#;; asks.

[jokulmacr]

You’re pretty good at wrestling there, Eir, and that’s what I appreciate about you.

Þakka þér fyrir, it went pretty well until you had my head under your leg and then I was close enough to your ass to smell my brother [lol], but I appreciate the acknowledgement-

-oh. Fuck you Rainer, farðu til helvitis [the greatest insult you could give her, disgusting, terrible, right to jail]

[jokulmacr]

behind closed doors 🥺

a (too) honest opinion ;; not accepting

@overthefjords

     It isn't often, Eir knows, that Aleks isn't listening to her. She may whine, yes, she may grumble and grouch and claim him to be purposely ignoring her to wind her up or simply to spite her. Yet, she knows her older brother to be too kind for that, truly. So a chance to talk about him when he can't listen? Is a rare occasion.

     Under careful hands a moth, wings still folded - stiff and cold, small and delicate - is lain out on a clean white sheet, the point of a needle gleaming in stark light as if in an operating theatre. Eir snorts.

     "Aleks is an ass," she dismisses. "He always has been. When I was a child, when he was young, he lived as if he would never die. Drank in honour of gods which his people believed him to be part of, partied and- no, not partied, what is the word? Revelled? Revelled as if life would always continue this way. It was suffocating, being around him; being in his shadow, being his little new conquer, his sweet plaything with such a funny bark and bite."

     Slowly, gently, the wings are adjusted once more, spread and pinned into a position Eir is sure the moth would have appreciated, if it were still alive. It looks about to take flight off her table and she sighs.

     "But, he loved me. Loves me, still, doesn't stop showing it, in the most frustrating ways possible, whether it be buying me new socks or letting me stay over when I am ill or pinching my knee under the table during dinnertime. And he let me grow, let me soar above whatever I was supposed to be before he found me. I love him for that."

     Glancing from her work, she pushes her glasses back up her nose and rests her eyes on a small photo framed on her wall, faded and dated June 1944.

     "I love him. Don't tell him I said that."

[iiguess]

Confession ( main verse ):

Sam. I am here for you. I may not be the best person to talk about your problems with, but I am a decent listener. The past plagues us more often than not and no matter what, I believe you. I believe everything about you. And even though we banter a lot, you are like a little sister to me. This Cloud Knight big brother will protect you.

[ Anonymouse Confession Time || accepting! ]

[daritelsveta]

@korolnichevoya said: ❝  they don’t deserve you—  i don’t deserve you.  but at least i’m aware of it.  ❞

her brow wrinkles - an incredulous look shot up at the man, her chest heaving from an outburst, from anger spewed over her fingers like tar and ink. ❝ what are⸺you talking about? where is this coming from? i never said a thing about you deserving me. ❞

jealous, protective & possessive prompts.

[daritelsveta]

@rejectory said: ❝ i can’t say it without turning sad. and when i turn sad, i grow angry. ❞ ( kirigan )

"say it again anyway," she's breathing, whisper silk-soft. gentle even as he doesn't deserve her gentleness, even as she should be ( raging ) at him. for better or for worse, she could only ever peer at the other man and see a broken extension of herself. "tell me again, how you lost everything."

[daritelsveta]

@rejectory said: “ that was lame. ” ( mal )

alina's collapsing in a fit of giggles - cheeks flushed from the exertion of having laughed herself to collapse, wild curls tumbling over the grass that she lays herself back on. "no it was not," she huffs, her eyes wrinkling as she grins at him. "my heist was awesome. admit it." she begins to unfurl her skirts, showing off her spoils of war: a handful of sweets from kerch.

[daritelsveta]

@madraya said: ❛ You’re shaking. ❜

there is a protest on the tip of her tongue - no, i'm not, i'm fine; let's keep going - when she looks down to realize that yes, she is - indeed - shaking. she runs a trembling hand over her mouth, where she tastes blood.

instead, she says: ❝ we don't have any time to waste, ❞ and drops back into the readying stance baghra had shown her before. ❝ show me again. how to perform the cut. ❞