - I want to come with you."

He carried her across the glass.

Her feet had already healed by the time he set her down again, outside the remnants of her cell. "Can you walk?" he still asked. "Can you run?"

She could have run even if every step was agony, if it meant getting out of there.

It was her turn to take his hand, to pull him forward. "Just watch me."

In the end, she left a trail of blood and bodies across the facility.

But they were free.

[heartscrypt]

tfw you sign your soul over to an eldritch fear deity in order to regain some semblance of control over your own life (tma au)

nobody understands how fucking crazy i am about this au. its tormenting me. also epel is here as well he's corruption he has a lot of worms in him sorry in advance

closeups + design notes + au jamil fun facts under the cut!

(tw some body horror stuff? eye stuff)

design notes

his hair jewelry has been replaced with spider silk cocoons / string. also very obviously spider themed hair gem thing

spider eyes! both in the way of he has 8 human eyes and actual spider eyes on his neck

web tattoos. they spin outwards and grow in a kind of mesmerizing hypnotic pattern when he uses his powers

his braids now form a spiderweb pattern. hes also prematurely greying a little LOLL

his belt chains form a spiderweb pattern as well

he has piercings! an erl piercing across his nose bridge and four piercings on each ear

his pants are based off the spider-tailed horned viper-- a snake whose tail has evolved to look like a spider so the birds it feeds on will mistake its tail for prey

au jamil notes

his backstory pretty much remains the same honestly

except when he's around 11, instead of getting poisoned and falling into a coma, he gets trapped in a buried-aligned artifact that he touched while cleaning one of the asim treasure rooms

nobody could find him for weeks and kalim was really tearing up the whole estate about it because he insisted that jamil would never run off or disappear without a reason

jamil escapes the buried by taking the assistance of the web (he does it in the way of "i don't know what's going on but this thing is reaching out to help me and i don't want to die so fuck it" but he's still accepting the web into his life regardless)

after two weeks they find him covered in cobwebs and dust in the treasure room and he gets scolded for making everyone worry

he doesn't even bother trying to explain to people what happened to him because he knows it's too unbelievable for them. he spins a lie and he's surprised by how natural it is to just Lie to people

jamil's powers as an avatar of the web manifest visually as him "pulling strings" out of people's eyes. like unwinding their irises like they're spools of thread. if you've seen the prev post on web!jamil you know what it looks like

if he leaves the iris-strings half unwound they become very suggestible, very easily manipulated

however if he yanks out the iris-strings fully, he can turn the other person into a complete blank slate. no thoughts head empty. basically an empty cocoon of a person. he tends not to do this because 1) it's very conspicuous and 2) it renders the victim completely useless to the web

he has to concentrate very hard to do this and he can usually pull on only one person's iris-strings at a time

[angry-tarot]

a message from your pain

talking about suffering is hard, but ultimately necessary. welcome to this pac, I am here to shed light on your wounds in ways that are helpful. by the way, sorry if the artwork is triggering, I tried to find the perfect ones that really encapsulate what deep pain and despair feel like, but the messages might be more soothing than the pics lol.

welcome to your reading ! just wanted to say thanks in advance for stopping by 🫡

Pile one 🖤

You're putting your sword down. Confrontation is a no no for you, isn't it? You rather die than pick up a fight again. You swallow your words, your boundaries are non existent, you're constantly on edge and anxious. Hear me out, pile one. When you're putting your sword down, you're not actually putting it down. You're shoving it right in your own stomach. I'm not telling you to become angry and start fighting everyone around you. But if you keep quiet, taking it all in, you're going to become sick. You want to keep the peace, but not your peace. You want to keep yourself small, not bothersome, for these people's comfort. If talking to the people around you is so conflict inducing, why bother having these people around at all? If your boundaries aren't heard or even allowed to be set, why bother having these people around you AT ALL? If you must live with them, consider moving somewhere more peaceful, like a family member. Take action if your words aren't welcomed. Leave. Remove yourself. Stop taking in poison, because the longer you do, the longer the healing will take. You're already feeling awful. Your suffering exist because you feel obligated to be around people who hurt you and demand you to be silent. Set yourself free. And don't try to talk to them about it. You will have to unpack all of this on your own, or with other people who will understand and hear you. Process everything you buried deep within you by journaling, speaking out loud, punching a pillow. Just let it all out. Short them you will have to slowly heal from all this crystalized, internalized abuse. Long term, recognize this pattern: whenever you feel the need to be quiet to not bother someone else, leave, and never go back to the people who did this to you.

Pile two 🖤

Oh, your pile actually resonates with the pic you chosen. I see an artist, a creative or someone who does something out of the norm. You could even be a witch, like me. The thing is, you have internalized a lot of criticism, and no longer feel as passionate as you did before. You want to create and be who you were before, but you lost your drive and motivation. It seems a lot of conflict used to exist or still exists because of your hobby, career or spirituality, and you felt like it lost the point. You could've tried to prove something to these people, you could've tried to argue, and nothing worked. Even your own progress wasn't matching to your expectations. So what if they were right? Your spark died, but now that you have worked so hard, it's hard to let go. It became your personality, it used to be your comfort, but now there's only a shadow of what it used to be. I'm not going to tell you whether you keep going or not, this is your decision. But you can regain the spark if you want to. But try to protect it better this time, whatever it is that you do. Hide it, if it is possible. Avoid taking about it to people who are committed to misunderstanding you. And go backwards. Reconnect with it, by understanding what made you so fascinated and entranced by it in the beginning. Maybe, that vision is no longer appealing, and if so, create another one. Restart from scratch, but have a vision, just like you did in the beginning. Say to yourself you are committed to falling in love again with your craft, if that's what you choose. If not, it's always ok to let it go. You can always find another something to be passionate about.

Pile three 🖤

Someone taught you that money was the only thing in life. That it defined your worth and value as a person. That nothing else was as important. That your safety was defined by the amount of money you had, from a young age or a very vulnerable period in your life. So your mind attached to the idea that if you didn't had money, you were in mortal danger, you were worthless and a nobody. Your relationship with money, regardless of how much you have or not, is distorted. You could be stable and still feel like it's not enough, or you could be just starting in adulthood and feeling very scared of the future. Money is important, yes. But it's exactly this fear, this pressure, this feeling like your life depends on it, it's paralyzing you, it's traumatizing and deeply agonizing. What will help you is basically lots of cbt. Ever heard of catastrophizing? Cognitive distortions? These could be playing a large role on your mindset and consequently, the amount of money you're able to make. These tools of cbt can help you relax and see things a bit more rationally. Since it's personal to each of you, I cannot fix your fears, but I can give you some of my tools for you to fix them yourself.

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 5

This is a short but not so sweet chapter. I’m sorry in advance for what I’m about to do <3

Warnings: so much angst, mild torture and violence, injury to characters (let me know if I missed anything)

This is the first chapter I’ll put a big spoiler warning on, it follows the events at the end of A Court of Mist and Fury. I would HIGHLY suggest not reading this if you haven’t finished that book.

WC:4.5k

Previous Parts: [Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

It all went wrong so quickly. So quickly, I knew there was never any chance it would have gone right. We woke before the sun had risen. My mind instantly screamed to leave the moment I saw the bone white castle in front of us. But instead, we followed Feyre. Deeper and deeper into the castle.The cauldron urging her to find it. 

Cassian followed nearly a flight ahead of us, clearing the few guards with ease. If only I knew why it had been so easy. 

And then I saw it. It filled the room with something so dark, I didn’t have a name for it. 

“Hurry.” Was all Mor said as Feyre approached it almost timidly. 

“Listen.” Azriel whispered. I felt it then. I thought it had been my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. But as I took a deep breath, it seemed to be coming from the cauldron itself. Feyre walked towards it, eyes clouded and unfocused. Mor cried Feyre’s name as the other female reached into her cloak, hands grabbing onto the pieces of the book. I realized seconds too late as did Mor. Feyre laid the pieces atop one another. The world did not explode around us. A good omen, or simply holding its breath for something worse. I did not know. I watched as Feyre’s lips formed words I could not hear. Then the small trail of red streaked down her face. Azriel’s hands reached out so fast I almost missed it until I sensed the new addition in the room. Jurian. I took a step back, closing the distance between Mor and Cassian. Azriel retreated back a few paces as well. Putting himself between Feyre and the resurrected human. Rhys was instantly at her side. Hissing words at Jurian. The male only seemed to brush them off. I tugged on the sleeve of Cassian’s leather. A silent plea for us to run the hell away. The fog would not roll from my fingers. Frozen behind some new, unknown force. But I stayed silent, not taking my eyes off of my family as they spoke with Jurian. 

“I was sent to distract you-” The joy in those few words was enough to send my mind into a panic. I surged forward to pull them back to the stairs. “You won’t leave this castle alive.” 

Jurian tilted his head as he eyed up Rhys, my proximity to him.

“Do you know what it was like? To be forced to watch everything, to be alive in that ring. Not able to sleep or breathe, or feel.” 

“It must not have been so bad if you joined her master.” 

Rhys’ response seemed to be sucked from his chest. And I followed his eyeline and felt the air leave my lungs. The familiar face of the King of Hybern soaking us all in. 

“I’m almost disappointed you didn’t see the trap, it was oh so…easy.” 

The king of Hybern spoke, distracting all of us just long enough that no one could stop Jurian as he drove an ash arrow through Azriel’s chest. A twisted, gnarled scream ripped through my chest as I saw Azriel fall to his knees. His precious wings drooped to the ground. I scrambled over to his side before a pair of invisible hands wrapped around me, pinning me in place. A cry left my lips as I saw Rhys and Cassian struggle to haul Azriel to his feet.As the force released me, Mor’s support at my side was the sole reason I was standing. 

We marched up the stairs behind the King of Hybern. Soft sobs racked through my whole body as Mor all but carried me up the steps. My eyes did not leave Azriel’s frame. Holding my breath at every passing second, waiting for the moment Hybern would release the poison into his heart. We didn’t stop moving until we entered the throne room

The throne room ripped me from my body, catapulting me back into that vile place under the mountain. Except it was not Amarantha that was waiting for us. It was something more horrifying altogether as I watched Lucien and Tamlin step out of the shadows. 

My legs finally gave out. Mor’s hand wrapping under my arm to stop my knees from colliding with the hard marble floor. Feyre was shaking her head from side to side, like she could shake the sight from her memory. “Tamlin…” I started to take a step before a force pushed me onto my back. A snarl ripped from Cassian's chest as I yelped. My breath getting knocked out of me in a loud whoosh. I could only sit and watch as Tamlin’s green eyes swept greedily over Feyre’s figure, taking in the Illyrian leathers she was dressed in. It seemed it was only Lucien’s hand on Tamlin’s shoulder that stopped him from lunging at her. 

“What have you done?” Her voice a cold whisper. 

“It was easy really. I return you to your rightful place, and Tamlin, in exchange, would allow my shoulders to pass through his court and use it as a base when we brought down that stupid wall.” Pure panic flowed through me as I fought against Hyben’s power to try to get to Feyre, to put myself between Feyre and the High Lord of the Spring Court. I could only manage to sit up with my hands resting beside me. 

“Tamlin…please.” I panted at the effort it took to speak the words. “Don’t do this.” I searched for any other options. “Take me instead. Leave her here.” Despite the arrow through his chest, Azriel growled lowly at my words. For the first time since we arrived, Tamlin looked at me. 

“That’s what you think this is all about?” He gave a single sharp chuckle. “This isn’t about revenge for you leaving me. This is only about returning what was stolen from me.” Feyre tensed as he said her name, a command to obey in his tone. Lucien’s metal eye was whirling around in his head as he spoke Tamlin’s name. A hint of doubt and fear in his voice. A tone I had never heard from the red haired male. It felt like the world was moving in slow motion around me. My mind desperately trying to figure out how to get out of this, how to rip out that arrow from Azriel’s chest, how to get Tamlin as far away from my family as I possibly could. 

“The last part of my plan is simple. Break the bond between you two.” He pointed a bony finger to my brother then Feyre. I felt every muscle in Rhy’s body tense beside me. To his credit, he didn’t lunge at the king. The whole room took a collective breath. 

“No.” Feyre’s voice broke around the single word. I could hear the way her heart broke in that single syllable. 

“Please.” I said around a sob. 

Hybern turned his cold eyes to me. “How else is Tamlin supposed to have his bride? He can’t have Feyre dear running off to a different court every month. We saw what happened last time.” 

“I told you not to come for me that I lef-”

“We all saw that you weren’t okay. He took advantage of that, turned you against your home, against me. He stole you from me. 

“She was going to die in that house.” Anger flared through me for the first time since we arrived. 

“Don’t talk about things you know nothing about.” He spit at me, not taking his eyes off of Feyre. 

“Don’t you dare-” 

“I’ll come with you.” I swore I felt my heart stop beating. “If you leave them alone. Let them go.” 

“You’d let them- Feyre, they’re monsters.” Tamlin almost pleaded. His voice sickly sweet. Despite his words, he crept closer to Feyre, hand outstretched. He lunged at the spot where Feyre had been standing not a second before. She was now standing across the room. I felt no satisfaction in the way Rhys’ fist made contact with Tamlin’s face, knocking the male off of his feet. Feyre was at Rhys’ side in an instant. The unmistakable combined scent filling the air. Tamlin went deathly still. A look I had never seen crossed the High Lords face as Hybern confirmed what he had already realized. 

“I’m sorry.” her tone honest. 

More soldiers filled the room and I lost the last bit of control I had as I saw the color drain even further from Azriel’s face. 

“You fucking traitor. Do you know what he is going to do with that cauldron, do to all of us?” I could not stop the tears that tracked down my face. 

“There are many, many things I’m going to do with it.” He snapped and the Cauldron appeared in the room. “Starting with this.” Fire flickered in Feyre’s psalm at the sight.

“There she is. Made from all seven courts. Did you really plan to destroy the cauldron? You could rule the world with that book by your side.” He noted her silence, tilting his head with a sickening smile. “You’ll tell me soon enough. Your master made a bargain and you don’t want to know what happens to those who break their word” 

“If you take me from my mate, from my home. I will find a way to destroy you. You, your whole fucking court and everything you love.” 

“Feyre, please. Just come with us.” Lucien begged Feyre. The king’s laugh echoed through the throne room. 

“That won’t be necessary. Because you will find it in your best interest to behave, Feyre Archeron.” The four queens filled into the room but their guards did not stop as they hauled into two small figures. I heard the cry that left Feyre as we all saw the faces of her sisters and thrown at the feet of the King of Hybern. 

Feyre did not move, she wasn’t breathing. She could only stare blankly at her sisters. Elain who was sobbing even through the gag in her mouth and Nesta who yowled like a rabid animal. “If you touch them I will end you all.”

“Do you hear that,” The king of Hybern purred to the queens. “Slaughtering and destroying, that’s all they are capable of. Ending life. While I plan to give it. Now will you let me show you what the cauldron can do?”

“Please. I’m proof, Jurian is proof. I’ll give you whatever you want, just leave them out of it.” Feyre pleaded, the King just gave her a wicked smile. 

“Just show us.” A bored drone from the eldest queen. 

“Don’t look so down, Feyre. Isn’t this what you told our dear friend Ianthe about. How you would miss your sisters terribly. Now you don’t have to. Now you three can stay young together.” 

“Don’t pl-” 

A force knocked the wind out of Feyre.

“Bring them here.”

And then the room exploded. Feyre exploded around us. It felt like drowning and burning and when you come in on a cold day to a hot fire. My skin buzzed. Under that magic, a scream, Cassian’s scream pierced through me. I felt the force of it knock me off my feet once more. And then it was gone. And Azriel was crouched over me. Mor around Cassian. Cassian. One look at his wings and I felt like I was going to be sick. The room broke into chaos. Mor and Rhys both lunged for the king. Tamlin going for Feyre. And I could do nothing more than cling to the male next to me. Azriel let out a cry of pain as Mor pulled out a dagger from her belt. I froze. Mor looked back to him and let her knife fall to the floor. Mor stumbled to Azriel’s other side. 

“Start with the pretty one first.” Feyre only moved an inch before Azriel was writhing in my hold. My hand went to wipe away the strands of hair that stuck to his face. 

“You’ll be okay. It’s okay.” I whispered against his forehead. I could feel his sweat against my skin and my stomach rolled. I closed my eyes tight, praying to whatever god was still listening that this was all going to be a dream. Azriel’s hand resting on mine made me open my eyes, tears streaming down my face at the streaks of blood his hand left on mine. 

This was no dream and I could do nothing but watch as the guards struggled with Elain, pulling her up to the mouth of the cauldron. Nesta looked like she wished nothing more than to rip everyone's throat out with her bare hands. More guards joined her side to hold her back. 

“Stop this. We didn’t agree to this.” Tamlin called out, an unfamiliar horror etched into his face. Jaw and shoulders tight. When the guards continued dragging Elain to the cauldron, Tamlin pounced. Even I cried out as he was slammed to the ground by that invisible force. He strained but did not rise. 

With a blood curdling scream that drowned out Feyre’s last plea, we watched Elain get thrown into the almost black water of the cauldron. Seconds passed like hours, she hadn’t resurfaced after a few moments and both Feyre and Nesta were holding their breath. Eyes locked on the horror in front of them. Suddenly, the cauldron tipped over and Elain’s limp body tumbled to the floor. Feyre let out a sob as Elain gasped for air. I was ashamed of the relief that flowed through me. Her skin had a slight shimmer to it, ears already elongating. It worked. 

Elain was already shivering, her nightgown soaked through. 

“So it works?” One of the queens spoke, if I had been able to move I would have punched her in her perfect face. 

“The next one if you please.” Hybern spoke to the guards holding Nesta. In all my years, I had never seen someone fight as hard as Nesta did in those moments. She almost slipped out of the guards hold three times before they managed to get her to the edge of the cauldron. Before she could be dunked, I watched as she pointed a long finger at Hybern. A curse, a promise that he will pay for this moment until he stopped breathing. Nesta spent longer under than Elain did, each second passing by slower than the next. Feyre vomited as the time passed. Rhys scrambled to her side.  Nesta was dumped onto the floor beside her sister. Just like her sister, she was faintly glowing. But there was something different, unsettling. I couldn’t place my finger on it but Nesta felt like she was more than fae as she clutched her sister. 

Nesta shoved Lucien off, shoved the cloak he had wrapped around her shivering body and replaced it with her arms. Sobbing her sister's name into her hair. She rocked her like a babe. 

Between my own sobs I almost missed it. That one whispered sentence from Lucien. Mate. I never hated him more than I did right at this moment. I let my mind fill with what I would do to the both of them when we left this room. Imagined the blood was not Azriel’s but Tamlin’s or Lucien’s. That it was them screaming and not my family as it was torn apart in front of me. 

Feyre collapsed to the ground so suddenly it pulled me from my violent thoughts. Light so blinding I buried my head into Azriel’s shoulder. My hand blindly reached to cover his eyes. I sensed the light fading and peaked my head up enough to see Feyre on the ground, clutching and tearing at her head. Then she looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. She pushed Rhys away from her and scrambled towards Tamlin. This has to be a sick dream. 

“What did you do to me?” Feyre cried out, clinging to Tamlin like he wasn’t the reason we were in this mess. 

“How’d you do it Feyre?” Rhys’ voice wrapped around the words like a siren song. I couldn’t make sense of what was happening around me until Mor gasped. 

“What did you do to that girl?” 

“Break the bond.” Feyre sniffled. Crawling a pace towards the king of Hybern. The small flicker of her eyes back to Rhys made it come crashing down on me. She was not leaving with us. She was going to go with Tamlin. I watched as the scene unfolded around me. I cried harder. Azriel’s hand tightened on my own. They would pay for all of this, one day. I would make sure of that myself. They were-

Rhys’ scream made every hair on my body stand up. Feyre’s own screamed wove in with his and I covered my ear not pressed into Azriel’s chest with my free hand. Unable to hear the sounds around me any longer. I rocked back and forth, desperately trying to calm down. But the sobs continued as the screams did. I couldn’t take this. Hearing my family's agony was going to kill me, I was certain. Then it all went quiet. A haunting quiet that left my ears ringing. 

Tamlin ripped off the glove on Feyre’s left hand and found nothing but perfectly smooth skin. I clutched onto my brother's jacket as he crawled over to us. He wrapped his arms around our group as best as he could. 

“You’re free to go, Rhysand. His poison is gone. Shame about the wings.” He taunted my brother. I grabbed at his jacket so hard my hands shook. Fiery pain at the small motion. I turned my eyes to Feyre, to this brave and beautiful girl who once again had sacrificed everything for the people I loved. I let my thank you echo in my head, roaring in the mess that was left. It was in that split second that Mor winnowed next to the huddled newly-fae females. And winnowed away. Rhys winnowing us at the same moment. 

I couldn’t breathe. So afraid to even move. I laid on the floor until Rhys pulled me up to my feet, my unsteady legs nearly buckling under me. My eyes looked around, not believing what they saw. The warm wood of the walls in our townhome. Rhys’ arms wrapped around me, pull.ing me tight against him. My arms hung limply at my side. I felt like I was floating away, like it had been me that was pulled into that inky black water and sent adrift. 

“Stay with me.” Rhys whispered into my hair. I fought through the haze in my head and eyes, clawing my way back into the very real room I was now standing in. My muscles locked tight, an ice cold feeling traveling down my spine. A cry left my lips and I pulled myself out of my brother's arms. Caring about nothing else but Azriel suddenly. 

I crouched over him, pulling his head into my lap. The ash arrow still sticking out of him

 “I’m sorry.” I whispered as I ripped the arrow out of his chest. “Where is Majda?” I hissed to my brother. His face was pale. 

“She’s on her way, he’ll be o-”

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence Rhys.” Azriel was getting paler by the second. Eyes fully closed. I leaned my forehead against his. “Please. Please, I can’t lose you.” I whispered, not caring if the others heard. I was shaking all over but I couldn’t let go of him. 

Amren walked into the room, freezing as her eyes swept over all of us. 

“Where is she?” Her quicksilver eyes flaring with something dangerous. Rhys didn’t respond, when none of us did, she simply asked again. That fire behind her eyes growing ever brighter. 

“It was a trap. Tamlin sold out his court for Hybern’s use and Ianthe sold out Feyre’s sisters. He wanted to prove…prove the cauldron could make people immortal. Make them fae. We could do nothing. We were out of options.” Mor responded. Voice heavy with the words, like she was speaking with a mouth full of rocks. 

“Rhysand” Amren started. Blind rage flared through me at the accusation in those words, 

“She knew we couldn’t do anything. She pretended like I had made her do it all, leaving spring, staying here, the bond. She said she would go with them if they stopped. So we walked out of there freely because she stayed behind.”

“The bond?” 

“Hybern broke it.” I croaked. The words like sandpaper in my throat. 

“That’s impossible. That magic simply does not exist.”

“No it doesn’t.” Rhys spoke clearly. My eyes darted to his. That pain was real, the heartbreak for his mate could not be faked. But it was not because of the bond breaking. Because if it could not be broken then Feyre…

“Go get her. Now.” Amren hissed at my brother. 

“No.” The room trembled under the weight of a high lord’s command. Even Amren balked at him. “She is a spy, with a tie to me. So she will stay in Spring where she will see Hyberns’ soldiers, learn their plans. And so will we.”

“She isn’t a spy.

“No. She’s my mate. And she is the High Lady of the Night Court. 

“What?” Amren and Mor spoke at the same time. 

“If they removed her other glove, they would have seen the mark from last night, the ink swirled around her wrist from when I swore her in as my High Lady. My equal in every way that matters.” 

I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to break more tonight. Hearing the sure way Rhys spoke, the decision they had made in a split second together. He would never have allowed this on his own, but Feyre. The cunning girl came up with this in seconds. When Azriel’s life was hanging by a thread. She knew she would have to return to that vile place to save my family, her family. I sobbed, already tired of the sound. But for the first time tonight, there was a shard of hope poking at the edges of all the pain. Worming it’s way to the surface. But I felt it, that itch under my skin. The warm thoughts were already being dragged under by the simmering rage I felt. The rage that was echoed in my brother. The stiffness in his shoulders, his hands clenched white knuckles by his sides. The muscles in his jaw jumped slightly, eyes far away as he drifted far away for a second. Only a second before I felt the room tremble again. A deep sigh in the ground beneath us. My skin crawled in response. That surge that threatened to swallow us both whole and take the house with it.

I unwrapped myself from Azriel’s side, standing on sure legs this time. And crossed the room to my brother. I held out an expectant hand. He only stared for a few moments before he grabbed it. Winnowing us out of the house. I exploded the moment Rhys appeared back in the world. Inky blackness thick enough to hold poured out from me in waves. This was not sadness, no, it was pure rage. Rage at a male who thought he owned Feyre, could own anyone. He might hide behind polished clothing and excuses of good intentions but I could see him for the monster he truly was. Rhys stayed by my side as I fell apart. And when I saw that last cloud of black ink fade into nothing, Rhys collapsed with the force of an earthquake. The ground splitting around us. Cracks formed so deep they seemed to never end. He let out a roar that sent animals and birds running away from us. I didn’t try to comfort him. I had no words that could fix this, nothing that would bring Feyre back to us. So I sat and watched as his heart poured out from him in the only way he could. Screams broke off into sobs and that was my undoing. I sank down next to him, wrapping my arms so tightly around him I was worried if he could even breathe. Worried he wouldn’t push me away if he couldn’t.

“We’ll get her back.” I spoke against his answering swirl of darkness. “We got her out once. We can do it again. We Will do it again.” I pulled back enough to see his face. 

“And we will plan, and we will fight. And you will eat. You will breathe. And you will live knowing we will get her back. And I will live knowing that I am going to help you end them all for what they put our family through.” My own power trickled out. Nothing more than vapor before it faded away. And this time I felt it. That final death knell of the powers I had clung to so dearly. 

“And once she’s back. We go to war.” I whispered, a stray tear rolling down my face as I pushed the hope of ever using my powers again far away. There was no forgiveness in my heart. Swept away when I saw the pain in Feyre’s face. No. I did not forgive Tamlin for what had happened today. And as I tried to forget the screams as they danced around my head. I know, deep down, I never would. 

Next part: Chapter 6

Taglist: @nickishadow139 @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx @durgenyx @i-am-infinite @mariahoedt @acourtofbatboydreams @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nocasdatsgay

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hi potato

This is my first request so I’m sorry if it’s all over the place. But could I request a gambit x afab mutant reader. Where her power is manipulate plants like poison ivy. But can feel hurt when the plants are as well.

I hope you have a good morning,afternoon,or night when you get this 😊😊

It was supposed to be a simple mission: slip in, secure the data, and slip out. But nothing was ever simple with the X-Men. Alarms blared through the dimly lit corridor as you and Remy—codename Gambit—fought your way toward the exit.

Vines coiled out from beneath your fingertips, tangling around your attackers and wrapping them in nature’s unbreakable embrace. Your powers felt like an extension of yourself, flowing effortlessly with each step. The only downside? You felt everything the plants did, from the crush of boots stomping on sprouting vines to the slashes of blades tearing through your green allies.

Remy had noticed, of course. He always noticed, though he rarely said anything. But today, he was keeping an extra close eye on you, especially after you’d winced when someone had stomped through a patch of ivy you’d sent ahead to scout.

“Hold tight, chérie,” he called, glancing over his shoulder with that familiar grin of his, though you could see the worry in his eyes. “Jus’ a few more to go.”

You managed a small smile, though your chest was tightening as you summoned another wave of thorns to block the corridor. The enemy mutants were advancing faster now, slashing through the plants and triggering jolts of pain that felt like small cuts along your own skin.

Remy reached out, catching you just as you stumbled, and his arms were steady around you. “Mon dieu, you’re hurtin’ too, aren’t ya?” he murmured, his accent thick with concern. His eyes flicked to where the vines were unraveling at your feet, hacked and broken.

“It’s… fine,” you whispered, though your voice trembled. You tried to brush it off, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“Non, it ain’t fine,” he replied, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “You’re takin’ their pain as your own.” He tightened his grip, almost as if he could shield you from the plants’ distress by sheer will alone.

A flare of desperation hit you as the men advanced, but Remy was already there. With a flash of kinetic energy, his signature card flew past you, igniting the corridor in pink light and sending the enemies scattering.

“Got ya covered,” he murmured, one arm wrapped protectively around your waist. “Now, you rest.”

You tried to argue, but he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, carrying you through the corridors with surprising gentleness. “If you ain’t gonna look after yourself, then I will,” he whispered, and there was no teasing in his tone, only the kind of warmth you’d only ever felt from him.

Once you were back at the Blackbird, he settled you down on the seats and wrapped his trench coat around your shoulders. “Better?” he asked softly, brushing a stray leaf from your hair.

A grateful smile tugged at your lips as you let yourself relax. You could feel the plants' pain easing, each of them finally finding peace. And with Remy by your side, the weight of that pain felt lighter, his steady presence an anchor that kept you grounded.

“Thanks, Remy,” you murmured, closing your eyes as he squeezed your hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your skin.

“Ain’t nothin’, chérie,” he replied, leaning close. “Any time you’re hurtin’, you know where t’ find me. Always.”

With his words echoing softly in your mind, you felt the last of the pain drift away, knowing you were safe, both from the mission—and in his arms.