Discover Top Posts Tagged with #orphicflames

master olly thinks richeh should bite. do it. there are people that deserve it.

"See!? Master Olly gets it!"

#in character — richeh #$5 says its just bc he thinks it's funny #orphicflames

Not that bad ?? Not that bad ?! Tetia sometimes cannot believe the foolishness of her teachers — not taking care of themselves and pretending like their dear students wouldn't notice ! Without warning, she leans up to press the back of her hand against his forehead. She can't tell if there's a fever, but that doesn't mean Master Olly doesn't still need help.

❝ You need to learn to take care of yourself better ! You and Master Qifrey. Do you think we wouldn't notice ?? Wait right here. ❞ She promptly deposits herself at the stove, turning the kettle on and filling it from the vapor bubble. ❝ But you're right about that, ❞ Tetia announces brightly, ❝ I should bother Master Qifrey, since he doesn't look too good these days either. ❞

/ @orphicflames &. cont.

#( ic. )#( tetia. )#orphicflames #IM SORRY I HAD TO #SHES VERY CONCERNED

Kaz Brekker catches her by surprise.

His fingertips graze her cheek, settle a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and Inej finds herself breathless, her heart adding a couple of extra beats to compensate. The mug she was reaching for ( his ) is as forgotten as their schemes. If she didn't know him better, she'd call the look in his eyes tender.

She falls into the moment carefully and extends her hand slowly, letting it hover beside @orphicflames's cheek. It's close enough for him to feel the warmth of her palm, but they don't touch. Instead, Inej lets her hand linger within his reach and waits.

She waits for him to close the distance.

She waits for Kaz to let her in.

#post ck verse only cause no way would pre soc kaz do it lol #this is now 2 different fluff threads 2 #new record #the angsty starters are all still on my list dw i'm just hella distracted by my askbox lol #also who needs dialogue when you have two traumatized kids who don't know how to touch #orphicflames #v (Inej); the shadow that haunts a looming storm #kaz tbt

“a mushroom? really?” kaz is not impressed.

blank faced and even toned, teddy says, "well, inej told me you were a . . . fun guy."

#ANSWERED.#orphicflames #/SLAPS KNEES

ran vc: you’re so innocent and i’ve never touched alcohol. 😒

#❛ ● █ CRACK: HATERS CAN'T HATE ME. THIS EYEPATCH IS GUCCI. ❜#orphicflames #ari you've known me for a decade so you better appreciate me taking my time to make this LMAO

“ When were you going to tell me? ” // agott for qifrey? / @orphicflames

✦ * . ˚ ⨯ ੭ * ‧ ❝ ... Oh, my dear. ❞

Among his many daily worries, Agott ranks highly. She has since the moment he met her, though to her credit, she has been truly remarkable. Showing restraint, cognizant of what it takes to graduate from apprenticeship — but this world is unforgiving and Qifrey's never known quite how to approach what's best for her.

She is, after all, still a child, no matter how quickly she wants to grow.

How could he ever get her to see the gift that is ?

❝ I had no idea what would come to pass, and I mean that honestly. ❞ Whatever answers Qifrey is seeking, whatever his deepest desires, the thought of putting his apprentices knowingly in the path of a Brimmed Cap — his stomach roils at the thought, and it is in no way from the aftereffects of surviving their little surprise cave in.

He sighs gently, opening his arms in a gesture of peace. ❝ You did so, so well, handling the situation. But it does not mean that you should have been put in that position in the first place, and as your teacher — I would not ask for your assistance against them. Not yet. ❞ The grin at his lips is wry and knowing.

❝ Which I'm sure is not the answer you're looking for. But I hope that you can trust me when I say that I very much want you to have the future you desire. ❞

#( ic. )#( answered. )#( qifrey. )#orphicflames #oh agott my entire heart and soul you ARE best girl !!!#something after the ep 13 cliffhanger ??

❝ don’t think. just feel. ❞ // olly could be talking about anything, i'm just saying qifrey~

sweet filthy things (usfw dialogue prompts) // always accepting <333 ——— && the inspiration.

LIKE ORBIT, THERE IS ALWAYS A RISK OF DESTRUCTION, in getting close to what you want. such a risk is something qifrey keeps in mind constantly, at every touch of hands, brush of shoulders, that rolls between him and his dearest star. these things are simple principals, he knows; the thorn-bush & its blackberries is one of the first lessons a child learns; but they are no less difficult, even in their simplicity. some who understand the sting of the bee — understand the risk of the fire — are no less tempted by its honey; its heat; its bright, hungry glow.

god, he is hungry. the word loses meaning, but the body does not forget so easily. the body remembers in tones of hunger pang, in appetite lost so gradually & gained so ferociously one could eat the world raw, in heatflash and chills and gnashing teeth, in eating oneself alive. the worst part of being hungry isn't exactly the hunger, it's the feast. everywhere, he sees it, smells it, wraps his hands around what could be broken under his teeth and consumed instantly, greedily, and yet, it is never his to have. it cannot be. the guilt is sugar water and ice, enough to survive off of, never enough to feel contented by.

this is the point, of course. this is what must be. this is his earliest memories. qifrey lives, surrounded in the thorn-bushes and their gleaming, bright fruit. qifrey lives, cold & tempted always, to stick his hands in the fire.

had he not known better, he would think olruggio drunk, already. he does, however, know his olruggio more than well enough to discern that the ghost of wine on his watchful eye's tongue is not enough to promote what it is that comes off of it, clicking from his teeth like flint to steel — that the red in his cheeks is not from one shared bottle alone, that his hands would not follow where they do; feather-light & fanned open & kind, always kind, in this way olruggio seems to find it impossible not to be, even to his greatest benefit; were it from just the alcohol alone. the warmth of olruggio's skin bleeds through the thin silk of his dark undershirt, pressed against the small of qifreys back, and here is a boiling pot waiting to overflow, it seems. here is the orbit of two tenative, tugging bodies against the soft rug of olruggio's tower. here is the fire and the fruit and the hunger, unimaginable hunger. temptation, with every reaching hand to bleed from.

"Olruggio." his face is hot, already. eyes dark with matched fervor, body lighting up like kindling, voice pretending at sternness. the witch had started this, he knows, a passing comment intended to slip between cracks in conversation ( "Its awfully lucky you're my watchful eye, Olruggio. I don't see how anyone could keep their hands off you." ) that had been the wind to the flame that wanted to catch, needed to catch, to spiral out into what it was now. his heart thumps in his ears, distantly, like a stampede stuck in a cage of bramble, and it is, and it isn't, and this is bad. this is very, very bad. he can feel it, already, in the wire-work of his spine and the underside of every rib, the little sprouts shifting. unthinking, his hands brace against olruggios shoulders, but do not push. he should be pushing. he should be stopping this. he should.

he's hungry. he's so, very hungry. his stomach twists in dread and guilt and wanting, nails digging into his star, chest twisting. he wants this. he wants this so badly he could kill for it, would kill for it, if a death was all it took — hell, a death would be easy. a death would be nothing. the guilt would fade, he's sure, if it meant none of this had ever had to haunt him. if he did not have to grasp, vice-like, to the quiet terror in his chest. if he could— oh, god, if he could touch him, and be touched back, and finally, finally, sink his teeth in.

"Ah, I don't think-" and the flint sparks. it's next to nothing. just an inch, shifting closer, sharing breath. olruggios voice is so, very quiet when he answers; just for qifrey. — when he pleads, in this way qifrey understands what pleading is, to a man prideful. his body betrays him, as it always does; a shiver up his spine as all those feeling buds seek, just as hungry as he is. something white-hot melts in his chest, and he holds his breath, burning alive, stomach twisting. he feels sick. he feels cold and hot all at once. he feels how he must imagine someone in a noose to feel, moments before the hanging. olruggio is kind. olruggio is so terribly kind. qifrey cannot ever understand what gives a man the kind of patience that olruggio has, for him, watching him hold his breath; watching him burn; waiting for him. god, always waiting for him, aren't you, olly?

qifrey recognizes wanting when he sees it. qifrey recognizes the act of trying to cut the brambles through. qifrey recognizes asking, with a heart he will never deserve being the recipient of, to please, please, he's hungry. let him eat.

his nails dig in hard enough to be painful. something goes weak in his bright, blue eye. something like prayer occurs to him, in the back of his mind, bedmates with guilt. ( just five more minutes; i want this so bad. )

"... Please, Olly." he remembers how breathe. He forces the tremble from his hands as he touches the stubble at olruggio's jaw. he holds tight to the steel of the burden given to him, and recalls, quietly, that it would only be fair to give him back something in turn. qifreys voice, little more than a ghost. "Please. I want to feel you."