#†|| BEAR NECESSITIES OF WAR

[grimoirefate]

TAG DROP 001

[ ooc. ] i'm a nice person so long as you are nice to me. my muses are not the only ones with teeth.

[ ic. ] i once feared mythal would consume me were i to carry her. but twas not so. i remain free willed and mortal.

[ mythal & solas ] ...are not for you alone to bear my friend. the many wrongs we did. we did together. I release you from my service.

[ mythal introspection ] I pulled you from the fade you loved and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon and it broke you.

[ introspection ] when she intended me to become the next host of an ancient gods soul I feared naught would be left of my own.

[ veilguard ] I have been advisor to orlais. witch of the wilds. daughter of flemeth. and once long ago an old friend.

[ inquisition. ] I knew the empress was intrigued by the arcane and I could answer questions no chantry mage could.

[ origins. ] well. well. what have we here? are you a vulture I wonder? a scavenger? poking amidst a corpse? or intruder?

[ answered: ooc. ] its me. the equivalent of a spicy kitten in a corner.

[ answered: ic. ] yet she survived and returned ages later to aide the inquisition in its hour of need. how?

[ psa. ] hear ye! hear ye! use those things on the side of your head or be doomed.

[ saved. ] im like a dragon when it comes to things i like.

[ prompts / memes. ] twas both a pleasure and necessity to help them as it is now.

[ crack. ] ooooo! you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you!

[ salt. ] i'm bitter and now i'm making it everyone's problem.

[ birthday. ] its my hatch day!!!!

[ self promotion. ] would that I could become them I would for now this will do.

[ promotion ] look! its the people I like! I think you will like them too!

[mohammedmtargaza]

Imagine this:

Hello! Have you ever heard of a "city of the dead"?

It's a place where the living reside, but they're dead! They're doomed to die, either quickly through direct targeting or slowly due to the absence of vitality in their city

Wherever you turn, you find nothing but death, displacement, homelessness, destruction, hunger, thirst, ignorance, disease, and rampant infection.

It's my city! It was fully with life until the butchers passed through it! Since the beginning of the massacres, I've been struggling to save myself and my family.

I am Mohammed from Gaza I’m sharing my story with hope in my heart, because your kindness has already given us so much strength.

a 31-year-old living amidst the war in Gaza, a place deeply affected by conflict and hardship. I hold a Bachelor degree in Medical Laboratory Sciences , I graduated with very good But Unfortunately, I did not get a job opportunity.

my family

Before the outbreak of war, my family and I had a comfortable life in our beautiful home filled with cherished memories. However, since the conflict began, our lives have been turned upside down. We now find ourselves living in a small tent, exposed to the harsh elements and constant threat of violence.

Our home, which once embraced us, is now destroyed It became a remembrance

👉 Watch the video

A picture of me and my family in front of our destroyed house.

👉Our house was bombed in the 2008 escalation and we built it, and also in the 2014 escalation the house was destroyed again and we rebuilt it, and in this 2023/2024 war the house was also destroyed.

Every time we start again, the Israeli occupation destroys us again

Life is unbearable. It has become hell for us. destruction, no education, no future

We can't stand it anymore

The situation here is dire. Food and basic necessities are scarce, and famine and malnutrition have become rampant. Our lives are hanging by a thread, and we fear for the safety and well-being of our children every single day.

The cost of living here has become extremely high. All of our resources are going towards securing food and trying to escape from disaster, desperately seeking a lifeline.

We are yearning to escape this nightmare and rebuild our lives in a safe place.

However, the cost of traveling to a safer area was beyond our means.

Each ticket cost $5000 per person,

a sum that was impossible for us to bear. Now, the border crossing is closed, and things continue to worsen.

We want to collect donations to leave Gaza if the crossing opens

That's why I am reaching out to you, dear friends. Your generosity and compassion can make all the difference for me and my family. Your donations will enable us to flee this war-torn region and start anew, away from the horrors of conflict and instability.

How You Can Help Us Cross the Finish Line Even the smallest act of kindness can make a difference:

$5 may seem small, but for us, it’s a little relief, a moment of comfort, and a reminder that kindness still exists. ❤️

Can’t donate? Reblog this post to help us reach someone who can. Every share matters more than you know.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #533 )✅️

Vetted by @bilal-salah0

With all my love and gratitude

Mohammed and family

Donation Link

[najahmeq7]

🇵🇸Pain, sadness and suffering every day we die. Yesterday I told you about our neighbors. Today I tell you about the loss of the most precious thing we have, the uncle, beloved, and honorable professor, Imad Muqdad, who was martyred today, along with a group of his grandchildren, in a Zionist bombing that led to the destruction of everything. This is our life. Every day we lose someone dear and precious to our hearts. Today our relative was martyred. Tomorrow it is us, and God knows best.🇵🇸🍉🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

🚨An urgent appeal to the kind-hearted people who stand by me and help me in our ordeal. We are being bombed every day and every hour there is a martyr.🚨

I am Najah Al-Hila, a mother of four children. My house has been completely destroyed, and my husband Khaled was injured in the war. I have a small child who has no milk, and we have no food. We are trapped and don't know how to face these difficult circumstances. Please, donate to us now. We are in desperate need of any possible help, as every passing moment increases our suffering.

My situation is extremely difficult, I can't describe the pain I endure every day. My house was destroyed, my husband Khaled was injured in the war, and my young children don't know what safety or peace means. I can't provide their most basic needs. The little one in my arms can’t find milk, and we have no food. I try to be strong in front of them, but my heart is breaking with pain and helplessness. I don't know how to get through this, or where to find help. Life has become very dark for me, and I am powerless to change anything. Every day that passes is a heavy burden, and I walk through it with no hope. I need a hand to help me, or even a word to reassure my heart.

My situation has become unbearable, and every moment that passes increases the suffering of me and my family. I am in urgent need of immediate financial assistance, as I cannot provide even the simplest necessities for my children in these difficult circumstances. I need at least $150 to secure milk for my little one and some food for all of us. Any donation, no matter how small, could make the difference between life and death for us. Please, don't leave us in this crisis, as I am living in conditions I cannot bear any longer.

I am now trapped in a place I cannot escape from, and the situation here is unbearable. My house has been completely destroyed, my husband Khaled was injured in the war, and I am struggling greatly to secure the basic needs of my children. The little one cannot find milk, and we have no food. I cannot reach any outside help due to the siege. I am completely helpless, and every passing moment increases my fear and anxiety. Time is running out, my life is in your hands. Please, save us from death. I desperately need an urgent donation to help me meet my children's needs and keep them alive in these difficult circumstances.

As you read this, there are those who are lying under the rubble, waiting for death. Those who lost their families, their homes, their dreams, and I am one of them. My family and I were displaced after our home was destroyed. All that is left for us is some clothes and memories that refuse to die under the bombing. Today, we have been struck by a tragedy. On the first day of Eid, children and their father went to play and buy some toys. They were bombed by a missile that led to the martyrdom of all of them.🥹🥹

Don't leave me, stand by me. Your donation will reach us. Your participation will help us reach our goal. We have collected approximately 13,198 out of 80,000 to help rescue my family before I lose them like we lost others. Please save us.🙏🙏

I can no longer provide for the necessities of life. My family's future is completely destroyed. I can no longer live in Gaza. I want to leave the Strip, so I need $5,000 per person.❤️

I hope everyone who watches my story will help me.

So I can get out of Gaza and find treatment and a better life for my children and family.

I am asking for help, and I hope you will help me and donate.

To save my life from death.

I hope you will donate even $25-50; it would be wonderful. Any more than that would make us happier.🙏❤️🇵🇸🇵🇸

🇵🇸🇵🇸My campaign has been verified by both🇵🇸🇵🇸

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[brucespringsteensborntorun]

Please Read

I am speaking on behalf of @eslamfa1, who has her own campaign for her and her family so they may survive under the harsh conditions in Gaza. She is very thankful for all the support she's had, but she needs more help.

She has asked me to host a fundraiser for more of her family, namely for her parents and siblings who desperately need funds for food, water, and medical treatment. They have been displaced multiple times and have only been able to contact Eslam through an unreliable internet connection.

Here is their story as written by her sister, Aya:

"Hello friends, we will tell you our sad story

I am Aya, an outstanding high school student. I was very happy to be on the verge of achieving my dream of finishing my school studies and achieving what I aspired to, which is to become a doctor.

My family of 8 and a beautiful cat named Katie were living a beautiful and peaceful life, each of us striving to achieve our dreams.

We had our beautiful house in Khan Yunis. Recently, we were celebrating my sister Heba’s fourth place in the Gaza Strip in the Arabic language recruitment exam. Our life was like material and emotional perfection. We did not feel deprived or lacking anything.

My sister Lina is a university student. Her dream was to become a psychologist to help mentally ill people in the Strip.

My brother Ahmed was the most beautiful gift from God. He came after 20 years of being deprived of male siblings. After completing his studies, he became a water carrier and took on a great responsibility beyond his capacity.

We also had two little butterflies, the apple of the house, and Jana, the favorites of their teachers and friends at school.

Then the war broke out and everything was turned upside down. We were forced to leave the house after quadcopters surrounded us, tanks surrounded us, and we saw death right in front of our eyes, but we miraculously escaped.

We were displaced several times on foot. Feet, then our end was in a tent that did not protect us from the cold of winter or the heat of summer, and there were poisonous insects and scorpions around us, there was no clean water or healthy food, so my family and I got hepatitis and a lot of intestinal infections.

We were shocked that our house was bombed and destroyed and the features of the house disappeared from the face of the earth, so we felt very sad and despair took over us.

Life here in Gaza is expensive, we cannot buy the minimum necessities of life, imagine that the price of a kilo of tomatoes is $50, and the price of a bag of flour is $200, life here is like a famine! My father is a nervous patient and my mother suffers from chronic pressure and they need continuous treatment and medications. We suffer from bringing water from long distances, and from the high prices of food and cleaning materials and water pollution. What we have suffered most in this war is the loss of members of our family, and this is the hardest thing we have been through. We have lost 20 members of our family. Please help us bear the very high cost of living until we evacuate from Gaza and save our lives. The cost per person is $5,000. Help us, you are the only hope left."

These are some of the photos she's managed to receive of some of her family (Aya, Ahmed, Hala, Jana, and their cat) and of the conditions of the areas they've been displaced from and to:

Note: Due to mentioned lack of internet connection, Eslam has not been able to receive more photos yet. There will be more updates to come when, hopefully, more communications are made.

PLEASE DONATE !!!!! Aya, Lina, Ahmed, Hala, jana, and their parents' well beings are at stake! Starting goal is $10,000

@90-ghost @gaza-evacuation-funds @gazavetters

[mohamed-meq2]

🙏🏻Give me your attention for a second

First of all, we are not well at all. The war has been going on for two years and we are still without shelter. All necessities are very expensive in the markets and even food is rarely eaten. Healthy food💔😔

And on the first day of Eid al-Fitr in Gaza, children playing with joy and happiness were targeted. The Israeli occupation killed the joy of these children.

We are dying every minute and every second. We are being displaced from our homes and we have nothing left. We can no longer bear this destruction and pain.💔😔

These seconds that you see in the video take the lives of millions of people in one minute

Neither doctor, paramedic, teacher, young man nor old man were spared from these missiles. Even children could not take shelter from these missiles.😔💔

We don't know when our turn will be, but we want to live a better life than this.💔Please do not leave us alone. We are waiting for your support in all ways.😭💔

Donate even 20$ This will really help us a lot and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your support throughout this period and we are waiting for your support as well. We know that you will not let us down.

Veeted by

@gazavetters My number on the list is #94✅

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My friends who support Palestinian campaigns, I ask you to share so that we can get our voice across to the whole world. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your help.❤️‍🩹🙏🏻

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[wormkink]

URGENT: YOU CAN SAVE HAMMAD AND HIS FAMILY ❤️‍🩹‼️🇵🇸

VETTED BY ASSOCIATION: Hammad and his family are friends with Safaa [VETTED BY 90-GHOST]

$2,940 / $20,000

The last post about Hammad’s campaign is LOSING TRACTION FAST and DONATIONS ARE DWINDLING.

We need YOUR HELP to BOOST THIS POST: PLEASE REBLOG & SHARE ACROSS ALL OF YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA.

[DM FOR READY-TO-POST PICTURES & WORDS FOR HAMMAD’S CAMPAIGN SO ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS HIT POST]

Meet Hammad A.

Hammad is one out of 9 members of his family. He is the eldest boy and the sole provider of his family at the young age of 24 since his father has been battling heart disease, and consequently suffered a debilitating heart attack.

[TW: Close by sounds of heavy artillery shelling and bombing.]

Months ago, at the start of the war, the neighborhood that Hammad and his family grew up in, where they created and held so many cherished memories and bonds, was besieged.

For days, Hammad and his family were trapped, terrified, between the once stable, now crumbling, walls of his home that once brought comfort and privacy to him now threatened to crush him beneath the rubble and the violent shelling of bullets and bombs whistling past their ears through the air and decimating anything it came in contact with.

His family sat, hungry, terrified, praying to live, watching the sun make its rounds past the plumes of black smoke rising from crumpled homes that once lined their block. This is only a fraction of what Hammad has been forced to endure for the over 550 days.

He watched his beautiful home be destroyed — the memories of his childhood, destroyed; the hard work he and his family put into creating their home, destroyed; the pride he and his family had of their home, destroyed; comfort and security, destroyed.

So Hammad pitched a tent. In the face of exposure to harsh elements, forced conditions of unsanitary environments where disease and sickness spreads rapidly, and deprived of the most basic necessities with skyrocketing costs for flour, clothes, and shelter, Hammad persevered to keep his family alive and as safe as he could. He cared for his father as best he could, but his heart disease requires an operation that none of the besieged or otherwise destroyed hospitals of Gaza can do.

But a day came where deafening and core shaking sounds of shelling and bombardment shook the nearby area as they prepared food. Terrified, they ran for their lives. And when they were able to return, their tent has caught fire and burnt down, along with the few items in their tent that they were able to grab from their home before it was destroyed.

Faced with extreme hunger, thirst, displacement, and now the tent burnt down leading to more exposure to the harsh elements, Hammad’s father’s condition has only worsened. The resilience and strength Hammad has constantly and consistently shown only goes so far in the face of the lifeblood of his family suffering under such dire conditions, and I cannot bear for Hammad to have to endure the heartbreak of losing his father.

There is no more room for any more tragedy in his life. We cannot allow it.

While there is a lot of notes on the last post about Hammad’s campaign, traction has been dwindling fast and donations have been slowing down. I cannot emphasize enough the urgency of this campaign and how critically Hammad needs your help.

‼️ STAND IN SOLIDARITY WITH GAZA AND DONATE TODAY ‼️

Chuffed has a waiting period for processing and transferring funds. If you want your donation to IMMEDIATELY be sent to Hammad, paypal is linked below.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, pillory, elf-reader, orc assailants, war between orcs and elves, racism between orcs and elves, captive reader, poor confinement conditions, starvation, piss drinking, cumflation, mindbreak, Stockholm syndrome

♡ FEM reader

The orc camp smells of blood and sweat and other obscenities you and your snooty elven nose fear naming. 

They’ve stripped you and your fellow troops of all weaponry and armor—ugly bastards even took your boots! Leaving you in only silken undergarments, standing barefoot in the cold, wet mud. 

It’s to make it harder to run away if you were to escape, you suspect. You can’t decide if it’s a clever tactic or simply a cruel one. Either way, it’s the least of your worries... You haven't been fed or given water since yesterday when you were all captured—paired with having been made to march for half the day barefoot, all tied up by your wrists, one behind the other, toed along like animals with mean tugs that had more than one of you falling face first in the mud—who knows how many of you will be able to continue walking when they decide it’s time to start moving again—much less run away if and when the opportunity presents itself—leaving you hopeless if someone doesn’t do something soon.

And it turns out that someone is you.

“Hey!” you yell. Bruised hands gripping the splintered wooden bars of your crudely built prison, glaring at the two brutes standing watch.

They acknowledge your shout, but neither of them gives any reason for you to believe they understood you were talking to them. Looking at you, then at each other.

“Yes, you two, guards!” you make clear.

They continue to look at you, yet don’t make a move.

You sigh exasperatingly—yet with how tired you are, it’s more a full-chested groan unbecoming of a fine elven knight, but under the circumstances, you couldn’t much care. 

“I know ungodly monstrosities such as yourselves don’t require much to sustain your foul existence, but elves need food—at the very least water!” 

A fellow elf grabs your shoulder gently, saying something under his breath, perhaps in an effort to make you quiet, but you nudge it off and continue your rant in spite of it. 

“If you plan to keep us alive—as I would think, given your decision to cage us—I would advise you to meet us with the bare necessities!”

Both guards look away toward another orc—one sitting on a thick log at the mouth of one of the nicer, warmer-looking tents they’d pitched—perhaps the biggest one—sharpening his blade with a rock.

He doesn’t look up from his handiwork but speaks, “The elf is hungry?”

You scowl at the question. “Yes, you oaf—the elf is, in fact, hungry.”

He lifts his blade and looks it over—one side, then the other—before sinking it deep down into the mud. Tossing the rock away, he stands and whistles sharply, prompting the two guards to wander off as if to get something. Meanwhile, what seems to be the commander starts walking towards the prison.

Regret starts to fester as he approaches, and you’re reminded once again why the inferior race best you in battle time and time again despite your obvious intellectual difference. Three cabbage heads taller than you, his weight must be about four or five, maybe even six, times yours—built like a grizzly bear—plus his armor, which easily adds another.

He unlocks the prison, and you step back on instinct.

“Come. You will be fed,” he says, opening the gate wide.

You look behind you—all the other elves have scurried back into the far end of the cage, leaving you alone in your endeavor, which only feels foolish now that you’re sure he’s going to use those blood-dirty hands of his to squish your head clean off your shoulders as soon as you step out.

Even still, maybe by the adrenaline of imminent death or the lightheadedness of starvation, you dare ask, though a little cautiously now, “What’s on the menu?”

The orc snorts—perhaps at your pickiness—finding your resolve to uphold your standards funny, given you weren't in much of a situation to make demands. You could scoff, too—of course, you can't expect an orc to understand anything about standards.

He smirks, answering, “Something to keep warm."

Or perhaps he was laughing for an entirely different matter...

The guards return carrying something. You spot them behind him, trudging loudly in the slop before halting—mounting something close to the firepit.

By the time you understand what it is, it’s already too late. Your hair’s grabbed—as well as your entire skull—taken in one meaty hand, pulled out of the safety of the cage, and shoved harshly down into the wet dirt.

He locks up the gate again as you lie there. And you take your chance to try and run, crawling forward—fighting through the clay, dragging you down. Scrambling for balance, you’ve barely even made it up on your feet once he grabs you again—this time leading you towards the other two standing in wait along the torture device they’ve set up just for you.

You’re lifted to stand atop a crate, making you the right height, then bent over—with your wrist led into each their position as well as your throat, shoved down as the lunette comes down and successfully locks you in place—perfectly trapped in the pillory with no means of escape.

You pull and struggle, toiling against the wooden plates—too late for any such silly thing as regret you can only whimper in short, panicked screams and cries—but it’s no use. The hand comes back and grabs your hair, yanking it tightly, making your neck crane as he forces you to look up despite the fixed position.

He smiles down at the look on your face—watching your tears make clear streaks through the mud, lips wobbly as you begin to beg, “Please—I’m sorry, I’ll—”

“Oh, don’t worry, little elf,” he cuts you off with a coo, grabbing your jaw in his other hand. “You’ll be fed, just like promised.”

Something behind you rips your silk cloth away, baring you. You stiffen all over, breath hitching as useless fists whiten in their restraints. You want to kick, to thrash—but poor balance only results in you choking yourself—and so you’re left to stand there, helpless—bowed and nude before three orcs you’ve angered with your reckless entitlement.

“Mh, pretty elf holes…” one of the guards behind murmurs, cupping your asscheeks and spreading them to take a look, filtering grubby fingers through the crack and lips, rubbing over both holes.

You shake, trying to thwart their efforts. But a gritty pad roughs over your clit and finds purchase below it.

“Stop, stop! Don’t!” you wail, but it pries you apart anyway—wriggling inside your cunt in a brutish shove, it sheathes itself deeply in curiosity to see how much you could fit, eagerly pumping it inside knuckle-deep before pulling back out—then repeating the motion—promptly finger-fucking the tight opening with a digit the size of an average elf’s manhood.

You sob, heaving for breath. Shaking your head in shame as you start to slicken—if just to make it a little more bearable, but the wet noise of it only serves to make you wish they’d killed you instead.

“Shh, elf. Don't cry.” The commander orc in front of you keeps his hold on your hair, talking down to you as he admires your despair. “We’ll give you what you beg for…” He strokes your cheek harshly with the other hand, smearing your tears before moving on to his armored belt. 

You whimper as it drops, revealing what must be your newest and truest worst nightmare. 

“A warm meal in all your hungry holes.”

The two guards take turns behind you. You can’t see them, but they’ve made themselves more than known—having stretched out both your openings to accommodate their overgrown size. 

They seem to like it when you cum—keeping their fat fingers on your clit and always fondling your tits, rubbing your nipples as they fuck your womb deeply until you wet them with your fluids. Your knees gave in a little while ago—their groping now the only thing keeping you upright, and the steady pounding the only thing keeping you awake.

Meanwhile, the commander has his fun with your face. Making you cuddle his heavy ballsack, dousing your face in the rank. With a dagger threatening your pretty eye, he'd coaxed your tongue out to play sooner than you’re proud of—now pliantly hanging from your mouth, licking every foul-tasting patch of his toad-like skin—feeling worse than a beggar eating scraps.

But you ought to thank him. Earlier, he’d tried forcing his length down your throat—making your jaw all but unlock to make room. His cockhead is the size of your fist—in the end, you could only suck on it, only able to satisfy him and his harsh scalp-ripping grip on your hair by prodding his dickhole with your tongue. He started petting you when you did that, making you feel all the more defeated.

His mercy tastes worse than the rancid white you’d been made to swallow. You’d wanted to bite, but the dagger he’d earlier stabbed into the wooden plate for safe-keeping keeps you sweet as you lick and suck the prominent veins running up his fat size—face glazed in sweat and spit, both his and yours.

“Poor elf-bitch…” he jeers while twirling a lock of your fine hair around his crooked finger. “Fed twig all your pretty life—of course, you’re hungry.”

He chuckles, voice hoarse and muted—almost soft, were it not for its gritty timbre. Keeping his cock resting heavy against your face, covering your eye while rubbing the base against your pouty lips.

“A mouthy whore like you needs real cock. Only happy when you’re pounded like meat.” He hums, “In your natural state, pleasing those bigger and stronger than you as a good pet should.”

He laughs louder, rumbles with it enough to shake the ground, then breaks away from you.

“Leave her cunt to me,” he says, folding his arms upon his chest, leaving his heavy cock to swing between muscle-ripped thighs as he leers at the scene. “Prissy elf pussy’s mine to breed.”

One of the guards soon takes up the vacant spot in front of you, putting his leaky tip to your lips in a sloppy kiss before pressing through to fight your throat for space—putting you in an air-tight spitroast—with your ass already being forced to play host for the other intruder, getting your drenched and swollen pussy slapped by a pair of weighty balls on each of his breath-robbing thrusts into your guts.

“A'right, boys,” the commander announces, “Let's stuff her ‘til she’s big and round. 'See if she's still hungry then.”

They both groan and dig in as far as your body allows, bordering on its limits, making you stretch to take them deeper before planting their seed—coming in fast ropes at first, then thicker waves, and finally smaller spurts aided by the shunting of their hips as they rut against you—feeding it to you without rush, one dose after the other, until their balls were all good and empty.

Then they sigh, breathing heavily, waiting for their seed to be settled and swallowed in your bowels before slowly sliding their spent cocks out—letting the overdose spill from your holes as you take a weakened breath and quake in the aftershocks, left hanging in the stand with a body full of orc cum and something else, something that's made your mind feel all funny and flirty. 

Then, stomach heavy and warm, hanging with more weight than your breasts—tender and oddly tingly all over—you croon, like a cow, when the commander lifts your hips and eases inside your cunt only a short moment after—starting to pound you softly but deep enough to make your head hang and tongue drip with drool, moaning like an animal in its heat, all silly, like a mating-call, waiting for your womb to be fed with the same warmth.

He cups your buttcheeks with both his thumbs hooked within your ass, and still, he feels you tremble and cum without your clitty being touched—milking him for his spend, begging him with your tongue out in sweet mews. "Bleath, bleath, mathder~"

And although he can't see it from his position, it still makes him smile. “That’s right, dumb little elf-pet. Beg, and you will be fed.”

You clench up and throttle when he finally blows, and the warmth swarms your gushy insides in heavenly goo—leaving you feeling cozy from the inside out—cross-eyed and panting in utter ecstasy.

He also waits—waits until his cum takes root and his cock unswells for a good minute or two before pulling out with a throaty sigh. Then he rounds the pillory, a heavy step at a time, until his lousy and still steaming cock is met face to face with your sweaty flush-cheeked expression.

“Still hungry, elf-girl?” he asks, jostling the sloppy member against your equally drowsy face. “Or was it thirsty?”

He picks your chin up with a hand, holding it steady while watching your half-mast and glazed heart-eyes lazily blink up at him—grinning and humming at the sight.

“Tell me, elf-pet, which of it was it you were whining about?”

Drool spills from your mouth as you answer, speech slurred like a drunken degenerate, “Both~”

He clicks his tongue, “Spoiled.” But he doesn’t seem angry—no, rather pleased. “You’ve been well-fed for now—time to wash it down.”

He lifts his heavy slug and puts the numb tip to your lips, which eagerly parts wide for him to press inside softly, filling the drizzly cavern, cockhead resting neatly on the wet bed of your tongue. 

You obediently await it with your eyes locked onto his—both moaning once it comes. Hot and salty-sweet, it pours onto your tongue and sloshes down your throat, spilling from your mouth and somehow splashing all over your face—making you shudder in warm bliss as you gulp it down as if it’s in another class from the aged wine back home.

“Drink, elf-slave. Drink and be grateful,” he instructs, and you obey, allowing the piss-stream to hit the back of your throat where you could glug it all down with minimal spill.

When it stopped, you sucked his tip and tongued the slit like before, cleaning it dry of the last drop, saying, “Thank you—thank you, master.”

Elves never cease to surprise him. Always so prissy—high and mighty creatures—and yet they fall the farthest from grace when pushed. 

He had many different ideas on how to make an example of you to the others—cease any ideas they might have of uproar and rebellion. Leave you here for the ogres and trolls to come and have their sloppy seconds. Tie you up by your ankles and drag you behind the horses through all the muck. Let the rest of his troops have at you until you met with your unfortunate end.

But no. He thinks not.

“Let’s move—” he announces to the camp. “Time to take our bounty home.”

After all, for all your whining, you did have a point earlier—you elves are only good to them alive and well. Best get you to the nearest market and sell you.

The guards unfix you from the pillory and start hauling your collapsed form back to the cage.

“No, not her,” he corrects them, thinking of your pretty eyes and soft tongue and that pretty elf cunt that milked him dry like none other. “She rides with me.”

On bearback, he ties your hands around his neck and lets you sleep with your head on his chest, riding backward with your legs draped over his—still naked with your cum-belly leaking out over his saddle—making a mess he’ll have you lick clean later.

“Tell me if you get hungry again, little elf,” he sneers, though a little fondly. “I’ll feed you again.”

And you, despite groggy, with eyes closed, mumble back dumbly, “Thank you, master.”

♡ PART TWO

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Enji, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku ♡ HxH – Uvogin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[mide404]

This is how my family has come to live a life resembling hell in the displacement camps. They live a life filled with misery and suffering after the war destroyed their simple home, which was filled with beautiful memories. Yes, now they live in a tent that you can barely see as a small enclosed spot, a torn life that bears nothing of its name, with continuous sorrow and pain hitting them constantly. The pieces of fabric surrounding the tent speak to narrate a new chapter from a book titled "Tragedy in the Land of Pain and Sorrows..."

Just by looking into my mother's eyes, you can see that all the world's calamities have been placed upon her head. It's as if life's circumstances conspired against my family to take away my father, the beacon of strength and support for them, and cruelly snatched my brother's daughter and my sister's daughter for no reason. Despite all that, these circumstances did not stop there and showed no mercy to what remained of my family but went on to demolish their home, which used to bring us together and held our simple memories.

Until they became homeless in the displacement camps that offer no mercy and do not provide the basic necessities of life, lacking in privacy, their world turned black when they found themselves displaced from their homes, sometimes wrapping themselves in hardship and at other times sipping on misery. They endure the harshness of life, living under the sun's heat, with nothing to protect them but a pile of junk. This has become their daily routine: waking up in the morning to stand in water lines to get the bare minimum of water, then striving to find a morsel of food until night falls, which was supposed to be a time of rest, but it seems life has written suffering upon them. As soon as they close their eyes, they wish they could keep one eye open, fearing the treachery of rodents that might attack them... This is part of the suffering my family endures in the displacement camps under oppressive conditions and an unparalleled tragic situation.

I, Mahmoud Saleh, appeal to you to look upon my torn and displaced family with mercy and grant them the opportunity to continue their lives in peace. I stand now before these compassionate hearts, full of hope to help what remains of my family and provide a better living condition for them, so they can enjoy safety and peace.

[salahmanarfamily]

🚨🚨VERY DANGEROUS PLEASE DON'T SKIP

My little daughter, Nour, seven years old, now bears the scars of the cruel war on her face.

🔴Her face suffered a painful burn from a tragedy that could have been avoided if it weren’t for the lack of basic resources and the absence of electricity.

This incident makes me wonder: how long will we remain prisoners of these circumstances?

How can our children live their lives in the absence of the most basic necessities?

The war didn’t just burn my daughter’s face; it burned her innocent dreams of being a normal child who loves life.

It also burned our hearts, as we stand helpless, unable to provide her with a better future.

PLEASE HELP MY CHILDREN

PLEASE SHARE OR DONATE 🙏

MY COMPIGEN HAS BEEN VERIFIED BY @90-ghost . @gazavetters [48]. BUTTERFLY EFFECT PROJECT LINE [944].

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[22ayla21]

The Shadow of a Mother, the Light of Love

The capricious blood of Maleonor makes itself known once more. The elderly lady of the Draconia lineage, a grieving mother and strict keeper of traditions, is forced to accept that love and stubbornness are a legacy one cannot escape, even across generations.

Silence reigned in the castle halls, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. By the window, in an armchair, sat an elderly woman. Even in her old age, she retained a regal air. Her hair was neatly gathered, and a heavy emerald cloak bearing the Draconia family crest draped from her shoulders.

In her hands, she held an old doll – once the beloved toy of her daughter.

"Maleonor…" she whispered, clutching the doll. "You are still causing us scenes… only now through your son."

The elder of the clan, Malleus's grandmother, had seen much. Wars, palace intrigues, betrayals, losses – all had been part of her life. But nothing had caused her such pain as the death of her only daughter.

Maleonor had been like a whirlwind. Beautiful, daring, dangerous. Incredibly impulsive, headstrong – it seemed not blood, but fire flowed in her veins. And yet – or perhaps because of it – she was loved. But also feared.

How many times had the Senate begged her to be more careful? How many nights had the old woman spent in tears as Maleonor threw tantrums, wondering where she had gone wrong in raising her daughter?

And now… her grandson.

Her only hope. The last link to her own blood.

Malleus.

He resembled her to a painful degree.

When he came and said he had decided to marry a girl from another world – without noble lineage, without magic, without status – she wasn't even surprised.

"I chose her," he had said then. "She is my heart."

She could have objected. Reminded him of traditions, of duty, of the necessity of strong offspring, a worthy heir. But she remained silent.

Because she knew. He was as stubborn as his mother. Just as capricious, just as independent in his decisions. From his father, he had inherited kindness and wisdom. But the passion, the fire, the impatience – all of it was from Maleonor.

And if his mother were here now, she would, of course, exclaim: "I don't have to prove anything to anyone! I am the princess of the Briar Valley! My son is a dragon! And he will love whomever he wants!"

The woman closed her eyes. She could still hear that voice. Sometimes in her dreams, sometimes – in Malleus's voice when he argued with the Senate, defending his beloved.

And now, as the sound of ringing children's laughter echoed through the castle, a bitter, ironic smile appeared on her lips.

"There's your grandson, Maleonor…" she whispered. "You left, leaving a storm. And now – a new tempest."

There was a knock at the door.

"Grandmother?" a familiar voice called.

She turned. Malleus stood in the doorway. Beside him stood a boy – with his mother's eyes, but with Malleus's own stubborn expression.

"We wanted to visit you."

"I've been waiting," she replied, and for the first time in a long time, her voice trembled.

When her grandson burst into the room, creating a real commotion, she… didn't stop them. Because in this chaos, there was life, light.

"You are just like your mother," she murmured, looking at Malleus. "How many times I cursed her for her whims… and how many times I forgave her. Just as I forgive you now."

Malleus leaned down and said quietly, "I understand her better with each passing day. And I understand why she was the way she was. Love makes us inconvenient for the world. But strong."

She chuckled.

"You are her child. To the end. But now you are a father. And I hope… you can preserve what she lacked."

"Family?"

"Wisdom," she replied. "And if your queen managed to tame you, then she has a talent worthy of a crown."

He smiled.

"She is my destiny. As I am hers."

The boy burst into laughter as he tried to climb onto the sofa opposite her. And all she could do was laugh in response.

"Damn you, Maleonor," she whispered. "Even from the afterlife, you manage to create a circus in my living room."

But tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. And for the first time in a long time – not from grief, but from gratitude. For the continuation. For the blood. For life.

[ahmedsal-1qa]

The Rising Cost of Living in Gaza: A Struggle for Basic Necessities Amid War and Blockade

The ongoing conflict in Gaza, coupled with the harsh realities of an enduring blockade, has resulted in a humanitarian crisis marked by an unprecedented rise in the cost of living. This has made it nearly impossible for families to afford even the most basic necessities. The image provided vividly illustrates the plight of ordinary people, where the prices of everyday essentials have soared to alarming levels, further exacerbating the hardships of survival.

For instance, a single bottle of sunflower oil now costs an outrageous $14.72. A single kilogram of sugar is priced at $9.37, while a kilogram of bulgur wheat stands at $8.83. Shockingly, the price of one potato or one onion is $8.03 each, reflecting how even the most basic vegetables are becoming unaffordable. Other necessities such as tahini are marked at $13.38, a small bar of soap costs $5.89, and butter is priced at $4.01. These prices not only highlight the severity of inflation but also reveal the harsh impact of scarcity and restricted imports due to the blockade.

The economic devastation caused by years of war and isolation has crippled Gaza’s local industries, leading to widespread unemployment and poverty. Families are left struggling to meet their daily needs, while children, the elderly, and the sick bear the brunt of this humanitarian disaster. Healthcare, clothing, and adequate shelter are becoming distant dreams for many, particularly as winter approaches.

This situation demands urgent action from the global community. Efforts to lift the blockade, ensure the supply of essential goods, and provide financial aid must be prioritized to alleviate the suffering of those in Gaza.

I urge you to take a stand in solidarity with the people of Gaza. My family, like countless others, is struggling to survive these harsh conditions. You can help by donating to our campaign or simply sharing it with others to raise awareness. Together, we can bring hope and support to those in need.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is (#280)✅️

[mnsooraljizawi]

Hello everyone, I hope you are well 👋👋

I am Mansour Subhi Al-Jizawi, a citizen of Gaza. I come to you with a broken heart and ask for help for me and my family...

I am writing to you and asking for help in any way to restore what the occupation has destroyed since October 7, 2023.So that I and my family can survive the war and save the rest of our lives because Gaza has become uninhabitable. There is no longer a suitable place to live. There is no solution other than evacuation to survive... but unfortunately the price of evacuation from Gaza is very expensive... and we cannot bear these costs. There is no solution but to help you by donating, sharing our story, or praying for us....

I am talking to you, and after thinking for a long time before taking this step, but I realized that there is nothing left for us in Gaza after the occupation destroyed all its property, our property, our dreams and our future...so I came to you and I am full of hope from you that your donations will cover the cost of survival. Evacuation to a better life....

The occupation destroyed our home, our dreams, and the buildings of my family and I to live in tents after it ordered and forced us to evacuate from northern Gaza. Currently, we live in a camp in the Zawaida area, and this is the ninth displacement since the seventh of October of the past year, 2023. Struggling daily to obtain clean water and food. And the rest of the necessities of life, despite the high prices that make us struggle more to obtain them...

We are 4 people, the number of people in my family. My father, Subhi Mustafa Al-Gizawi, is 60 years old and currently without any income and does not work for any institution. He has a heart disease and a stroke as well, and needs daily treatment, but due to the difficulty of the situation, he is sometimes not available in the country, and this makes him even more weak. More because of the lack of treatment

and my mother Mervat Bassam Al-Jizawi, 54 years old, also suffers from high blood pressure and colon, which caused her to undergo operations because of the pain that comes from the colon. She also needs medicine, and this medicine is not available and is expensive...

I am Mansour Subhi Al-Jizawi, 20 years old. I did not receive a university education because of the war. The occupation destroyed my future and left me without a future. I was injured in the 2014 war, and the effects of the injury are still present, and the shrapnel is still stuck in my body 💔

My brother, Tamer Sobhi Al-Gizawi, has been missing since the beginning of the war, and we do not know anything about him..

The remnants of this war are that our house was destroyed and uninhabitable, and our car was completely destroyed.

In conclusion: I hope that receiving my message is very important to you, and that it will make a difference for the Palestinians in need 💔🙏

God bless you all...

[bilal-salah0]

Here’s Haya’s story

I am Haya. The war has completely destroyed our lives, forcing us to leave our homes and live in places that are not ours. Today, I bear the heavy burdens of life alone—rent, food, and water—to support my mother and sister here in Egypt, while the fate of the rest of my family in Gaza remains unknown. There, they live under the threat of annihilation, deprived of the basic necessities of a dignified life. The occupation forced us from our homes, pushing us into refugee camps that lack even the simplest needs. Winter is approaching, and the tents cannot protect us from the bitter cold. We suffer from severe food shortages, and the water they drink is polluted and unsafe. We are in desperate need of financial support to save the lives of our family and loved ones.

Vetted by me @bilal-salah0

@familyrantise2003

[jaberfamily]

The Rising Cost of Living in Gaza: A Struggle for Basic Necessities Amid War and Blockade

The ongoing conflict in Gaza, coupled with the harsh realities of an enduring blockade, has resulted in a humanitarian crisis marked by an unprecedented rise in the cost of living. This has made it nearly impossible for families to afford even the most basic necessities. The image provided vividly illustrates the plight of ordinary people, where the prices of everyday essentials have soared to alarming levels, further exacerbating the hardships of survival.

For instance, a single bottle of sunflower oil now costs an outrageous $14.72. A single kilogram of sugar is priced at $9.37, while a kilogram of bulgur wheat stands at $8.83. Shockingly, the price of one potato or one onion is $8.03 each, reflecting how even the most basic vegetables are becoming unaffordable. Other necessities such as tahini are marked at $13.38, a small bar of soap costs $5.89, and butter is priced at $4.01. These prices not only highlight the severity of inflation but also reveal the harsh impact of scarcity and restricted imports due to the blockade.

The economic devastation caused by years of war and isolation has crippled Gaza’s local industries, leading to widespread unemployment and poverty. Families are left struggling to meet their daily needs, while children, the elderly, and the sick bear the brunt of this humanitarian disaster. Healthcare, clothing, and adequate shelter are becoming distant dreams for many, particularly as winter approaches.

This situation demands urgent action from the global community. Efforts to lift the blockade, ensure the supply of essential goods, and provide financial aid must be prioritized to alleviate the suffering of those in Gaza.

I urge you to take a stand in solidarity with the people of Gaza. My family, like countless others, is struggling to survive these harsh conditions. You can help by donating to our campaign or simply sharing it with others to raise awareness. Together, we can bring hope and support to those in need.

✅ My Campaign ✅ 🔍Vetted by @90-ghost here 🔍Vetted by association in this post

Paypal Link

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[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Reflections of Shame

Summary - She faces the scorn of Prince Jacaerys, who despises her for what she represents. Their bitter confrontation unravels pain, and understanding begins to form as threads of trust emerge between them. What starts with venom transforms into something far more complex.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - Mild language

Word count - 2265

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Before the war had sunk its claws into the Targaryen family, sinking its teeth like a ravenous beast, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had never been anything but courteous—a princely figure who embodied grace and nobility. 

To imagine him now as anything less, let alone openly cruel, was once inconceivable. 

Yet here he was, transformed by conflict and burdened by suspicion and scorn, glaring down at me with eyes that held a tempest.

Of course, I was no ordinary maiden. I was a dragon seed, a name whispered with equal parts reverence and scorn. 

I had stumbled, quite literally, into destiny when I claimed the mighty Silverwing after wandering through a forgotten passageway. 

To many, I was a mystery; to others, an interloper with dragon fire in my veins. 

And to the prince, I was an affront. His disdain cloaked itself in subtle barbs and carefully metered sneers, each one laced with contempt that cut deeper than any sword.

Seated beside me was Hugh Hammer, a man whose reputation was also unknown. 

We spoke quietly of our dragons, two strangers drawn together by scales, fire, and circumstance. It was a curious sight—Hugh, a man of brute strength and feral ambition, sharing words with someone like me, a newcomer and a woman who still struggled to understand her place. 

Our dragons were as different as night and day, but in that moment, their riders shared a fragile bond of necessity.

The conversation stilled as the great doors opened, announcing the arrival of Queen Rhaenyra and her heir. 

Instinctively, I rose, fumbling only slightly as I dipped into a curtsy. 

My new gown of silken red clung to me with a weight I was not yet used to, a reminder of expectations I barely understood. 

The queen's presence commanded silence; her gaze swept the room, hard and implacable. She summoned Hugh with a gesture, and he departed with a bow, leaving me alone with the prince.

"My Prince," I greeted, my voice even as I lowered myself back onto the bench. 

Prince Jacaerys did not move, standing opposite me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. 

He observed me as if I were an unwelcome spectre—a ghost he could not banish and a burden he resented bearing.

For several agonizing moments, silence stretched between us. I forced myself to breathe, clasping my hands tightly to quell the trembling. 

"Is something the matter, my prince?" I ventured, keeping my tone light and respectful, though every muscle in my body tensed in anticipation.

His jaw clenched, and his eyes, dark and stormy, narrowed further. When he spoke, his voice was low and laced with venom. "Stop pretending."

The words struck like a whip. My breath caught, my pulse quickened, and I stared at him in stunned silence. 

This was no simple rebuke—it was an accusation, one that peeled away every fragile layer of decorum I had tried to build around myself. 

In his eyes, I was a fraud, a pretender who had dared to step into the realm of dragons. And no matter how much I tried to deny it, he would never let me forget that I was unwelcome.

The silence between us lingered, thick and suffocating, as I struggled to find my composure. 

Prince Jacaerys's eyes burned with barely restrained fury, his words heavy with disdain. 

Each passing second seemed to stretch into an eternity, and I knew whatever came next would cut me deeply, but I couldn't allow myself to falter. 

No matter how venomous his words, I had to endure them. 

A show of disrespect now could ruin me, perhaps even lead to consequences that no amount of pleading would undo.

His lips curled into a sneer. "You walk around this castle as if you belong here," he said, his tone like a blade. "Claiming a dragon does not make you one of us. You're nothing more than an intruder playing at power."

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my hands trembling only slightly as they remained clasped in my lap. 

"I have done nothing but follow the orders given to me, my prince," I said quietly. "I mean no offence."

He stepped closer, looming over me. "Is that what you tell yourself? That you belong among those of true blood? That you're entitled to walk these halls and speak with queens and princes as if you are their equal?"

His words landed like blows, each one harder than the last. I wanted to look away, to shrink from his stare, but I could not afford to show weakness. 

"I have never claimed to be your equal," I said softly. "I am here only because of the dragon I was fortunate enough to bond with."

"Fortunate?" He scoffed, the derisive laughter echoing in the chamber. "You think this is fortune? No, you're a fool. A pretender who stumbled upon power she neither understands nor deserves."

My chest tightened, and I fought to keep my voice steady. "Why must you speak so cruelly to me? I have done nothing to earn your ire."

His eyes blazed with something beyond anger—something darker, more personal. "You breathe. You exist. That alone is offence enough."

For a moment, I could only stare at him, shock stealing the air from my lungs. 

He leaned closer, his words dripping with venom. "Tell me, what were you before all this? A whore? Did you find that life beneath you too?"

The insult struck me like a slap. I felt the blood drain from my face as I struggled to comprehend the depth of his malice. 

Swallowing hard, I forced myself not to react, even as his words twisted like a knife in my heart. 

"I do not know what I have done to warrant such hatred," I whispered, my voice cracking despite my best efforts. "Why be so cruel?"

His face twisted with rage, and for a brief, terrifying moment, I thought he might strike me. "Your entire existence upsets me!" he roared, the force of his words reverberating in the room.

Silence followed his outburst, the echo of his voice fading into nothingness. 

Tears burned at the edges of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I searched his gaze, trying to understand what could make him despise me so. 

"Why?" I whispered, the question escaping me unbidden. "Is it because I am a bastard... like you?"

At that, all colour drained from his face. He went utterly still, the rage in his eyes replaced by something cold and unreadable. 

For the first time, he was silent, and the room seemed to hold its breath. I watched him, waiting for another cruel word, another strike—but none came. 

Instead, he turned away, the storm in him retreating, leaving only the aching quiet between us.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The hours after the confrontation with Prince Jacaerys passed slowly, every moment weighed down by the memory of his scorn. 

I retreated to the solitude of my chambers, the heavy stone walls feeling more oppressive than ever. His words had echoed in my mind, each cruel syllable burrowing deep. 

Despite my best efforts, tears had fallen as I paced the room, replaying every jab, every moment of contempt in his eyes. 

I had thought myself strong enough to endure anything, but I was beginning to doubt.

Night fell, cloaking Dragonstone in shadow. The faint flicker of torchlight cast dancing shapes on the walls as I sat by the window, staring out at the distant stars. 

I did not hear the soft footsteps until it was too late. A knock at the door made me startle, and my heart leapt to my throat. 

Before I could answer, it opened, revealing the last person I wanted to see. Prince Jacaerys stepped inside, his features half-lit by the flickering light, and closed the door behind him.

Instinctively, I rose to my feet, every muscle tensed. "My prince," I managed, forcing a politeness I did not feel. "What brings you here at this hour?"

His expression was a mixture of regret and something else—something raw, unguarded. 

For a long moment, he said nothing, his gaze shifting around the room before settling on me. "I owe you an apology," he said at last, his voice rough. "I was... unforgivably cruel."

I stared at him, stunned. I had imagined many responses from him, but this was not one of them. 

"You made your feelings quite clear," I replied, my words cautious, careful. "Why apologize now?"

He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his dark hair. "Because I was wrong," he said, his tone raw with emotion. "And because you deserve better than the words I flung at you."

I studied him, searching for the lie or the hidden barb, but all I saw was a man burdened by something heavy and painful. 

"Why?" I asked quietly. "Why do you hate me so?"

His jaw clenched, and he turned away, moving to the window. "It isn't you I hate," he said, his voice low. "Not truly. It's what you represent—a reminder of my own bastardy, of my mother's mistakes and the war that rages because of it." 

He paused, his shoulders tense. "When I look at you, I see every shadow I have tried to escape, every whisper of doubt that has haunted me since I was a child."

His admission left me breathless. I had expected bitterness, but not this raw vulnerability. 

"I never asked to be a reminder of your pain," I said softly. "All I wanted was to find my place here. To serve, to live."

He turned to me then, his eyes dark and unguarded. "I know." His voice was a whisper. "And I tried to make you small, to make you feel as worthless as I do when I think of what I am. It was wrong."

The weight of his confession pressed on my chest, and I took a hesitant step closer. 

"I am not here to be your enemy," I said. "I am not here to judge you for your birth, just as I hope you will not judge me for mine."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I will try," he said. "I cannot promise it will be easy. The shadows do not leave so easily."

"I understand," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

A fragile silence fell between us. I could feel the tension of unspoken words, of wounds barely healed and a thousand possibilities. 

When he moved closer, I did not step back. He reached for my hand, his touch hesitant, as if he expected me to pull away. When I didn't, he exhaled slowly. 

"You are stronger than I gave you credit for," he murmured. "And more than worthy."

There was something softer, something almost hesitant as if he was still grappling with the enormity of his own words.

"I have wronged you," he said quietly, his voice low but steady. "More deeply than I realized. And for that, I can only offer my apologies. Words alone are a poor substitute for the damage I have done."

I searched his face, trying to make sense of the change. "I... thank you, my prince. Your words mean more than you know."

A flicker of something—relief, perhaps—passed across his features, but it was fleeting. He stepped back, creating just enough distance that I felt like I could breathe again. 

"But words are not enough," he continued, a hint of determination hardening his voice. "I cannot change the past or erase what I have said, but I can try to make amends in other ways."

Confusion knit my brow. "Make amends? How?"

His lips curved, just barely, into a small, wry smile. "I would like to teach you," he said. "Myself."

"Teach me?" I echoed, unsure if I had heard him correctly. There was a tremor of disbelief in my voice. "What would you teach me?"

"Dragonriding," he said simply. "You have bonded with Silverwing, and that alone speaks of your strength and courage. But riding a dragon is more than just a bond. It is a skill, one that can mean the difference between victory and defeat in the skies. You deserve proper training."

I felt a surge of emotion—gratitude, disbelief, and even a flicker of hope—but I quickly shook my head. 

"I couldn't ask that of you. You are the heir. You have duties, responsibilities. There are far more important matters for you to attend to."

He stepped closer, the resolve in his gaze unyielding. "As heir, my duty is to protect the claim my mother fights for—and one day, my own. Ensuring that every dragon rider fighting for our cause is prepared is as important as any political duty. This war is not won by words and titles alone."

His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of urgency. He meant every word, and the weight of his conviction made it impossible to refuse. 

I met his gaze, feeling a strange and unexpected connection, an unspoken understanding that neither of us could deny. Slowly, I nodded.

"Very well," I said, my voice low but resolute. "If it is your wish, my prince."

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the prince I had once thought incapable of kindness or grace stood before me. "It is," he replied. "Tomorrow, then."

With that, he turned and walked toward the door, his footsteps quieter now, as if he carried less weight upon his shoulders. 

When he glanced back, his expression was unreadable—a mix of determination and something I dared not name. 

But I saw it: the beginnings of something fragile, a chance to build trust where only pain had stood.

I watched him leave, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

A/n - back to college now and im hanging on by threads x

[maacbrem]

Absolutely insane about the Thelyss brothers in Vasselheim cause like

Essek the Bright Queen is RIGHT THERE SIR PLEASE - but then, so is his brother, his little brother he probably still thinks of as a child because they were allowed to be children so briefly before anamnesis failed to come and they had to make something of themselves as new souls in an ancient Den, and Verin is the youngest Taskhand of Bazzoxan and a highly accomplished Echo Knight but he’s going to war??? Against aliens and would-be god killers and Ludinus Da’leth???? And Essek is a heretic fugitive and selfish to his bones, but he loved his brother even when he didn’t think he was capable of love at all, even if he wasn’t very good at it. So he stays in Vasselheim and he makes sure that these strange, awe-inspiring legendary heroes know his brother’s face, his voice, his armour, so that maybe if he falls one of them will deign to pick him up. He thinks about his friends, far from him now (Caleb, out of his reach and likely preparing to do something reckless but too brilliant to be called foolish), and looks at his brother, who will also go, who might never come back.

And Verin??? The youngest son of his Den, the second new soul prodigy by necessity who never really understood his brother but loved him anyway, who mourned their father so hard that he tried to become him by throwing himself against the endless hordes of the Hells, who now answers the call of all the gods and Exandria itself to fight a war with impossible odds, offering himself and his soldiers as potential cannon fodder so that the legendary heroes of the age might emerge victorious? I need to know how long he’s known what Essek did (because I know that Essek confessed and part of him hoped that Verin would condemn him, his righteous, devoted brother), and I need to know if Essek faked his death or just vanished, and I need to know if Verin wept for him. Verin who loves his people and his country and his god, who believes in things like faith and loyalty because he’s never really had cause not to, who has to find a way to believe in his brother, too. He learns to recognize this Archivist disguise and a few others that Essek favours, and he stops referring to his brother by name ever just so he doesn’t forget at the wrong moment, and he carries the beat-up booklet of Ashari poetry that he first learned to read Common from that still has child-Essek’s penmanship in the margins and he thinks about how seasons change and how winter doesn’t really kill, it just rests, and the process of a butterfly’s metamorphosis isn’t really that far off from the Luxon’s decree to become your ever-bettering self.

Essek doesn’t say “come back” but he does say “fight smart” and Verin knows what he means. Verin wraps him in a spine-cracking bear hug, uncomfortable in his armour but Essek has gotten better about physical affection in the past few years and one day Verin intends to thank the Mighty Nein personally for that. Verin says “stay sharp” and then quieter he says “i’ll see you again” and Essek hears ‘in this life or the next’ and he very calmly and sanely doesn’t start screaming, but he does press a pearl to Verin’s forehead (Caleb’s variation of the somatics, a useless bit of sentimentality made powerful that Essek adores). And then they have to part ways before Verin rejoins the Kryn contingent and Essek disappears back into the crowd, two brothers finally on the same side but unable to stand together.

Anyway, I think they’re neat.