#i DO think there’s a tiny bit of that feeling. i think if he had been alive when jaime got back there would have been some PROBLEMS.

[wonweige]

❝ 1852124 ❞ ✶ so I think he wants to be gentle with me ! ; not proofread — ignore typos </3 ++ reader (gn!) referred to as 'you'

with the way moze is so unresponsive, one would think he'd long since fallen victim to the warm embrace of slumber. head buried into a pillow, lying on his front, and eyes closed. his top half was bare and, after some a lot convincing, he wore loose pants for more comfort.

your fingers gently traced pattern on his back, the dim light of the lamp on the bedside table next to your side of the bed helping you properly see what you were doing.

he's very stiff, you note. even after that massage you had given him, he still remained tense and on high alert. always on guard, always ready.

sighing softly, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him back without much of a struggle and pressing him flush against your front. that made him give a small noise of confusion. rolling around, moze faced you, looking at you with those usually sharp eyes that soften just at the mere sight of you.

"do you want to sleep now?" he asks, and his confusion only grows as you just let out a tiny no. "is something bothering you?" he's trying his best to understand what you’re feeling, he really is, but he's not really doing the best job.

the effort counts, at least.

it dies down quickly, however, and he just lets you hold him close to you. the way your fingers run through his hair, nails gently grazing over his scalp, makes him feel like he's on cloud nine — your touch was just so addicting.

moze closes his eyes once more. he doesn't protest when your hand pulls his head into your shoulder, and he certainly doesn't protest when you press tender kisses onto every area you can reach in your current position.

just for a little bit, he thinks to himself, he will let himself relax.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

NIPPLE SENSITIVE ELVIS.

🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

A/N: This is Elvis on the set of Paradise, Hawaiian Style.

Pairing: Elvis x reader

Word count: 1.1K

TWs: Smut, nipple-play, Elvis is a little shy about his body.

You’re busy sewing up another pair of busted pants when you hear a knock at your door. 

“Come in!” You call out, cheerfully. 

Still looking down at your sewing, you don’t realise who it is until you hear the response. 

“Hey, uh, ma’am. I’ve come for another shirt. This one got wrecked in the last scene.”

Your foot presses down on the pedal and you nearly sew your own fingers into the pants. 

“Oh!” You exclaim, finally remembering that less pressure means the machine will slow down and taking your foot off entirely will make it stop. 

He gives you a bashful smile as you look up into his face. It really is Elvis Presley. You knew, but you had to look to check you hadn’t lost your mind entirely and just made him up. Of course you know he’s the main attraction on this movie set, but you’d assumed he’d have someone else to pick up an extra shirt for him. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean ta startle ya, ma’am.”

“Please don’t call me ma’am, Mr Presley. It makes me feel about 102.”

He chuckles. “Alright. If you agree not to call me Mr Presley. That’s my daddy. I’m Elvis.”

His smile is infectious and you grin back. “Okay, Elvis. Now what was it you asked me for?” You wrack your brain for the words he’d said a few seconds ago, but all you can hear is his honeyed Southern accent purring at you. There’s no content whatsoever. 

“Another shirt. This one…” he gestures to the shirt, and you see that it’s covered in mud and has a couple of holes, “...is lookin’ a bit of a mess.”

You nod, standing up and moving towards the rack of clothes designated for him. Flicking through them, you eventually find another of the same shirt and pass it to him. He smiles. 

“Thank ya, honey.”

He goes to leave and you call him back. “Elvis! You um… you should change now and give me the old one so I can fix it.” That isn’t strictly true, there’s no reason he can’t just give you the shirt later, but you want an excuse to make the interaction go on longer. He’s so handsome. 

He turns back and you swear there’s the hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Oh, uh… sure.” 

It seems like he’s debating telling you to turn around before he removes his shirt, so you look back down at your sewing. 

“I’ve made a real mess of this,” you tell him, as you sit back down and pull the fabric out of the machine, cutting the threads off and starting to look for a seam ripper. “You came in here and I just about forgot how to operate the machine!”

“I’m sorry honey,” he replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I shoulda warned ya before I came in.”

You smile and carry on looking down at your sewing, ripping the errant stitches out quickly. “Maybe.”

“But then I’d have liked a warnin’ that you’d be so pretty, too.”

You’re not expecting the words and you look up without thinking. He’s half-undressed, the old shirt off as he undoes the buttons on the new one. Your throat goes dry looking at him. He’s a little heavier than the photos you’d seen recently, and you can’t stop thinking about how much you’d like to bite that belly fat. 

“You’re a real charmer,” you whisper, your voice betraying you. 

He shrugs the shirt on, then starts to fiddle with doing up the buttons. “N-no, not a charmer,” he replies, the tiny stammer giving him away too. “I mean it, honey.”

You stand up, closing the distance between the two of you quickly to help him with the buttons. He’s not concentrating and they’re done up all wrong. 

“Here, let me.”

Your hands touch his and you almost feel like you’re on fire. His face is so close to yours you could kiss those big, bruised lips. As you rearrange the fabric you hear him make a little moan and your eyes snap up to his, questioningly. 

“Uhm…” he starts, awkwardly. You move the fabric again and the same thing happens, and then you look down and you’re sure you can see the outline of something in his pants. 

“What is it…?” You’re still trying to figure it out by repeating the movement when he almost squeals. 

“N-nipples.”

“Huh?”

He catches your hand in his to stop it from dragging the shirt over his nipple again. “M-my nipples… uh… they’re kinda s-s-sensitive.”

Your eyes widen with understanding and you start to unbutton his shirt with your other hand. Confused, he tries to stop you, but your fingers are too nimble and the next thing he knows your thumb is brushing one of his bare nipples gently but firmly. 

“Ohhhhh. Oh honey y-y-ya c-can’t…” he starts, but soon gives up on the rest of the sentence when you pinch him instead. “Fuck!”

“How sensitive?” You ask, manoeuvring him towards a chair and sitting him down. 

He blushes. “V-very. Honey, I haveta…”

Unable to quite believe the situation you’ve got yourself into, you just keep going, sitting on his lap and manipulating both nipples at once with your thumbs. His head tips back and he moans, and when you look down you can definitely see his hardness in his pants. 

“Can you…?” You don’t know how to ask politely, but he knows exactly what you mean, replying “yeah” huskily. 

The idea of him cumming through you touching his nipples makes you instantly wet, and you dip your head down to lick and suck on first one and then the other, enjoying the noises he makes as you do it. They’re very pink and erect when you’re finished, so you start to rub them more firmly, gripping and twisting when you hear his breathing get more erratic, his hips bucking up against you, desperate for contact. 

“Oh God,” you mumble, as his clothed dick rubs against the outside of your panties. 

He moans in return, and you can feel his hot breath against your cheek. “Honey I…” he begins, and then he’s cut off with another loud moan as you dip your head down again, this time to nibble on a nipple. 

He rubs himself against you one more time and then you hear a little yelp and a sigh, and when you look down there’s a wet patch spreading at his crotch. Grinning, you run your thumbs lightly over his nipples again and are rewarded with another, softer cry. His eyes meet yours and you notice him looking a little bashful, his face beautifully flushed. 

“Think we might need to get you some new pants too,” you tease. 

His awkward little smile turns into a grin and his hands move to grip your hips. 

“Not before I’ve returned the favour, honey.”

☆☆☆

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep @nebulamorada @iloveelvis2 @18lkpeters

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.219 Less strikes again

At some point, I tore myself away from my parents and left the cemetery feeling renewed and happy. On my way back home, I made a detour to the florist. I couldn't leave their graves looking empty and neglected like we didn't care. Quite the contrary. I even bought nice headstones and put portraits on their plots. Too bad I didn't have a big enough picture for grandpa Winston. I'd really love to meet him one day, but I think he may have crossed over already. At least I have tiny pictures at home to look at and see where some of my features come from.

Alessia called, saying she wanted to talk. That meant she needed to get out of the house, so I sent Sophia a text saying I would be back later that night. At first, I thought we'd grab dinner, but Less and I hadn't gone out together in ages. We needed to make it count, so I suggested we go to a bar for old time's sake. We met at The Solar Flare in Oasis Springs, and she began telling me about this man she'd been talking to.

His name is Brent Peters, and he rents a trailer in Oasis Springs. He likes horses, is obsessed with vampires, loves a good argument, and hates smart asses. He also hates comedy, idealists, troublemakers, knitting, and rock climbing. So far, he sounded like a very interesting character, and I wanted to know more. She said in his younger days he had a bit of trouble of his own, often getting caught stealing. He got help, but every day is a struggle to resist that urge. They bonded over their love for athleticism. She thought it was a silly to appreciate, but she loved he didn't mind her being a homebody. Whatever she wanted to do, he was into it, and she loved that. I couldn't imagine Alessia ever changing herself to please someone, but I knew exactly how it felt to be loved and accepted by someone despite your flaws and shortcomings, and I was glad she had that. She said he's loyal to her, and they are taking things slow. As much as I loved to hear that, I still had concerns.

"He sounds wonderful for you, but... Like, how do you know he's not after your money?"

"Luca... I know you're concerned because of what happened last time, but this isn't that. Me and Jase bonded over stupid, meaningless stuff. Brent and I talk about real things. And I'm older and wiser now. But you, of all people, should understand how putting yourself out there involves risks. You moved in with Sophia after one date, and you didn't even want to be in a relationship. But you took the risk. The point here is I'm ready to take risks again. I don't know if Brent is after my money, or if he will kill me in my sleep, or if he'll run off with another woman. I'm still getting to know him, but I don't think he will. But I'll never know unless I try."

I say this every time I'm around her, but she has grown so much, and I love to see it. I still had concerns, but there was nothing left to say.

"Also, I'm moving out tomorrow."

"What?? Why?"

"I appreciate everything you've done for me. And I love how fiercely you protect me. But I need to handle things on my own now. All my life, I've had a safety net. Even when I moved out, I was living with that family. Someone has always taken care of me, and I feel like I owe it to myself, and my children, to be truly independent. I can't teach them what I've never done, so I need to go. I don't want you to make a big deal and throw a party or something. Just let us go quietly, please."

This is just like Mt. Komorebi all over again. She arrives at conclusions super fast and is compelled to action them even faster.

"But... What about the kids? Desi loves playing with them. And I love hanging out with them, too."

"That can still happen! It'll just require more effort now."

"Where are you going, anyway?"

"San Myshuno, for now."

That was the last place I pictured her living. Seems like the hustle and bustle would send her paranoia up the roof. But, renting an apartment is a good situation for her. Even though she wants to be independent, homeownership is a whole 'nother beast, not for the faint of heart.

"I'm gonna miss you, sis. I've really enjoyed getting to know this adult version of you. Can we make sure to do better at keeping in touch?"

"You better, big head."

[torukmaktoskxawng]

the song lives on

Summary: Aha'ri Lives AU!

Dedication to: @inolaphoenix for coming up with the idea and brainstorming with me!

Word Count: 1.9k+

Pairing: None (mainly focused on the Sarentu siblings)

Warnings: gn!reader, angst, PTSD, violence, children of neglect/abuse, mentions of brainwashing and residential school trauma, open-ended ending with the intent of writing more 😉

Taglist: @mooniequeen @anemonelovesfiction @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter @daisyyvoid

A/N: Happy Birthday, Inola 💙🥰

~~~~~~~~~

You hardly recognized your sister.

Aha'ri, so brave and fierce, whittled down into a small, scared child, just like you, only this time... it left her physically scarred.

Mercer's shot had left the young Na'vi girl in and out of consciousness, the medics barely able to keep her stable. It was bad enough the TAP personnel didn't appear to care about the children's needs, but their welfare? It was hardly even on the list. No one in the med bay was prepared to treat a Na'vi child with a bullet wound in her back. Sure, they had the means to treat a human, no problem, but a Na'vi? Who's body didn't react to the same medicine and treatment a human's would? You would think, that if TAP were going to house Na'vi children as Alma was teaching, they would be better prepared for it.  

There will be a time when, once you get older, you will come to accept that no one in TAP ever cared enough to learn or do better. But for now, you're scared, innocent, and confused. Why was no one bandaging Aha'ri right away? Why are they poking and prodding at her wound and wondering out loud about how a bullet affects the Na'vi body?

You hardly slept. Barely anyone did. Ri'nela managed to get Teylan to shut his eyes for a few hours, but the occasional twitch in his tail told everyone he never truly slept.

Aha'ri was in and out of surgeries for a week before she finally turned a corner. Alma informed you and the other children of this with a quiet voice, explaining that Aha'ri would have a scar, but she would live.

Alma's version of "living" was breathing and moving around. But to a Na'vi, the way Aha'ri looked when she returned to school, that wasn't living. From then on, she was simply surviving. 

She was a shell, her eyes almost always bearing a one-thousand-yard stare, empty of any warm emotions. She didn't sing or hum, and never mentioned your mother when you tried to prompt her in an attempt to see a small spark of life in her once more. Nothing. 

The scar was on her back. A round, small bullet-shaped wound that made her wince every time she moved her left arm while it was still healing. If any personnel dropped the temperature of the children's room, she would whine and softly cry to herself from how badly the muscles in her back and arm would spasm and ache. Now, whenever she sees someone with a gun, even if it were strapped to their hip, Aha'ri would flinch and curl in on herself.

Mercer had made his warning loud and clear. Next time, she would not be so lucky.

It took months for her to fully heal physically, but once she did... something subtly shifted in her eyes. A small, tiny spark of warmth returned, and you hardly had time to feel relieved to have a small part of your sister back, let alone question it. You were so relieved, in fact, you missed the small bit of determination that returned to Aha'ri's spirit. 

Neither you nor Teylan was prepared for the abrupt wakening in the middle of the night, months after Mercer had shot Aha'ri. 

"Come," Aha'ri spoke softly, even gracing you with a small, familiar smile, "We're leaving."

"What...?" You questioned while rubbing your eyes, your brain not entirely caught up with your surroundings.

"B-B-But we can't!" Teylan whimpers from his bed, where Ri'nela quietly soothes him. "I-I-If... if the same thing happens again-!"

"It won't," Ri'nela shushes with an encouraging smile, "There is another way out of here, Teylan."

"It is time to go home," Nor spoke sternly, more confident than ever. His own personality had shifted since Aha'ri's injury.

The three older Na'vi children led you and Teylan up into the TAP facility's vents, hands gripping pillowcases full of carefully collected supplies from the months they had spent planning a more thorough escape. Ri'nela had expressed patience over the months while Nor was anxious for Aha'ri to heal so they could get a move on. Ri'nela would take a little bit of food here and there during meal times, stowing that and any little bit of supplies up in the vent above her bed to preserve until the moment was right. If any human at the facility noticed they were missing a small bandage here and a compass there, they always chalked it up to misplacement, none the wiser.

Nor managed to distract his eagerness by keeping a close watch on the guards, something that Harding had unintentionally taught him between lessons where she'd force him to hold a gun. Timing their patrols and shifts, Nor eventually saw a small window of time when hardly anyone would be walking by the children's rooms at night, a small flaw that Harding would be furious to whoever designed the patrol schedule, which made Nor internally smug. He made sure the same window of time happened for a full week before sharing this small information with Ri'nela and Aha'ri, vowing to himself to be more thorough so the last escape attempt wouldn't repeat itself.  

As for Aha'ri, she dutifully played her role to perfection. Yes, her traumatic experience and her injury had changed her, but she exaggerated it a little more than she had originally felt. Sure, she would spend years later flinching at the sound of a gunshot, but her will to survive overpowered any fear she had gained after Mercer had shot her. She wanted him to believe he had won, so she kept her head down, her eyes drifting off to stare at the walls as if no one else was in the room. She had let Mercer believe he had broken her, despite his appalling actions further strengthening her.

The vents were large enough for the children to walk through, only having to bow their heads slightly to fit. There were some tight spots where they would have to carefully and quietly crouch down and crawl, hardly breathing if they passed over a vent and noticed humans walking beneath them. Otherwise, part of their natural Na'vi instincts kicked in, their tails keeping them balanced while their feet kept them quiet, sharp ears twitching at any unknown sound.

Finally, Nor stopped and held out a hand to the rest who traveled behind him, his voice barely above a whisper, "Teylan."

The youngest Na'vi child slowly crawled over to the other boy's side, peering down through a vent to follow Nor's gaze. Beneath them was a hallway, and attached to a wall was a control panel that was obviously meant for the double doors beside it. Upon observing the doors, Teylan recognized it to be the entrance to the mess hall.

"The next patrol meant to pass our rooms will come from there," Nor explained quietly, "Can you lock the doors to buy us some more time?"

Teylan lowered his ears, and his big eyes widened with fear. "I can't do that! We'll be caught!"

"Shh!" Nor hissed, small fangs bared, "We'll be caught if you do not keep your voice down. Can. You. Do. It."

"Y-Yes, I can do it, but not from up here."

"If you went down?"

"I-I-I-I can't go down there... they'll see me."

"I have watched these boring Sky People walk these exact same hallways for days. I promise they will not even be around to see you," Nor snarled, beginning to grow impatient, "Not unless you continue to delay."

"I will go with you, Teylan," Aha'ri's hand gently settles on Teylan's shoulders.

Nor's ears stick straight up in alarm, and his eyes fix on Aha'ri, crouched behind Teylan. "No. I will go with him. Keep a watch on us from above."

The boys cautiously, so very gingerly, remove the vent cover and pass it over to the girls before quietly jumping down, their feet meeting the cold floor of the hallway. Their ears move wildly in search of any sound in either direction as they sneak over to the control panel. Once at the screen, Teylan is quick at work, starting to relax once in his element, efficiently locking the doors to the mess hall before slinking back around until the open vent is just above his head. Nor is close behind him and helps lift Teylan back up into the vent before closely following suit with one big leap and Ri'nela swiftly closes the vent once more.

With one more obstacle out of the way, the kids begin to get a little eager, the taste of freedom just at the tip of their tongues. Pressing forward through the vents with less quiet steps, the Sarentu children can feel their hearts racing in their chests and hear them pounding in their ears. Even after buying themselves a little bit of time, they didn't want to take any chances in case Mercer got the drop on them once more.

There's a large, sealed-tight door within the vents, separating the oxygen within the facility from the carbon dioxide and other lethal elements in the outside world the children were told about in Alma's lessons. Teylan makes quick work of this door as well, and by this point, Nor shouts at everyone to break into a run in this final leg of their race. The exit, a large vent that leads out into the world of Pandora, is close at hand and looms over all of their heads. Once right at the foot of it, Nor eagerly takes a screwdriver out from Ri'nela's pillowcase and begins to unscrew all the corners of the large vent.

Aha'ri's grip on your hand momentarily slips. As she whips her head back around in a panic, she finds herself staring at wide, tear-filled eyes. You tug and pull on her hand desperately, stepping back down the way you came, "Wait! We forgot sa'nu's songcord!"

Your older sister relents for a moment, the horrible reminder that Mercer kept your mother's songcord as a trophy around his wrist still hung heavily in her heart. With as much sorrow as she could afford, she gently grasped both of your little shoulders in her hands, making you look her dead in the eyes, "We can not go back for it. We have to go."

"But we will forget her--"

"No, never," she said firmly, and with a determination you had not seen in her eyes in a very long time, "We never will forget, so long as we have the song she sang to us. We may not remember the words, but we can still sing the songs of our people."

"I got it!" Nor happily exclaims, disbelief in his words as the vent comes free and falls outside, the clatter it makes drowned out by the rush of noises that fills the children's ears. 

Bright light surrounds all of you, forcing you to put your hands in front of your eyes before they can adjust. Blinking, you lower your hand and you're met with a vast, enormous jungle, heavily encompassed in vegetation and wildlife. The colors... nothing like you have ever seen before, taking your breath away and distracting you even as Aha'ri takes hold of your hand once more. You finally tear your gaze away from what awaits you, meeting your sister's eyes as she smiles softly.

"Come. Our home is waiting for us."

Whatever you find in her gaze brings a newly found bravery in your chest. You take a deep breath and firmly nod with a small pout on your little face. Together, and with your friends, you and Aha'ri jump out of the vent and sprint as quickly as possible into the world of Pandora, the leaves and branches of the trees stretching out when the wind picks up as if the Great Mother was opening her arms out to you in relief that you are home once more.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Main Masterlist Here! If Inola and I brainstorm more on the potential of this story I may write more, so keep an eye out for that! Thank you for reading, and thank you Inola for always being a caring and supportive mutual. I'm so thankful that we've become friends 🥰 Happy Birthday!

[thearcherbrothersx]

Her hands went to her hips and Declan, who was usually so damned serious that the weight of the situation should have prevented it, felt an involuntary twitch of his lips. Because she looked downright adorable right now, and somehow that worked - in tandem with the cute little attempt to middle-name him - to soften so much of the situation that he merely arched a brow at her tone. "Hm," his head tilted slightly as he watched her. "I don't think I've ever been called an idiot before." A lot of other things, sure, some from people he'd been involved with business-wise, but most of them the courtesy of his ex wife. Idiot though, that one was new.

"Cora," he tried to cut in gently at one point in her tirade, but she barrelled on ahead, so he tried a second time. And when that didn't work, he just watched her again, quiet, his eyes softening gradually. That bit of amusement from before had disappeared when she mentioned her interaction with Jackson. And this time, he didn't even reach out to wipe at her tears.

He shook his head lightly at the end. "Cora." This time he spoke her name firmly, making sure to cut through, to make it clear that he had something to say before she decided to start back up again. "Firstly, I wasn't suggesting that you were attempting to end anything. I was suggesting that maybe I'm not what you need right now, and I'm trying to tell you - poorly, apparently - that it's okay if I'm not. But we are what we are. I am your Dominant, you are my submissive. It's not all we are, but I understand if you currently feel that way, even if it means you need to be elsewhere." He reached out, took her hand and pulled her closer, smoothly shifting his grip to take hold of her tear-stained face instead. "I can also see, however, that I need to explain something to you."

His gaze intensified a little as he looked into her eyes then, and as if something had shifted his shields out of place, she'd be able to catch a glimpse of the fury raging on inside him. "You do belong with me. You are mine. And someone violated that, violated you - and walked away unscathed." His fingers tightened a little on her face, like he was trying to keep her from running away as he continued. "And I do consider a broken nose walking away unscathed, Cora. Understand that. Understand that I am going to make sure he knows that touching you was the worst mistake of his miserable life." At that last sentence, something cold had seeped into his tone, something cold and hard and razor sharp. Then he leaned in, bringing his nose to within an inch of hers, and his voice softened once more, as did his gaze. He gave a tiny shake of his head, addressing her comment from earlier: "The lines are already blurred, Cora. And where you sleep tonight, whether it's here or in my bed - can't possibly do anything to change that."

He was always so quiet, that was part of what was so difficult - never knowing what he was thinking, having to assume and fill in so many of the gaps on her own. Even being unable to decipher his inner workings, she was emotionally intelligent enough to feel the shift in the air around them, and then he dropped her hand. He dropped her hand and Cora, who had taken a good deal of blows in this relationship (always desired, obviously), felt like she’d been struck in the worst way. Another stir in her gut, this time it was some of that fire that she’d worried had been extinguished. There wasn’t much space between them in the elevator, but she closed it, stopping herself about two steps from him, pulling up to her full height to look him dead in the eyes. 

Hands went to her hip, brow furrowed, a frown on her lips. “Declan…" A quick pause. "Do you have a middle name?” She shook her head, that wasn't the point. Starting over, words firm, “Declan Whateveryourmiddlenameis Archer, if you think that this is me trying to end things, or me not wanting you exactly as you are, you’re an idiot.” She said it with her whole chest, sounding quite like herself again, unafraid of what might come her way. Besides, it’s not like she meant it. Because he couldn’t think that, could he? Not really. It had been a weird night, just like she said, but not this kind of weird. Not nuke-the-best-thing-that’s-happened-to-you-in-years. She didn’t touch his comment about the house. How could she? For her it would probably never really feel like hers, but that wasn’t the issue so she left it. 

“I’m yours.” She reached for her diamond then, touching it and softening her expression. “I’m yours and you’re a little bit mine too, okay? I wasn’t trying to complain. I wasn’t trying to say that I’m not comfortable with you. I’m saying I don’t know how to be right now. I’m saying a man put his fingers inside of me and wanted to do a lot more than that and I feel like I’m going to scream and explode and dissolve and evaporate all at once.” Her voice was raspy, filled with emotion, and a few more tears trailed down her cheeks. This time she left them, tired of the maintenance of keeping her face clean. “But if you weren’t what I wanted or what I needed, why would I call your brother? Why were you my first thought when I thought of safety?” A big feeling, a combination of a few small words, was nestled right behind her teeth, but she couldn’t untangle enough of the emotion in her chest from tonight to let them loose. So she swallowed it and tilted her head, “You’re right where I belong, and we both know that, or I wouldn’t be here.”

[atopvisenyashill]

my opinion on “does joffrey know about the incest” is that he honestly genuinely does not suspect a god damn thing UNTIL the big blow up when his father dies. the combo of ned doing All Of That when he’d previously been so politically inactive + stannis AND renly crowning themselves is all the confirmation he needs for all the weird shit he’s seen throughout his life to click into place but what EYE think clicks into place is “oh this bitch SEDUCED my WEAK and INNOCENT MOTHER from my AMAZING father????” and from then on he’s praying robb kills jaime before the war ends.

[merlinfromberlin]

Never have I ever seen a smile this fake.

[glfry]

Giggles hi my beautiful royal with identity issues

[Image ID in alt text]

[havenesc]

i don’t tend to read de-aging fics personally but i do think it would be a crazy read to have one of the children de-aged to infancy. i’m talking fresh outta the oven, 1-3 months max kind of Little.

any of them would absolutely make bruce lose his mind because for all his children and the house of family that he holds, he has only handled babies very briefly and in usually dire situations of rescue. not all the time ��� the leaguers have kids, the rich neighbor has a new baby etc i’m sure there’s comics i’ve yet to get my hands on about bruce and a whole baby moment — but there is a marked difference between “baby you have for like maybe an hour and don’t have a specific attachment to” and “baby you are now fully responsible for as the primary caretaker and also that was your now-adult son who you have never seen younger than age 12.”

and i think for all of bruce’s violence. all of his crusade and the mission he’s possessed by, all the things he’s done or said to any of his kids (and there are many marks against him), he would be so struck in awe of the tiniest body in his arms. the smushed wrinkly ugly baby face. the soft — and not so soft — noises, the hand that automatically latches on to one of his fingers when he offers, and bruce wayne is in shambles thinking of both the knowledge of what this baby is to grow up to be and endure, but also that there is something so reverential about seeing them right at the start of their lives. He didn’t even get that with damian.

[avirael]

Confessions

It was almost like one of these dreams where you thought you were falling and woke up with a jolt. Rael’s scream and the image of A’viloh tilting forward over the edge and into the abyss - a falling sensation Rael themself had suddenly felt like it was their own - violently pulled them back from their horrible vision.

For the short moment it took to regain a sense for what was real and what was vision, Rael howled as if in pain, raising a hand to their mouth and almost falling to their knees.

Then, as they suddenly realised the imminent danger A’viloh was in, a shudder went through their body and their head shot up. As quick as Rael’s feet would allow it, the Viera jumped up and raced towards the place they had seen in their vision - hoping that it was not too late already.

Out of breath they reached the corner of the square from their vision only a few minutes later. Their burning lungs and muscles were nothing against the painful stab in their heart as Rael noticed that A’viloh was truly standing at the other side of the square. They had hoped the vision had all just been a strange imagination and not reality but there he stood, just like they had seen it.

The coldness crept back into their bones and a horrible feeling of helplessness threatened to make them freeze, while all of Rael’s thoughts only screamed one word. No!

Not sure what to do, with no idea how to prevent this disaster, how to convince A’viloh that he was wrong, Rael quickly moved closer. Loudly but in a soothing tone, though their voice was involuntarily shaking, Rael forced themself to speak up.

“A’vi…”

The Miqo’te at the edge of the plaza flinched and then slowly looked over his shoulder a little, as if the voice alone hadn’t been enough to tell him who was standing a few steps behind him.

“Rael?”, his thin voice asked and his face was covered in frozen tears. With a sudden wave of despair Rael realised they had no clue what to say. No idea how to fix him.

In their mind they already saw him falling...

No! No, this could not happen!

“What are you doing here?”, Rael asked as casually as possible, like there was a perfectly fine explanation for all of this.

For a second A’viloh seemed unsure, then he looked away.

“Nothing.”, he lied.

Rael decided not to point out this obvious lie and instead calmly asked, “It is cold, is it not? Should we maybe go somewhere else?”

But the Miqo’te remained silent. His ears stubbornly folded back, he avoided Rael’s gaze.

“Would you at least step away from the ledge a bit? Please, A’vi. Let us talk.”, Rael pleaded and offered a hand for him to take.

“About what?”, he asked with a strange voice, unusually serious for him. “There is nothing left to talk about…”

Rael could feel how they were slowly loosing him. But the right words didn’t want to appear in their mind. Only panicked yells and pleas.

“You cannot do this…”

“Why not?”, he asked sadly. “No one needs me anyway…”

“I need you, A’vi.”, Rael almost yelled.

But the Miqo’te shook his head and looked the other way again.

“No you don’t. I’m just a burden for you! This has to end before anyone else gets hurt…”

“None of this was your fault!”, Rael exclaimed, the despair all too audible in their voice.

A’viloh, with his back turned towards Rael, made a sound the Viera could not quite distinguish, a sound somewhere between a sharp laugh and a desperate sob. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. Quite a lot of horrible coincidences, don’t you think?…”

The way he said that made Rael angry. They knew that yelling at him probably would only make things worse but before they could stop themself the words were already out.

“You have got to be kidding me! You are such an idiot, A’vi! An idiot and a coward! Don’t you dare to tell me this is for other people‘s sake when in reality you are just too scared! Too scared of moving on and too scared of getting hurt again! You have not understood a single thing Haurchefant was trying to teach you. He wanted you to be happy, A’vi! Happy!! Do you honestly think he would want this? That any of the people you think you failed would want this? Are you too blind to see that their sacrifices were made so you could live? That they sacrificed their lives for you because they loved you? And now you egoistically want to throw your live away just because it hurts?!”

As a heavy silence settled around them, Rael already felt that this had been too much. With a new wave of tears welling up in his eyes A’viloh turned around and stared at Rael with a peculiar expression. A mixture of shame and anger for being called out like this but also hurt and a certain kind of stubbornness too.

“Maybe!”, he sobbed and finally admitted the truth. To Rael and to himself. “Yes, maybe I am scared! Maybe I am just a weak little coward! Excuse me for not being as clever and brave as you! But nothing you say will change that it’s not fair that they are dead and I am not! That whenever I look back all I can feel is the pain of what I lost. And it will also not change that I could never be happy knowing that all of this was my fault!”

Rael felt like they had messed this up entirely. Their eyes started to burn as they stepped closer reaching out for him. “I am sorry… A’vi… I did not mean…”

“No.”, A’viloh replied gloomily and was about to turn towards the ledge again. “I am sorry…”

“Wait!”, Rael suddenly yelled and then said something they had not expected to speak aloud themself.

“Haurchefant’s death was my fault, not yours!”

A’viloh froze.

This was Rael’s last chance, they knew this. Maybe A’viloh would hate them, maybe Rael’s magic would forever be lost if they broke this one rule. They did not know what would happen and they did not care. Not as long as it possibly could save A’viloh.

“I knew it would happen.”

“What?”, the Miqo’te muttered confused. “What do you mean?”

“It means that I lied to you.”, Rael admitted guiltily. “…and that we need to talk. Please, A’vi, step away from that ledge and let us talk.”

Visibly shaken by this confession A’viloh furrowed his brows. “No, you’re just trying to… Why would you lie to me?… I don’t understand any of this…”

With one last deep breath Rael finally revealed the truth. “I have visions of the future. I knew Haurchefant was in danger because I saw it. I saw it and I still failed to stop it. So instead of blaming yourself for his death, you should better blame me.”

Like a lost child A’viloh simply stood there entirely puzzled, like all of the sudden he found that nothing he believed made sense anymore and he didn’t know what to do or say next.

“Visions? Of the future?…”, he repeated as if these words lacked any meaning to him.

“This is why I knew you were here too.”, Rael confirmed as calmy as they could, while their heart was hammering in their chest. In a desperate attempt to convince him they stretched out a hand one more time. “Please, let me explain everything, A’vi…”

For a horribly long moment nothing happened at all. Everything was silent and motionless like frozen in time. Like fate had not quite decided yet which path it would choose.

Then hesitantly the Miqo’te made a step towards Rael and took their hand. Immediately he was pulled a few steps away from the cloudy abyss while Rael wrapped their arms around his body with a relieved sigh. A’viloh neither returned Rael’s embrace nor rejected it.

As Rael finally let go of him they looked him in the eyes and said, “I owe you an apology.”

“First of all you owe me an explanation.”, A’viloh replied blankly and Rael nodded in agreement.

Without letting go of his hand Rael talked for a long time while A’viloh just wordlessly listened. About how Rael had always heard the whispers of Golmore, about the visions that had led them on their journey, and finally about the omen they had seen but not taken serious enough before Haurchefant’s death. Rael did not try to justify their mistakes but at least they wanted to explain that their powers weren’t properly working anymore this far away from home and also why they hadn’t told him all of this a long time ago.

To Rael’s surprise there was no sign at all to signal they had broken the most sacred rule there was for the Viera. No sharp wind to bite them and no thunder striking down to punish them. Everything just felt the same as before. A’viloh on the other hand…

The thoughts racing in his head were plainly visible in his eyes. How his mind tried to make sense of all of this. “You mean you knew that all of this would happen before it even did?…”

“Not everything…”, Rael tried to correct him but A’viloh didn’t let them. There suddenly was something in his eyes, in his voice. Not exactly anger, but hurt? Disappointment?

“But you knew from the very beginning what kind of journey this was. That it would be dangerous and that people would get hurt. And you asked me to help you anyway…”

“Yes but -“

A’viloh’s ears folded back again and he almost hissed as he interrupted Rael.

“No! You knew all along that I don’t belong here. That I never belonged here. That I never wanted any of this! All I ever wanted-”

His voice broke off as he made another of these sounds that was half sob and half laugh.

Rael would be lying to themself if they said all of this had never occurred to them. Maybe they had just chosen to ignore it. But now that Rael thought about it, it made perfect sense. When they had seen him among the people of Silver Bazaar A’viloh had looked happy. As happy as Rael had rarely seen him at any other occasion. Had they possible demanded too much from him? Had he only tagged along for their sake when in reality all he wanted was to go back to a more peaceful life?

Rael didn’t know what to say. There was nothing they could say or do that would make him feel better. They just sadly looked at him as he shook his head and said, “I thought you were my friend…”

“But I am…”, Rael affirmed while also understanding how betrayed he probably felt.

“No.”, the Miqo’te said sharply. For another moment he looked at Rael, his expression full of disappointment. Then he turned around and walked away towards the lower parts of the city.

“Wait! A’vi!”, Rael called while fear rose up inside them again. “Where are you going?”

“Back to where I should have stayed before you talked me into all of this nonsense!”, he hissed without stopping or turning around.

Then he was gone and Rael was left alone.

They hated how hurt he had looked.

But they rather knew he hated them but was somewhere safe, instead of dead.

[unriding]

EVIE !!!!!

I SAW U USE MY ART AS UR THEME SO I WANNA DO A REMAKE !!! mostly cause the other one was full of mistaks hurrrrr orz

keeping the color palette the same so itd still fit + use softer shading so convey how soft u are + moze is now IN UR HAND !!!! >:3

oh nick :’)

[trevisos]

i knowwww mary kirby claimed lucanis is a virgin but respectfully i don’t actually care what she says. and in my heart the truth is this guy has had a series of vaguely unsatisfying one night stands mostly at illario’s behest. there’s that in game letter that mentions lucanis drunkenly impressing/charming a merchant prince to get them into the opera which i interpret as flirting and leads me to believe that like, maybe sometimes he would take someone to bed after a post-contract celebration. maybe illario set him up on a few dates in his early twenties that ended in average at best sex with some pretty boys or girls or whatever. and then he get his little crush on viago and we all see how that goes and he’s like okay. whatever. occasional casual sex is enough for me.

and then. finally. someone (rook.) presents him with a dildo as big around as their arm and he meets the maker face to face. turns out his calling in life is not assassination, it is bottoming. that can fix him. that Will fix him.

[theweirderofthetwo]

Some relaxed kiddos in australia

[indi-glo-archive]

the young royals fandom is so fucking weird about sara and i hate them for it

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Ze during the Railway Workers' Day event

[andragoras-in-vanity]

i know veilgaurd is absolutely incredible for gender reasons, and that it doesnt just let me have top scars but actually lets me acknowledge im trans in conversation like with taash and then when flirting with davrin (still dont know if im gonna romance him or lucanis yes, but asaan did cockblock me?????) but i do wish i could have gotten healing spells....although thinking about it now, because i wish i could have also given my rook my chronic pain/cfs, it makes sense i wouldnt be able to take healing spells, this is my new canon....(like either i get healing spells bevause i know pain and want to limit it for myself and others OR disability is disabling and im incapable of using healing spells since just like real life nothing eases this) anyway..

I like to headcanon that my rook DOES have chronic fatigue or minor pain because im an elf, but im also a mourn watcher, and it feels weird and wrong and unnatural to me for an elf to be living in the nevarra necropolis. i really love that being a mourn watcher has made me weird in conversation and just absolutely ready to let emmerich know how i want to be treated after i die, but nevarra is so dark and dusty, i have to wonder if as an elf being so close to spirits and so far from nature would effect me? so yeah, rook is screaming at all times and loves his home in the necropolis, myrna and vorgoth, the dead and the spirits, but leaving after the war of the banners helped him feel whole once he saw the forests for the first time, connected to his elven lineage (lmfao sorry bro), then he met varric who helped him get his top surgery. but it was the spirits and their lack of genders that helped him realize he also needed to do away with gender tho. i just really love my rook and this is the first time ive played a da game and not felt like i needed to run through it a few times to get everything out of it because i had to choose between male or female. also hes freaking adorable as hell.