
stars stuck all over.
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" That's All Rather Subjective, Hm? " He Takes No Offense, It's Clear In His Unwavering Expression Still
" that's all rather subjective, hm? " he takes no offense, it's clear in his unwavering expression â still cold, though his shrug is relaxed. much worse has been whispered about him amongst other fae: a monster crafted from nightmares. he has been painted as the villain for as long as he can remember. the last choice he made of his own, to keep his court standing. " a high lord doesn't get the pleasure of doing what he wishes. disappointingly so. "
@rhysie said, â you don't need a moral and noble story to do what you want. â

"no, i suppose you don't. that's how villains exist." she doesn't look at him when she says this. instead, thin fingers pick at a piece of lint on the sleeve of her dress. "are you a villain in someone's story?" the words are out of her mouth before she can think better of them. at least she has the decency to look embarrassed. watchful eyes assess him. "you look like the sort of person who does what they want. i have a feeling things usually go in your favor. am i wrong or did i misjudge you?"
prompt here
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song of achilles rp starters
by madeline miller. i altered some quotes so they fit better  âĄ
â  i saw then how i had changed. â â  name one hero who was happy â you canât.  â â  i feel like i could eat the world raw.  â â  you are half my soul, as the poets say.  â â  i have no need to forgive you. you cannot offend me.  â â  i do not fear ridicule. i never have.  â â  you have always trusted so easily; you have had so little in your life to fear or suspect.  â â  do you hear me? please, say something.  â â  your face is like quicksilver, always racing to something new. you unsettle me.  â â  you do not give things up so easily now as you once did.  â â  now i know how to make you follow me everywhere.  â â  i would know your face in dark or disguise. i would know it even in madness. â â  there is no law that gods must be fair.  â â  i have never seen anyone fight the way you do.  â â  our dead come for their vengeance regardless of witnesses.  â â  the sorrow was so large it threatened to tear through my skin.  â â  when you die, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with you.  â â  you were always better with words than i.  â â  i will never leave you. it will be this, always, for as long as you will let me.  â â  you smile, and your face is like the sun.  â â  i thought you were â something. you do not â you do not move like a human. â â  do you want to walk up to the woods? â â  you canât be very wounded if you can stand for so long.  â â  there are no bargains between lion and men. i will kill you and eat you raw.  â â  we are like gods at the dawning of the world.  â â  nothing could eclipse the stain of this dirty, mortal mediocrity.  â â  i yearn for the darkness and silence of the underworld, where i can rest.  â â  those seconds, half seconds, that the line of our gaze connected, were the only moment in my day that i felt anything at all.  â â you seem utterly unaware of your effect on the people around you.  â â  it was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. it was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came.  â â  you are a weapon, a killer. do not forget it.  â â i have heard that men who live by a waterfall cease to hear it â in such a way did i learn to live beside the rushing torrent of my doom.  â â  if you have to go, you know i will go with you.  â â  there is no one like you.  â â we have given each other wounds, but they are not mortal.  â â  and perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. â â  who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? it is enough to watch you win. â â do not let what you have gained this day be so easily lost.  â â  you have killed them and taken your vengeance. it is enough. â â  no man is worth more than another, wherever he is from.  â â  strange that such a small kindness feels like grace.  â â  you can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.  â â  i cannot bear to see you grieving.  â â i remember little more than scattered images from my life then.  â â  i would recognize you by touch alone, by smell; i would know you blind, by the way your breaths came and your feet struck the earth. i would know you in death, at the end of the world.  â â  i see a dozen men here ready to leap on each otherâs throats.  â â  in my land a bow is marked as the weapon of cowards.  â â  you may still make a good person.  â â  you donât bother to threaten me, yet. i should be worth threatening.  â â  the memories well up like springwater, faster than i can hold them back.  â â  i hoped that you would come.  â â  the voices of the dead were said to have the power to make the living mad.  â â i have weathered the anger of gods before.  â â  i thought of how many nights i had lain awake in this room, loving you in silence.  â â  there is nothing in the world i want more than to know what you had not said.  â â  you will never gain fame from your fighting. does this surprise you? â â  my mind is filled with cataclysm and apocalypse: i wish for earthquakes, eruptions, flood. only that seems large enough to hold all of my rage and grief. â â  i will not cry in front of you.  â â listen to me. you go too far in this. i will not be able to protect you. â â  there is no honor in betraying your friends.  â â  iâm afraid I have been prompted by a rare stirring of guilt.  â â  i promised myself that if i ever saw you again, i would keep my thoughts behind my eyes.  â â  i did not want you to see my fear, though normally we kept nothing from each other.  â â  gods and mortals never mix happily in our stories.  â â  you will be dead soon enough.  â â  you are destroying yourself. you will not be loved for this, you will be hated, and cursed.  â â  you left yourself today. and now you are returned.  â â  you are a better person than i.  â â  whatever you do, i shall stand with you, as i always have. â â  you have looked at me a thousand thousand times, but there is something different in this gaze, an intensity i do not know.  â â  my life is my reputation. it is all i have.  â â may i give you some advice? if you are truly his friend, you will help him leave this soft heart behind.  â â  what are you thinking about? â â  even the boldest of people would whisper a prayer if they brushed against me.  â â  the keen edge of my envy was like flint, a spark away from fire.  â â  do you think we fight hopeless wars? â â  it is strange, that you would speak against betrayal.  â â  if every soldier killed only those whoâd personally offended him, weâd have no wars at all.  â â no one has ever tried to take something from me.  â â  stay behind me.  â â  will you help me put the rest of my armor on? â â your face is blank and barren, like another language, impenetrable.  â â  i am here because i believe that we will win. i am staying until the end.  â â  your presence is like a stone in my shoe, impossible to ignore.  â â  he is not worthy of you. he never has been.  â â  will you tell me who hurt you? â â it is like a nightmare; i expect, each moment, to wake to relief. but there is no waking.  â â  i do not need to prove myself to you. to any of you.  â â  you have always thought too much of yourself.  â â  some men gain glory after they die, while others fade.  â â  even here, behind the darkness of my eyelids, i cannot name the thing i hope for.  â â  our joy is so bright we can see nothing else but the other.  â â  you have a tender heart. an admirable quality, surely.  â â  you are spring, golden and bright. envious death would drink your blood, and grow young again.  â â  i will not be the raven on your shoulder all the time, predicting gloom.  â â  you look different in sleep, beautiful but cold as moonlight.  â â  when there is greed, there is hope. â â  i could have told you more, of the dreams that leave me bleary and bloodshot, the almost-screams that scrape my throat as i swallow them down.  â â  you are angry, and not without reason.  â â you feel mislead; you were promised victory.  â â  you know, itâs funny; i keep thinking iâve seen you before.  â
i hate to do this cause im not here n it feels selfish even tho this is obvi more serious đ but as u know i recently moved, and iâm $300 short for the upcoming rent. ive asked available family for what they could spare so i promise asking here was my last resort!! any bit helps, thank u. msg for my paypal. my venmo is @/melodytrait, my cashapp is $melodytrait.
omg was planning to be here but i had to replace my flooring. again đ
their worlds have been flipped upside down in the matter of seconds. the agonizing days that followed were no help: with no way of knowing when feyre would return home, or if she was even safe â both of his brothers remaining with the healers, cassian's wings still torn to shreds. elain and nesta's lives that they once knew, being ripped from them. that night ... rhysand had never felt so helpless, with azriel's blood pooling at their feet, cassian unable to even stand, feyre being their only way to salvation. for once, he was paralyzed, drowning in the dread of his worst fears coming to fruition.
and for nesta to be forced into all of this, taken to the other side of the wall that she held in such low regard, held captive in a life she had no desire for. he's known once what that feels like, to be trapped, to say goodbye to everything you once knew. perhaps there was some sort of hope, that maybe they could find common ground. it was a desperate attempt at keeping peace, extending an offer of some support, even if he knew the odds of her taking to him kindly weren't in his favor.
however, the crashing of porcelain and vitriol directed toward him cause that hope to fizzle out quickly. star-kissed wind readies to absorb any fragments that never quite make it, and rhysand stands unmoving. the light in his eyes is distant, a flicker of simmering rage that he blinks away, only for the sake of his mate. if he hadn't seen first hand how she treated feyre, the memories he's walked through, ( A COTTAGE IN THE WOODS : an older sister, eager to let the youngest take on the pressure of providing for everyone else, without lifting a finger. baring her teeth as she barks insults, looking down at her with pure resentment. ) and maybe if she weren't still behaving in that exact same manor, even now ... with feyre sacrificing the freedom she had just gained, all for her sake. his patience wouldn't be wearing so thin.
yet rhysand swallows all of that down, and instead waits it out as nesta goes through the motions. fingers pluck lint from the dark sleeve of his tunic, any softness on his face that might have once resembled sympathy, dwindles down to indifference akin to boredom. he doesn't even so much as glance towards the spoon, as it barely reaches his chest before clinking to the ground. there's only a flicker of amusement that lights up his features, for only a second, as her destruction backfires onto her. a rabid animal, indeed.
" whilst i admire the theatrics ... " a click of his tongue and with a graceful flick of the wrist, celestial darkness ripples across the room, swallowing the wreckage in one fell swoop. a disapproving look is shot her way, and rhysand merely shrugs. " i'm not here for you, though i know that may come as a shock. i came to see how elain is faring. " violet eyes once over the now spotless room, as shadows start to dissipate. " but i'm sure having to listen to this outburst of yours will prove to be very helpful in aiding her recovery. "
@rhysie â â this didnât have to happen. â
"do not speak to me about things which didn't have to happen!" nesta spat the words with all the venom she had been quite graciously biting back for too long. with them she launched the cup of tea that elain had once again ignored before wordlessly disappearing for the evening. it joined the shattered plate of food on the floor, but the mess of it seemed meagre in such a grand space. the venom had been blazing in her veins, tangling with the changes in her blood, and threatening to BURN THROUGH tissue and bone for weeks now. she could no longer stand the sensation of it scolding her throat while she forced herself to stay quiet.
it was all nesta could do to keep herself from spending every moment of her life, now dauntingly l o n g, screaming at the top of her lungs.
thus far it had been nothing but a series of events which "didn't have to happen". which should not have happened. each of them floated through her thoughts like a play with no ending, and she could feel her sanity slipping away from her along with any hope for normalcy.
she wondered if her sister was experiencing the same retelling of the worst moments of her life. if she'd withdrawn into herself because the re-enactments in her mind were far too loud for her to immerse herself in anything else; be that food, or nature, or conversation. elain was the sole reason she was able to maintain a sense of calm. she had hoped that by seeming serene, she may be able to coax her gentlest sister back. and with her return she may be able to relax for a few moments; to stop grinding her teeth with every breath. at the very least if her sister was okay she would be able to release just a little fragment of her FEAR. but as far as she could tell elain was only getting worse, and the chances of seeing feyre again seemed less promising with each passing day. being around her youngest sister, their salvation, was rarely a pleasant experience. she was certain it was even less so for feyre, but she found herself craving her presence. she couldn't help but think she was the missing piece in their puzzle; that if elain were to see her alive and well she would return to herself.
one thing was for certain, nesta's own presence was no help at all. sometimes she wondered if she was making things worse. her blood seemed to ROAR in agreement. afterall, when had she ever improved a dire situation? if feyre was a provider, elain a nurturer, then her own gift was destruction. a gift she suspected was exacerbated by the cursed cauldron. in that moment she she decided she would embrace it, cause carnage until finally the high lord took some kind of action. whether he got her sister back, or released her to the streets of velaris, she didn't care.
her blood sang as she reached for the cutlery and launched it across the lavish makeshift prison piece by piece. but nesta's aim was never very good - the best she could manage was to get a spoon to collide with his chest. it was laughable really, but she only felt like crying. a sound of frustration, gutteral and desperate, escaped her lips instead and as she grasped the now empty table and tossed it to one side she realised she was the FERAL CREATURE she'd always accused the youngest archeron of being. worst still, she wasn't even skilled at it. as the heavy table clattered to the ground, it crushed her toes.
pain coursed through her, but it was not entirely unpleasant, and without an ounce of the necessary care she pushed it away from her. nesta forced her features into a mask before finally glancing up at rhysand's violet eyes. it always struck her that he looked amused somehow; a never-ending sense of smugness surrounded him. nesta's nostrils flared, teeth once again clenching close, and she growled: "get out!"
she didn't have the right to demand that, or anything in his home, but her entitled nature was all she had left to cling to - so she would. her gaze became steely as she stared at him, daring him to do something; anything.
đđđ đ”đ¶đ”đœđŹđčđ©đšđł đ·đčđ¶đŽđ·đ»đș .   (  a  collection  of  100  nonverbal action prompts .  mature and potentially triggering themes  are  present .  add  â + reverse â  to  swap  assigned  roles . )
â o1ïč sender tucks hair out of receiverâs face . â o2ïč sender  offers  receiver  a  bite  from  their  fork . â o3ïč sender places their feet / legs in receiver's lap . â o4ïč sender offers receiver an earbud to share their music . â o5ïč sender comforts receiver in the aftermath of a nightmare . â o6ïč sender gives receiver company in the hospital . â o7ïč sender  wraps  their  arms  around  a  hysterical  receiver  to  calm  them . â o8ïč sender shows up at receiverâs home late at night . â o9ïč sender falls asleep leaning against receiver . â 1oïč sender wields a [ gun / knife ] at receiver . â 11ïč sender runs their fingers through receiverâs hair . â 12ïč sender invites receiver to dance . â 13ïč sender takes a [ picture / video ] of receiver . â 14ïč sender places their head in receiverâs lap . â 15ïč sender and receiver make eye contact across a busy room . â 16ïč sender pushes receiver against a wall to kiss them . â 17ïč sender and receiver cook together . â 18ïč sender comes to receiver after being injured . â 19ïč sender sits in receiverâs lap . â 2oïč sender lifts receiver's chin , invoking eye contact . â 21ïč sender overtakes receiver in combat . â 22ïč sender finds receiver [ injured / bloodied ] . â 23ïč sender straightens an article of receiverâs clothes . â 24ïč sender crawls into bed with receiver . â 25ïč sender rolls their eyes at receiver . â 26ïč sender lights receiverâs [ cigarette / joint ] . â 27ïč sender is caught wearing receiver's clothes . â 28ïč sender strikes receiver with a pillow . â 29ïč sender writes a note on receiverâs skin : [ note ] . â 3oïč sender wraps a blanket around receiverâs shoulders . â 31ïč sender runs and jumps into receiverâs arms . â 32ïč sender shoves receiver out of anger . â 33ïč sender  hovers  over  receiverâs  shoulder  as  they  complete  a  task . â 34ïč sender is found by receiver somewhere they shouldnât be . â 35ïč sender curls up against receiver in their sleep . â 36ïč sender is found drunk by receiver . â 37ïč sender throws an item of sentiment bitterly at receiver . â 38ïč sender joins receiver in the shower . â 39ïč sender is caught following receiver . â 4oïč sender traces one of receiverâs [ scars / bruises ] . â 41ïč sender twines their fingers with receiverâs . â 42ïč sender barges into receiverâs home unannounced . â 43ïč sender kicks receiverâs shin beneath a table . â 44ïč sender aggressively shoves past receiver . â 45ïč sender kisses receiverâs [ forehead / cheek ] . â 46ïč sender pulls receiver out of harmâs way . â 47ïč sender is found sobbing by receiver . â 48ïč sender locks receiver out of their room . â 49ïč sender brings receiver [ coffee / tea ] in the morning . â 5oïč sender rests their forehead against receiverâs . â 51ïč sender plays a song for receiver that reminds them of them : [ song ] . â 52ïč sender takes a [ punch / stab / bullet ] meant for receiver . â 53ïč sender buys receiver a drink at a bar . â 54ïč sender needs receiverâs help getting in the bath . â 55ïč sender and receiver cross paths in the kitchen late at night . â 56ïč sender twists receiverâs arm behind their back . â 57ïč sender winks at receiver . â 58ïč sender is found collapsed by receiver . â 59ïč sender prevents an injured receiver from getting up . â 6oïč sender claps a hand over receiverâs mouth to silence them . â 61ïč sender cages receiver against a [ wall / the floor ] with their arms . â 62ïč sender storms away from receiver during an argument . â 63ïč sender is found by receiver sleeping in receiverâs bed . â 64ïč sender [ applies / touches up ] receiverâs makeup . â 65ïč sender throws receiver into a wall during combat . â 66ïč sender dances sensually with receiver . â 67ïč sender  strikes  receiver  across  the  face . â 68ïč sender places their hand on receiverâs leg while driving . â 69ïč sender pulls a chair out from under receiver . â 7oïč sender catches receiverâs wrist when they turn to leave . â 71ïč sender leaves an intimate mark on receiver . â 72ïč sender beats receiver in a video game . â 73ïč sender and receiver stand in stunned silence after a fight . â 74ïč sender cares for receiver while theyâre sick . â 75ïč sender  and receiver go on a hike . â 76ïč sender is caught snooping in receiverâs things . â 77ïč sender  and receiver cuddle while watching television . â 78ïč sender throws something aggressively at receiver . â 79ïč sender creeps up behind receiver to scare them . â 8oïč sender and receiver go shopping together . â 81ïč sender helps receiver [ dye / style ] their hair . â 82ïč sender draws receiver into a kiss by the back of their neck . â 83ïč sender is discovered having a panic attack by receiver . â 84ïč sender accidentally injures receiver during sparring . â 85ïč sender grabs receiver roughly by the hair . â 86ïč sender brings receiver to their knees during combat . â 87ïč sender shows receiver evidence of a lie they told . â 88ïč sender  winks [ seductively / mockingly ] at receiver . â 89ïč sender yells at receiver to put their hands in the air . â 9oïč sender helps receiver patch up a wound . â 91ïč sender holds receiver as they cry . â 92ïč sender silently and angrily points receiver towards the door . â 93ïč sender  gestures for receiver to sit down . â 94ïč sender  pulls receiver into their lap . â 95ïč sender cradles receiverâs face . â 96ïč sender tackles receiver out of the way of danger . â 97ïč sender has hidden an injury from receiver , and receiver finds out . â 98ïč sender confronts receiver about their unhealthy behavior . â 99ïč sender proposes to receiver . â 1ooïč sender  has  just  died ,  receiver  finds  out .