#andras pierce

[simpuritysims]

This story progression update is basically oops! All careers! As a result of the careers module finally firing and reorganising all the jobs in town.

The most interesting choices here include putting Nichole in the same job as Adrian, which will surely end well, and, uh...

Ella I love you but you do not have the qualifications to be your mom and dad's BOSS.

[askinkiskarma]

Is it time for me to get a nose piercing??? I think it is besties

[pearlprincess02]

1st house synastry playlist

mirrored vibes - 1st house synastry (playlist) / inner planets / asteroids

for when their jupiter is in your first house:

"good vibrations" - the beach boys / "happy" - pharrell williams / "ain't no mountain high enough" - marvin gaye & tammi terrell / "beautiful day" - U2 / "can't stop the feeling!" - justin timberlake /

for when your jupiter is in their first house:

"higher love" - steve winwood / "you raise me up" - josh groban / "firework" - katy perry / "can't hold us" - macklemore & ryan lewis / "hey soul sister" - train /

for when their saturn is in your first house:

"beautiful boy (darling boy)" - john lennon / "diamonds" - rihanna / "the scientist" - coldplay / "stronger (what doesn't kill you)" - kelly clarkson / "i will survive" - gloria gaynor /

for when your saturn is in their first house:

"the sound of silence" - simon & garfunkel / "say you won't let go" - james arthur / "someone you loved" - lewis capaldi / "best song ever" - one direction / "i'll stand by you" - the pretenders /

for when their uranus is in your first house:

"like a prayer" - madonna / "rebel yell" - billy idol / "electric feel" - mgmt / "blue suede shoes" - elvis presley / "don't stop believin'" - journey

for when your uranus is in their first house:

"power" - kanye west / "walking on sunshine" - katrina & the waves / "changes" - david bowie / "born this way" - lady gaga / "run the world (girls)" - beyoncé /

for when their neptune is in your first house:

"wish you were here" - pink floyd / "clair de lune" - claude debussy / "dreams" - fleetwood mac / "across the universe" - the beatles / "my immortal" - evanescence /

for when your neptune is in their first house:

"連れてって 連れてって" - dreams come true / "what the world needs now is love" - andra day / "imagine" - john lennon / "somewhere over the rainbow" - judy garland / "chasing pavements" - adele /

for when their pluto is in your first house:

"before he cheats" - carrie underwood / "runnin' on empty" - jackson browne / "carry on wayward son" - kansas / "holocene" - bon iver / "decode" - paramore /

for when your pluto is in their first house:

"secret" - the pierces / "heartbreaker" - pat benatar / "higher love" - kygo & whitney houston / "gives you hell" - all time low / "story of us" - taylor swift /

@pearlprincess02

main masterlist

[zenkindoflove]

Here you can find the complete list of my SJM fanfictions, commissioned fanarts, moodboards, and playlists. I mostly write Elucien, Eris x Alexius (Male OC), and Satharion.

Multichapter Fics

Summer Heat (E) - Elain x Lucien, Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

Complete, 114,890 words, 18/18 chapters

Summary: Summer Court is hosting the Summer Solstice Summit and the Night Court is sending their best emissaries to attend. It will be Elain's first time mingling in another court, and it's a good thing she has an expert guiding her: the mate she's been ignoring for the last two years. Meanwhile, Eris has been sent to the summit to spy on Summer's developments. What he doesn't anticipate is entangling in a steamy, forbidden romance

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 7

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 12

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 16

Eris x Alexius moodboard by @animezinglife

Eris x Alexius moodboard by @teddyhoneybear

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Burn Forever With Me (E) - Elain x Lucien

Complete, ~69,000 words

Summary: End of ACOSF. After Feyre's traumatic birth, Elain writes to Lucien seeking comfort and company. She soon realizes that opening up to him in letters is much easier without her family's constant presence. But how long can she keep falling for Lucien a secret?

NSFW art of Ch 13 by @works-of-heart

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Dear Lucien, Dear Elain: An Epistolary Fic (M) - Elain x Lucien, collab with @crazy-ache

Complete, 13/13 chapters, ~28,000 words

Summary: Epistolary (adj., of a literary work) in the form of letters. After the winter solstice in ACOSF, Elain and Lucien exchange letters as a means to get to know each other away from prying eyes. This fic is a collection of those letters.

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Pull Me in Deeper (E) Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

WIP, 20/22ish chapters posted

Summary: Needing more alliances, Eris strikes a deal with Helion: go to the continent and find out information for him, and Day Court will support him usurping Beron. What he didn’t account for is the beautiful Day Court emissary accompanying him that makes his heart race while being such a thorn in his side.

Eris x Alexius commissioned fanart 🍂☀️ by @works-of-heart

Eris x Alexius PMID fanart by @thrumugnyr

Eris x Alexius blob fanart by @bonecarversbestie

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Short Fics

Kneel Before Me (E) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, ~11,000 words

Summary: Lucien arrives at the House of Wind, only to be drawn into a sparring match with none other than the Inner Circle's own Shadowsinger. Things get out of hand and Azriel discovers whether he really can defeat Lucien easily.

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I Think I Saw You in My Sleep (E) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, ~10,000 words

Summary: The dreams of him come from the mating bond, but Elain wants them to stay.

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Our Hearts Still Beat the Same (E) - Elain x Lucien

Two-shot, ~17,000 words

Summary: "She stood on the bridge for a few minutes, hoping that the rain might wash away the seething anger and bottomless anguish that crackled under her skin. More, more, more, repeated again and again to a steady beat. His heart beat." Part One is Cozy Tension. Part Two is all smut.

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The Art of Seducing Your Merman Husband (E) - Sathia Flynn x Tharion Ketos

Two-shot, ~7,000 words

Summary: When Sathia realizes that Tharion is purposely ignoring all of her attempts at seduction, she decides on Valentine's Day that the only way to finally get her husband in her bed is to make a gesture so obvious, that even a merman with one brain cell would figure it out.

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Embrace (M) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, ~2,800 words

Summary: Elain is on a journey of embracing her Faeness. When studying Lucien's pierced ears, an idea forms in her head that she can't shake.

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Lone (T) - Andras x Clare Beddor

One-shot, ~4,300 words

Summary: Clare Beddor is dead, and she haunts the woods of The Middle. A skinless wolf shows up one day, he has a story to tell, and it reeks of revenge.

Moodboard

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Taste of You (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 2,200 words

Summary: Eris and his mate Alexius are on a tour of Autumn. Alexius is feeling cooped up in the carriage and Eris has an idea of how to release some tension. PWP

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Perennial (T) - Elain x Lucien

One-shot, 6,700 words

Summary: For Elucien Week 2024 Day 1: Fated. Fate has always been intertwined with Elain and Lucien's bond. An exploration of how soulmates find each other through every iteration of their existences.

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... And Again Into the Light (M) - Elain x Lucien, collab with @crazy-ache

One-shot, 10,000 words

Summary: For Elucien Week 2024 Day 6: Fearless. Elain has a vision that takes her and Lucien to the continent. In desperate need of rest, they rent a room for a night in an eerie inn that has an unnatural presence. Horror/Romance.

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Dancing Barefoot (E) - Elain x Lucien, minor Jassa

One-shot, 10,000 words

Summary: For Elucien Week 2024 Day 7: AU. “She is re-creation. She, intoxicated by thee”– Patti Smith. Historical AU 1970s – Elain is frustrated and aimless in her senior year of college. She doesn’t know what path to take with the way the world is changing. Then she meets Lucien, a punk rocker who also is becoming more disenfranchised with the scene. She’s drawn to his beauty and the danger in his eyes, and maybe just one night might be all she needs. Elucien, minor Jassa.

Moodboard

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Caress Me Down (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 2k words

Summary: Alexius pulls his hamstring and Eris has the perfect remedy: a massage. PWP. For Eris Week 2024 Day 3: Healing | Betrayal.

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The Jewel of The Forest House (T) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 5k words

Summary: Eris’ mate Alexius brings home a stray dog to the Forest House that Eris is reluctant to accept. Jewel is feisty, impolite, and most importantly, nothing like his smokehounds. For Eris Week 2024 Day 4: Tradition | Hounds

Eris & Hounds fanart with TJOTFH inspo by @little-fierling

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Carry You Home (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 15k words

Summary: During the Hybern battle, Eris is mortally wounded and ready to die. Until a knight in shining armor saves his life. He isn’t sure how to thank him, but he has all night to try. Takes place during ACOWAR. For Eris Week 2024 Day 5: War | Adventure.

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Ficlets Masterlist - Mix of Elucien, Satharion, and Eris x Alexius (Male OC).

Elucien Week 2024 Masterlist

Eris Week 2024 Masterlist

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Miscellaneous

Marry Me: a Satharion playlist

Free and unashamed: an Erixius playlist

Elucien 1980s clinch cover commissioned fanart by @dangerouslovesong

Erixius at the beach commissioned fanart by @luciensdefenseattorney

Freddie Fox Eris fancast commissioned fanart by @evermorelore

OC Alexius fanart by @queercontrarian

Erixius Vampire AU fanart by @works-of-heart

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You can find all of my SJM fanfiction as well as other fandoms on AO3.

[climbthemountain2020]

Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 12

Part 12 | Ao3

Thanks @witch-and-her-witcher I love you!

Feyre had the good sense to shift her ears in the chaos between the attor breaking through her door and dragging her from the dark room into the blaring lights of the hallway. It was still deep in the night by the looks of the sky, the stars twinkling down on them as if in laughter. The claws dug into her arm, but Feyre was focusing on what she could see, what she could hear. Some of Lucien and Andras’ first lessons for her had been about not panicking when things began to fall apart.

“Keep your wits about you, always,” Andras had said after another clean sweep from Lucien had flattened her on the ground. “You panic when you lose the upper hand, and it makes your thoughts frantic and your movements inconsistent. Always view it as you having the advantage, you just don’t know how yet. The confidence will make things easier.”

“How the hell can I have confidence when you’re all built like oak trees?” Lucien and Andras had laughed at her comment, but it was Lucien who clapped a massive hand over her shoulder, nearly knocking her forward with the momentum.

“The key is to focus on what’s around you. Take in only the details, and don’t project–not your fear, not your worry, not your next move. Only the facts, then go with what you see--what you know. Let that help calm you while you choose your next move.”

Feyre had rolled her eyes then. It was easy enough to say things like that, but in practice? How was she supposed to calm herself and take in details when a fae male the size of a small horse was barrelling towards her?

But even with the claws of the attor clamped around her bicep, the terror and pain rolling turbulently through her, she tried her hand at it now. She could see the hall, a flurry of motion with fae she didn’t recognize running amok. She could hear Calla screaming from her room, calling out for Tamlin in a shriek that pierced the air. She could smell blood and something sharp and sour in the air. Was it the panic? The fear?

The attor thrust her violently towards the stairs and Feyre took in the wreckage below. The manor had been ransacked, furniture and vases broken and shattered to pieces on the floor, the beautiful paintings of the foyer slashed purposefully and horribly, ruined beyond repair. There was blood smeared on the floor.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the attor practically threw her at Tamlin and Lucien, her arm shredding under its claws in the process. She cried out as Lucien caught her, preventing her fall. She looked up at him, and his wide, scared eyes mirrored everything she was feeling as another creature began throwing furniture from the balcony to see it shatter on the floor below. Feyre could still hear Calla screaming, three fae males holding Tamlin back as he snarled and attempted to break free when she crested the top of the stairs.

It was suddenly so loud, so overwhelming, and the steady gush of blood from her arm as Lucien tore a shred of his shirt and tried to bind her wound made her head swim with nausea.

“Hang on, Feyre. I’ve got you.” It was the most he had spoken to her since their fight, she thought with a sudden clarity before all the sounds around her crawled in again. Calla had been tossed down the last of the stairs, now quaking in Tamlin’s arms. It was so loud, so loud, and Feyre could hardly form a thought through the voices cascading around her. Why was it so loud?

She realized, then, that she wasn’t hearing talking, but the thoughts of those around her, the panic opening her mind to the horrors that everyone around her was experiencing. It was an onslaught of every thought flitting through the minds of the people in the manor. Low and horrifying was the growl of the attor, his thoughts quiet but bloodthirsty. He was thrilled that he was at the helm of this–he expected the praise from Amarantha would be worthy of something great. Tamlin’s thoughts were worried, angry, and frantic. The words barely came through, but the emotions did. Calla’s thoughts were pure terror, and Feyre realized she was at the biggest disadvantage of them all. Not only was she fully human with no powers to protect herself, but she was unarmed, and entirely unaware of the situation at hand. She had no idea who Amarantha was or what horrors were waiting. Lucien, standing closest to her and projecting his thoughts the most loudly, was sick at the thought of going back to Amarantha, the panic squeezing her heart as she nearly felt it through her own veins.

She wanted to hold him tight, comfort him, but the barrage of sound was burrowing into her very mind. She felt like she might vomit, might pass out here on this floor, and there would be nothing anyone could do to stop it.

The sounds rose so loudly they blurred into a roar like rushing water, her eyes squeezing shut and the edges of her consciousness beginning to darken and close in.

Then, like a great tolling of a bell, Tamlin’s voice–suddenly louder than all the rest–rang through her head clear as day.

Block it out.

The command of the High Lord was laced through his tone, his words, her body aching to follow it. But she didn’t know how.

“I can’t. I can’t!” She was screaming the words, not in her head but to the chaos of the room around them.

Build a wall. Construct it in your mind. Visualize it, Feyre, as real as you can.

She tried to listen, tried to take a deep breath, but the world was spinning. She felt like she was going to be sick all over the floor. But she tried. She yanked on all her magic, visualizing a tall, black wall like the one around her family home. She imagined the stone climbing higher and higher until she couldn’t see the top anymore. She wound it around her mind, until the screams became whispers then stopped entirely. The silence in her mind was the best thing she’d ever heard, despite the screams and crashing still happening around her. Her eyes met Tamlin's worried ones, and she realized she’d fallen to the floor at Lucien’s feet, her hands clawing at her ears and hot tears tracking down her face. She’d gotten overwhelmed, and something had broken a boundary in those strange daemati powers she’d gotten from Rhys.

Calla was behind Tamlin, his arm out to protect her from the chaos of the room as Lucien helped her up. She fell against him, the adrenaline of her panic making her legs shaky and unstable. Fae she’d never seen before and more creatures like the attor tore things off the walls, ripping wallpaper and leaving great gouges in the gilded paint. They laughed as they did it, the panicked screams of the staff seeming to give them joy as they fled into the night. Feyre felt her heart breaking as her home was destroyed, and she wrapped her arms around Lucien who seemed to sink into her, needing the comfort as much as she did. She felt the warmth of magic twist around her bicep, partially if not mostly healing the massive tear in her flesh. She wasn’t sure if it was Lucien or Tamlin who’d done it, but she was grateful nonetheless as the pain lessened.

The sounds began to die as Feyre struggled to get her breathing under control, the exhaustion creeping over her now. The attor, seeming to have had his fun, stood in front of them. Feyre lifted her chin, refusing to cower in his presence though a terrifyingly gruesome smile split his face as he took the four of them in.

Two others flanked him as they closed in on them.

“Time’s up,” he spoke darkly, then they reached out to grasp them and winnowed away.

+++

They hit the ground in the dark, the air damp and musty around them as Feyre tried to adjust her eyes. She could hear dripping in the background, and the cold of the cave seeped into her bones. She could feel Lucien’s warm hand find hers in the darkness, their fingers entwining and holding onto each other for dear life as the guards pushed them violently down what must be a hallway. She didn’t dare speak to him, but she gave his hand a little squeeze and received one back. It would need to be enough for now.

They wound through a maze of what appeared now to be tunnels as Feyre’s eyesight adjusted. The walls were hewn from stone that shone with condensation and moss. She could hear Calla’s occasional whimpers behind her, and she hoped that she was still with Tamlin the way Feyre had found her way to Lucien. She wondered if she could slow down in the small, cramped tunnel to bring them all closer, but she was unwilling to risk whatever punishment drawing attention to herself would carry with it.

Feyre’s heart hammered wildly in her chest as they soldiered on, the halls seeming to never end. At one point, Calla tried to speak, and a sharp slap, a yelp, and a growl from Tamlin followed. Feyre swallowed audibly as the attor growled “no talking”, and they pressed on.

After what seemed like hours of walking, they came to an abrupt halt. Feyre’s feet were aching painfully, her arches screaming and the need to lean against the disgusting wall behind her overwhelming. Her arm had started to throb even healed from the massive laceration earlier, and she was worried about how much longer she could keep up.

Before she could even finish the thought, she was once again being torn away violently, Lucien’s knuckles clicking against hers as he was pulled in the opposite direction. Calla was shrieking and fighting on the side of her, and through the darkness Feyre could see Lucien and Tamlin being hauled off. Feyre rushed to lower that wall she’d sloppily erected in her mind, hoping it wouldn’t be a violation to reach out to Lucien and Tamlin this way.

I will take care of her. Try to tell me what you find out if you can.

The exhaustion was immediate; she had not used this skill nearly enough to flex it this way, and she reeled in the male guard's arms as she pulled back. But Lucien and Tamlin’s eyes shot to hers, a quick, bewildered nod from Lucien and an expression of unreadable emotion on Tamlin’s face as the attor led the two males off.

Though the guard holding her was still rough, he lacked the claws of the attor and Feyre was thankful that he’d left them to these guards. The hallways twisted, the walls becoming more roughly carved and Feyre had the feeling that the floor was sloping down ahead of them. She took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising panic as they dipped further and further beneath the ground. Before long, she could hear distant moans and screaming, her entire body clenching with anticipation.

Surely they wouldn’t have bothered to bring them here just to kill them? They could have easily done so at the manor if that was the end goal all along.

They were shoved to the left, and the cell door clanged shut behind them before they could even turn. Calla threw herself at the bars, gnarled with rust, shaking them in her hands as though they might bend for her.

Feyre had never more fully and painstakingly understood the implications of their mortality than she did in that moment. She winced against the impact of the unforgiving stone on her aching body. She might have powers, but she was still fully human. Calla was even less protected. They’d need to play this as carefully as they could if there was any chance at all for them to survive.

“Don’t get used to the company; it won't last long.” The taller guard sneered as the other turned and began to walk away. “We’ll see what our queen wants to do with you soon enough.” He shot them a terrifying grin and then walked away too, the massive iron door at the end of the hall shutting with finality.

Calla whirled on Feyre immediately. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Under the Mountain.” She was immediately up and looking around the cell for weaknesses, for any way out, trying to ignore her baser instincts and rising panic as the urge to rattle the bars and scream took over.

“Feyre.”

She ignored Calla, quickening her pace around the small room, running her hands over the stone walls and metal bars.

“Feyre!”

“WHAT?” She turned, hissing, shocking even herself at the anguish in her voice. She’d known it was coming, but the impact of their predicament was crashing into her all at once. She felt destabilized, everything shifting beneath her.

Was Rhys close? Would she dream of him here?

She wanted to close her eyes and cry and rage and scream. What had made her think she was capable of this? She’d barely arrived, and she was already in a dungeon.

“We’re in Amarantha’s court. Time ran out.” Nothing stopped her from speaking this time. The curse was over, and none of it mattered anymore–no magic bound her. Calla looked lost–so small–for the first time in the confined of the dark, dirty cell. Feyre’s shoulders dropped.

Feyre came and sat in front of her on the ground, taking Calla’s hand in her own. There was no use fighting this. They would return for them when they had need, and until then, she needed to focus on being calm and keeping her promise. If she couldn’t escape from here, she would never find Rhys anyway.

Keep your wits about you, always.

I’m trying, Andras, she thought.

“How do you know where we are?” The accusing tone in Calla’s voice stung, but she owed her answers.

“Do you remember the blight?”

Calla nodded.

“It’s more than that, too.”

So, Feyre told her everything about the curse, the light dying in Calla’s eyes at each revelation. By the end of it, Feyre was leaning against the wall, exhausted and sad and trying to use the rest of her energy to fight off the impending feeling of hopelessness crawling in her veins. She had known this was the end point, had known she would still come here for him, but being trapped down here, feeling as though her days were numbered, gave a base reaction she felt powerless to fight against.

“Gods, stupid. I’m so stupid. I could love him. I might. I almost said it last night when we...fuck, Feyre. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We couldn’t. It was part of the curse. Until today, we could no more have said a word about it than you could have grown wings to fly.” Feyre just sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the unforgiving wall. It was cruel how close they’d come.

“Maybe it isn't too late.” The hope in Calla’s voice was somehow worse than the accustation.

Feyre gestured at the dungeon cell around them, “What makes you think that?”

Calla gave her a look, but before she could respond, the door to the stone hallway clanked open, the iron of it groaning as steps drew closer.

“Hope you brought your court dresses. Time to meet the queen.”

Feyre was deciding on all the different ways she might kill the attor as he shoved them from the cell, a different guard now on each side taking their arms so violently she knew there would be bruises. She wasn’t sure how long the walk would be to wherever they were to meet Amarantha, but Feyre was already pulling inward. In the silence, she was drawing on the magic within her, feeling it swell and swirl and expand in her chest. She would need to be smart about this; everyone’s lives hung in the balance.

She tried to prepare herself–tried to think of all the ways this could go: Amarantha might kill them immediately, knowing they didn’t add anything but perhaps entertainment to the court Under the Mountain.

She tried to think of a second option and failed. Two humans in a court of fae ruled by a cruel queen who loved violence–there weren’t many additional outcomes.

Feyre checked to make sure that her glamour held and her ears were still pointed. She glanced back at Calla. Could she glamour her too? She tried to stretch that magic out, make it reach for Calla, but she hit an invisible wall, the tether of the magic refusing to extend to someone else. She sighed. It was for the best. She wasn’t sure even if she could extend it that she could hold it. She was glad she’d practiced on herself. Covering the tattoo had paid off, and she barely felt the tax of disguising her ears as well.

All she could do now was hope it held through whatever awaited them ahead.

The halls began to get taller and wider the longer they walked, the light burning Feyre’s eyes a bit as they shuffled towards it. They weren’t put in any restraints or chains, a testament to just how weak they were amongst the company here.

They were led through towering doors, taller than even the manor had been, the top of the cave seeming dark and endless, like Feyre might see the stars of the night sky if she looked hard enough. But once they were through the doors, the stone shifted, turning light and smooth as it reached towards the heavens. The room was cradled by pillar after pillar, each supporting the grandiose ceilings and massive throne room they were walking into.

The floors were lacquered, shining red, looking for everything like the color of freshly spilled blood. The light from the various chandeliers splashed across it, leaving strange shapes and patterns of opulence cast out where the floor wasn’t occupied by throngs of High Fae.

In some strange way, it seemed that they were having a party, mingling, even. There was a crowd further in the room that seemed to be circling something, quick flashes of movement catching Feyre’s eyes, but the blur of activity between her and them made it impossible to see what was going on. There was food and drink and music, the air humming with spice and sound and something that sounded horrifyingly like merriment. The High Fae parted to form a path and looked at Feyre and Calla as they passed, some with interest and some with disgust. Feyre made sure that the wall in her mind was up and strong, then made sure the magic glamouring her ears was working. She held her chin high. She would not appear here looking afraid. She had not come all this way to die scared.

She fought the urge to scan the crowd for Rhys and lost, her eyes poring over the faces of fae as they watched her too. But he was nowhere to be found. She wasn’t sure if she was more relieved or disappointed. If she were going to die, it would have been nice to see his face again.

As they reached the front of the crowd, a silence fell across the throne room, even the discordant music stopping as though to listen. And there, in front of them on a black, warped throne, sat the queen.

Amarantha.

Feyre was shocked that she wasn’t prettier; she looked nothing like she’d made her up to be in her mind. She had a shock of blood red hair that cast a sharp contrast against her pale skin. It matched her lips and nails, both painted to look like they were dripping with blood. Her face was elegant, but pressed into a permanent sneer, making her look like something just this side of gruesome. But it wasn’t her appearance that caused Feyre to freeze.

There, on the throne next to hers, sat Tamlin. Feyre frantically scanned the crowd for Lucien, as she heard Calla squeak next to her. She found him standing near the foot of the dais, his head bowed but eyes pointed squarely on her. She almost brought her walls down to reach out for him, but the nearly imperceptible shake of his head stopped her.

Tamlin, for whatever reason, did not look at the two of them, instead choosing to seek a place beyond their heads, out over the crowd. His face was cool, impassive, strangely bored in this macabre setting.

He didn’t look horrified, didn’t look angry. Just looked…unimpressed.

Feyre saw Calla take a small step forward.

“Stop.” The whisper was so low that only Calla could have heard it, and she did. As everything fell entirely silent, Amarantha leaned forward on her throne, hands curling over the armrests of it.

“Oh? What’s this?” Amusement glittered in her eyes, and it was a sight more horrible than anything else Feyre could imagine somehow. “Move back,” Amarantha spoke to the crowd, gesturing waving them off with a flick of her hand. The High Fae complied without a word, leaving Calla and Feyre and their guard exposed and in the open.

“These are the two we brought in with them,” the attor jerked his grotesque, receding chin at Lucien. Feyre could feel Calla trembling next to her, and she looked back at her to see her eyes fixed to their left where the crowd had just parted. Feyre caught the garbled gasp in her throat, clenching it between her teeth and desperately trying to fix her face.

The fae had been beating–torturing–a human woman, marred now almost beyond recognition. The pool of blood was smeared across the floor around her, as though she’d been tossed around. She wasn’t moving, and Feyre couldn’t tell if she was still alive.

“Clare.” The word was a hushed whisper Feyre was sure no one had heard but her. She knew that Calla’s next step would be towards the girl, the one whose name Tamlin had offered up to save them.

She ripped a block from that wall in her mind, tunneling into Calla’s.

Don’t.

A strangled noise left Calla, her eyes wide enough to burst from her head as she heard Feyre’s soft voice in her mind, then narrowing with hurt as she turned on her.

You had powers the whole time.

It wasn’t a question.

I’m sorry, Calla. Don’t show fear, don’t let her see how it affects you.

She could see Calla aching to ask more.

Later.

And Feyre pulled from her mind before she could say or hear anything else.

Amarantha’s voice boomed around them from the dais and both their attention snapped back.

“What a delightful treat. It seems you’ve brought me the wrong human.” The attor and the guards turned their heads down apologetically, supplicating themselves to her. Feyre held her sneer. Her wall was slipping with her nerves, and she could still hear Calla’s racing thoughts.

My fault, mine, my fault, as Clare lay on the floor. Be brave, be brave, be brave.

“Now tell me,” Amarantha leaned forward, “What brings you here?”

Be brave.

Calla stepped forward, her chin jutting out and shoulders back, though from this close Feyre could see her shaking.

“I am here to claim the one I love.” This was Calla’s last effort, the final possible hope before all hell broke loose. Feyre had never been much for praying, but she bid every god and entity that might be listening to help them now.

Amarantha’s smile was wild, mocking as she whispered. “And who might that be?”

“The High Lord of Spring.” Feyre let her eyes wander to Lucien and then Tamlin. Tamlin’s face remained impassive, but Feyre saw him trying hard to hide the flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Oh, Tamlin?” She averted her gaze to the male sitting next to him, and she smiled, a cruel, wicked thing. Feyre could feel the rage pouring off of Calla beside her. “Seems he’s busy at the moment.”

All the air rushed from her lungs when Amarantha’s predatory eyes moved to Feyre. She steeled herself. If she served no purpose here, would she kill her outright? She was disguised as fae, so perhaps not. Would it be better to serve a purpose, even if it was a dangerous one, if only to keep her useful? She remembered what Lucien had called her: a bargaining chip. She knew the history between Lucien and Amarantha, the story of it fresh in her mind.

She could feel Amarantha’s appraising stare from head to toe. She had to make a choice.

“And what are you here for, little fae?”

Feyre’s eyes locked on Lucien’s, and he registered what she was going to do a second before she did it.

“Feyre, don’t!” he yelled, but it only lent credence to her plan.

“I am here with Lucien.” Her voice was braver than she felt, the eyes of the fae around the room all on her.

“Delicious.” Amarantha all but hissed, the sound reminding Feyre of a snake ready to strike. “Did you hear that, boys? Your brother seems to have found another activity for you.” Feyre traced Amarantha’s sight line to a group of males, the copper color of their hair could only mean one thing. Lucien’s head dropped. “We’re going to have a lovely time with you.”

Feyre refused to let the fear show on her face, the defiant mask the only one she allowed through.

But Amarantha only smiled, making the anxiety coil in Feyre’s gut despite her outward appearance.

“Oh, Rhysand?” And all Feyre’s blood froze.

From the shadows at the side of the throne, he materialized like a ghost from the darkness, strutting in that same way that he had in Spring when Feyre had seen him through Tamlin’s memories. It was arrogant, leisurely pacing, as though he had no cares in the world. Feyre thought, even so, he looked even more beautiful in person–a regal prince of night. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him, his presence making the magic in her chest run wild and hammer through her heart. But even beneath the catlike smile, she could see the exhaustion around his eyes. She wondered if anyone else could.

She saw the moment it registered for him.

He had been elsewhere, the call pulling him from something else. She wasn’t sure if he could sense her presence, or if he could smell her, but the change-up was nearly imperceptible. His jaw clenched, a tightening beneath his ear, and she noticed his knuckles whitening as his eyes scanned the crowd. When he found her, almost immediately, she saw his throat bob as he swallowed, never changing pace or expressions.

“Yes, my queen?”

For a moment, Amarantha seemed to be deep in thought, no quick, cloying reply on her tongue. The fae of the throne room waited, and she blinked one, twice, then that putrid smile spread across her face.

“I have a task for you. A gift, if you will.”

“You honor me, my lady. I am undeserving.” He sketched a bow so small it towed the line of mocking, but his eyes, his expression, showed nothing.

“We have Lucien’s beloved here. It seems he’s finally managed to move on.”

“Is that so?” The voice was measured, equal parts mocking and cautious, and again Feyre wondered who here might be able to parse that out aside from her.

“It is. I would like for you to take good care of her.”

What? Feyre’s head swung up as though on a swivel. Could she truly have mistakenly wound up under Rhysand’s care simply by way of choosing the most dangerous route? How could she have failed upwards so incredibly hard? She ripped an opening in that wall in her mind, practically screaming at Lucien.

Make it convincing. Please.

He didn’t hesitate. “No!” The satisfaction on Amarantha’s face was immediate, but Rhys’s was undercut with something else, something she could almost taste on her tongue as she looked at him. Was he jealous?

“Oh, Lucien.” Amarantha tutted at him. “You should have known better.”

“Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Yes, you will.” Feyre worried about him, worried about Rhys, worried about everyone, but she had managed to control the smallest part of the situation for now, and the rattling of her heart in her chest seemed to quiet for the first time in hours.

Amarantha was already focused back on Calla, her predatory eyes looking up and down her bedraggled, human form appraisingly. “Now, what will we do about you?”

Calla’s face showed set determination that Feyre genuinely felt awe to behold; she could feel the fear coming off her in waves, but she was holding her ground admirably, unflinchingly.

“I’ll make a bargain with you, human. You complete three tasks of my choosing–three tasks to prove that human love–loyalty–truly exists, and Tamlin is yours.”

“I want his curse broken, too.” Amarantha’s eyes glittered in amusement while Calla spoke. “If all the tasks are completed, his curse is broken, and all of us can leave here and remain free forever.” Feyre was genuinely impressed by her specificity. She had learned quickly.

“Of course, I’ll even give you a bonus for fun. Just to see if you’re smart enough to deserve a fae male. I’ll give you a way out, girl. If you can solve a riddle of my choosing, the curse will be broken instantly, and they’ll all be free. But if you answer incorrectly…” She twirled her finger to point at Clare’s broken body, and Feyre saw Calla swallow.

Calla was quiet, her eyes distant as she debated internally. She looked at Tamlin, his face still unbelievably uninterested in the events unfolding in front of him.

“If the answer to the riddle is spoken at any point, everyone goes free, no questions asked?” Amarantha smiled as though she was speaking to a child, clearly believing Calla to be too stupid to solve whatever puzzle she would give her.

“Of course.” Feyre could hear the chuckles from the crowd as Amarantha’s patience with Calla tinged with taunting. “Is it agreed, human?”

“Agreed.”

The smile on Amarantha’s face held a promise of something horrid. “Perfect.” She steepled her fingers together. “Solve this, human, and everyone goes free.”

Through pain of resistance, through struggle apart The plan of the cauldron, a true work of heart Firmer than steel but lighter than feathers Equal in measure but stronger together Unbreakable vows, both spoken and soundless A link to each other, an agreement that's boundless A treasure through time, through trouble and hate No matter the circumstance, you can't outrun fate

Feyre took the words and tried to memorize them, puzzling it over in her head as she saw Calla’s mind working in tandem. She’d never liked tricks of logic, nor had she been particularly good at them. Nesta used to pour over them in their study time until her mother or school teacher beat her hands bloody, but Feyre had never understood the allure. She’d avoided them like the plague, preferring just about anything else over logic puzzles, but she was kicking herself for it now.

Perhaps Rhys could help her.

“You'll both do menial labor in the interim. Can’t have you staying here for nothing, now can we?” The words were saccharine, but the evil twist in Amarantha’s eye was enough to make Feyre’s body shudder involuntarily. “Enjoy your stay. We’ll be seeing you soon.” She waggled painted nails at them, then snapped her fingers.

Feyre felt a sudden rush of cold at her back before his scent hit her, overwhelming now that he was so close. She was wrapped in it, the smell of oranges and salt and spice wrapping around her like a blanket before his hands did.

I’m sorry for this, echoed in her head as he roughly tugged her hurt arm. She yelped involuntarily as he brushed against the tender, barely healed skin from the attor. But no sooner had the sound left her mouth than she felt the pain soothe away immediately.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Amarantha nod to the creatures that had been flanking them, seeing them close in on Calla.

“Wait! Calla!” Feyre heard Calla’s screams as Rhys pulled her from the throne room. Her mind went into overdrive, her only instincts telling her to fight, to get back to help Calla. She couldn’t abandon her there. She looked back up at Tamlin through the chaos, sitting motionless in his throne.

What the hell was he doing?

She scanned the crowd for Lucien, kicking and screaming as Rhys pulled her effortlessly from the room.

Stop fighting. She was furious with Rhys suddenly, a feeling unfamiliar to her. Please, Feyre. His voice was soft in her mind, comforting, but the rage she felt at being unable to help Calla, now entirely swarmed and invisible within the chaos, was overwhelming her. She stopped thrashing as he tugged her through the massive doors, the exhaustion suddenly overcoming her making her want to cry.

Calla’s screams faded into echoes as he pulled her through the halls. The second they were out of everyone’s sight line, that sweeping, sickening feeling overtook her again like it had in the woods with Vilja, and she was suddenly in a dark room. It looked nearly unlived in, apart from the large fireplace and great bed–no weapons or books or personal touches to be found. There was no light either, save for a few flickering candles. But it smelled overwhelmingly of Rhys.

“We have to go back. I have to–” A sob crept from her throat unbidden, and in response, Rhys held her to him, smoothing his hands down her hair.

“She’s okay. I took her pain from her. I did the same for Clare before I left. She’s not suffering. I can heal her once she’s back in her cell.”

“We can’t just leave her–” He took her hands in his.

“We must, Feyre. Or they’ll kill you both. We have to let it happen.” She deflated like sails on a windless sea, the tears tracking hot trails down her face as the fight went out of her.

She drew back, staring at him. She couldn’t believe he was here–here, the two of them together at last. But the furrow between his brows deepend, something akin to anger burning hot around him.

“What are you doing here?” The words came out as a snarl, a tone he’d never used with her before, and rather than be shocked that rage built right back within her.

“Weren’t you sending me dreams??”

“Yes, to prepare you if something horrid were to happen! Not to tell you to seek out a way to come here yourself!”

She couldn’t believe that she was finally here, and he was going to argue with her about it. She’d expected he would be upset with her for taking matters into her own hands, but it didn’t hurt any less now that it was happening in front of her. “Well, you didn’t exactly leave clear instructions.”

“You said you would wait.”

“Yes, and wait for what? You were never going to be free of her. I had to do something.”

He scrubbed his hand over his face, tired, pacing.

He turned so quickly she could barely register the movement before he pulled her into his chest, some of that affronted rage melting away as he whispered her name like a prayer. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” And there it was–that peace she’d expected to feel once they were together for good, no longer simply touching through their dreams. The magic stirred within her, rumbling as though it was purring, and she molded around his form. They stood, holding each other for what felt like hours, the quiet sound of their breathing the old thing between them.

“I could see you in the dreams, but it was all faded, warped. I couldn’t tell if it was real. I couldn’t tell where you were.”

“I knew if you found me you’d send me home. I’m sorry.”

He sighed deeply, burying his face back in the crook of her neck. She smiled as he inhaled deeply.

“I didn’t want you to see this part of me. I didn’t want you to know me this way.” His voice was muffled, but she could tell it was rough with emotion. Feyre pulled back to look at him.

“I meant what I said, Rhysand. I see you–I see beneath the mask. You don’t scare me.” His violet eyes found hers, the power of the vast span of galaxies contained within them and focused entirely on her.

He averted his eyes, and she could feel his vulnerability cloaking him–feel his dislike for it. But still he held her, sunk into her embrace. “Why were you in Spring?”

And so she told him everything, from the night of the ball to now. At one point he walked them to the bed, silk sheets that she recognized from her dreams sliding against her skin. They sat, then they laid back, the level of comfort seeming as natural as though they’d done it for years.

As she spoke, he healed her arms, the bruises from the guards and the tender slash from the attor smoothing away as though they’d never happened at all. She told him about Vincent and Vilja and the bargain to give her magic. She told him about how Lucien and Tamlin, and eventually Calla too, had become family to her. She explained how everything had just come to a head the night before, that they’d been mad at her and none of them had been on speaking terms when the attor had come bursting through the doors of the manor, and she wasn’t sure where it left them all now. She finished it all with a sigh; she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt this tired in her life, the shock and adrenaline finally wearing off now that she felt marginally safe.

“How did you find out who I was?”

“I was reading books on all the courts while I waited in Spring. I thought it was smart to know as much as I could about Prythian.” Rhys smiled down at her with something akin to pride.

“Smart girl.”

“I had saved the book on Night for last,” she laughed. “I assumed I didn’t have much reason to learn about the High Lord of the Night Court because he sounded scary, and I was sure you wouldn’t make me live in such a terrifying place.” She smiled up at him and found amusement dancing in his eyes. “Imagine my surprise…”

“I’m sure they didn’t hesitate to tell you, but Tamlin and I aren’t exactly on the friendliest of terms.”

“Oh, they told me.” Rhys laughed at Feyre’s tone. “They tried to talk me out of it, but nothing was going to change my mind, and I told them as much. At the end of the day, though, I know they were trying to keep me safe. I don’t agree with them, but I can’t fault them for caring for me.” Rhys nodded in agreement.

“Perhaps once we leave here, I can find it in myself to thank them for helping look out for you.” The sentiment of it all had Feyre grinning back at him.

“Gods, it’s all been so much for the last months waiting to come here, and even so I was so unprepared. What luck that her evil plotting led me right to you, hmm?”

“It wasn’t luck.” Rhys’s words were sharp and immediate.

“What do you mean?”

“The second I saw you, I delved into her thoughts. She was going to have me hold your mind while Lucien watched and his brothers had their way with you, very publicly. She’d have had me kill you after that.” Feyre gasped, the nausea crawling up her throat. “I influenced her. Made her see the prolonged emotional torture we could inflict if she gave you to me as a plaything.”

Feyre had been so stupid, and that overwhelming feeling of being entirely out of her depth overtook her once again. She felt sick to know what had almost happened, embarrassed at the blind relief she’d felt. She was so ill-equipped for this–how could she possibly play any part in setting them all free?

You must be strong, unbreakable, cunning in the name of love, or you will not succeed.

She remembered Vilja’s words, almost constantly. Was she any of those things? She steeled herself. She had to be. She would be.

“Didn’t you lose your powers?”

“Not all of it. I can’t do anything earth shattering with my magic anymore, but small, insignificant influences can still be done to her. I just have to be careful about it. If I set off any red flags for her, it would be a matter of life and death.”

“You would risk that?”

“For you, I would.” He tucked her into his side, his smell surrounding her along with his arms, and Feyre felt that bone-deep exhaustion once again.

“Do you know the answer to the riddle?” Rhys nodded. “You can’t tell me, can you?”

“No, I cannot.” She should have known Amarantha wouldn’t leave any loose ends. It was a problem for tomorrow, her mind unable to keep thinking things through.

As sleep began to take her, she heard him ask “What’s your end of the bargain, then?”

“Hmm?” She yawned, eyes already falling closed.

“The bargain with Vilja, what's your part in it?”

“Oh, right. You just have to…” but her throat closed, that familiar feeling of halting magic gripping it. “You just…” she couldn’t, the panic ripping through her as she realized what was happening. “You need to–” But the words wouldn’t come. The tears did.

She couldn’t tell him. These stupid fae bargains were going to be the death of her.

“Shh shh,” he saw her panic and pulled her close. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out. I will do everything I can to keep you safe here, Feyre. We will survive this.” He held her hands in his, running his fingers over the knuckles until they caught and he looked down. She felt the moment he recognized the ring she wore. “You kept it.”

“I did.” Her voice was thick with tears.

“I’ve had it for centuries–it was a gift from my mother. It always reminded me most of home before I met you.”

She didn’t miss the hope in his eyes.

Hope.

It spread through her body, her chest, her very being. She would need it, every bit of it, as the panic around the predicament she found herself in began to tug relentlessly at her heart.

Taglist: Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

@cauldronblssd @buttercupcookies-blog @witch-and-her-witcher @yeonalie

[loganspuppyboy]

my f/o list :D

ok so bolded means i’m uncomfortable sharing them but it is (probably) ok if we are mutuals/friends and if you have them as a platonic/familial f/o!!!

also it is a long ass list😭 i have a lot of love to give. alssooo group tag for all my kids is kiddos <3 bc im lazy and some f/os i feel rlly strong about and some are just for fun yk!!!

-lloyd garmadon from ninjago (it’s complicated but i love him dearly)

-michael afton from fnaf (romantic) tag: terchael <3

-henry emily from fnaf (parental figure/dad)

-espresso cookie from crk/cookie run (romantic) tag: esence <3

-jeremy fitzgerald from blueycapsules/fnaf (romantic) tag: jerence <3

-thoma from genshin impact (romantic) tag: teroma <3

-aether from genshin impact (romantic) tag: terraether <3

-sammy from my mind/oc (kid/familial) 

-gregory from fnaf (kid/familial)

-charlie/charlotte emily from fnaf (sister/familial)

-maven calore from the red queen series (romantic)

-alex from stardew valley (romantic)

-christopher lightwood from the shadowhunter chronicles (platonic)

-princess peach from nintendo (platonic)

-peggy carter from marvel (romantic) tag: every girl has her rose <3

-daniel sousa from marvel’s agent carter (queerplatonic)

-logan howlett from marvel (romantic) tag: logence <3

-natasha romanoff from marvel (platonic)

-diana prince from dc (platonic, maybe romantic??)

-pepper potts from marvel (platonic)

-sam wilson from marvel (romantic) tag: tersam <3

-steve rogers from marvel (romantic) tag: red white and irish blue <3

-magnus bane from the shadowhunter chronicles (platonic)

-apple white from ever after high (queerplatonic) tag: whipped apples <3

-bruce wayne from dc (romantic) tag: batarangs pierced my heart <3

-clark kent from dc (queerplatonic) tag: 💙❤️

-simon lewis/lovelace from the shadowhunter chronicles (queerplatonic i think)

-sharon carter from marvel (platonic/shes my niece technically)

-damian wayne from dc (familial/kid)

-jason todd from dc (familial/kid)

-dick grayson from dc (familial/kid)

-cass(andra) cain from dc (familial/kid)

-barbara gordon from dc (familial/kid)

-steph(anie) brown from dc (familial/kid)

-tim drake from dc (familial/kid)

-duke thomas from dc (familial/kid)

-laura kinney from marvel (familial/kid)

-sue richards/storm from marvel (platonic)

-alfred pennyworth from dc (platonic)

-selina kyle from dc (platonic)

-gabrielle kinney from marvel (grandkid💔)

-patrick bateman from american psycho (romantic) tag: 🎧♥️

-terry mcginnis from batman beyond (familial/kid)

-harper row from dc (familial/kid)

-johnny cade from the outsiders (hes my nephew<3)

-darry curtis from the outsiders (romantic) (fine with sharing but not like. in canon ships yk)

-t’challa from marvel (platonic)

-sodapop curtis from the outsiders (basically my kid/familial)

-ponyboy curtis from the outsiders (basically kid/familial)

-coriolanus snow from the hunger games (romantic) tag: 🖤❄️

-luke fox from dc (platonic)

-lucius fox from dc (platonic)

-mar'i grayson/nightstar from dc/titans (MY GRANDKID!!!!!!!)

-conner kent from dc (nephew)

-jon kent from dc (nephew)

-cassie from fnaf (niece)

-fred from the muppets christmas carol (nephew)

-herb cookie from cookie run (nephew)

-willy wonka from wonka 2023 (nephew)

-cullen row from dc (kid)

-daken akihiro from marvel (kid)

-dex poindexter from daredevil/marvel (romantic) tag: terdex <3

-abdonis from ringfit adventure (romantic)

-hank hall from titans/dc (platonic)

-dawn granger from titans/dc (platonic)

-karen page from daredevil/marvel (romantic) tag: 🤍📰

-amora (the enchantress) from marvel (romantic) tag: enchant me with your love <3

-sally jackson from percy jackson (romantic) tag: 💙✏️

-devon cassidy from i met a girl (platonic)

-dinah madani from the punisher/marvel (romantic) tag: terah <3

-amy bendix from marvel/the punisher (kid)

-the uno wild card/+4 uno wild card from uno (romantic)

-ryder page from roblox piggy (romantic)

-zizzy from roblox piggy (queerplatonic)

-pony from roblox piggy (queerplatonic)

-the warden from minecraft (romantic)

-the queen from a deck of cards (romantic)

-odysseus from the odyssey and any other media with him in it ig (romantic)

[ts2cambremon]

Ren: Don't move! Who are you?

Andra: Is she wearing mithril? Only explanation for an armor in this weather... *whispering to Ren* Not sure our magic can pierce it...

Dormund: *looking around in panic, to see if the woman has company*

[onlygarden]

VIIII!! LONG HAIR JUNGWON IS SO HOT OMFGGGG AND LIKE THE PIERCING (??) ON HIS NECK GODDAMNN

OH MY GOD ANDRA I DONT EVEN WANNA THINK ABOUT IT ANYMORE I JUSY CANT TAKD IT………… HES OUT OF HIS MIND UGHHHH… AND HIS LEGS OMFG

[yandereocs]

Break-in: Yandere Andras x reader

Someone is breaking into your house.

Every day you wake up to freshly made breakfast. The house is tidy, not a single spec of dust anywhere. And there's always some sort of note. Today was no different.

"Good morning, my love. There's snacks in the pantry and fresh groceries in the fridge. I hope you have a wonderful day."

You never eat the food and you always toss out the note.

You don't even know how your stalker is getting in. No broken windows, the door is intact, the lock hasn't been tampered with...no secret entrances, either.

But he keeps getting in.

And not just while you sleep. If you leave the house for work, or class, or just to hang out with friends, you always come back to the same sight.

Whatever mess you had left behind was gone. Dishes washed, laundry done and folded, and one of your favorite meals on the table. Always hot like it was just made.

Calling the police does jackshit. Technically speaking, you haven't been physically harmed and there hasn't been a single threat made to you. So there's nothing they can do aside from offering to have a patrol car outside for the night.

The next morning, the officer is found dead in his car. You didn't see the body, but you were notified of what had happened and given a note found at the scene of the crime. And of course, it has that sickeningly familiar handwriting.

"Please don't get others involved, darling. I don't mean any harm."

You don't know what to do. You get more locks, stronger ones for the door. You get security cameras, you get motion detectors, ANYTHING to stop this creep from getting inside.

But nothing works. As always, the locks are untouched. The cameras record nothing aside from you and occasional static. Piece of junk.

Motion detectors don't do anything, either.

You're paranoid. You can't sleep. There's someone getting in your house and you don't know how. You even started to think that maybe he was just living in your walls like all those freak internet stories. But why wouldn't the cameras pick anything up?

Even as you're awake, you don't know how he's getting in. You stay in the kitchen since that's where most of the activity is. But the second you leave the room, you come back to something. A cup of tea or coffee, a small meal, or even just a note.

"Go to sleep, dear. Humans can't withstand sleep deprivation."

If moving was an option, you would have done it in a heartbeat.

He's watching you. Right now. He's in your house this very moment. He has to be! How else could he have left that note in a matter of minutes?

You tear your house apart, trying to find any hiding spot or secret hidey-hole or...anything! But there's nothing. The place is empty. You're the only one inside.

You're losing your mind. Your little stalker can tell, you know he can, because he leaves flowers and food from your favorite restaurant the next day. And a note. Of course.

"Hello, my love. I apologize for causing so much distress, it's not my intention. I simply want to take care of you. Please, enjoy this meal and get some rest. I assure you, I did nothing to tamper with it."

You're exhausted. You can't take this anymore. Maybe he'll leave you alone if you stop fighting him. So you eat the food and you go to sleep, your body feeling heavy and sluggish. You fall asleep almost immediately.

And when you wake, you immediately felt eyes on you.

You pretend to be asleep, keeping your eyes shut and trying to keep your breathing slow and steady, trying not to give away the utter terror you're feeling. He's in your house. In your room. Watching you sleep.

His presence is suffocating. Like the air is dark and heavy. His stare feels so uncomfortable, like he's able to pierce your soul. You don't want to open your eyes. Don't want to look at him. ACKNOWLEDGE him.

You feel sick. Your heart is pounding rapidly and you honestly feel like you might have a heart attack. Is this it? Are you going to die? Or is this sick freak going to kidnap you? You don't know. Don't know, don't know.

"I know you're awake. That's okay, love. You can keep your eyes closed."

Your blood ran cold.

You didn't even hear him move. Just a minute ago he was in the corner of your room, and now he's leaning over you and whispering in your ear.

You don't know what to do. You're too scared to even think, your body frozen as you keep your eyes shut. He knows you're awake. How does he know? Is he bluffing? Trying to get your eyes to open?

"I normally wouldn't do this, but I just couldn't help myself."

His voice is smooth and hypnotizing. If you weren't utterly terrified, you probably would've been compelled to open your eyes.

"Seeing you in such an unstable emotional state was...not enjoyable for me. I hate to be the cause of such negative emotions. So, I wanted to reassure you in person."

A sudden heat burns into your forehead and you flinched. The heat is suddenly removed.

"Ah, my apologies. I forgot that my body heat is much higher than humans...don't fret, I'm simply giving you a kiss."

The heat returns to your forehead and you tremble. His lips are soft and feel gentle despite the unnatural warmth. Even so, the kiss just makes you feel sick.

"I love you very much, my dear. I will never bring you any harm. So, please, allow me to take care of you."

And then he's gone. You slowly open your eyes and there's nothing. No one in your room. The suffocating presence is gone. It's just you, all alone.

You hoped that this was the end. That maybe he would stop now that he understands just how much it was freaking you out.

But the next morning, it was the same thing.

A perfectly cooked meal sitting on your table, nice and hot, with a note in front of it.

"It was a pleasure to finally feel your skin against my lips. I hope to have a proper talk with you soon."

A proper talk is the last thing you want from this freak. Your eyes glanced down to the bottom of the note.

"Love, Andras."

[thehighlordofspring]

broken ties & bloody bonds

the origin story of Tamlin and Lucian | a Kip and Koda adventure for @inabcck

The wind rushed through Tamlin’s hair as his horse galloped through the NorthWest woods. The sound of clopping hooves and Andras’ wild laughter echoed through the trees. Tamlin rolled his eyes and bent further down, urging his steed into further speed, and ducking underneath a low branch ahead of him. He wasn’t about to let his sentry win a race that easily. His pride could take the loss, but he still had a reputation to uphold. Despite everything he’d done to change the Spring Court, some things required stitching and not sledgehammers.

Andras raced ahead. Tamlin circled the woods until he ended up in a wide-open glade. Tall Maples rose into the sky above him and fresh dirt silenced the gallop into a slow canter. It was quiet — too quiet. He gently tugged Elodin’s mane, reining him in, and training his ear on the horizon. 

A loud crash tumbled through the underbrush, followed by a brutal scream. Tamlin’s shoulders straightened and his eyes darkened as he watched the path that led towards Autumn. His borders were always under threat and the one with Autumn was more contentious than the one with Summer which was famously neutral to conflict. Amid the forest, bursts of vivid red and orange pierced through the greenery, taking the form of deep red tunics and fiery ginger locks.

Tamlim withdrew an arrow from his quiver and notched it in his bow, training his eye on the horizon. Familiar faces emerged from the dark leaves. The sons of Autumn, Beron’s children, raced through the trees. Their rapid footsteps and aggressive shouts did nothing to suggest a friendly visit. Yet, they had not spotted him among the trees. His gifts allowed him to blend within them as seamlessly as the breeze. 

They are chasing each other, Tamlin realized. His heart thumped quickly in his chest as adrenaline prepared him to intervene. He searched for familiar faces amidst the triad of brawling brothers. Eris, Autumn’s heir, and Lucien, its black sheep, were the only two that he knew.

The hair rose on the back of his neck as he saw Lucien’s slender form leaping through the trees, as nimble as a fox. The two others crashed behind him like hulking hippos. 

They were catching up. The border was six miles past them, now. It was likely they'd been running since dawn. 

When Lucien rushed past Tamlin, the High Lord urged his muscular horse onto the path between him and his brothers. 

“Halt!” He commanded, letting his voice deepen into the one gifted by the cauldron. As strong as Beron’s sons were, they could not disobey his orders after venturing onto his lands. Tamlin dismounted and sent his mount back towards the ailing Lucien. 

He held his arrow strong and pointed it directly at the brother in front, whose snarl was so feral that it reminded him of a wolf possessed by Rabies. “Take one more step and I will put an arrow in your spine.” 

His glimmering ash arrow was one of few that he carried. Using it violated Prythian law.  It was a death sentence to any fae. Even now, it burned through his gloves, blistering his fingers. 

 “You wouldn't dare.” The first spat. “Stepping between brothers and their business is bad luck, Lord of Spring. I would have thought you'd learned that lesson.” 

Tomlin flinched. His brothers were a tragedy that he would like to forget. His relationship with them was not much better than what Lucien faced now. 

“That’s High Lord to you.” He hissed. “Do not test me.”

Lucien’s brother could not hold back. His father’s rage propelled him. He raised his sword and swung it towards Tamlin’s chest. 

As quickly as he moved, Tamlin released the arrow. 

It pierced the thin leather armor on his shoulders and punctured the left side of his chest. The brawny fae fell forwards. His face flushed before it fell to a pale, ash white. His body stiffened and he fell to the forest floor. 

Just as he fell, Tamlin strung the second of his arrows, pointing it at the second brother. 

“Get out. Take your corpse with you.” He growled. “Tell your father that if his family tries to solve their disputes in my land again — I will not be so gracious the next time.” 

Silent and serious, the other Autumn faerie strung his brother over his shoulders and left as quickly as he’d come. 

Lucien. 

Tamlin whirled around, finding the younger fae curled in a ball on the moss behind him. It was red and soaked with blood. The skin on his back was a mess of blood and dirt, marred by the imprints of a seven-tailed whip. 

Whatever he’d done — this punishment was pure cruelty. It made Tamlin’s blood boil.

He winced and carefully hoisted the unconscious fae onto the waiting horse, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as they walked back toward the manor. “You’re safe now. I won’t let them near you again.” 

[simpuritysims]

Okay so it turns out that throwing a party with as many people as I invited when the main family is already 12 sims strong was a mistake, my game did not like it and next time I go in I need to end is asap, lmao. But everyone at least got to chat with family and friends!

[thespiritofvexation]

Thåström - Ingen sjunger blues som Jeffrey Lee Pierce (Live at Peace & Love, 2012) [Audio source and video]

I hans trädgård går det två vägar fram Ja, i hans trädgård går det två vägar fram Den ena som en stig, man knappt alls kan se Den andra som en autobahn bred

Och en går till himlen, och en går rakt ner Han undrar vilken av dem han ska med Och kråkorna skriker vad hundarna vet Och äpplena faller som sten

Och ingen sjunger blues som Jeffrey Lee Pierce Nej Ingen sjunger blues som Jeffrey Lee Hans röst skär som en kniv [x2] Ingen sjunger blues som Jeffrey Lee

[skboba-stars]

my geto suguro h/cs I def will add in my redemption/fix-it fic

Geto is biracial - either half Japanese and half Indian (from Udaipur), half Japanese half Filipino, or half Japanese and half Thai.

Geto being transfem and nb, using they/them and she/her pronouns preferably alongside he/him at times when they feel particularly dysphoric.

Them having two names - Suguru meaning 'excellence' and Chaitanya meaning 'intelligence'.

Geto being a religious polytheist and having a small shrine in their dorm room where they pray

They suffer from dulled senses since her parents used to have them get prescribed medications because of their 'hallucinations' and they were pressured to be 'perfect' in other aspects.

She had anorexia and bulimia for the longest time from about 13 to 23.

Geto is the eldest child and they have two younger siblings - a brother and sister. The two of them are much more pampered than her. Their siblings were treated much better than them, but they have a soft spot for them.

Geto's father's side of the family is made up of Hindus and Buddhists, so her father somewhat believed her but ultimately let them get medicated.

They love painting and art as well as reading manga with complex plotlines. It's how they vent.

They learnt how to embed seals into body art and she wears mehndhi all over her arms.

They are the gym girlie and enjoy working out. They got into it because of their family's stress.

Geto has two pet snakes and a pet fat tailed gecko.

They enjoy wearing modernized traditional attire and chunky shoes along with sharp eyeliner. Their piercings are either gold or black.

Geto's best friend is Yaga's daughter and a hijabi girl from Andra Pradesh who they met on a foreign mission. The three of them have 'girl nights' after they found out that most of the female and male students excluded Geto.

Poetry and novels are Geto's guilty pleasure. Some of their favorites are Mahmoud Darwish, Charlotte Bronte, and Yosano Akiko. They also enjoy reading epics.

Geto does MMA and specificallly has a black belt in taekwondo and vigorously practice kalaripattayu and jiujutsu alongside judo. They're a martial arts nerd.

They can absorb cursed energy at touch and warp it with enough energy. They can do this with a honed physicality that they work out to achieve.

Geto is known as one of the most beautiful sorcerers and multiple clans want to know who this mysterious 'strongest' is.

[thearachive]

❝ do i have to spell it out now? ჼ  c-u-n-e-v-e-r. ჼ  baby, put the phone down, ჼ  leave me alone.

╌╌╌╌╌╌ 【 ꜱ ᴘ ᴏ ɴ ꜱ ᴏ ʀ ᴇ ᴅ 】 ╌╌╌╌╌╌

‹ 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒊𝒕 ›

• ❛ SEOLHYUN ❜ @the warehouse sale. ; harness rigged for ebody reborn + juicy rolls, kupra, legacy.

‹ 𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 ›

• ❛ GAME NIGHT ❜ ; decor set with 18 pieces, 5 pictured.

‹ 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒊𝒄 ›

• ❛ AMY PANTIES ❜ @anthem. ; rigged for ebody reborn & legacy.

‹ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ›

• ❛ ENEMY ❜ @celesticat. ; bom eyeshadow for evox, 12 shades.

• ❛ ANDRAS ❜ @unholy. ; gauges rigged for swallow gauged xl & andore human g.

• ❛ GAIA ❜ @snookie. ; unrigged facial piercings, 20 colours.

• ❛ DOJA ❜ @dezzbanks. ; top rigged for ebody reborn + waifu, legacy + perky, kupra, maitreya x.

• ❛ NORMANI ❜ @missblack. ; universal bom tattoos.

• ❛ QUESTIONABLE DRINK❜ @LORE. ; mesh holdable, 10 labels & 10 colours.

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌ 【 ᴄ ʀ ᴇ ᴅ ɪ ᴛ ꜱ 】 ╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

ʻ 𝘨 𝘦 𝘯 𝘦 𝘵 𝘪 𝘤 𝘴

head - ceylon 3.1  @lelutka.

lashes - ‘flutter’ @void.

body - ebody reborn. @reborn store.

hair - ‘brittany’ @usagi society.

ʻ 𝘤 𝘰 𝘴 𝘮 𝘦 𝘵 𝘪 𝘤 𝘴

moles - ‘metronomy kit’ @veltica.

freckles - ‘simple freckle pack’ @okkbye.

blush - ‘imperfections’ @reverie.

ʻ 𝘢 𝘤 𝘤 𝘦 𝘴 𝘴 𝘰 𝘳 𝘪 𝘦 𝘴

nose chain - ‘vela’ @random matter. 

book - ‘assorted books’ @kitcat.

ʻ 𝘴 𝘦 𝘵

set pieces :

desk, monitors, chair - ‘gamer's hell’ @backbone.

icecream - ‘fluffy icecream’ @movement.

mushroom - ‘thicc shroom lamp’ @backbone.

[pinesboi]

i’ve finally come to rest on my character for my BG3 full release playthrough! this is andras, he’s a slut and a bastard and i like him so much.

still waiting on being able to add more piercings/scars/body tattoos, but i like him thus far. ask me about him and i’ll happily rant!!

[ofxrisenxphoenix]

[ rafael l silva | he/him ] Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome GABRIEL SANTOS to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are an 30 year old PHOENIX, who is one of the SURVIVORS but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be REACTIVE, but that’s all a façade to cover up their DEPENDABLE nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to RISE UP by ANDRA DAY, which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world. 

【 ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ 】

Name ; gabriel santos

Sobriquet ; gabe,

Age ; 30

Species ; phoenix

Currently living ; new orleans

Hometown ; san francisco

【 ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ 】

Traits ; dependable, sweet, athletic, reckless

Alignment ; -

Hobbies ; cooking

Habits ; jogging

Fears ; tbd.

【 SEXᴜᴀʟ 】

Orientation ; pansexual

Kinks ; passionate

Hookups or Relationships ; realtionships.

Relationship status ; taken by victor grayson

Shipping status ; taken

【 ᴘʜʏsɪǫᴜᴇ 】

Faceclaim ; rafael l silva

Height ; 6ft 0 in

Hair ; black

Eyes ; dark brown

Piercings ; none

Scars ;

【 ᴇᴅᴜᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ / ᴄᴀʀᴇᴇʀ 】

Level of education ; high school

Qualifications ; high school diploma

Occupation ; sergeant

Name of employer ;NOLA PD

【 ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ 】

Drinker? ; yes

Smoker? ; no

Recreational drug user? ; ex

Which? ; Weed

Disabilities ; none

Mental illnesses ; n/a

【 MUN 】

Name ; adam

Age ; 29

Pronouns ; he/him

Location ; GMT

【 ᴏᴠᴇʀᴠɪᴇᴡ 】