#why thank you angel 😌✨

[camficdiner]

Heyy can I get [1.1]

[2.9]

[3.5]

[4.3]

Age gap younger woman!

Thank you 🤍

☕️ Cam’s Fic Diner — Order 056

🍒 thank you for your order, angel.

you brought enemies, jealousy, rival teams, and an age gap straight into my kitchen and said “make it feral, but then tuck it into bed with a wine glass and a salad.”

i hope jack’s possessiveness hit exactly where you needed it to, and that the dinner scene made you giggle and gag in equal measure 😌

come back anytime — your table’s always open at the diner

💬 “You Can’t Hide Love in the NHL (But You Can Try)”

✨ Description and prompts:

– Character: Jack Hughes

– Prompt: Secret relationship + age gap + jealousy & possessiveness

– Tropes: rivals to lovers, secret dating, age gap, possessive smut, brother interrogation

– WC: ~2k

🛼🧁✨🍒

You’d both agreed to keep it private.

The league didn’t need to know. The fans didn’t need to know. The teams sure as hell didn’t need to know — especially since you wore a Rangers jersey and Jack Hughes bled Devils red.

The media would have torn it apart. The age gap. The rivalry. The way you chirped each other on the ice. (“Nice toe drag, Hughes — did your brother teach you that in preschool?”)

No one would’ve believed it was real. And maybe for a while, you didn’t either.

It started quiet. Off-season workouts. Shared glances in training facilities. A chirped text here and there.

Then a kiss.

Then another.

Then Jack pressing you against a locker room door at 2 AM, saying, “We’re not supposed to be doing this,” while undressing you anyway.

But it stayed secret. It had to.

Until tonight.

You’re in the middle of a regular-season game against the Flyers when it happens — you’re flying along the boards, puck at your stick, when someone on the opposing team doesn’t like how fast you’re moving. The hit slams into your shoulder and sends you crashing against the glass hard enough to draw a groan from the crowd.

Jack sees it happen from the stands.

He’s there with his brothers — Quinn flew in for a few days, and Luke tagged along for sibling bonding. And of course, they’d suggested catching a Rangers game.

Jack hadn’t said why he agreed so fast.

He sits there, jaw clenched, fists locked on his thighs, eyes burning into the glass.

“Jesus,” Luke mutters as you get up slowly, shaking your helmeted head, waving off the trainer.

“You know her?” Quinn asks, not looking away from the rink.

Jack’s quiet. Too quiet.

You’re back on the ice in seconds. Like nothing happened. Just another hit in the game. But Jack can’t sit still. His leg bounces. His gaze hasn’t moved from you in five full minutes.

After the final buzzer, you’re pulled for post-game press. You’re laughing. A little sore, but fine.

Then Matt Rempe walks in — all 6’8” of him — and slides onto the stool beside you like he owns the place.

The press eats it up. You’re giggling. He’s chirping you. Some reporter asks what your ideal date is and Matt leans in and says, “She likes soft serve and horror movies, right?”

You’re blushing.

The entire room loses it.

Jack stands up from his seat so suddenly Quinn reaches for his arm. “Whoa. Dude. Chill.”

“They’re friends,” Luke says, tilting his head. “I think?”

Jack’s jaw tightens.

Quinn raises an eyebrow. “You wanna tell us what’s going on?”

Jack doesn’t answer right away.

You’re still on the screen in the hallway outside the suite, laughing beside Rempe. He reaches out and fixes your hair — just casually — and Jack snaps.

“She’s mine,” he says, voice low.

Luke blinks. “What?”

Jack’s already walking. Hands on his hips. Pacing the suite.

“I’m seeing her. We’ve been… it’s been a few months,” he mutters. “Since pre-season.”

Quinn’s stare sharpens. “The Rangers forward? She’s barely twenty.”

“She’s twenty-one. She’s not a kid.”

“She’s also a Ranger,” Luke points out. “You realize how bad this looks, right?”

“I don’t give a shit how it looks,” Jack snaps. “I’ve been sitting on this for months while everyone talks about her like she’s just hot. Like she’s just some new headline. And now I’m supposed to sit here while they push her and Rempe like they’re some— some power couple?”

“No one’s saying you have to—”

“She’s mine,” Jack says again, and this time it sounds feral.

Quinn crosses his arms. “You sure this is more than just… wanting what you can’t have?”

Jack turns to him. Staring. Wild-eyed. “I’m sure.”

Luke exhales through his nose. “Then let us meet her.”

Jack stops moving.

Quinn nods. “If you’re serious about this… then let’s see what the fuss is about.”

---

Jack doesn’t say a word on the way home.

He drives with one hand clenched tight on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh like a silent claim — a brand that says mine, even in the dark.

You barely make it through the front door before he’s on you.

His hands are under your jacket, mouth crashing into yours like a punishment. You gasp, try to speak, but he cuts you off with his tongue and a growl in your throat.

“That’s what you do now?” he mutters against your skin, dragging you backwards toward the bedroom. “Giggling with Rempe? Letting him touch you on live TV?”

You pull away just long enough to breathe. “We’re friends, Jack. We’ve always—”

He grabs your jaw, not hard, just firm. Possessive. “He’s not your friend tonight.”

Your back hits the bed. Jack’s already undoing his belt, his eyes dark and unforgiving. “You knew I was watching.”

You lick your lips, head spinning. “That’s not fair—”

“Open your mouth.”

You hesitate for half a second, but your body knows him. Your body wants him — especially like this. Especially when he’s jealous and starved and looking at you like he might break.

You kneel.

Jack exhales a sound that’s half growl, half laugh. “God, look at you.”

He’s thick and flushed in your hand, already leaking. You barely wrap your fingers around him before he says again — quieter now, like a prayer:

“Open. Now.”

You do.

He doesn’t ease in — not at first. Not when his blood’s still boiling and your lips are so fucking pretty and there’s still the ghost of Rempe’s name in your mouth. He sinks into your throat, slow but relentless, holding your hair back with one hand and using the other to tilt your chin just right.

You choke. Gag a little. He groans — loudly.

“Yeah,” he pants. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear it.”

You make a sound, mouth full, eyes glassy, hands gripping his thighs. He starts to move — shallow at first, then deeper. Every thrust forces another tear down your cheek.

“You wanna make me jealous?” he rasps. “You wanna let the whole league think you’re single?”

You try to shake your head, but he doesn’t let you. “No, baby. Say it. Say who you belong to.”

You pull off with a wet gasp, spit clinging to your lips. “You, Jack.”

He nods, wild-eyed. “Fucking right you do.”

He fucks your mouth like he needs it — like it’s the only way he knows how to calm down. His hips snap faster. You gag again, but don’t pull back.

When he finally finishes, it’s messy and deep. You swallow it on instinct, throat burning, heart thudding. He pulls out, watching your mouth as you breathe, wrecked and flushed and perfect.

Then —

A knock on the front door.

You both freeze.

Jack curses, dragging a hand down his face. “Fuck. They’re early.”

You blink. “What?”

He grabs your hand and pulls you up. “Dinner. My brothers. Remember?”

You stare at him, still on your knees. “You just fucked my throat like—”

“I know,” he says, tossing you a sweater. “You’ll be fine.”

You’re not fine. Not even a little. But ten minutes later, you’re at the table, pretending.

The dining room is cozy. Candles lit. Wine poured. You’ve brushed your hair and wiped your lips raw, but Jack’s fingerprints are still on your hips, your throat still tight.

Quinn gives you a polite smile. Luke keeps glancing between you and Jack.

You try to act normal. Pass the salad. Talk about the Flyers game. Compliment Quinn’s watch.

But under the table, Jack’s hand rests on your thigh again. Thumb rubbing slow circles. Quiet, grounding, and dangerous.

“Thanks for having us,” Quinn says at one point. “Sorry if it’s weird.”

You smile sweetly. “Not at all. Jack said it was time we met.”

Quinn raises an eyebrow. “Did he now?”

Jack shrugs, sipping his wine. “I’m not hiding her anymore.”

Your stomach flips.

Luke squints. “You okay, dude? You’re acting weird.”

Jack grins. “I’m great.”

You nudge him under the table.

He turns to you, all fake-innocent. “More salad, baby?”

You don’t speak. You just glare.

Because you both know the only thing full is your throat.

----

The second the front door closes behind you, Jack exhales like he’s been holding in air for hours.

You disappear down the hall to bed, hoodie half-off, still wearing his sweatpants, hair a little damp from the fastest shower on Earth. You don’t even look back. Just a sleepy, mumbled “night,” and he’s sure you’re out cold within minutes.

He turns to his brothers.

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Luke and Quinn don’t respond. Just follow him silently into the quiet street outside your place. They walk a few blocks — the air cool, the streetlights low — and then it comes.

“Are you serious about her?” Quinn asks.

Jack sighs. “Yeah.”

Luke kicks at a loose pebble on the sidewalk. “You’re not just fucking around? She’s like, barely older than me.”

“I know.”

“And a Ranger.”

“I know.”

Quinn stops walking. Turns to face him. “Jack, this isn’t like every other girl you’ve pulled. This is different. You’re different.”

Jack meets his eyes. “I know.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“I’m in love with her,” Jack says. Quiet. Solid. Like he’s known it for a while but needed the right moment to say it.

Quinn stares at him. Luke squints like he misheard.

Jack keeps going. “I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone. And yeah, she’s young, and yeah, she plays for the wrong damn team, but—she’s it for me.”

Luke blinks. “So… you’re gonna marry a Ranger?”

“Eventually,” Jack mutters, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. “Yeah. If I don’t fuck it up first.”

Quinn is quiet again. Then — finally — he huffs a small, reluctant laugh.

“She’s cool,” he admits. “Fierce, too. Like, terrifying.”

“She’s kinda scary,” Luke adds.

Jack smirks. “Yeah. She’s a little psycho. I like it.”

Luke kicks his shoulder. “You’re so down bad it’s embarrassing.”

“I literally walked in on you dry heaving into her hoodie once,” Quinn deadpans. “You were like, in love with the scent.”

“I did not dry heave—”

“Jack,” Quinn cuts him off, “just take care of her. And if you fuck this up, you’ll have both of us to deal with.”

Jack nods. No smile this time. “I know.”

The three of them walk back toward the apartment. Jack’s a little quieter. A little softer. But he’s smiling now — the kind that says mine.

And when he steps back into your bedroom, you’re already half-asleep, curled up in his hoodie, one hand reaching for him even in your dreams.

Yeah.

You’re it.

[princessaffirms]

hiiii lovee any tips on how to make manifesting feel more joyful instead of stressful?? <3

hiii angel! ₊˚⊹♡ i LOVE this question so much omg, thank you for asking it! 🫶

first of all: manifesting is supposed to feel fun and empowering, not stressful or like a chore on your to do list.

but don’t worry — it’s so easy and POSSIBLE to bring the joy back!

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🐚✨ TIPS to make manifesting feel MORE JOYFUL again:

♡ ROMANTICIZE it.

visualize or affirm to music that aligns with your ideal reality/what you’re intentionally manifesting!

make vision boards with photos and visuals that look like things which the “ideal” version of you has in their camera roll! (“ideal” just meaning the version of you living in the reality where you already HAVE your desires)

consume content that normalizes your desires to you. are you affirming for more money? consume content from wealthy people living the luxury life you WANT!! remind yourself that this isn’t unreasonable to desire — it’s attainable, POSSIBLE, and already yours. all because you decide it is so.

manifestation isn’t homework!! it’s CREATING YOUR DREAM LIFE! 🥹 truly the highest form of self care <3

♡ DETACH from the “when.”

when you KNOW it’s already yours, you stop stressing about the timeline.

method act like your manifestation is already here!! you don’t check the shipping every five minutes when you KNOW a package is coming, right? same energy. 😌

♡ AFFIRM like it’s already done.

instead of desperate affirmations like “please let this happen,” shift to fun, empowering ones like:

“of course it happened. why wouldn’t it? i ALWAYS get what i want without fail.”

“success is NORMAL and INEVITABLE for me. it’s my BASELINE!”

♡ HAVE FUN with it!

treat manifesting like your own personal SANDBOX! except everything you think up actually materializes in your inner world and is INEVITABLY projected in the 3D. isn’t that SO FUN and EASY? 🥹🫶 that’s how it’s always meant to be <3

♡ TRUST yourself.

manifesting gets stressful when you think you’re doing it “wrong”. but you’re not. you already know how to create. you’ve been manifesting unconsciously your whole life (i have a BLOG that touches on this if you’re interested: 🔗LINK) now you’re just doing it on purpose, with INTENTION.

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🐚✨ final REMINDERS:

you’re not chasing your desires. you’re magnetizing them.

you’re not forcing change. you’re assuming and embodying it.

you’re not waiting for permission. you’re claiming it. you don’t need anyone else’s permission but your own.

so let it be easy. let it be fun. let it be yours. manifestation was never meant to be stressful. i know it can be much easier said than done, but put yourself back on the pedestal of YOUR life! YOUR reality! you deserve to create and enjoy a reality that deeply fulfills you 🫶🥹 and you CAN!

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

sending so much love and light <3

[captainwans]

she looks like fun! (smau)

arabella series!

main masterlist!

pairing: alex turner x fem!actress reader

timeline: 2016

Liked by elizabetholsenofficial, imsebastianstan and others

yourinstagram life lately ❤️

 ㅤ View all the comments

username it was my birthday yesterday and i didn’t see a present that looked like y/n 😔

username THE QUEEN HAS POSTED

username the way i dropped everything i was doing when i saw y/n post

username IM NOT BREATHING TILL SHE REPLIES 😭

yourinstagram honey BREATHE

username OH MY GOD FUCK ME—

iamcindy yeah get in line babes 🙄

username cindy not beating the gay allegations

matthelders ciddy are you an alcoholic?

username matt wtf 😭😭

username i’m dying of laughter

username pls

iamcindy oh so now you care abt me

katiee_cook_ here we go again 🤦🏼‍♀️

username hey matthelders iamcindy y’all should make up or smth!

iamcindy hmm let me think abt it-NO🙅🏼‍♀️

matthelders i’d rather choke on a lego thanks :)

iamcindy why are you typing “:)” you fucking grandpa ever heard of emojis?

matthelders ever heard of minding your own business? :-*

username bahahaha i’m dying over matt and cindy

username help i’m new to the fandom do they actually hate each other though?? 😭

matthelders no ❤️

iamcindy yes ❤️

username well shesh thanks for nothing 😂

breanahelders username they don’t dw, it’s just how they show their love haha

 ㅤ liked by iamcindy and matthelders

yourinstagram they’re for sure good of showing it, on my freaking comment section😒

username lmao y/n is fed up

username nobody talking about alex’s hand replacement on the last pic i am so jealous.

Liked by iliridakrasniqi, poosh and others

yourinstagram 🎀

 ㅤ View all the comments

florencepugh thank you for this breath of fresh air 😫

yourinstagram you are so welcome baby ☺️

username imagine being called baby oh my god i know flo is going feral

 ㅤ liked by florencepugh

username needing this rn in a time of crisis

username she’s so fine bro

username frl frlll

katiee_cook_ you sexy woman! 😍

iamcindy spare some beauty for the rest of us!

breanahelders finest babe 💗

elizabetholsenofficial i talked to alex, weddings tomorrow don’t be late 😌

yourinstagram i’ll be there, wifey 🥰👰🏻‍♀️

username y/n: a national treasure

username i just know alex thanks god multiple times a day for her 😫😍

 ㅤ liked by 4,6k users

username i looked at myself and sighed

yourinstagram oh honey YOU are gorgeous! 💖🌸💘😍✨

username oh my god??!! the queen replied!!!!

username you are so gorgeous 😍 you look like an angel! 👼💗

yourinstagram thank you so much 🥹❤️

Liked by sarasampaio, phoebejtonkin and others

yourinstagram thankful for all of the women in my life 💖 to be seen, loved, cherished and appreciated. so so so grateful 🥹💘🌸🎀🩷

 ㅤ View all the comments

username i don’t even know which one i want more

username so many hot people

katiee_cook_ thankful for you beautiful 💕

breanahelders love you girlie ❤️

elizabetholsenofficial 💘💘💘

robertdowneyjr what about the boys’ speech?

markruffalo you forgot about us ☹️

chrishemsworth i’m disappointed in you y/n

yourinstagram y’all are so dramatic 🙄

username pls and they say girls are drama queens

username that’s such a rdj thing to say pls- 😭

mileskane i agree with downey why isn’t there a post about us 😒

iamcindy and why would she post about you?

username OH MY GOD CINDY

username the roast i’m cackling so loud

matthelders y’all are having too much margaritas

yourinstagram there’s not such thing as too many margaritas! 🍸😌✨

username THIS IS GIRLHOOD 🎀

 ㅤ liked by yourinstagram

username who are they?? the second pic to the right??

username mother, mother & mother.

 ㅤ liked by arielle, scarlettjohanssonofficial and yourinstagram

username praying for all of us to find people that feels like this! ❤️

 ㅤ liked by 14,4k users

[youremyheaven]

Omg thank you so much, now everything is much clearer! 🧡🧡

ur welcome angel 💛

for the unversed, this is an overly simplified summary of the mahadashas (keep in mind that this is a massive generalization and how u experience ur dasha depends on ur chart/placements)

Sun mahadasha - confident, slayy gaining recognition? whatever u do is a hit or if u have an afflicted Sun then the exact opposite 😬

Moon- 🤠 life is like a melodrama, extreme emotional highs and lows, lots of situations with women/mother,, imagine just being emotional for a couple of years and not being able to turn it off? yeah, that

Mercury- 💸🤑💸🤑cash money eraaa, use ur head and get that baggg

Venus- 😍✨🤌🏼trophy wife lifestyle even if ur not a woman or a wife, things just flow to u, people come to u like flies attracted to honey, whatever u do will be appreciated

Mars- 🏋️ girl boss era, could struggle with appearance but otherwise AMBITIOUS SLAYY

Jupiter - contrary to popular belief, Jupiter does not cover u in dollars bills, it tests u and if u are worthy, u will be rewarded

Saturn- 🥲learn everything slowly , be a late bloomer, learn things the hard way, struggle to keep up, wonder why u have to suffer more than others and then realise it's bc it's ur goddamn Saturn MD and then work your butt off to appease Saturn

Rahu- 🤪🥳😌 delusional era , on a serious note I feel like rahu md can make people paranoid bc they're literally too in their head 😬but it can give really exaggerated results and blow things out of proportion, I think doja cat is in rahu mahadasha rn and she's so different now compared to like her juicy era ??

Ketu 😳😤😩faith will help you bc nothing else will not to fearmonger but 😮‍💨girlies be so detached from life sometimes they stop living (figuratively or literally 💀) soooo many celebs have died during their Ketu MD im being so srs rn (not saying u will tho <3)

[scekrex]

First of all, love the new profile pic, but I already miss the Adam one. The new one is such a vibe tho.

NEVER MIND THAT. I COME BEARING IDEAS.

I haven't given you an idea in a long time and that is a crime, sacrilegious crime and I must correct my ways 😤

So :) Adam x Male Reader (Obviously 😌) where they are not together yet and Adam loves to tease Reader because he loves to read comic books (Totally not self insert, lmao). One time Adam goes a bit too far tho and takes Reader's comic book from his hands, basically ripping it out of them and accidentally tearing a few pages since comic books tend to be quite fragile if not handled properly. Reader at first is surprised and annoyed with Adam until he hears the rip of the pages, then he simply stares at the taller angel in shock, forcefully taking back the comic and seeing the damage just to break down in tears, because it was his favourite comic book that he was introduced to when he was still alive by someone who was very dear to him (Either a sibling, a bestfriend, parent, Idk) and gets really upset with Adam, refusing to talk to him. At first Adam being Adam obviously wouldn't get why it was such a big idea since it was just a comic book, he could get another one in Heaven with no problems, but it was the action on its own that made the Reader upset.

Basically some hurt/comfort with a fluffy ending? Please with a cherry on top and thank you 🙏❤️

Love you 💋

Here, have a smiley Sebastian Vettel. Everyone needs to see a smiley Sebastian Vettel at least once in their life ✨

Hehehehehehe love that :3 also so sorry it took me so fucking long to write that but apparently writers block crawled up my ass while I was sleeping

Wordless apologies

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you

The first man grinned down on you, visibly amused by the sight of you - you had your face buried in your favorite comic book, a passion Adam never truly understood even though you tried to explain it to him. But that was okay, the brunette didn’t need to understand why you liked them, it was enough that you liked comics in general - well, enough to tease you about.

“You’re such a fucking nerd, dude,” Adam groaned, he preteneded to be annoyed about your passion when in realitly he was annoyed by the lack of attention he was receiving from your end - it was simply something he wasn’t used to. Usually the attention was his once he entered the room but you were different. If you had your nose buried in one of your silly little picture books - Adam’s words, not yours - your attention was on said book and said book only and not even the first man himself could change that.

You didn’t respond to his words and that annoyed Adam, it annoyed him very fucking much. Enough to simply grab the fragile book and tear it out of your grip, your first response was an annoyed, “Hey!” as you tried to get it back but then the sound of ripping paper filled the living room you and Adam were sitting in and your body tensed up immediately. A shiver ran through you and you felt how your wings fluffed up a little from the sadness and from the anger that slowly bubbled up inside of you. The look in your eyes was empty as you turned towards Adam, eyeing how he held a single page in one of his hands and the entire book in his other hand. Your eyes flicked from the book to the torn out page and back to the book until your eyes eventually met Adam’s. There was no guilt or remorse in them, just amusement as you heard how a chuckle rumbled through his body, “Looks like I have to get ya a new one.”

You grabbed the book forcefully from Adam, possibly breaking it even more but in that moment you did not care. You also took the single page from Adam, viewing the damage up close as tears slowly started to well up in your eyes. This comic book had been given to you by your best friend back when you were still alive and it had been your favorite ever since. Said best friend did not roam Heaven’s mighty streets like you did, you weren’t sure if he was still alive or if he was in Hell - though him being in Hell did not make any sense to you. The comic Adam had just broken was all you had left of him and now even that was destroyed. Sure you could fix it, you could tape the page back in but that didn’t fix the fact that Adam did not feel guilty in the slightest - fuck, he even found it amusing.

When the brunette noticed how quiet you were he looked at you and you heard how he swallowed hard at the sight of tears welling up in your eyes - you couldn’t bring yourself to feel empathy towards him, not after what he did. Sure, to Adam it seemed like a small deal, like a thing that happened and he could fix it by replacing the book. But that wasn’t the case, this was a problem not even Adam could fix that easily.

“Dude,” Adam spoke up again, his words sounding a little softer yet he kept up the playful and unbothered undertone, “It’s a fucking book, I’ll get you a new one.” But you remained silent, refusing to talk to the taller angel after he broke the only physical thing that reminded you of your best friend. The first man seemed rather frustrated at that, you heard him sigh and out of the corner of your eyes you saw how he took off the mask on his head to actually look at you. “Stop acting like a crybaby, man, it’s easy to replace,” he explained yet again, lifting his hand to rest it on your shoulder and give you some comfort but you pulled away before his hand even touched you. That would not fix things, it wouldn’t repair your book.

Brian sighed again, putting the broken comic book down in his lap as he stared at it. “Gimme the damn book,” Adam grumbled, sounding somewhat displeased with something - with that exactly you didn’t know but you did know that Adam would not touch that comic again. “Fuck off,” you mumbled weakly, trying to keep Adam away from it. The taller angel simply caught your wrists, held them in a firm grip and grabbed the comic - including the torn out page - from your lap, “Chill, I’m not gonna tear out more pages.”

You watched with wide eyes as your comic book was taken from you yet again, this time Adam was a little careful with it and while that still did not meet your standards on how he should be handling your favorite comic, it was better than before. The brunette let go of your eyes, held the comic book in both of his hands and let out a quiet sigh, a sigh you didn’t even notice. Angelic magic wrapped around your book and your shocked expression turned into a confused one before you realized what Adam was doing there.

He was fixing it - like actually fixing it.

“Here, you fucking shithead,” Adam grinned as he handed you your comic back, his other hand ruffled your hair softly and while the brunette still did not apoligze, you were willing to ignore that tiny fact and move on. He had fixed the book he broke and while it still felt different, it was something you appreciated very much.

[vind3miat0r]

things my classmates have said as Redacted Characters pt 2

you know the drill (long warning)

“Does anyone have a math problem? I know [Eridanus] doesn’t I can see his page” — Avior

“I haven’t done a problem like that in like 20 years” — Warden

“Weren’t you a teacher?” — Vega

“But did you sing the song?” — Angel

“No, I never learned the song :3” — Asher

“I wanna see a 12-D movie” — Guy

“I hate it when the silly spine disease makes my back hurt :(" — Freelancer (oh wow i wonder who said this one)

“[Fred], do the problem” — Sam

“[SAM] WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” — Bright

“It’s like a crescendo in music” — Babe

“Nintendo?” — Asher

“You don’t have a license, do you?” — Damien

“That doesn’t matter” — Gavin

“I vote [Sam] goes next” — Bright

“Wait what-" — Sam

“A maths joke? Why-“ — Angel

“[Angel], shut up.” — David

“This is working out great! I did not do this wrong at home!” — Asher

“‘Cogeret’… It looks French” — Avior

“✨Cogerét✨ (🇫🇷)” — Starlight

“I’m totally exhausted” — Darlin

“What have you even been doing?” — Milo

“I don’t even know” — Darlin

“Exactly” — Milo

“Close your eyes. What do you feel?” — Coworker

“Tired” — Freelancer

“We should nuke Mars :3” — Babe

“… I think that’s from Meriam-Webster” — Starlight

“Did you just quote a dictionary????” — Avior

“Well, lets put them into that position and then we’ll go from there :3” — Gavin

“I left it on the door-" — Angel

“ON the door??” — David

“BY the door-" — Angel

“He’s talking to himself” — Fred

“The voices” — Bright

“Like the creep he is” — Fred

“The voices :3” — Bright

“what do YOU think about ✨Organ Donation✨?” — Lovely (its the vibes guys trust trust)

*sounding it out* “‘Ce-pha-lo-thor-ax’” — Starlight

“The cephalothorax-" — Avior

“Oh wow. That was beautiful 😒” — Starlight

“Thank you 😌” — Avior

[vandme12]

Oh My Dear Vandme, I'm so sorry that you're getting mean/Rude comments recently, Minor can totally write for WHATEVER and HOWEVER they want! Gatekeeping isn't allowed in any spaces of fandoms especially the creative side of it- and nobody gets to dictate what you do with YOUR own account and what you reblog. If it wasn't for Minors writing for fandom spaces, fanfics nor fandoms would never exist- as some of the most popular fanfics of all time that I know of, were written by minors at the time.

In regards for request times, Take however long you need! you are putting your time and effort into a creative process, and as with anything, things take time- especially when it's a craft such as writing. Whoever has issues with that can Back right up out of your inbox. If they're so impatient to harass you about taking to long via asks, They can make their own writing for it then.

And for NSFW Asks, I'm so, so so sorry that you keep getting them. To the People Asking these prompts, The person running this blog have stated time and time again- that they DO NOT DO NSFW REQUESTS PLEASE, DO NOT ASK THEM FOR THIS. If ya'll could, Go ask another blog that actually covers nsfw subject matters if you are that thirsty for content- Such as Spiderlilywritings or Puzzledprose for example.

Your writing is absolutely out of this world for Killer Chat, you are legit one of my favorite writers out in the fandom- and I only just recently got hooked onto the fandom as a whole because of how great your writing is. I wish that I could put into words how much I adore your every last bit of your works- You understand Ronin's character so well, it's phenomenal to see when nailed right- and you hit the mark time and time again. Always- your fics really brighten up my day whenever I see them. Thank you for doing your absolute best when writing.

I Hope this Brightens you up at least a little bit, and if doesn't then I hope your week gets better.

With all my love, 🔍-Anon

OMG STOPPPP 😭😭 You’re actually gonna make me CRY—like, ugly sobbing, full-on breakdown, the whole thing. I don’t even know where to START because this?? This is the nicest thing EVER and I’m literally gonna frame it and hang it on my wall, I swear.

First of all, THANK YOU for understanding and sticking up for me—fr, people can be so weird about what others write like?? It’s not that deep, it’s just fanfic, and if they don’t like it, they can scroll and mind their business 💅. You’re so real for pointing out that minors built fandom culture, because like… where would ANY of this even be without us?? No one’s gonna stop me from writing what I want, when I want—best believe I’m here to stay 😌. And you’re SO right about the requests—like, do people think words magically appear or something?? This brain needs time to marinate, babes 💭✨. If they’re that impatient, they can write their own and see how easy it is (spoiler: it’s NOT 💀).

AND OMG, THE NSFW ASKS?? PLEASEEE, it’s like people lose basic reading comprehension when it comes to that 😭😭. I’ve said it a million times—I don’t do that—and yet, here we are. I’m just tryna write my murder boy shenanigans in peace, why is that so hard for people to get?? Like you said, there are PLENTY of other blogs that do that stuff.

Also, CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW SWEET YOU ARE?? You saying my writing is what got you into the fandom?? HELLO?? I’m gonna be thinking about that forever, no joke. The fact that you love how I write Ronin makes me so happy bc he’s my feral little murder gremlin and I put SO much effort into making him unhinged but still human and complicated—so hearing that means EVERYTHING to me 💖. Like, I cannot explain how much your words mean—you’ve officially locked in a forever spot in my heart, congrats 😭💞.

For real, thank you SO MUCH for taking the time to send this—it made my entire week, no question. I promise I’ll keep writing and being my chaotic little self no matter what people say. You’re a literal angel, and I’m sending you all the love and virtual hugs in the world. Hope your week is absolutely AMAZING because you deserve it and more!! 💫🖤

With all my love (and maybe some happy tears), Me 😌💖

[sketch-guardian]

Hiii! I’m the same person who asked for the headcannons about the new classmates but I just wanna know if you’d ever be comfortable to post headcannons about all the classmates with a child mc who sees them as older siblings or parental figures. If not I totally understand!! I just wanted to ask since I live for found family tropes and I’m starting to get obsessed with your ocs 😋

I hope you’re doing well!! <33

Hello again!💜I'm fine, thank you for asking☺and I hope you are doing well too✨I'm happy that you're starting to like my OCs! You flatter me😳and don't worry, your request is perfectly valid😌so I hope you enjoy the result:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A CHILD MC WHO SEES THEM AS A PARENT/OLDER SIBILING FIGURE"

DEMYA

Demya has a soft spot for kids, in the sense that, seeing them as frail creatures, she considers them in need of protection and care, this however doesn't change the fact that she still remains a bit feral by nature, especially due to the way she was raised, so every now and then Demya could be seen carrying child MC by the collar of their shirt with her teeth or some poor unfortunate soul could witness MC attached to Demya's back like a koala while she runs on all fours. In any case, Demya would be a great, playful, energetic big sister, who would hunt for the best food to share with child MC. Plus in her heart, Demya would love to have an offspring in the future, so she would be thrilled if MC saw her as worthy of a such an important role and would do anything both not to disappoint and to protect them, Demya doesn't want to lose her family a second time after all...

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra may not seem the best with children on the surface, given his rough and harsh attitude, however living with Mobim has accustomed him to looking after another living being and therefore it wouldn't be too surprising to see him with Mobim and child MC in tow, like a mother hen with her ducklings. Domnra would at first be stunned by MC's view of him as an older brother/father, especially since he doesn't think of himself as a reassuring figure, however he would be quietly touched by the sentiment, it would remind Domnra of the times he cared for other soldiers back in his day as an angel, therefore he would promise to protect child MC at all costs, just like Mobim, to raise them and teach them to defend themselves. Speaking of Mobim, for child MC, Mobim would be like a little sibiling to play with

AZUL

Azul is a born entertainer and his characteristic of changing color depending on his mood attracts a lot of attention, therefore he would have no problem dealing with children or people in general. Having also raised Demya in a certain sense, since he taught her to read, write and essentially civilized her, Azul would feel a little nostalgic for the good old days and would behave in an attentive and caring manner, while still remaining fun, maybe a little clingy, he would definitely start ugly crying if child MC called him big brother or dad. Azul would also hang child MC's drawings everywhere if they were to make them, showing them off to everyone

ZURI

Zuri would prove a little hesitant at the beginning, not considering herself the best role model or exactly loving enough for child MC, in fact she wouldn't understand why child MC considers her suitable for such role, given her stoic nature, however Zuri wouldn't bear to disappoint their expectations and therefore over time she would get used to the new dynamic. For Zuri it would be more natural than expected to take care of child MC, having done the same with Azul and Domnra after their fall from grace and over time Zuri would realize that she enjoyed having child MC by her side, like a found family. Zuri would sew tailor-made clothes for child MC and fix their stuffed animals with patches in case of tears, as well as buy several gifts

ODON

Although Odon scares most living beings with their imposing and eldritch presence, it seems that animals and young people are curious about them and tend to hover around Odon, as if they understood Odon has truly changed for the better and trusted them. Odon would be intrigued by child MC and although puzzled by their desire to be in their company, Odon would be flattered and not at all bothered, they would also engage in telling stories and seeing MC play with their eye-like creatures. Odon has never had a family, so the fact that child MC sees them as an important member of their found family would make Odon feel accepted and at peace. Child MC, in Odon's presence, would be the safest child in all of Devildom and they would do various activities together, such as reading, visiting museums, Odon would also carry child MC on their shoulders, being very tall. Odon likes to attend child MC's tea parties as well

REMIEL

Remiel, despite her somber attitude, knows how to handle children quite well, because it unfortunately happened more than once in the course of her celestial duty that she had to help children's souls reach the afterlife, lost and afraid, with only her to guide them towards the light. Remiel is very patient and has both a soothing presence and a soft voice, so from a logical point of view, she could understand why child MC bonded with her, even if Remiel would wonder why they chose her, when surely there were other more appropriate choices. Having trouble understanding feelings and being quite dense, nurturing child MC could help Remiel comprehend the human world better and experience genuine sensations she has never felt before. Remiel would also like to introduce child MC to her parents, to include them and make them feel even more part of the family, as a little sibiling or child, hoping Azrael and Death don't intimidate child MC too much with their appearance. Remiel would be good at putting child MC to sleep, cradling them with her wings

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel isn't used to interacting with humans, being often busy with celestial matters, so he would be pleasantly surprised to have attracted child MC's attention, especially considering his frequent quietness. Nathaniel would be an excellent teacher and would help child MC with homework and other matters, even difficult ones, specifying how important it is to solve them without the use of violence when possible. The concept of family may be foreign to Nathaniel, but being a very patient angel, he would be glad to walk on such journey of growth alongside child MC, experiencing the joy of raising them. Nathaniel would be chill, but still protective of child MC and would be willing to accompany them to explore and discover both the Celestial Realm and Devildom. Nathaniel would also likely teach child MC his way of communicating only through gestures

URIEL

Uriel isn't exactly a loving type and as a warrior angel, she is more used to fighting than looking after others, so at the beginning, rather than taking care of child MC, it would almost seem as if she were training them, almost like a soldier, obviously not overdoing it, given that they are still a child. It would take Uriel some time to get used to such a dynamic, but over time she would start to feel proud of having been chosen to represent such an important role, the fact that child MC looks up to her would slowly soften Uriel's edges. Some activities that Uriel and child MC would do together would be fighting with fake swords, in which Uriel would lose only to boost MC's self-esteem and fly embraced by her safe arms while doing cool tricks, at a safe distance from the ground. Uriel would also be quite strict when it comes to rules, so she would find a way to make them more bearable and manageable for child MC

[nadvs]

A new chapter of the power play being the first thing I see when I wake up on my birthday… well yes🙂‍↕️. Okay, her being at his game (even though it’s for show) is the cutest thing ever💓. “You must really love my company.” She says. He scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. Tehehe🤭. “I’m not here for him.” ADORABLE. And his reaction to her simply caring if he was okay…? I can’t cope. “Might as well end this, then.” RAFE?! HELLO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING SWEETIE?! I understand why he’s annoyed that she won’t tell him what Emma said but I also get why she hasn’t told him😭. Can’t wait to see the grovelling though😘🤌🏼. I’m also kinda loving the weekly posts, gives me something to look forward too😌. Anyways, a great chapter as always babes✨

-💘

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANGEL!!!!! 💘 thank you!! i can so picture rafe being confused and kind of astounded by a girl being so naturally sweet and thoughtful and caring, meanwhile she’s just like ☺️☀️ all the time hehe. thank you so much, love 💘 i think she deserves him working hard to make it up to her and he abso will 🙂‍↕️ ilysm!!

[frog-0n-a-l0g]

✨the Wild West🤠✨

Angel: WHATUP BITCHES

Babe: YOOOOO

Sam: why hello to you too?

Sweetheart: heyyyy

Angel: guys guys guys guys

Angel: like the wonderful creative one of a kind person I am I came up w an ✨idea✨

Sam: oh no

Babe: OH YES

Sweetheart: oh?

Angel: ima pretend yall all got babes enthusiasm BUT ANYWAY

Angel: hear me out

Sweetheart: I’m scared

Sam: join the club

Angel: we get nicknames for the gc?!!!!!

Sam: that’s actually not that bad

Babe: YESSS

Sweetheart: that’s what you think

Angel: ok but I get to pick bc I’m the talented one and I made this group chat🤭😌

Sam: there it is

Angel: since you questioned my judgment ur going FIRST

Sam: oh no

[angel has changed sams name to brokeback mountain]

Brokeback Mountain: Angel why are you like this?

Angel: MWAHAHAHAHAH

sweetheart: y’all i laughed and my boss looked at me weird💀

Babe: OMG ME NEXT

Brokeback Mountain: whyy are you encouraging this?

Babe: bc it’s fun🙄

Angel: like jeez old man get w the program🙄

Sweetheart: PFF-

Brokeback Mountain: do your name changes or whatever before I get darlin to beat your ass.

Angel: like you was beating theirs in but OH YEA

Sweetheart: nah💀

Angel: BABE

Angel: I NOW DUB THEE

[angel has changed babes name to trainer]

Trainer: what does that even mean babes😭

Angel: w all the collars u be putting on that dog of urs…

Brokeback Mountain: Oh my lord🙄

Trainer: YOU RIGHT YOU RIGHT💪🏻😚

Sweetheart: nah cause that’s clever as shit💀

Sweetheart: does your head hurt after using your brain?

Angel: haha very funny

Angel: just you wait for you

Angel: speaking of which…

[angel has changed sweethearts name to invisa-bitch]

Invisa-bitch: ok I actually like that lol

Brokeback Mountain: lucky

Angel: AND NOW

Angel: FOR THE MOMENT OF TRUTH

Angel: DRUM ROLLLLL

[angel has changed angels name to mini alpha👑]

Mini alpha👑: best for last😌

Invisa-bitch: wooooooowwwwwwe

Trainer: so chic

Mini alpha👑: ikr🥶🥶🥶🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯‼️‼️‼️💅💅💅

Brokeback Mountain: this has got to be bullying

Brokeback Mountain: I’m going to bed

Mini alpha👑: goodbye grandpa🥺🥺

Trainer: sleep well pawpaw🥺🥺

Invisa-bitch: sleep well Sam

Brokeback Mountain: thank you SWEETHEART.

[psychics4unet]

hii!hope you're having a blessed day☆

Ar you still offering free readings?

If so, Then my question is "who has a crush on me ,like would he make a move and what are his initials?"..something like that

And Thank you so much♡

Free Psychic Reading – Message From The Angels! (7$ PAID READINGS ARE ALSO OPENED!)

Hello! 💫💖 The angels are here with a message about someone who may have their eye on you. There’s a sense of hesitation on their part, which could be why they haven’t made a move yet. This person seems to admire you from afar but may be holding back due to uncertainty or fear of rejection. 👀✨ The energy around them feels shy and reserved, not wanting to make themselves vulnerable, but they're definitely drawn to you. 😌

As for the initials, the angels are guiding me towards the letters "J" and "M," which may be significant in some way to this person. It could be the first letter of their name or a nickname they go by. ✨💖

In terms of them making a move, it feels like it could take some time. They're still figuring out their feelings and whether it’s the right moment. The angels suggest being patient, as they may eventually gather the courage to approach you, but it may take a little longer than you expect. 💞⏳

The angels encourage you to continue being your authentic self, as this will help attract the right energy. Keep focusing on your own path and let things unfold naturally. 🌸💫

Got questions or need some insight into your life? I'm here to help with personal psychic readings! For just $7, you can get answers to up to 7 questions! More info at:

[princessaffirms]

hi!

i love your posts a lot<3

i kinda need help with something. so ive been manifesting stuff etc and the weird thing is, i mostly got my stuff..some stuff..well not.

and especially when it comes to manifest

"bigger" things. so for example i manifested a different nose (currently is a hooked noise and my nose i desire is a button nose) and well i said in my head "i have a lovely button nose" and its done i already have it. and bye the time i wake up tomorrow i'll be in my desired reality with my dream appearance. (i love manifesting over night)

so the thing is. when i shift/manifest, and i

"feel" the change.. i freak out. i get scared and i think.. this isn't real.and my heads like: "you're just imagining it blablabla."

so what i don't get is..why am i so scared of getting my results? like immediately my doubts are coming in.. it's annoying..

like when i get my results i think what i do is not real and that "magic" like this doesn't exist.

i would love to get an answer but you don't have to answer.

have a lovely day x

hi angel! ₊˚⊹♡ first of all, thank you for your sweet words, i’m so glad you enjoy my blog! 🥹 and second, i just want to say: everything you’re feeling is so normal and okay.

here’s the thing:

when you start feeling the shift (when your inner world moves) you HAVE shifted.

the shift happens immediately.

but sometimes your nervous system takes a bit longer to catch up. when this happens, your mind is still adjusting to the new assumption you chose. and that’s okay!

but that’s also why normalizing your new reality and your new story to yourself is so important, because it makes your desires your new BASELINE. it’s not something you’re like, “woah, it really happened!” but more so, “oh, there it is again! yay!” because success is so NORMAL and consistent for you! (there’s a reason i stress normalizing your desires 🫶)

it’s not necessarily that your manifestation is delayed (unless YOU assume that). it’s that your new identity is stabilizing.

your job now is to continue to persist in it, not second-guess it.

when the inner shift is real, the 3D has NO CHOICE but to mirror that. 🤍

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🦢✨ about feeling scared when you get results:

babe, this is SO common!! sometimes people feel weird when their affirmations are physically projected in the 3D because deep down you realize:

“oh wait…i really AM that powerful.” 😌✨

and sometimes that can feel unfamiliar if you’ve spent so much of your life thinking you were powerless or at the mercy of external circumstances.

it’s not that the “magic” isn’t real — it’s that your mind is still adjusting to the fact that you are magic. (in the sense of being able to create your reality and not being at the mercy of the 3D)

your assumptions are magic.

your decisions are magic.

your very being is magic.

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

🦢✨ when you feel that doubt creep in, gently remind yourself:

⤷ “this is just my mind calibrating to my new reality. i’m safe to receive. i’m safe to shift. it’s already mine.”

then EMBODY the version of you who KNOWS it’s already yours. because it is!!

normalize the new story. own it. because this isn’t random. you’re not “making it up.” you’re not imagining things. you’re stepping into the reality you INTENTIONALLY chose. and it’s real. because you decided it is. you deserve it!!

i’m so proud of you angel, you’re doing AMAZING!! congrats on your success! you’re right on track.

normalize the shift. trust yourself. <3

　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖

i hope this helped! 🥹🫶

sending so much love and light always <3

[andvys]

That last chapter was just 🥹✨💗🫣🔪😔😭

I was behind and haven't read chapter 20 but when i saw you posted 21 and you telling the shift in their relationship will start from it i all but ran to read em really

I've had enough shit from you Buckley, I AM COMING FOR YOU BITCH

I mean yeah i would do the same with my best friend try to protect him and his feelings but i would NEVER judge someone and assume his feelings and treat em like she did that's a low blow

Don't think I didn't see you Munson your time will come

as for poor blondie i want to hug her really i mean why doesn't anything work to her favor that girl suffered enough 😭

My heart aches for Stevie yes but he should at least have the decency to talk to her and hear her out

Can't wait to the next chapter and how it all will unfold. Please try not to make us wait for too long☠️ (no pressure though)

Thank you beautiful🫶🏻

DWOHT!ROBIN HAS A LOT OF ENEMIES RN LMAO

poor Eddie, he’s a sweet angel who can do no wrong 😌

and don’t you worry, they will talk… they will… hehe

[belabellissima]

Chapter 5 Let’s Go!!!!!!!

✨ Morning light filtered through one of the tall windows on the second level, casting gold over his handsome features. She could see the undertones of blue in his hair, and the flecks of silver in his irises, reflecting like mischievous stars. It was ridiculous, Feyre thought. High Lord of the Night Court, and even the sun strived to flatter him.

💭I love this line so much! He’s just so pretty and he knows it. 😌

✨ There was no sound, but Feyre watched the polished wooden table between them ripple beneath his touch, like it too was made of liquid. She blinked, and the wood was again rigid. Ordinary.

+

✨ He set down his cup and saucer, and only the tea rippled this time. Where had the tea even come from? There wasn’t a teapot in sight, though someone as powerful as the High Lord could likely wave his hands and conjure it himself.

💭 Ooh he’s so messing with her 😂😂😂

✨ Feyre clenched her fists, refusing the urge to tuck her arm out of sight. She would not be ashamed of what she needed to do to survive.

💭 Your honor i love her so much🥹

✨ “Let’s make another bet.”

She’d already entered into one fool’s bargain.

“No.”

He offered her a mock pout. “You haven’t even heard the terms.”

💭 Rhys pouting (real or fake) is so funny and cute 🥺🥺🥺 he’s like why are you rejecting me I am an angel 😇😈

✨ “And of those markings on your arm, how many were fixed in yours?”

All but one. All but his.

Feyre wouldn’t dare admit to it, but they were alike in that way.

💭 🥹🥹🥹

✨ There’s a golden thread connecting us together. It’s faint, but you can feel it tugging, can’t you?”

💭 Screaming!!! He’s not even subtle he’s practically begging her to realize!!!!

✨ Slowly, as if his magic truly needed to brace her entire weight, Feyre lowered to her knees, arms shooting out for balance as her body hovered just over the High Lord’s face.

💭 Rhys always has a one-track mind and I love that for Feyre she deserves it😌

✨ The liquid burned down her throat, but it was preferable to the heat of that violet gaze, staring her down like he expected at any moment she might throw the scalding tea onto him. And maybe he was right to be wary, because she was certainly considering it.

💭 First it was a beaded pillow and now it’s hot tea … that’s an upgrade in projectile lmao, he most definitely right to wary😂

✨ She’d drawn a series of panels—a sketch of Rhysand on the sofa, smirking in one panel, then frowning in the next, dripping from the teapot she’d ceremoniously dumped over his head.

💭 HA OH MY GOD 😂 she wants to see him wet and pathetic 😏 (iykyk)

This chapter was 💯 like always!!! And now there’s setup for Feyre to remake that bargain, knowing full well he won’t just practice magic the next time😏😏😏 but yeah, Nesta is going to be soo mad😂

Thank you for this beauty!!💜

Queen of Thieves - Chapter 5

Summary: A fulfillment of this kinkmeme prompt. Or; A Canon AU where half fae, con-artist Feyre makes an ill placed bet.

Dedicating this chapter to @kcladylotus 💕

Read on AO3 ・Masterlist ・Previous Chapter

-

Feyre watched Rhysand carefully stir his tea.

There was an unnerving precision to the way he moved, like even the dark circles rippling across the steaming surface possessed some hidden meaning she was supposed to uncover. He was staring at her, violet eyes expectant, sensuous mouth smug.

They were sat in the High Lord’s personal study—though study was such a mundane, meager word for the multi-level room complete with two sitting areas, a mammoth desk piled neatly with books and paperwork, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on nearly every wall. Feyre didn’t doubt they were meticulously organized, though the spines close enough to decipher were just a blur of symbols and letters to her.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked.

Morning light filtered through one of the tall windows on the second level, casting gold over his handsome features. She could see the undertones of blue in his hair, and the flecks of silver in his irises, reflecting like mischievous stars. It was ridiculous, Feyre thought. High Lord of the Night Court, and even the sun strived to flatter him.

“I slept fine,” she said. If he wanted her to acknowledge that she’d fallen asleep on him, if that was the reason he looked so pleased with himself as he continued stirring his tea, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Is there a reason you summoned me here?”

She’d known, of course, that the High Lord’s games with her hadn’t ended at dinner. The bargain pledged her to his service for a full day, so it was no surprise that Nuala and Cerridwen had woken her up at dawn. The High Lord clearly intended to seize every moment he’d been promised. And she supposed she should be relieved she was asked to meet here, in the decidedly unprovocative study, rather than in his bedroom. She’d half expected a request to deliver him breakfast in bed, so this… this was a relief. Even if his smile made her feel as though she’d fallen into a viper den.

“We’re going to work on your daemati abilities,” he said, setting down the spoon. There was no sound, but Feyre watched the polished wooden table between them ripple beneath his touch, like it too was made of liquid. She blinked, and the wood was again rigid. Ordinary.

It was so strange that his words took a moment to settle in. Then she looked up at the High Lord, startled to find that his eyes locked on hers with such intensity that she resisted the urge to shrink back.

Feyre asked warily, “Working on them how?”

“Two things,” he said, holding up his pointer and middle finger. “First, your mental shield is sloppy. You need to work on reinforcing it so that people like me,” he emphasized his words with a sharp caress of talons against the edge of her mind, “can’t barge in whenever they please. Second, you must learn how to protect yourself when venturing into someone else’s mind.”

“Don’t bother,” Feyre said, crossing her arms. “Don’t go into someone’s mind if they have a shield—lesson learned.”

Rhysand raised a brow and shifted back into the sapphire velvet sofa, crossing one leg over the other as he took a long sip of his tea. “You misunderstood,” he said, setting the cup back on the ornate saucer he held aloft. “These are not suggestions, Feyre.”

She tilted her chin at the shift in his voice. It wasn’t sharp. Nor threatening. But there was an edge to it, lethal as the side of a playing card.

“If that’s how you want to spend your time with me, High Lord, then fine. I anticipated I’d be spending more time on my knees.”

“With a sharp mouth like that?” He chuckled. “My fingers are the most I’d risk going near those pretty teeth. But if you want to make this more entertaining, Feyre, we certainly can.”

He set down his cup and saucer, and only the tea rippled this time. Where had the tea even come from? There wasn’t a teapot in sight, though someone as powerful as the High Lord could likely wave his hands and conjure it himself.

Feyre snorted internally. How nice of him to offer her a cup. Maybe it was all part of his game.

“More entertaining for you, maybe.”

He smirked in a way that told her she’d made this infinitely worse for herself. In the back of her mind, some residual human instinct hissed at her to just go along with whatever he wanted to make this as easy and painless as possible. Feyre knew that’s what she should be doing, and yet… and yet she couldn’t resist pushing back against him at every avenue, yanking back on her chain just to see how much give she was allowed.

“I think I could ensure that it’s plenty entertaining for the both of us,” he purred.

In a fluid movement, he rose from the sofa. She couldn’t help noticing how his powerful legs flexed beneath his close-fitting trousers, even as she tensed in preparation for whatever he was about to do.

Rhysand stepped away from their sitting area, striding on graceful feet toward the wrought-iron spiral staircase to the left of the entrance. “You like a bargain, don’t you, Feyre?”

She was grateful that his back was turned so he couldn’t see how her face heated as her gaze dropped to the ink on her arm, visible through her long, pale blue gossamer sleeve. Feyre clenched her fists, refusing the urge to tuck her arm out of sight. She would not be ashamed of what she needed to do to survive.

People like him would never understand. People who lived in houses like this, with staircases in their study that they could perch themselves on oh so smugly, stretching their irritatingly long legs to the floor. Feyre glared at him as his knees spread open in a silent, obscene invitation.

“Let’s make another bet.”

She’d already entered into one fool’s bargain.

“No.”

He offered her a mock pout. “You haven’t even heard the terms.”

“I don’t need to,” she said, gesturing to the whorls of ink on her forearm. “I’ve already learned that you don’t make wagers unless they’re already fixed in your favor.”

“And of those markings on your arm, how many were fixed in yours?”

All but one. All but his.

Feyre wouldn’t dare admit to it, but they were alike in that way. A level playing field wasn’t enough, not when the risk of losing was so high. Losing meant another day without eating, so Feyre found ways to ensure she would always win, even if that meant cheating or lying or stealing. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t fair, or honest. Or good. Not when she knew the people she was playing against would be using their every possible advantage, too.

Especially the High Lord, who was grinning at her like he’d been there to witness every game she’d ever fixed, like he knew her every trick. There was an underlying humor in the way he clicked his tongue.

“I see you don’t appreciate when the tables are turned on you for a change.” He slid his hands into his pocket. “Have it your way, then, Feyre. If you don’t want to influence the terms, then there will be no bargains. Instead, I’ll tell you precisely how this will go, and you’ll have no choice but to play along.” He cocked his head to the side. Feyre straightened as those talons scraped against her mind, and he purred, “We’re going to play a game called real or not real.”

Whatever he wanted to do to her. Those were the terms. She had to clench her teeth to stop herself from outright refusing him. Even if she refused, the bargain would force her to comply anyway. She might as well preserve her pride.

“That’s it,” he murmured, sensing the waver in her defiance as his shadowed claws caressed and stroked the outskirts of her mind. Then, faster than she knew how to defend, his magic lashed out, shattering her shield as if it were little more than glass. His talons gripped her, digging in hard enough to still her breath. “Now the rules are very simple, Feyre. I’m going to ask you a series of simple questions. Each time you answer wrong, you’re going to step closer to me.”

Feyre had never been on the receiving end of someone entering her mind. Was this what it felt like, all those times she had slipped into the minds of drunken males? They had never seemed to notice, but this… this was dominating. Every muscle, every breath, every pump of blood now yielded to Rhysand’s command. And his hands were still in his damn pockets.

She wouldn’t ask what would happen if she answered enough questions incorrectly to make it to the staircase. From the way he’d spread his legs, it seemed he was changing his mind at his refusal to see Feyre on her knees.

Look at you, he crooned. So pretty like this Feyre. You can feel your heart rushing, can’t you? I can practically see it leaping in that beautiful throat of yours. Tell me, is it really beating so thunderously, or is that something I just told you to believe?

She could feel her beating fast. Not only that, she could hear it roaring in her ears. Was that something that Rhysand was making her imagine? It couldn’t be. She pressed a hand to her chest, and her heart rose frantically to meet her touch. Feyre was inclined to believe it would always beat fast so long as Rhysand was in the room.

“Real,” she said.

He grinned. “Very good Feyre. That thunderous mortal heart is hardly my doing. It’s been beating like that since the moment I met you in the alleyway. Skittish little thing, you are.”

“Prick,” she said.

“Prick I may be. But you’ll be thanking me if you ever encounter another daemati who tries to implant this pretty mind with falsities. Now. There’s a golden thread connecting us together. It’s faint, but you can feel it tugging, can’t you?”

As if to illustrate, she felt that same amused tug that had pulled at her in the bathing room the night before. Its force was strong enough, now, to make her breath hitch.

“Real?” Rhys asked. “Or just my mind playing tricks on you?”

Golden thread, her ass. She knew that pull was from one of his talons. “It’s a trick,” she said flatly.

“Wrong.” Acting of its own accord, Feyre’s body sat up and lifted from the sofa. Her movements were stiff, unnatural. A puppet being pulled at the strings as she pivoted towards the staircase and took one large step towards a grinning Rhysand. “We’re connected now, Feyre. Through the magic of our bargain.”

“I’ve made lots of bargains before yours.”

“Yes.” His eyes slid over her tattooed arm. His smile curbed. “But all of those bargains were transactions of coin—quickly fulfilled. You’ve threaded your life to my will for an entire day. That kind of magic is powerful.”

There was an air of admonishment in his voice. As the youngest of three sisters, Feyre could guess when someone was trying to teach her a lesson. She flashed her teeth. “What’s your point?”

“My point, Feyre, is that you have been reckless. Playing with magic that you don’t fully understand. Those headaches you sometimes wake up to. Real or fake?”

The answer was so obvious that she wasn’t going to respond.

He pressed harder, as if he could pry the words into existence.

Real or fake, Feyre?

“Real,” she snarled. “And what does it matter to you?”

“You are going to destroy yourself if you don’t learn how to control it.”

Who? She wanted to scream. Who could have taught me about any of this? I have just been trying my best to survive.

“You have me to teach you. You can sense that I mean you no harm. That my offer is genuine. Real or not real?”

What did he want out of this? What did he stand to gain? Feyre couldn’t understand his games, or his motives, but she knew she wasn’t afraid of him. Not nearly as much as she should be after watching him slaughter his captain without blinking. Last night, she’d felt comfortable enough in his presence to fall asleep in his lap. But was that calm, that sense of rightness, something he’d planted in her mind, the same way she’d convinced the tavern keeper not to raise the price of their rent?

“Not real,” she said.

“Wrong answer.”

She took one long step, then another. Just a few more, and she’d be perched in front of the High Lord.

“And that thrill in your chest, Feyre,” he said, his eyes holding that same dangerous gleam they’d had at the tavern, before he trapped her in this bargain. “That excitement you feel as you contemplate exactly what I might do to you once you’re between my legs. Is that real?”

Feyre knew what he wanted her to say—to confess. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Even if that meant taking a step closer and damning herself to whatever devious plan he had in mind.

“Not real,” she said, and he laughed.

“I’m beginning to think you’re answering incorrectly on purpose.”

She swallowed, saying nothing as her body yielded another three steps. Her toe hit the bottom stair. Rhysand lounged before her, feet planted on either side of her legs, elbows tucked casually on the step behind him.

Slowly, he pushed up, rising until his face was an inch from her stomach. Feyre tried to stumble backward, but her legs and shoulders locked, leaving her defenseless to the broad hands that curved over and around her thighs.

“And your arousal? I suppose you think that’s my doing as well.”

“It’s all fake,” she insisted. “There’s no truth wound in this magic. You can move my body regardless of what I say.”

“But that scent,” Rhysand purred. He took a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. “I can’t fake that, can I, darling?”

Could he? Feyre didn’t know what to believe, which of her senses were capable of betraying her while those talons hooked her mind.

Rhysand exhaled, and the air danced lightly over the section of midriff left exposed from her low-hanging trousers. It was a deceptively soft breath, for the havoc it wreaked inside her, like a tender breeze had slipped past her skin and become a typhoon in her stomach, flipping and tumbling until she wasn’t certain she would be able to stand were it not for his hold on her. Was that the work of a daemati or just the sheer force of his proximity?

His voice was a dark rumble as he mused, “I wonder which will bow to me first. Your body, or your pride.”

“Neither,” she said, flashing her teeth.

An empty threat, considering her attempt to thrash against his magic was little more than a kitten batting at his leg. He grinned like it was immensely satisfying to watch her struggle. She could hear the amusement practically dripping from his every word as he cooed, “What’s your next move then, Feyre?”

Real or not real, real or not real, real or—

It didn’t matter. If she could just break out of his hold. She wouldn’t need to answer him or play this stupid game any longer.

“Go to hell.”

“Come now,” he said with a tut. “For ten thousand marks, it’s a fairly straightforward question to answer, no? Do you think the ache building between those delectable thighs is real or something of my diabolical invention?”

If he touched her, she knew the evidence would be damning. Even so, she snarled, “Not real, you stupid prick.”

He smiled. “Wrong answer, Feyre.”

To further the taunt, he spread his legs wider, and she tried not to study the muscles straining against the fabric of his trousers. Feyre expected this was where she would be dropping to her knees, and she’d been so braced to kneel before him that she nearly yelped when her body jostled forward instead, onto the first step, then the next.

Rhysand leaned back on the stairs, face nothing short of delighted as he watched her step carefully over his body and come to a trembling halt on the same step where he rested his head. Slowly, as if his magic truly needed to brace her entire weight, Feyre lowered to her knees, arms shooting out for balance as her body hovered just over the High Lord’s face.

She could no longer see his expression, but his shameless glee still carried in his voice. “What did you say about spending more time on your knees?”

Cauldron. He was so close she could feel each of the words vibrating in his chest before he spoke them. So close that if he lifted his head a fraction higher, his mouth would brush over the seam of her cunt.

“This is a magnificent view, by the way,” he said. “I wonder, Feyre. If I pulled these garments off, would you be wet for me?”

Feyre took that to be a rhetorical question. With his head practically buried between her thighs, the scent of her dripping arousal had to be smothering. Rhysand placed a hand at the top of her leg, fingers curling inwards. She bit her inner cheek, feeling every muscle in her body tighten in response to his warm touch.

“You’re thinking about what it would be like to feel my tongue on you.”

She shut her eyes, trying not to imagine it. She knew he would take his time, slowly unraveling her sanity with the same methodical calculation he’d used to get her in this position in the first place. But would he come undone, just a little, too? Would his eyes flutter shut at the taste of her—would he moan, like he couldn’t help himself?

Feyre clawed her fingernails into the marble step. “Get out of my head,” she gasped.

You let me into it, he said, craning his neck to run his nose against her inner thigh. Practically invited me with those shields down. Did you want me to listen to all of your filthy thoughts about me? If you’re so curious about the noises I’d make eating you out, I’d be more than happy to demonstrate.

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. “It’s not real.”

What’s not real? He nuzzled the junction between her hip and leg. The wetness between your thighs? Or maybe the stone beneath your palms?

What? She blinked, her vision blurring for a moment, where she swore the marble rippled beneath her fingertips. Rippled like the tea, and the wooden table, and the ocean far beneath the cliff face. She felt like she was tipping over that edge now, already feeling the air rise to meet her.

“Could it be the sound of my voice? Is that real, Feyre?”

No—no, no. Something was wrong here. Beyond the game, or the soft touches against her thigh. The stone at her knees didn’t ache. The sun streaming from the windows on the level above cast a strip of golden light along her tattooed arm. Its touch wasn’t warm, nor was the marble cold. The only sensation that Feyre could truly feel was the golden heat that spread through her body from Rhysand’s touch, ardent and gentle and—

Not real.

Feyre pushed against the stone, watching it ripple like she was staring at little more than a distorted reflection in a pond. She shook her head in a last, feeble attempt to dislodge the claws digging into her mind. If she pushed hard enough to unlatch one of them, another would take its place on the other side. There were too many of them—he was everywhere.

She was trapped inside her own head.

His laughter was low and soft, and didn’t come at all from the body beneath her. It shook through the walls, reverberated through the stone.

Well done, Feyre. Now how are you going to get out?

If she could move, she would throw herself over the iron railing in the hopes that the fall would jolt herself into her body. But his magic kept her pinned, straddling either side of his face.

You could give in, he suggested, voice a lover’s purr. Rest, and enjoy the remainder of the fantasy.

“It’s not my fantasy,” she snapped.

Isn’t it?

Temper boiling to the surface, Feyre slammed herself against the magic caging her. The recoil sent her teeth ringing, and stars sparked behind her eyes, but she did it again, thinking that if she just knocked against him enough times, she could force him out through brute determination. He may have been influencing the vision, but this was her mind. Her dream to control, to manipulate.

Feyre shut her eyes, thinking of the surface of the unruly ocean she’d spent a lifetime gazing across. A force of nature that could not be wielded or contained, even by a narcissistic High Lord. She imagined that she was that rising tide, building like a wave. Already, she could smell the sea spray and hear the cry of gulls, and she was certain if she opened her eyes, they would no longer be in a High Lord’s study, but on the cliffs of Velaris, where she so often dreamed of diving beneath the surface.

Good, Rhysand murmured.

Her nose curled. She didn’t care about his praise. She only wanted him out.

Feyre let the wave rise, building higher and higher until it was large enough to sweep them away. She took a gasping breath of air, opening her eyes in time to watch the peak curl into white foam, moments before it struck violently against the cliff.

A new claw seized her, this one icy and merciless. She yielded to its grip—so strong that the siege on her mind was forced to relent, his talons unable to keep her in their grasp as she was dragged down, down, down into the bleak depths of the winter sea.

When she next opened her eyes, it was to a wooden panel of a large, four-poster bed. The velvet curtains were pulled shut, keeping out any light or chance of telling the time.

Feyre rolled to her side with a small groan and yanked one of the curtains back. It was dark in the room, too. Someone had pulled the thick curtains over the large bay window, determined not to let an ounce of light disturb her slumber. Feyre shifted her legs over the edge, noting her bare skin peeking out of a nightgown she had no memory of changing into.

Work of the shadow wraiths? Or was it…

Movement caught in her peripheral, and Feyre turned, yelping as a pair of bright violet eyes met hers from the corner of the room.

Rhysand, lips curled in smug satisfaction, uncrossed the ankle he’d slung over his knee on the large armchair. “Good morning, Feyre. Sleep well?”

It could not only be morning.

“Well, we are pushing into the afternoon. But you looked like you were having such a pleasant dream. I wouldn’t dare wake you.”

Feyre turned, searching for the nearest item she could use to wipe that smirk off his face. She settled for a beaded throw pillow, hissing as she lobbed it at his head, “You’re a prick.”

“And you need to work on keeping your shields up when you sleep.” He caught the pillow easily, frowning at the purple beading. “And your aim, while we’re at it.”

It required every ounce of willpower not to flop back into the bed and scream into the leftover pillows. Or better yet, use them to practice her allegedly poor aim. She’d only just woken up, and the thought of enduring his company for the remainder of the bargain made her feel exhausted.

Ten thousand marks, she reminded herself. Her sisters would be able to go to bed in a room that they could comfortably stand up in. Nesta could buy a new book, and perhaps they could even find somewhere with a garden for Elain. For her sisters, she could do this.

“If I’d had nefarious intentions—”

“Nefarious intentions?” Her voice strained in disbelief. “You trapped me! You touched me.”

Rhysand shifted, elongating the shadows over his eyes. “Per our bargain, you’ve agreed I can do whatever I’d like to you, to start. But don’t forget, Feyre. I was in your head the entire time. I know precisely how you felt about what I was doing to you.”

Prick. Prick, prick, prick.

“Your shields are still down,” he added flatly. He lifted effortlessly from the chair, crossing the room with three brutal, elegant steps. Feyre leaned back slightly, wariness skittering across her spine as he drew close enough that she could smell the sea spray of the ocean on him. “And say what you’d like about me, Feyre. But this room is still suffocated in your arousal. That was no manipulation on my part.”

He stood to his full height, eyes still on hers. Feyre tilted her chin, refusing to look away.

At this, Rhysand released a soft, huffing laugh and shook his head. “Let the twins get you something to eat, then meet me in the study. Clearly, we have a lot to go over.”

Rhysand broke eye contact first, but there was no victory to be had in the way her eyes fixated on his back as he strode to the door. Unable to look away and equally unable to hold in her question. “Why bother to teach me anything at all?”

In a few hours, she’d take his money and set off with the resolve to never cross his path again. If he wanted a whore, she didn’t understand why he was wasting his time with… any of this. Unless the High Lord was confident they would be seeing each other again after their bargain was fulfilled.

The glance he offered her over his shoulder did nothing to stifle her growing apprehension. “Because I have plans for you, Feyre Archeron. And not all of them involve my head between your legs.”

Before the weight of that declaration could truly settle over her, Feyre blindly grabbed another pillow and hurled it towards the door. It hit the wood with a soft thud, and never had she felt such recognition in an object as when she watched the silk-encased feathers slide to the floor and slump forward, as though in defeat.

-

Rhys was waiting for her in his study, stirring a cup of tea with a mocking smile. Unlike in her dream, a teapot sat on the carved wooden table, steam still piping from its spout, with a spare cup and saucer already laid out for her.

His eyes gleamed as he watched Feyre turn her head, studying the chairs and bookshelves for any flaw, any indication that this, too, wasn’t real. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look towards the staircase.

“Is something familiar?” He asked with a lifted brow.

Feyre stalked to the nearest bookshelf and ran her fingers along the spines, waiting for the vision to warp and ripple. They remained firm, textured with stamped leather and metal clasps. She still couldn’t read their inscriptions, but even in the dream that hadn’t been unusual.

“Have you really read all of these,” she said, “Or do you just keep them in your study to look pretentious?”

From the lack of dust on the shelves, it was clear that the High Lord took pride in his collection. Though, to his credit, he did not rise to the jab. He merely fought a smile. “Not an avid reader, I take it.” When she said nothing, Rhysand nodded at the book beneath her fingertips. “Why don’t you grab that one. I think you’ll find the topic particularly… stimulating.”

She glared at the golden lettering on the spine, willing the indistinguishable blur of letters to jump out with any indication of the subject matter. It was something indecent if she had to guess, perhaps something within the realm of the erotic novels Nesta enjoyed, and Feyre’s face warmed at being unable to uncover the joke being made at her expense.

If he knew she couldn’t read, the mockery would only increase.

“I know you didn’t bring me here to read,” she said, dropping her hand. She pivoted on her heel, aiming for the sofa across from him, where that cup had been considerately placed for her.

Rhysand lifted the teapot, sparing her a sidelong glance for confirmation, before he poured the tea into her cup. “You’d be surprised how much studying is involved in the mastery of magic.”

“I’m not looking to master anything,” she said flippantly.

He added sugar and milk into her cup without confirming if that was her preference. Something he stole from her head, she wondered, or was he having her watched? She supposed Nuala and Cerridwen likely reported everything they observed back to him.

“Humor me,” he said, lifting the tea towards her.

Those eyes met hers, unnervingly steady. Feyre felt as though she were accepting far more than a cup of tea as she reached forward. Their fingers brushed, warm and lingering like she remembered in her dream. She fought a shiver and forced herself to sit up calmly, ignoring his surveillance as she pressed the hot rim to her lips. Swallowed.

The liquid burned down her throat, but it was preferable to the heat of that violet gaze, staring her down like he expected at any moment she might throw the scalding tea onto him. And maybe he was right to be wary, because she was certainly considering it.

Rhysand leaned back. With a flourishing wave of his hand, the book slid out of its space on the shelf, drifting towards them on a night-kissed wind.

“I didn’t always know how to control it, either. But I had people to help me, and access to resources like this.” The book flipped open, pages blurring as they rapidly turned over, before falling flat on a particular page. It landed in her lap, and she stared. Stared as if those lines of ink were supposed to be meaningful to her.

She looked up. “What do you get from all of this?”

“Just read it, Feyre.”

Her throat tightened. She glanced back down, studying those letters for all of a minute before she slammed the book shut. “I’m more of an experience-based learner myself.”

Rhysand frowned. She’d been hoping, with his tendency to rifle through her mind whenever he pleased, that physical practice would be more than appealing to him. A disconcerting silence settled over them as his eyes drifted considerately from Feyre to the book.

Her spine locked, watching his dawning realization as his pupils widened with clarity. She could not tell if it was horror, or anger, or pity hiding behind his expression, but regardless her stomach tightened into knots.

“You can’t read.”

It wasn’t a question, so Feyre didn’t answer it.

He ran a hand down his face. “I didn’t realize—”

“You think I didn’t exhaust all other options before I became a con-artist?”

Rhysand nodded like he was putting several things together, already recalculating his grand plan. “We’ll start there, then.”

“No.”

“Feyre—”

“No.”

“It’s an essential skill,” he argued.

“And with ten thousand marks, I can hire a tutor.”

Silence. They both knew it was the last thing she’d dedicate that money towards. First, a comfortable place to live. Access to food, plumbing, clean clothes. Reading was a luxury, one that sunk to the bottom of the Bharat sea with her father and the rest of their fortune. After that, it hadn’t felt like much of a priority. And it still didn’t.

She willed the steel adamant of his mental shields into the look she gave him, so that he knew this was an unflinching line in the sand. He could force her, but he would need to use the magic of their bargain to do it.

“I’m trying to help you, Feyre,” he said, softer now.

Help her, so that he could further his own agenda.

I have plans for you, Feyre Archeron.

Feyre briefly considered bartering with him. She could indulge his reading lessons if he agreed to reveal his true motive in teaching her. But if his plans required her ability to read, then maybe it was all the better to refuse, let him fix his interest on someone else. Someone more qualified for his aims.

He weathered her indignant stare for several more heartbeats, neither of them saying anything. Before he sighed.

“Fine,” he relented, shaking his head with open exasperation. “No reading lessons—for now.”

For now. She hated the underlying promise in those words.

“You want to learn through experience, Feyre? Then you’re going to practice raising and lowering your shield until it’s second nature.” He smirked. “Or rather, until you can do it in your sleep.”

Before she could summon a weapon from her arsenal of sharp words, Rhysand uncoiled to his feet and glanced towards a standing clock on the far wall.

“Four more hours of our bargain remain,” he said. “That seems an adequate amount of time to practice. I’ll be back by the end of it.”

“What?”

Rhysand was already striding toward the door, carelessly waving away her question with a simple, commanding, “Begin.”

True to his word, Rhysand left her alone for the remaining four hours. She had nothing more to do than raise and lower her shields as she watched the sky gradually darken beyond the windows on the second floor. It did give her time to explore, and she wandered his study to search every shelf, examining his trinkets like they might contain some invaluable secret about the High Lord. The papers on his desk were just that—undoubtedly containing important information, but none that was discernible to her. She opened his drawers, and the ones that weren’t locked contained nothing of startling interest. Stationary and writing utensils, the odd paperweight, a stamp with the night court insignia.

He likely wouldn’t have left her alone if there was anything truly valuable in the study. Not that she wouldn’t put it past him to be secretly observing her. With a hearty sigh, she settled at his desk, pulled out one of the pieces of blank parchment and a pot of ink, and began to draw as she passively raised and lowered her mental shields.

Feyre’s mind felt like sludge by the time he returned.

“Impressive,” he said, staring over her shoulder.

She’d drawn a series of panels—a sketch of Rhysand on the sofa, smirking in one panel, then frowning in the next, dripping from the teapot she’d ceremoniously dumped over his head.

Feyre hummed. “You got my fantasy all wrong in the dream, so I thought I’d draw you a diagram of what I truly desire.”

“And what you truly desire,” he purred, “Is me?”

“Covered in tea.”

His answering smile was undeterred. “You can have me covered in whatever you’d like, Feyre darling.”

She offered him a long-suffering look, her way of silently telling him that she’d like to indulge in that fantasy at this very moment. It would be so satisfying to wipe that stupid grin off his face with a cup of hot—

A talon scraped down her mental shield, testing its stability, and she threw all of her lingering willpower into reinforcing the black, glittering adamant keeping him out.

“Good,” he said, withdrawing his magic. “Make sure you keep them up before you go to bed tonight, or I might be tempted to crawl back inside that pretty mind and help you live through your other fantasies.”

Feyre scowled at him.

He huffed a laugh, extending his hand to her.

She regarded him carefully. “You’re… you’re taking me home?”

“Yes.”

She still didn’t take his hand. “The twenty-four hours are up?”

“Yes,” he said again, raising his brows at her scrutiny.

“And…” she still couldn’t quite believe it. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he confirmed.

Twenty-four hours as the High Lord’s plaything, and he hadn’t really done anything to her. There was the dream and his head between her thighs, but even then, he’d only gone far enough to tease, to taunt.

She didn’t understand it. He’d paid ten thousand marks for what?

“Where’s the money?” She asked, not seeing anything on him.

“No heartfelt goodbyes?” When she narrowed her eyes at him, he shrugged. “Where do you think I’ve been the last four hours? After everyone in the tavern overheard our bargain, I didn’t trust sending you back with a bag of coins. I’ve set up an account in your name. The money’s yours now.”

There was no reason to believe he was lying. The magic would force him to pay, one way or another. Tomorrow, she and her sisters would go to the bank and start a new life. For now… for now, she just wanted to get home before the High Lord changed his mind and decided he wanted more from her after all.

She took his hand. His fingers were cool, his grip sturdy. She noticed a scrape of calluses that hadn’t been apparent in her dream, and she wondered if he’d earned them during his years in the Illyrian Mountains.

Without another word, they were swallowed into darkness, and it was instinct to grab him as the world vanished beneath their feet. He pulled her closer, his arms becoming a warm, comforting weight across her back as they tumbled through the fabric of the world.

Then, their feet were again atop solid ground—wet from the nearby docks and the fishermen who’d spent the day carting nets of fresh fish to the restaurants on the other side of the Sidra. Rhysand didn’t move away, and nor did Feyre, gripping to him as she waited for the world to right itself.

He took the opportunity to murmur to her, “If you ever need extra coin, I’d be happy to buy another twenty-four hours with you, any time. Just say the word.”

She snorted. “Still ten thousand marks?”

The winnowing had torn some of her hair from the pins Nuala and Cerridwen had carefully placed. Rhysand reached up to tuck a strand behind her ear as if he couldn’t resist. “Only with the promise that I can do whatever I’d like to you.”

“And will that always exclude sex? Or were you just…” She waved inelegantly to his crotch. “Not in the mood?”

Rhysand chuckled. “I didn’t have sex with you, Feyre, because you entered that bargain convinced you would win. It may come as a surprise, but I enjoy my lovers as willing participants.” He leaned closer, lips brushing the same ear that his fingers had just caressed. His breath sent a shiver down her spine. “Make no mistake, Feyre. The next time you let me take you home, I’ll assume you’re consenting to more than practicing your magic.”

And with that, he smoothly released his grip and stepped back.

“See you soon, Feyre darling,” he said.

Before she could say anything more, he vanished. Feyre glared at the space he departed, sighing as she inwardly conceded that she was far, far over her head with the High Lord. And she had the creeping sense she was already entangled beyond ten thousand marks and a twenty-four-hour bargain.

Nesta was going to kill her.

[sapphicshav]

both themes are so very hot shav OML OML AHHHH

AHH IKR >:D haven't been on here in a while, had to make sure my little visit was a special one :3

[sev-on-kamino]

A lil headcanon for ✨Commander Thorn✨

This is based on events in my series: ‘In Pieces’ but I wanted to share it ahead of that chapter because self-control has never come around me 😌 Also shout out to the Barbie meme for making this scene way more fun!

Thorn has made it his mission to arrest every member of Torrent Company (and the Ghost Company is on thin ice)

He brought Hardcase and Jesse in once, and the mugshots they took were so fantastic that he hung them on his office wall.

Next time he had to arrest Fives and Tup for a bar fight, and Fives treated his mugshot like a glamour shot, and Tup looked as angelic as possible.

He’s managed to get the whole company except for Kix and Dogma, and it will be like every holiday rolled into one, if he ever snags them.

Fox finds it hilarious, but he WILL NOT admit to it.

They never get in real trouble, but Thorn makes it a point to call Rex to come and get them.

It’s simultaneously awesome and shameful to have your mugshot in Thorn’s office.

Hardcase and Jesse often try to see how far they can go before getting arrested, and Hardcase always ends up cracking up during the process.

Rex has decreed that the next person to get arrested is going to be running drills until they beg for the sweet release of death.

Thorn is having too much fun calling him and he can’t take it anymore.

Since it’s also WIP Wednesday, please have a lil sneak peek/drabble thing below the cut:

“Oh, Maker, this is perfect,” Thorn said, arriving on the platform where you, Jesse, and Hardcase were being detained just outside of 79’s.

“I’ll have you know, we did not start the fight,” you said folding your arms and lifting your head proudly.

“But we did finish it,” Hardcase added with a grin.

“Thank you for that because I was missing this pretty girl’s face in my office,” He said booping your nose. “Just need Kix and Dogma for the full set.”

“You’ll never get those two,” Jesse shook his head.

“Oh, they’ll slip up, and I’ll be there,” He turned back to you. “You, my gorgeous friend, are really in for it.”

“Why me?” You pouted. “I think I should get special treatment.” You were not above using your friendship to get out of the inevitable call to Rex that would land all of you in a world of pain. He’d been so clear when you all left that any trouble was going to result in the kind of punishment that would go down in GAR history.

“I’ll let you make that request directly to Fox,” you could hear him smirking through the modulator, which confused you.

He had to have known by now that the pair of you had had a falling out. He didn’t know the details, but you’d raced right past him the last time you’d left Fox’s quarters. But Thorn’s loyalty would always lie with Fox, and you respected that.

You gave him a look, but with his bucket on, you had no idea if your message was received. You weren’t willing to say more in present company, so you just fumed silently.

“And now for my favorite part: you’re all under arrest for disorderly conduct, and I will be taking you in, and I will be calling Captain Rex.”

“This feels like an abuse of power. You should not be this happy,” you said, even as you heard Hardcase struggling not to laugh while Thorn placed the binders on your wrists with a flourish.

“And yet, I am,” he purred.

tagging: @deejadabbles @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream

also cause I think you’ll enjoy it (hope it’s ok): @ladyzirkonia