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talesof-old · 1 month

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breaking | j.p.

pairing(s): james potter x gn!reader

warning(s): angst, breakups, leaving long term relationships, implied unfaithfulness (james doesn’t actually cheat), other woman lily evans, reader deserves better, idk this isn’t proofread or edited, they could never make me hate you lily

word count: 1.2k

a/n: sorry this took me so long, i’ve been teaching myself to crochet and i’m also trying to leave my current job

masterlist

james potter + relationship breakup + no happy ending

It used to be easy, saying James Potter was the best boyfriend you’d ever had.

He’d gone out of his way to shower you in affection and prove himself a capable partner. He’d remembered every important date, what your favorite things were, and why you hated the things you hated. James had been perfect.

You leaned back in your chair. Pieces of parchment littered the desktop, ink staining the expensive wood. You’d given up on caring. A glance at the clock on the wall gave you the time.

22:15.

You huffed. Date night, James had said, like that would fix whatever this was.

This, really, was a wedge driven in unknowingly by one Miss Lily Evans. You couldn’t blame her, really. If you’d asked, she would back away from her friendship with James and be perfectly content. That’s what made it so hard to hate her. She liked you, and would do anything to maintain your friendship.

Instead, like a fool, you’d believed James when he said he’d be home early to have dinner with you. After an hour had passed you’d changed out of your nice clothes and into a pair of pajamas, choosing to work to pass the time. About twenty minutes later, you heard the front door open.

In shuffled a weary James, glasses askew and hair messy. Your heart clenched. Here stood the boy (now man) you’d given your heart to years ago. Here he was, breaking it.

“Hey.” Your voice filled the dimly light room, echoing in the bare corners like some evil spirit.

He looked up at you, eyes blinking owlishly as he tugged off his shoes. It took just a second for the image of you to register. His lips twisted into a guilty grimace, though you weren’t sure he was genuinely regretful.

As he approached, you were hit with a wave of floral and ink perfume. You sighed. Lily’s perfume, which she’d found sometime during your time at Hogwarts and stuck to, was far from unfamiliar. It suited her beautifully, though currently it clung to your skin like aa unwanted disease.

“I’m sorry, we got caught up at the pub.” You nodded. The boys night Sirius had proposed. To forget everything going on for one night. Perhaps you should’ve told James just to stay at your friends’ flat tonight instead.

“We had plans.” Your voice wavered, the telltale sign of tears burning your throat. James nodded solemnly. He made to reach for you, but seemed to second guess himself as you shied away.

“I’m sorry, honey, but Pads wanted to stay-“

“Okay.” The finality in your tone had him pausing, brow furrowed. You moved then, gathering up your papers as tears pricked at your eyes. The rational part of you knew that you needed to speak up about your feelings in order to make a change, but you also didn’t feel like you should have to. James made plans with you, his partner; surely that was just as important?

“I’m going to bed.”

Defeat swirled in your gut. Tomorrow, you’d call Mary. If she couldn’t give you advice, she’d at least help you pack up your things.

“Honey, please.” Something desperate filled his tone. You clicked your tongue to distract yourself from the heaviness in your chest. James stepped forward.

“I just lost track of time, promise. I’ll make it up to you.” You shook your head. This was the make up. This was the second chance. Not a single bone in your body wanted to give him a third. It wasn’t fair to expect you to continue to shatter your heart just for him. You cared more about yourself than that to let it continue.

“You already made a promise like that James, don’t lie to me.” Irritation flashed across his face.

“I’m not lying.” You huffed, clutching your papers in your hands. You’d leave the ink. He’d probably need it more than you.

“Merlin, You told me that the last time, James. What else am I supposed to believe?” He ran a hand through his messy curls. “I don’t understand.”

An incredulous expression took up residence on your face. You blinked furiously as you looked at him.

“What don’t you understand? You come home to me after missing an apology dinner, smelling like another woman. Lily Evans no less.” Venom laced itself through the words as you spoke them. His jaw clenched and he crossed his arms. Muscles tensed as he took in the anger in your eyes. You didn’t often get angry, not like this.

“Lily is my friend, I won’t let you make me feel like shit for spending time with her.” You threw your hands up in the air. The clock down the hallway ticked away, eating at you as you turned away from him.

“I never asked that of you, don’t you dare put words in my mouth.” Tears finally spilled over your cheeks. He scoffed.

“At least look at me.”

You whirled around, eyes glassy and lip trembling. Frustration rose. Here you were, crying over the loss of a relationship that hadn’t even ended yet. You swiped at the tear tracks.

“Why? I can’t do this anymore James. I love you, really, but it isn’t fair for me to have to keep asking you to occasionally put me first.” James wore an expressionless look as you spoke. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, an unsteadying drum to your own heartache.

“I do. I don’t understand where this is coming from.” A forlorn feeling took root in your stomach. He didn’t understand. Maybe you were fooling yourself, thinking you could work through this one. After everything, it was too much to bear.

“Alright.” He furrowed his dark brows.

“I’ll ask Mary if she can swing by tomorrow and help me pack up my things.” He startled, reaching for you once more. A sob caught in your throat as he gripped your shoulders. The soft florals of Lily’s perfume engulfed you.

“What? No, what are you talking about?”

Something undecipherable had leaked into James’ words, panicked and shaky as he searched your face. All he found was resignation. You were giving up. James shook his head, licking his lips and leaning down to stare directly into your teary eyes.

“You’re leaving me?”

You let out a breathy laugh, humorless and cold as it curled around your ears.

“You spend more time with Lily than me these days. I won’t fight for someone who isn’t doing the same.” You watched as his face fell. His lips parted as though to speak, but no words fell from his lips. You knew he couldn’t defend himself from the truth; at the very least, he couldn’t defend himself from this truth.

You spoke again. “I love you.”

You pried yourself from his tense grasp and made your way back to the bedroom, locking yourself in the bathroom for privacy. After tomorrow, you’d no longer be in a relationship. James would no longer be your boyfriend, and peace would have to be made. You shared too many friends for the opposite to be an option. You sighed, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes to keep the tears at bay.

When did it all go wrong?

#james potter x you #james fleamont potter #james potter drabble #james potter oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter angst #the marauders #marauders x reader #marauders era #marauders #harry potter x reader #harry potter

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jungle-angel · 3 months

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Silent Strikes The Lightning (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Your husband is a thunder and lightning deity, you yourself sharing the element. The two of you were tasked with protecting young children, a task ordained by the gods and the titans. You just never thought you would have to protect the one thing that meant everything to Rhett

Warnings: Rescue of an infant, Perry being an asshole etc.

Notes: For anybody who wants to, I highly, highly suggest listening to the song "Our Paths Will Part" by Hans Zimmer and also "Lily's Theme" from Harry Potter if you're gonna read this, there's no pressure but both match up really well with the story

Tagging: @floydsmuse @delopsia @sebsxphia @attapullman @callmemana @kmc1989 @bradleybeachbabe @rhettabbotts

You shivered going through those woods to that lonely piece of land that all the Olympians had been watching for months. You squeezed Rhett's hand as he held the lantern in his hand, the two of you cloaked in an unseen veil to be sure no one would see you.

"Shhh, darlin," Rhett whispered when a twig had snapped beneath your foot.

You nodded nervously, afraid to let go of his hand as you approached the shabby dwelling in the distance, the windows still lit. There was a heavy feeling in the air, one you didn't like and one that was particularly strong when you and Rhett went to visit The Underworld. Royal had warned you both, time and again about this place and the people who had lived there.

Perry had been a demigod, one that had been accidentally fathered by Royal when some of his dead, peeling skin had rubbed off on a mortal witch's own hand. Where Perry had been a monster, Rhett was as pure and loving as could be, born of his father, Royal's, love for his mother, Cecelia. Rhett's love for you had been the same, despite a few little demigods here and there, never failing to show you that you were his queen and always would be.

"Rhett we can't, we're...."

"Shhhh, darlin, it's ok," he whispered. "I've got you. I know it's scary, but we need to do this. We're the only chance she's got."

Quietly across the misty fields, you both crept, the chilly air of early spring making the goosebumps on your flesh prick straight up. Rhett made a few flitting gestures with his hand, testing to see if any barriers surrounded that shabby little place. Nothing.

"Alright, c'mon," he whispered again. "Back door."

You and Rhett carefully pushed the back door open, setting the lantern down on the beat up countertop. It took everything in your power to cross the threshold of the door, assured only by the sight of your husband's back.

You silently took deep breaths as you and Rhett cautiously went up the stairs, straining every muscle in your bodies to be as quiet as mice.

"Rhett," you hissed.

"What? Darlin what's wrong?"

"Something......in the back room....."

Rhett could barely make out the form of a woman's foot in the bedroom through the slightly ajar door. Something deep inside told him not to enter, not even if he valued his immortal life.

You both turned back to the room at the end of the hall, a room that was completely bare of furniture, save for a wooden cot in which lay a tiny, newborn infant with a head full of chocolate brown hair, the same as Rhett's. She hardly stirred, all swaddled in her blanket, her pink face scrunched up as she yawned. You and Rhett were in awe of how precious she was, so sweet and so new to this world.

"C'mere Amy," Rhett whispered.

Gently, he picked her up out of her crib, the poor baby starting to whimper as he lifted her to his chest. "Shhhh......shhhhh......it's ok.....it's ok sweet baby.....shhhhh......Daddy and Momma are here.....you're comin home with us......"

From your pocket, you pulled the little purple and gold sachet Cecelia had made for you. It was small, yes, but would hold Amy perfectly. Smaller and smaller she grew as Rhett fitted her snugly into the sachet, resting in it as though she were still in the womb.

"Slip it around you're neck and don't lose it," Rhett told you. "C'mon we've gotta get outta here."

"No one's going anywhere!" sneered a voice.

You and Rhett whirled around to find Perry standing there, his green eyes burning with a hint of ugly yellow. You could feel the hate radiating off him like a fire, cutting deep into you as your hand moved protectively over the sachet around your neck.

"That what ya'll told Rebecca?" Rhett hissed. "Before ya'll sucked the life outta her?"

"Shut up!" Perry snapped. "I loved that woman.......not like you who kept fucking your whore until the gods granted her immortality!"

A loud clap of thunder startled you, your husband's eyes going dark. The hairs on your neck stood up as spider thin flashes showed themselves in his dark blue eyes.

"If you ever call (y/n) a whore again I'll have you fed to every three headed dog in the Underworld," Rhett growled.

"You have no power here....."

Rhett threw up his hand and in a flash, Perry flew up off the ground, slamming into the wall above the door with such a force that a dusting of plaster rained down onto the floor.

"I'm sorry......" Perry croaked. "M'sorry Rhett.....I'm sorry...."

"Perry!" Rhett growled, his voice deep, almost doglike.

"M'sorry.......m'sorry......"

"Don't you fucking say you're sorry to me!" Rhett shouted another clap of thunder echoing throughout the room. "You worthless piece of shit!!"

"Rhett......" you squeaked.

Rhett neither heard nor heeded your words, the thunder and flashes of lightning filling the room with frightening hues of indigo and violet. You could hear Amy crying in the back of your mind, afraid to stay and afraid to run.

Rhett's gaze turned to you, the light still burning in his eyes but his voice calm. "(Y/n) run," he said. "I need ya'll to run, I'll be right behind you."

You didn't want to, freezing a little until a frightening crack of thunder filled the room once again. You hurried out of the room, barely aware of your feet flying across the floors, the electric buzz still on the back of your neck, blindly flying out the door and into the night.

You didn't dare look back, still hearing your husband shouting obscene threats at Perry. The field felt like one long stretch into eternity, never ending and going on and on and on until the woods came into view. You bolted up the path, hurrying and protectively holding onto the sachet for dear life, afraid that some fell beast of the woods would try to grab it.

You skidded to a halt, gasping when you came to the cliff, staring down into the huge maw below. You tried to steady your hammering heart, the blood rushing in your ears as you stared down over the edge, the thin little ribbon of silver river the only thing visible in the darkness.

"Darlin jump!" Rhett shouted behind you. "Jump!"

"I can't!" you hollered back, the tears streaming down your face.

"Then you're gonna have to trust me."

You felt a set of strong hands on your shoulder, pushing you over the cliff edge, your screams echoing in the canyon below. The wind rushed by you, through your hair and the threads of your clothes when something suddenly came up underneath you, something sturdy but soft.

You dreaded opening your eyes but when you did, you saw brilliant golden brown feathers, a mighty screech reaching your ears.

The eagles.

You breathed a deep sigh of relief, knowing you were safe. You looked behind you to find Rhett on the one below, looking up at you, the victory and relief evident on his face.

Off in the distance you could see the sun beginning to rise, the hues of yellow, rose pink and red all rising to greet you both. Yours and Rhett's clothing changed from denim to brilliant togas of dark navy blue, white, gold and soft lilac as the sun began to touch your skin.

There it was in the distance, Mount Olympus, rising high into the gorgeous morning light and all the life with it. Home again you were, safe and out of danger.

The eagles landed you right in the courtyard near the waterfalls. You saw Cecelia in her dark teal toga and Royal, both running towards you, the sickle at his belt, sheathed, but always ready.

"You two ok?" he asked.

"We're ok Dad," Rhett answered, helping you off the back of the eagle. "We're good."

"Where is he?" Royal asked.

"Still in that house," you answered.

"I'll have the animals watch the place and report back," Royal told him. "You manage to get what ya'll went in for?"

"Got her out safe," Rhett answered.

Royal drew his son into a tight embrace. "Glad ya'll are safe," Royal said. "I'll catch the little shithead one of these days. You two go and rest now, your mother and I will take care of the rest."

You and Rhett were more than overjoyed to have Amy as a part of your family in the days after, taking her in as though she were born of your flesh and blood. You and Rhett watched her grow and never more had you and your family felt so complete and so whole, even on the days when her mischievous streak showed, the giggly little girl in her bright pink toga running through the fields to chase after the herd of magic cows that soon became hers. And ever after when Rhett sent a thunderstorm to water the fields below, Amy was sure to run after with the light of a rainbow trailing behind her in the sun.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #royal abbott #cecelia abbott #royal and cecelia abbott #amy abbott #outer range #outer range greek mythology au

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mybworlds · 3 months

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Chapter 10: Into the depths

Pairing: The Hound x Sansa Stark

Summary: Arya, Sandor and Sandor continue their journey. Arya and Sansa keep arguing, while Sandor notices how different the two sisters are from each other.

Chapter Warnings: language, violence

Masterlist

Before to start... thank you to follow me, if you want to be tagged in the next chapters, please let me know! if you want to ask me smt, you can write down here or you can inbox me. Please remember English is not my first language. And in this chapter you can read about the scene between Arya and the Hound in the 8th episode of the third season of Game of Thrones.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

"You're a bloody old hick!" cried Arya.

"One more word and I'll make you eat that tongue!" barked the Hound angrily.

"You're a murderer, you're … so horrible that even Hell doesn't want you!" resumed Arya.

Arya and the Hound had done nothing but quarrel since they had left the Whispering Wood, Sansa in contrast had become tremendously taciturn. Sansa sighed from time to time and prayed that she might be able to save her mother and brother lives.

"Say something to this-this filthy worm!" hissed Arya, turning for the first time to her sister in the hope of finding support, but Sansa-who sat on Stranger-only gave her a long, stern look. Arya seemed to see her mother's reproachful gaze and lowered her gaze, finally becoming silent.

"Seven cursed Hells be thanked!" blurted out the Hound, and Sansa smiled.

However, Arya's verbal - and then physical - confrontations toward Sandor Clegane continued so that he finally blurted out in exasperation, "Next time you try to hit me, I'll tie your hands behind your back. Next time you try to run away, I'll tie your feet. Scream, screech, try to bite me, and I'll put a gag on you. We can ride together, or I can slam you sideways into the saddle like a slaughter sow. The choice is yours."

Sansa turned a glance toward her sister; she wanted to silently tell her to stop acting like a wild horse, but her sister mimicked an obscene epithet with her lips that made her blush violently.

The two sisters stood together, but each ignored the other: Sansa watched the fire crackle and felt tremendously alone. Arya stood aside in a tree with her legs dangling.

The Hound was watching the scene and for some strange reason, he felt almost obliged to approach the little bird who had a tremendously sad expression painted on her face.

"Your sister is not easy," he said as he approached her.

"Yeah. She always has been in truth, but since she has been completely alone she has gotten worse. She's aggressive, always furious, always … looking for something."

"Revenge." completed for her Sandor "She in a way reminds me of me, angry and always wanting to avenge the wrongs she has suffered."

"Yes, but she takes it out on me for everything. Even if it rains! I am the cause of his every misfortune, maybe I was wrong to take Joffrey's side, but … I thought doing so was the right thing." she tried to justify herself "Arya will never forgive me."

"Maybe." he said, "Or maybe time a moon or two and she'll laugh about it."

"Arya? You don't know her." contradicted him Sansa "Besides, she hates that I take your side, she says you're … a murderer."

"But I am," he agreed.

Sansa looked at him "I know who you are, but I also believe there is good in you."

Sandor looked at the red-haired girl "You're too good, you only see what you want to see." he shook his head and for a moment looked at the flames "But there is nothing in me but death and destruction. Those four pricks in that cave reminded me of that."

She looked at him in amazement "So the words of Beric Dondarrion and Thoros were enough for you to believe this again!"

"I am that! Only death and destruction for Sandor Clegane."

"I don't believe that! I mean look at what you are doing for me and for Arya! Isn't what you are doing a commendable act?"

"I'm doing it for money, not for the fucking desire to travel, sleep in the open, and piss wherever!" barked the Hound.

Sansa swallowed as she looked away: she didn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it.

In truth, he did not believe it himself, but he said it in a tone that was particularly convincing that the eldest of the Starks desisted from further words on the subject.

Sandor did not sleep that night: he watched over the two Stark sisters. The youngest went to sleep away from the fire and hid behind a bush; when Sandor went to check on her she addressed him with an epithet worthy of Flea Bottom. The eldest, the one who had entrusted herself totally to him, curled up not far from the fire and fell asleep shortly after telling him, "I trust you."

Why was that sweet little girl constantly reminding him how much trust she placed in him?

What did she really want from him?

But had she really seen his face?

Didn't she know that he is a murderer, a monster?

But what expectations?

Yet she persisted in seeing that tiny, invisible part of him that she called "good."

The Hound thought he would do anything for her, but especially not to disappoint her expectations.

If Stark was under the illusion that those pretty little words she liked so much were enough to turn him into a prince or a lord, she had completely mistaken the person!

He was a free man whose goal was to bring a person home in exchange for money, period. What could have been praiseworthy or good about that?

Nothing, he answered himself.

But then why did he feel that those words about making that trip for money suddenly rang false to him?

With that question in his mind, he slowly slipped into a sleep tormented by the heat of the fire and the burning of flesh, of his flesh.

At the first light of dawn the first to awaken was Arya who would have very, very much wanted to strike and kill that monster, but she saw with horror that instead the monster had fallen asleep within a stone's throw of her sister; she approached Sansa who was sleeping with her lips parted and her arms abandoned near the now extinguished fire and roused her.

"Wha - ?" she made to ask Sansa, but Arya clamped her mouth shut.

"Let's go away." she mimicked with her lips so that the Hound would not hear her.

Sansa shook her head and stood there, still.

Arya took her sister's hand "Do it for our family." she told her in a whisper.

"He," Sansa said, pointing to Sandor, "is taking us to our mother and brother."

Arya shook her head "It's a deception. He wants to sell us. I heard that."

Sansa thought perhaps her sister had a point, but something made her trust the man as strong as he was uncouth, and so she did not move.

"You are so stupid," Arya scolded her.

"He is our best protection," Sansa reminded her.

Arya cursed her sister and went off to train somewhere.

Sansa was now awake, the Hound was still resting, so she told herself it might be best to freshen up: she walked over to the river and gently bathed her feet. The water was cold, but Sansa found it most pleasant. She closed her eyes and prayed that they might make it in time to get the rest of her family to safety, that Arya might love her again, and that the Hound might find some serenity.

Praying to the gods, she took off what was left of her dress and carefully observed that the scratches and bruises from that horrendous episode in the woods were almost completely gone, then she entered the water and felt a sense of well-being, wet her hair and sang a dirge that her mother used to sing to her when she was a child.

When the Hound opened his eyes Arya and Sansa Stark had disappeared, he got up suddenly and drew his sword, where on earth had they gone?

Had someone kidnapped them?

But as he wondered this, he barely got into the grove and saw that little demon Arya Stark prancing and moving like a Braavos dancer.

He approached her, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Practicing." she replied concentrating and resuming moving her little sword and doing a little somersault in the air shortly after.

"In what? Ways to dying?" he asked, mocking her.

"No one's gonna kill me," she replied confidently.

"They will if you dance around like that. That's no way to fight."

"It's not fighting," she explained to him, "it's water dancing."

"Dancing"? Maybe you ought to put on a dress. Who taught you that shite?" he laughed.

"The greatest swordsman who ever lived: Syrio Forel, the First Sword to the Sealord of Braavos."

He spat upon seeing that kind of dance "And where is he now?"

"He's dead."

"And who killed him?"

"Meryn Trant."

"The greatest swordsman who ever lived, killed by Meryn fucking Trant? Any boy whore with a sword could beat three Meryn Trants."

"Syrio didn't HAVE a sword! OR armor!" she screamed.

"The greatest swordsman who ever lived didn't have a sword?" he laughed again "All right, you have a sword. Let's see what he taught you."

Arya twirled the little sword and struck the Hound, but his armor was too thick and Arya's sword too blunt to really do any damage, and so the only result was that the little girl's weapon barely grazed Sandor's armor, who, tired of the little Stark's words and gestures, struck her and reminded her that it was useless to try to hurt him or send him to Hell: he was the only chance to try to get to the Twin Towers before his uncle's wedding.

Then he turned away to go look for the other one, the little bird.

As he thought about where she might be hiding, he heard an angelic voice singing a sweet song, a song he did not know, and he slowly approached and saw her in the river. He should have immediately retraced his steps, but the backward vision of that little body stopped him in his tracks, her small back, the curve of her buttocks half disappearing between the waters of the stream and her arms washing over her paralyzed him.

He felt as if gripped by a force that even he could not defeat, even if he wanted to.

His heart began to beat strangely and differently in his chest….

A noise roused him from those thoughts that were taking on sinful overtones, and then, not to be caught looking at Sansa, he shouted looking the other way, "STARK!"

Sansa winced and covered her breasts bringing her arms to her chest and lowering herself just to cover her buttocks, how long had the Hound been there?

"Wait, please don't turn around," she shouted to be heard and having said these words she stepped out and covered herself wearing that little dress-once so beautiful and precious-now tiny.

The dress adhered to her figure leaving little to the imagination of others.

When she reached the man, he took a long look at her and she felt … strange.

"You're cold." he told her in an almost amused tone.

"I'm not." she asserted, but she was lying.

Sandor observed her body noticing her nipples turgid from the cold "Your body says otherwise."

Sansa looked at herself, then blushed and replied by telling him, "Don't look at me!"

"It's impossible not to, little bird," he bounced her, smiling wryly.

"Well, do it!" she ordered him, "From today, please don't look at my body anymore. You make me uncomfortable!" he added.

And it was true, every time Sandor looked at her, even a handful of seconds longer, it made her feel uncomfortable, something she could not even define, but it started from inside, from the center of her body and made her feel … incredibly strange and nervous.

Sandor smiled, grotesquely, but he smiled.

How long he had not been smiling he could not even remember!

With that little girl by his side, however, everything was easy for him, even smiling at those nervously charged words from her.

A few moments later Arya caught up with them, but she did not greet her sister nor did she have any kind words; on the contrary, she reprimanded her, telling her that with that dress on she looked like a whore. Sansa lowered her head deeply humiliated, perhaps that was why the Hound was smiling?

Because she looked ridiculous?

"Stop that right now, little girl!" scolded Sandor.

He hated that little girl by his side, hated how she posed, but especially how she spoke to her sister. Agreed, he was not the man who could make judgments about sibling relationships, but hating a sister for a damn wolf and some unspoken words in her defense seemed too much even for someone like him.

"What do you do otherwise? Draw your sword and kill me like Mycah?" the younger one taunted him.

Sandor shook his head and set Sansa on Stranger.

Arya looked at that scene and a strange sense of foreboding came over her.

"What did you really do to her, monster?" she asked him.

Sansa and Sandor looked at her for a long time.

"My sister is a fool and it must have only taken two little motions for her to believe who knows what! What did you promise her? A castle, that you'll get her a prince and in the meantime she can bang you?"

"ARYA!" shouted Sansa, the girl somewhat clumsily got off her horse and hit her sister with all the strength she had causing her to fall backward "Talk to me like that again and I'll have you left here."

None of the three spoke again for the next few hours: Sansa was wounded, deeply wounded in her soul; Arya was disgusted by her sister's attitude of total trust in the murderer who was escorting her - according to Sansa - home; Sandor was astonished at how the former had struck her sister, but Arya had brought it on herself!

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kay-elle-cee · 6 months

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Favourite passage you've ever written? A hunk of writing that makes you go FUCK YEAH I WROTE THAT or that you read back and got minor whiplash from (because FUCK YEAH YOU WROTE THAT).

Ooof, I haven't been keeping up with plucking out passages I like like I planned on doing....but unsurprisingly, I have to pick something from i'll be fine, i'll be good. The final scene of chapter four, in particular, I've grown to really love (even if at first I was a little unsure about it). However, the passage I'm choosing comes right before that.

Lily feels the familiar prick of tears in the back of her eyes, recognizing she’s on the precipice of all or nothing. Mind swimming with the mixed voices of ‘lay low, my dear’, ‘Lily, I love you’, ‘filthy little Mudblood’ and sweet lemon and spicy woods, and James, James, James, she feels the sob in her throat and swallows it down, dragging her fingers through curls of black hair as teeth nip at her collarbone and take all thoughts of all or nothing away. If she’s going to topple over the edge, she’ll enjoy the feeling of freefall and face what lies at the bottom tomorrow.

Thank you, Bella!

#asked and answered #uncertainwallflower

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indecentpause · 9 months

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White Rabbit: Soundtrack

content warnings in the tags are only for the moodboard and playlist on this post specifically. please read the warnings at the link!

melanie martinez - dollhouse //placebo - black-eyed // fall out boy - i don't care // amanda palmer - creep // k.flay - brain stew // dessa - matches to paper dolls // neon jungle - take me to church // sia - breathe me // the dresden dolls - girl anachronism // jack off jill - strawberry gashes // felix hagan & the family - delirium tremendous // k.flay - blood in the cut // billie eilish - bad guy // kailee morgue - black sheep // queenadreena - sleepwalking // rasputina - gingerbread coffin // black foxes - badlands // bastille - weigh of living pt 1 // ms mr - bones // bastille - flaws // the national - sorrow // nothing but thieves - graveyard whistling // lily wood and the prick feat. robin schulz - prayer in c (robin schulz radio edit)

listen on spotify here!

read the completed work here on ao3

or here on wattpad!

one last tag for the White Rabbit readers!

@abalonetea @only-book-lovers-left-alive @poore-choice-of-words @leadhelmetcosmonaut @jasperygrace @drippingmoon @thelaughingstag @athenswrites @kaiusvnoir @magic-is-something-we-create @idreamonpaper @wip-nook @papercutsunset @winterandwords

#writeblr #music #playlist #soundtrack #spotify #moodboard #ao3 #wattpad #my writing #original fiction #contemporary fiction #cw: drugs #cw: blood #cw: self harm #cw: self injury

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wellwhatisnttaken · 5 months

Text

Review

Nothing Left (but some blood where the bodies fell) by orphan_account

Link : https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027170

Major Spoilers under the cut.

Ok. This series is my ATYD. Maybe that’s controversial, but its the truth. Nothing Left is a series that chronicles the marauders years at hogwarts complete with a prologue, and a few epilogues after the main series. The final word count clocks in at 808,811 words. For reference, atyd is 526,969 words. So it’s definitely really freaking long.

Now -the characters

The core four marauders are there obviously, but Lily, Regulus, the girls, Effie and Fleamont, as well as some OCs are all major players in this fic. It is not solely the four marauders.

It’s important to note that in fics, that are long and chronicle the marauders at Hogwarts, sometimes they can fall into the trap of isolation. As in, marauders interactions with others outside the circle are limited/nil and or when they do interact with others or explore other friendships, theyre all together. Thats not the case here. James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus ARE quite codependent (sirius and james are the definition of co dependent lmao) but they are friends with other people and have different dynamics and personal struggles. They exist outside of each other is what im getting at.

I couldn’t begin to fully summarize all of the friendship dynamics in this fic because they’re so big and fleshed out but id like to highlight a few that i especially liked :

Lily and Remus. Remus is the first marauder that Lily warms up to, and the first she befriends. She tells him she loves him, and goes to bat against everyone, even Snape, for him. Snape is perhaps Lily’s biggest foil in-terms of relationships, and the fact that from the BEGINNING she threatened to hurt and even kill Severus if he hurt Remus, to me says alot. Lily and Remus are platonic soulmates. They confide in each other, challenge each other, and love and trust each other. I love their friendship in this fic

James and Sirius. OBVIOUSLY! They are insane. When i say they bring out the worst in each other i mean it. They both make the other more insane. But they couldn’t live without one another and its clear from the moment they met. Sirius and James are complicated. They kiss and sleep in each others beds, and at times it seems like they want to crawl into one another’s skin. They are the definition of co dependent. They have ups and downs and after the prank, they both fell apart. James was beyond furious at Sirius and stayed that way for months even after Remus had forgiven him. It tore them up, and they both fell into a deep depression and identity crisis with out the other and it was really heartbreaking to read. I love them tho.

Eli Wood and James. Idk if eli is canon? Either way. Eli is the first quidditch captain that James has at Hogwarts. And in alot of ways Eli serves as the backbone of James’s character. James absolutely worships Eli from the moment they meet. And after he graduates, Ei becomes an Auror. With James’s mom and dad working in and with the DMLE james happens to be there after a raid by the aurors gone wrong. James watches Eli’s dead body collapse on the floor of st mungos after being apparated back. This is the moment that shapes him. James carries Elis memory with him into adulthood, and never quite gets over him romantically. Eli is the raw side of James’s bleeding heart and i think it was beautiful.

Ok i have to talk about Lily. This lily is not canon lily and thats what i love about her. From day one, with her massive ginger curls, Lily is a spitfire. She values friendship and trust and loyalty, which is why she stays with Severus for so long. Lily is loud and academic and a bit of a bitch but shes 11 when we meet her. Who isnt a prick at 11 years old?? Lily is naturally wound so tight that its only when she starts to Really hang out with the marauders, do her walls come down and she relaxes. Lily deals woth so much blood purity racism, and i loved reading her struggle with it, as she tries to decide between forgiveness or revenge, kindness or remembering the crime. Her Arc with Snape is huge and involves blood racism.

This Lily likes crystals and fags (this word is used ALOT for cigarettes, like so much) and the beatles, and she is NOT James potters little wife and she is not something to be fought over. She gets tattoos and does coke with Sirius, and fights bullies and absolutely drags James Potter over the rocks. And i love her.

Ok this is getting really long so a bulleted list of things i liked!

- James and Professor McG. She cares for him like a second mother and i teared up reading them

- Remus and the big bad lycanthropy. Remus struggles alot in this fic, and theres alot of aspects to it but i will say i appreciated how the author included him using a crutch and having limited mobility. I thought that was very realistic.

- effie and fleamont. They were very 3 dimensional and their love for James and Sirius was tangible. I sobbed when they died. I liked how James had his struggles with them and they weren’t just plot perfect parents. They struggled but they TRIED. They loved much and were loved much

Regulus. He is an older sister in a 15 year olds body. The trauma he endures is crazy. Not only does he get punished (tortured) by his parents, Sirius does as well, and Sirius begs him to take away his memory, so now regulus carries the burden alone. His whole arc was heartbreaking but it came around on the end.

Ok im done for now. This was a massive fic and i wish i knew who the author was. But i highly recommend it.

#marauders era #fic rec #fic reviews #jily fic #wolfstar #dead gay wizards

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elettralightwood · 2 years

Text

THIRD EPISODE OF THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS HUNGER GAMES ✨

🎤I saw some of you were rooting for Cat, better choose another contestant now ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night 2

•Maia lets Jonathan into her shelter.

As if he didn’t kill your ex boyfriend in front of you ig

•Ragnor passes out from exhaustion.

•Magnus receives medical supplies from an unknown sponsor.

Again, i’m the uknown sponsor

•Asmodeus tends to Hodge's wounds.

Ummmm

•Meliorn and Lilith fight Clary and Maryse. Meliorn and Lilith survive.

Guess she couldn’t defeat her this time

•Lily receives fresh food from an unknown sponsor.

•Jocelyn convinces Jace to snuggle with her.

( ͡ಠ ʖ̯ ͡ಠ) ( ͡ಠ ʖ̯ ͡ಠ) ( ͡ಠ ʖ̯ ͡ಠ)

•Izzy screams for help.

•Valentine goes to sleep.

•Camille quietly hums.

•Simon tends to his wounds.

•Max is awoken by nightmares.

Ow :(((

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DAY 3

•Maia shoots a poisonous blow dart into Meliorn's neck, slowly killing him.

•Jace questions his sanity.

I mean same

•Magnus tries to spear fish with a trident.

•Asmodeus is pricked by thorns while picking berries.

•Jonathan and Simon collect fruit from a tree.

•Lily makes a wooden spear.

•Jocelyn defeats Lilith in a fight, but spares her lfe.

Why tho

•Izzy and Ragnor split up to search for resources.

•Valentine tends to Hodge's wounds.

New ship just sailed

•Camille discovers a cave.

•Max dies from hypothermia.

It definetely was not a good day for Max

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FALLEN TRIBUTES OF THE DAY

Clary - Maryse - Meliorn - Max

🎤So there were sone surprises today, but don’t forget to come back tomorrow ! Who knows, maybe someone else will snuggle ;)

@carelessflower @gayforcarstairsgirls @totalbookmaniac @thestarkster1465 @priorities-as-straight-as-alec @roseblxshvision @screaming-fighting @vierss-herondale @kit-rooks-abs @sociallyineptbibliophile @alec-not-alright-wood @chaotic-coexistence @tea-and-a-clandestine-agenda @thedamnephilimfangirl

#tsc #shadowhunters #the shadowhunters chronicles #tmi #the mortal instruments #fandom hunger games #hunger games

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ashen-crest · 2 years

Text

things Eli has called Ambrose thus far in the book:

- self-centered prick

- asshole

- waify iceberg (courtesy of his sister Lily)

- son of a wood-eating dragon

- stick figure of a man

- elf-shaped chunk of ice

#a rival most vial #eli valenz #ambrose beake

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apoptoses · 1 year

Note

(1/2) hi, so branching off of a question you answered about specific details where you mentioned knowing the scents Armand would have Daniel wearing/15th century scents being your specialty etc.: fragrances are such an obsession of mine (esp. learning more abt historical fragrances) and i would Love to hear you talk more on that subject and about those aforementioned analogous modern products 👀

(2/2) when i first read the detail about how Armand had Daniel wearing a frankincense-clove-cinnamon blend and how it melded with his usual cig smoke aroma i thought ahh man what an atmospheric gift this is. i also immediately wanted to know if there's a real world frag that you had in mind when writing that or if i'm just going to have to be insane and make my own Daniel blend to sniff haha

So when it comes to 15th/16th century perfume there's a couple things going on that's important: ambergris and civet musk. These are the base notes of so many perfumes from the time. Ambergris comes from sperm whales and while still legal to use, it just doesn't get put in perfume anymore. Civet musk was straight up banned in the 90s.

Which means whatever modern perfume you get, it's not going to smell 'right'. Synthetic musk smells nothing like the real thing. But when Daniel and Armand were first together the real stuff was still being used so high quality perfume that matched historical scents would have been around.

As far as other notes go, there's two main categories: herbs/florals, and woods/spices/resins.

For herbs and florals you see a lot of lavendar, rose, chamomile, rosemary, sage, elderflower, jasmine, carnations, lily, juniper, orange blossom, and saffron.

For woods, resins, and spices you see a lot of sandalwood, agarwood, benzoin, cinnamon bark, cloves, frankincense and mastic resin.

They would be formulated in either a water base or an oil base. Rosewater and olive oil were common. And you either go for a spicy scent or a heavily floral scent.

SO. FOR MODERN PERFUMES.

The scent I described Daniel wearing is based on a real 15th century Venetian perfume called Olio di Gugliemo Piacentino. I don't know of a modern perfume that smells the same- in my head, Armand had it custom blended for him (because of course he would).

Number 1: You want to go for eau d'parfum. Most expensive, yes, but this is the strongest smells and won't be diluted with synthetic stuff that changes the scent profile. If you can get online and get an antique bottle that isn't gone sour, it'll be even more similar to renaissance scents.

Number 2: I suggest sticking to scents where the name includes or even hints at the scent profile itself. I just have more luck finding stuff that doesn't smell synthetic that way.

Number 3: Obviously these perfumes are insanely high priced. Sniff them, find one you like, then google a good dupe and go sniff that if you want to buy and wear it yourself. It won't wear the same but it'll be similar and not $500+

The two perfume houses I'd start with are Tom Ford and Clive Christian. Some specific scents are: Oud Wood (Tom Ford, woody/ spicy), Rose Prick (Tom ford, floral/roses), Jasmin Rouge (Tom Ford floral/amber), Amber Fougere (Clive Christian, resin/amber), 1872 Masculine (Clive Christian, floral/herbal/woody).

You can also find people doing recreations on Etsy (ymmv) and you can find the recipes to makes it yourself but the components are super expensive.

Another cheap way to dupe a scent profile from a historical recipe book is to get matching essential oils, put a couple drops into a carrier oil like olive oil, and then wear that.

I hope that answers your question ♥

#apoptoses answers

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bloomgrove · 1 year

Text

PT. I, II // DRIFTING AMONGST LILIES Caduceus' life in the Blooming Grove until he was found.

Remember what mom and dad said to us before they left, Caduceus.

+*. ` { his sister, Calliope, tucks the loose curls of his pink bob cut behind his ears as she offers a kiss to his forehead, moving the wispy fringe of hair there too. unconsciously he reaches for the braid he’d made between the waves once their bodies parted from their warm embrace. and he watches as another member of the Clay family gets on the back of a farmhand’s hay cart and disappears into the Savalirwood.

the twisted bark of the row of dark trees making up the entrance to the Blooming Grove stands tall and ever present and leering at his figure. his finger twirling the braid in his hair and twirling strands as Caduceus found himself looking into the foggy abyss of the first morning he found himself alone in the Blooming Grove.

“ tend to the garden, to the graves and our mother’s statue. ” he recited to nobody. that’s what his mother and father said. his aunt Corrin had told him something entirely different, however, amidst the farewells.

You must leave our home last. Everything will fall into place after that.

if his aunt only knew the eventual dilapidation of their home would she have told him to run into the cursed woods to save himself from the madness to come? of course it’s hard to know an answer when no one returned. but before he could take note and come to terms that his family may have found their burials elsewhere, Caduceus got to work.

the instructions were simple. he and his siblings had done what was asked of them prior to their dwindling numbers and he’d done everything on the list by himself before. a routine that sent him on autopilot each morning after making his bed and turning on the kettle.

Caduceus lived in the mundane and he didn’t mind it.

the first night was still if not a little quiet now that Calliope’s usual rummaging through the outdoor shed and their father’s workshop wasn’t present. he’d almost forgotten he was completely alone until his memory reminded him of the circumstances. there was a peace to the stillness and near silence all around. the fireflies and crickets were his company along with the occasional frog that croaked and hopped across the pond and its lily pads.

over the course of his solitary life it was the sunlight peeking through his windows greeting him in the morning instead of Clarabelle throwing herself upon the sheets and rolling along the mattress. how the bed was made easily too without her tugging playfully at the linen.

Colton was absent from taking the most time in the water closet shaving his beard and Calliope’s voice was missing from insisting for their eldest sibling to hurry up. the kitchen held no sign of his mother, father or aunt Corrin. all of the noise that had been a part of his life only now, now that he was completely at the mercy of nothing is when he notices just how big the cottage had always been.

but with no one to distract him he just goes to work like he’d been asked to. rain or shine he was there. through the sunniest days and stormiest nights. tending to the garden, to the graves and the Wildmother’s statue. and he prayed.

when torrential downpour and strong winds blew away his father’s hat from his head and pricked at the skin beneath his fur he stayed. knee dip in mud in his hiked up skirts. earth staining his bloomers brown and green. the only armour at his disposal an apron and his favourite sweater. Calliope had mentioned she’d left him protection but things weren’t bad yet. not yet. he had to tend to the garden, to the graves and the Wildmother’s statue. and he prayed.

Caduceus found himself sleeping in the greenhouse, thankful for the cot that his mother had put in there a long time ago. he felt that his way he was closer to the garden and with ready tools. until one day the glass roof shattered above him and thick, dark branches covered in the sharpest thorns decided to make his safehouse its abode. ceramics lost to the assault. plants and tools scattered across stone.

but even then, even after clearing the mess he went to tend to the garden, to the graves and the Wildmother’s statue. and his hair had grown so long.

the morning felt uninviting and cold. his chest felt as if those terrible vines made of black and thorn were beneath his flesh, coiling themselves along his rib cage. he began shivering as soon as he stumbled out of bed, feeling around in the dimly lit halls of the Clay cottage until he found his way into the kitchen and with full awareness this time he began to boil water.

teeth chattering in the chilly air he wondered why it was so cold. and that’s when he saw it — the open window he had forgotten to close from yesterday’s exhaustion. quickly he closed it shut and drew the blinds together.

eager to get out of the still damp dress and apron he had on from trudging through the mud yesterday. how could he have been so careless? his mother would reprimand him for nearly getting sick! and with muddy boots too? his bed was probably covered in dirt and grime.

but first order of business; he had to find some gloves.

fingerless as they were, they’ll have to do and Colton would just have to deal with him borrowing a pair when he gets home. if he ever comes home, oh… Colton. Clarabelle… he didn’t want to think about bad things.

“ oh wow. ” his hair had grown that much. well, it’s probably time he made himself look presentable in case of any visitors. he still had hope for that. for someone, anyone to go through the rusted gates.

pulling out the drawer in the water closet Caduceus picked up the trimming shears he and Calliope often shared though he had never cut his own hair. the credit all went to his sister but surely, a little trim won’t hurt.

looking into the mirror, he cut away at the first set of strands and once he’d gained enough confidence he proceeded to do away with the rest. to his fault he let his mind wander, thinking that for someone with as thick a bundle of hair that bringing the length back to his usual bob would take some time.

he just hadn’t expected that with his hope and imagination that someone would surely visit soon and the conversations that he would have with someone can quickly lead to such a disastrous outcome. his breath catches. hands dropping the blade and coming upon rosy tinted lips. he’d cut too much. he’d cut past his ears. the heirloom earring his mother bestowed onto him already peeking through the remaining strands.

Caduceus looked into the mirror, leaned forward even and moved his head side to side to perceive if he was seeing things correctly. and unfortunately he really was. “ oh… oh! ” dainty fingers would run through far too short ruined locks, tears gathering at his eyes. he’s tugging at his hair, hoping that by some miracle it’d all grow back. oh no. oh no, oh no, oh no!

then his eyes catch it. there in the sink among the now fallen pink locks that once belonged to him was the braid he’d rewarded himself with after a day’s hard work yesterday. he picks it up and grasps it in his palm and looks back up at himself in the mirror.

it was so hard. not knowing if anyone would ever come back for him. not knowing if anyone would ever come to the grove. being alone was so hard. cutting hair by yourself is so hard! but the reflection doesn’t say anything. there would be no tending to the garden, or the graves, and he wouldn’t dare present himself to the Wildmother’s statue like this. so he does what’s left to do.

Caduceus screams as the kettle downstairs did too.

#a long one but oof i couldn't stop writing this one!#also hello trans caduceus #+*. stories `

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