#no mountain high no valley low

[mostlyinthemorning]

If everything goes well, I hope to have the first chapter of this up next week. Eeeeee, it's almost done!

#houdini74 #no mountain high no valley low #sc fan fic #coming soon #david x patrick #schitt’s creek #schitts creek

[dearjewels22]

#self care with wall #to you from steph #instagram #graphic art #banksy #motivation #quotes #life #inspiring quotes #thoughts #rest #keep going #don't stop #don't give up #keep fighting #valley low #mountain high #don't quit #winners #faith #faith over fear #peace #faith in God #baby steps #keep moving forward #positive quotes #mental strength #mental health awareness #tired #stressed

[redstrewn]

Thinking about sparrowsupportgroup's "LIs keeping tabs on us" post and how if MC needs to, it would be VERY difficult to hide from any of the LIs..........

#mark me down as scared and fucking HOR— #redstrewn talks #they WILL find you ♡ #hide and seek would be the sexiest fucking game with these motherfuckers #aint no mountain high enough aint no valley low enough AINT NO RIVER WIDE ENOUGH thats keepin me from getting to you baby.

[katnissgirlsmakedo]

fanfiction ending made me cry my eyes out like a little baby. that was like a cry i would have had in the gut wrenching trenches of middle school. that was a brutal one. anyway. redacted era officially over now... how crazy is that. of course it goes without saying that if you somehow still don't know what "redacted" is or what the fanfiction is, you're never going to find out and you missed a vital piece of my lore and you will never be able to learn it. heart. as a celebration of one of my worst eras that i still think was actually way better and healthier than at least half of my past eras (cobra kai, outer banks, and hell anything is better than stranger things), here is one final reaction gif compilation. sending off a real one <3

#now i know that i hated at times but it was out of love. ok #you truly would not understand unless you yourself have also experienced the triumphs and defeats the epic highs and lows of the fanfiction #it was over 800 THOUSAND words. it was a JOURNEY. there were ups and downs…. sunshine and rain mountains and valleys all that #and thus i will end her with the respect she deserves… #so the fanfiction and the era we will be saying goodbye to now. but remember that muna’s about u is forever <3

[hergoddessofdeath]

..hey, my lady.

is, uh. somethin' off to you? - @eternalelytra

Hm? Oh, angel--no, no. Everything seems fine to me. Why?

#[asks] letters to lady death #[eternalelytra] mountain high valley low #[event] i want you to be me #(danger) mother knows best

[abeja-rosa]

Title: If you need me i will be near by. . .

#art #og art #photography #pixlr #colorful #self #me #latine #lgbt #androgyne #gay #white #orange #gray #pink #song art #eartha kitt #mountain high valley low #Spotify

[bugsnobunny]

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough but as a horror theme

#aint no mountain high enough #aint no valley low enough #aint no river wide enough #to keep me from getting to you

[chillyfeetsteak]

I first became fascinated with it a few years ago when I noticed it out an airplane window on a flight from Texas to Southern California. In an expanse of endless desert, suddenly, a vast body of water. When I got home, I immediately looked it up on a map. The Salton Sea.

It’s the largest landlocked body of water in California. It sits right on top of the San Andreas Fault at over 200 feet below sea level. It is more than twice as salty as the Pacific Ocean. It is completely toxic. And I had never heard of it before then.

(photo essay under the cut)

In the early 1900s the Colorado River was diverted through a series of irrigation canals in order to provide water for the farmlands of Imperial Valley. One of the head-gates broke during a flood, and the desert basin filled with water for 2 years before it was fixed. The unexpected lake soon became a popular vacation destination; it was stocked with fish, and resorts and hotels popped up along its shores. It became known as a great place for sport fishing, waterskiing, and yacht parties. Big name celebrities visited. At one point, it had more annual visitors than Yosemite.

Salton Sea has no outlet, and is only filled via agricultural runoff. As the water evaporated in the hot desert sun, the lake became more and more saline. Chemicals began to build up from the run off causing toxic algae blooms, and mass die-offs of fish and birds started in the 80s. By the 90s, the beaches were littered with fish gills and bird bones and the resorts were abandoned. The lake began to dry up as irrigation run-off was diverted away. The exposed lake bed is also toxic, and the high desert winds kick up the dust, making the air poisonous. 

Despite the unpleasant odor, the noxious air and the summer temperatures regularly reaching 120°, a renaissance of sorts began in the early 2010s. Artist and nomad colonies began to spring up around Salton Sea. Bombay Beach, once a popular resort destination, is now mostly a ghost town, but the folks who remain have turned the ruins on the shores into an outdoor art installation gallery where the found-art sculptures are cyclically destroyed by the elements and then replaced with new ones. Many of the houses and RVs in town are themselves art pieces.

In nearby Slab City, a settlement of off-the-grid lifestylers, you can find even more folk art. Salvation Mountain is a manmade hill painted with bright colors and bible verses and maintained by a community of volunteers. East Jesus is a sculpture garden and art installation. 

This past weekend my partner and I finally made the pilgrimage to the Sea. California has the benefit of being home to a huge array of biomes. In just a couple of hours you can travel from snowy mountain peaks to lush oases to endless sand dunes. Driving the hour or so south from Palm Springs towards Salton Sea is like driving towards the end of the world.

Bombay Beach especially enamored me. The beach is crusted with salt and millions of tiny shells and bones. It smells awful, like sewage and chemicals and low-tide and rotting fish. You drive out onto the beach and park anywhere amongst the sculptures and deteriorating resort ruins. The art feels raw in a way I haven’t experienced before. It reminds me of seeing paleolithic cave art. Humans made this, with no motivation other than to create something intriguing or beautiful or sad. Not much can live out here, but what you find fills me with a great adoration for humanity. Despite the asphyxiation of the natural world, the human spirit persists.

#im sure most people know about this place but i didnt so!! #i hated writing essays in school but now in my 30s i do it for fun apparently #photos are all mine except the first one #salton sea #bombay beach #slab city #salvation mountain

[hreshdagtsi]

-Due- (9/1/22)

The climb itself is the best part of the journey It is a thrill unparalleled by any before The peak grants not only a view, but glory And while looking off you long for more You sit and ponder your next conquest Where to climb next, how to prepare What to bring and how to approach best While still here, you long to go over there As if the triumph of this is not enough You cant seem to value your present Despite your efforts, no matter how rough Everything is a worthless accomplishment You revel in confidence while you remain ignorant You don't know of the storm that approaches You only know to stay strong, to brave the torrent But the mountain is the greatest of coaches It will shake you to your depths, even humble you It will teach you to know the name of ‘Misery’ Her company is torture and her words true She will seize you, beat you, rob you of victory She will send you clean off the world's precipice Off to the dreaded, forgotten, foothills you go And you'll look up from the bottom of the abyss Wondering, how from so high, you ended so low And so after an eternal period of wallowing self pity, Of cursing the heavens and loathing your weakness You begin anew the climb, ascending above your city Above the sands and trees, the seas, and bleakness Yet this time, you harbor doubt, once it happened Surely, it can happen twice, or thrice; again and again Destined to fail, your sky will remain blackened And you'll dwell aimless forevermore among men The worst of the journey's suffering remains fresh It constantly tugs and pulls at your delicate mind Despite knowing the trail, you fear the trial's thresh Hence making the already lost impossible to find But the Gods provide and they smile upon you If you're to overcome yourself and the elements You will finally reach the summit long overdue Yet due nonetheless, you'll relish in fine sentiments Perhaps now you'll learn how to appreciate Even the shortest tribulations deserve respect So keep your wits about you and carry on straight To one day realize your heart's deepest prospect...

#due #poem #poetry #climb #trials #highs #lows #weakness #victory #defeat #misery #doubt #perseverance #torture #mountains #valleys #conquest #glory #abyss #destiny #remain #thresh #gods #tribulations #heavens #eternal #cursing #loathing #self pity #triumph

[historiaxvanserra]

Depraved

Pairing: Cassian x female!reader

Description: On a reconnaissance mission deep in the Illyrain Mountains you and Cassian come under the spell of some strange and exotic plant that sees you both subject to your basest desires.

Word count: 5.3K (ish)

Warnings: 18+ only! this wasn’t a request it’s just shameless smut with a smidge of plot (unedited sex pollen fic, dirty talk, unprotected sex, p in v, kind of dubcon but not really, etc).

For my fellow Cassian girlies. this is kind of a hot mess but honestly at least i'm writing something.

The winter sun is sinking low into the western horizon when Cassian motions for you to fall to your knees beside him. It’s depraved the way you drop to the floor wordlessly as Cassian towers over you, his large frame concealing the last slivers of sunlight as they give way to the rapidly falling night. 

“How we doin’ this, then, General?” you ask, peering through the thicket of blackberry bushes and into the small encampment nestled into the depths of the valley. There are three Illyrian’s gathered around the campfire and two flanking the makeshift entrance to the north. 

Cassian seems to be lost, somewhere distant and far away. Abandoned to the hazy recollections of warfare and bloodshed. He wears blood well you think. Carries the weight of war with the deference and respect it deserves. 

Still, he looks peaceful then. Despite the storm raging inside of him. He wears peace  well too; the sulk of his lips and the straight slope of his nose and fine-high cheekbones give the impression he was carved by the first Gods. Primordial and celestial.

He is as good as a God himself in this light-- the way the burnt sienna of the winter sun reflects in his hazel eyes. They look like molten gold. 

Your heart is thunderous in your heaving chest as he finally turns to you and offers you his large, broad hand. It’s rough against the smooth silk of your palm and his fingers flex around your wrist in a way that makes heat coil in the lowest parts of your stomach and the leathers you’re wearing cling to your skin in a way that is not all together uncomfortable. 

“Are you even listening to me, princess?” Cassian huffs running a hand over his face, leaving a smear of dried blood in his wake.

“I’d pay good money to know what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” He muses.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” You say smiling wide at him. It’s only half-teasing. 

Cassian watches you curiously as you begin to readjust your thigh holster and reach for your Illyrian daggers in an futile attempt to distract yourself from his shameless flirting.

“You’re the second prettiest girl I know,”

“Only the second?” You say feigning offense and bringing a hand to rest on your chest. 

“Az is the first, obviously.” 

“Obviously, Azriel is the prettiest person I know too.” You tease, catching his eye. 

The smile. No. Smirk, that spreads across his face then is full of devilment and harmless flirtation as he pulls you closer to his side in a sidelong hug. 

“And here I thought I was the prettiest.” he says, nudging you playfully.

Once again his eye hone in on the group gathered around the campfire in the dip of the valley. The way his face sets so beautifully as he takes the time to calculate his next move is enough to take your breath away. He is utterly devastating you think. 

“I say we go in quietly,” he nods to you as he unsheaths his dagger from its holster. “Take ‘em by surprise.”

You nod slowly in understanding and agreement as you follow him into the thicket. 

You sink low and take a fighting stance as you begin the descent down the side of the valley with Cassian in tow who only laughs and huffs pulling at his own knife. 

No more than ten minutes later you’re both caught up in the fray, the dusky haze of combat falling over the encampment and the roaring of the campfire and Cassian’s deep primal shouts permeate the darkness.

You hoist yourself up from the floor with a flourish and flip your assailant onto his back in the mud as a determined elbow braces the nose of the Illyrian below you. His wings flare and flail helplessly under you in an attempt to free himself as your knife meets his chest. 

He goes limp in your grip as the sickening squelch of blood and bone echoes in the night air. You pull your knife from him with a grimace as his blood spurts and pools on the soiled bedroll. 

Standing on unsteady feet you’re surrounded by bodies; an assortment of splintered bone and broken glass, set against the backdrop of the velvet night. 

Cassian comes to stand by your side, taking in your disheveled appearance. His large hand comes to hold you by the hip while the other brushes your hair from your face as he murmurs praises quietly. When you have regained your breath he pats you twice on the shoulder before leaving you with a firm squeeze. 

There’s an uncertain tenderness in the way he regards you in the haze of battle that always catches you off guard. As though the fine line between friends and lovers is itself blurred. You can’t say you mind it. Sometimes it is this tender and rough version of him that warms you through winter nights. The fleeting memory of this version of Cassian is enough to sate your wanting. 

When you look at him he’s coated in a thin veil of sweat and you swear you can hear his heart hammering in his heaving chest. His wings slump and strain in fatigue as he allows his body to falter in a state of near-exhaustion.

The reprieve is short lived when three more Illyrian brutes armed to the nines come trailing through the northern gate. All bared teeth and snarling fury. 

“Shit!” You curse under your breath and catch Cassian’s glowing hazel eyes. 

He looks feral in the moonlight as his eyes survey the three bodies approaching the encampment. His smile is wicked and glinting against the dark, his hair is wind-beaten and unruly, and his muscled chest draws in heavy, labored breaths as he struggles against his own exhaustion. 

Even so, he is beautiful. And deadly.

“You got one more fight in you, big guy?” you say to Cassian regarding him warily as the three men approach.

“I should be offended you even felt the need to ask.” he says, smiling wickedly at you before charging head first into one of the three soldiers while the other two begin to circle like vultures as you descend upon them. 

The soldier underneath Cassian shouts orders to his comrades but is quickly drowned out by the sickening crack of his neck as Cassian cradles his softening body in his strong arms. 

In a flurry of movement you attack one of the other assailants with a fierce determination that sends you both tumbling to the ground in a violent struggle as you grapple with him. It takes a few moments but once he is disarmed you overpower him with a rehearsed ease as your dagger kisses his neck and you watch as his flesh gives way and his blood oozes hot and thick against the gravel.

You take a moment to gather your wits again, feeling slightly disoriented as you pry yourself away from the thicket of flowering bushes you had landed in before you see Cassian again. 

A sudden rush of wind and a flash of movement that your eyes follow instinctively as Cass falls into view. He’s sprawled face down in the dirt near the bushes on the west side of the encampment, two bodies at either side of him. 

Unmoving and silent. 

Worry pools in your stomach when Cassian does not roll over with his signature smile on his face, the one that makes you weak in the knees. Instead he stays there, in the first, eerily still. 

“Shit, Cassie” you ask, throat hoarse and you hand on your hip as you catch your breath, “You alive over there?”

Only Cassian doesn’t respond. He’s hunched over in the thicket of ferns and blackthorn bushes. You can hear his breaths, broken and ragged, as they come in sporadic succession. 

Tentatively, you sink to your knees beside him. Still he doesn’t move. Your heart hammers violently in your chest and a wave of nausea washes over you. When he turns to face you.

His brows are drawn together and his full lips sulk before pulling into a frown as he holds a small flowering plant in his large, calloused hands. He’s sheened in a thin veil of sweat and you can hear the fluttering of his heart in his heaving chest. 

He lets the flower fall limply in his hand.

It’s an unusual little thing.

Tender stemmed and pale pink petals that split open to reveal chartreuse orbs of pollen. 

The air is cloyingly sweet, like candied rhubarb and honey.

You blink a few times as the word begins to falter around you and you fall to your knees in the mud. 

The world spins on its axis and blurs at its edges as the white spots cloud your vision momentarily. 

By the time you come to night has fallen over the camp casting the world in amethyst moonglow. 

“Cassie?” You call out into the night.

You take a few moments to gather your wits and survey your surroundings. You’re in the main tent of the enemy camp and for a moment panic sinks low in your stomach, twisting and coiling. There’s heat too.

You’re so hot.

But there is no sun for which to ascribe the terrible heat that blooms in your chest. It runs a steady line from your fluttering heart and pools between your slick thighs.

You rise on unsteady feet from the bedroll and walk out into the night air. It’s cool as it kisses your skin but offers you little relief for the aching heat between your legs.

Cassian is pressed against the wagon in front of the campfire, his skin glows a soft ochre in the firelight and you notice then that he has rid himself of his shirt. The exposed contours of his chest glisten in the light of the flame and he looks haunted.

“Cassie,” you plead as you approach him carefully. Momentarily taken aback by the pure unadulterated need in your tone.

Cassian turns to you suddenly and there is a hypnotic, sinking dread painted on his face as he takes you in. The skin sheened in sweat and the flushed skin on your cheeks and the tips of your breasts. The sporadic rise and fall of  your chest. 

“Stay where you are,” He warns, his arm outstretched to you, “you need to stay away.”

You stop in your tracks for a moment to take him in.

He smells like fir trees and ginger.

“Cass what are you talking abou-” you ask before his voice cuts you off.

“please,” He says through grit teeth, his voice is thunderous and settles in your chest like a lead weight. “Just go!”

“Cass, I-i don’t understand,” your voice softens as you take in the pained expression on his face.

You remain firmly in place, mere feet between your body and his, and you can’t fight the heat that flashes through you then. Nor the ache between your legs as your eyes trail over his chest and toned thighs clad in his leathers. 

Another pained groan from Cassian has you inching further towards him, your hands outstretched in caution as you close the distance between the two of you. 

You lower yourself onto the ground, resting on your knees as you take his chin between your fingers, turning it in your firm grasp. His face, once golden, is pallid and veiled in sweat, his jaw, once set in determination, is slack and the words that leave him are pained. Tained with something darker. 

“No, you don’t understand,” Cassian laughs cruelly, his eyes ardent gold boring into yours before flicking to your lips and then back. His voice is hoarse, and wanting. Animalistic.

“Yo-you need to leave, princess.” He whispers, it’s laden with dark promise as he rasps “or I’m not gonna be able to stop myself.”

You let go of his chin and fall back onto your knees.

“Stop yourself from doing what, Cass?” you narrow your eyes at him.

Cassian visibly stiffens, the muscles in his broad shoulders tense against you and his whole body seems to follow suit. His fingers flex around nothing, clawing at the floor in an attempt to ground himself as a wave of something washes over him.

The snarl that tears through him is inhuman.

Your trembling hands reach for him, brushing the hairs that stick to his forehead back and away from his face as you whisper reassurances to him. 

“It’s going to be okay, Cass,” You murmur affectionately, “I’m not going to leave you.”

There's desperation in the air as you continue to comfort him through the onslaught of…well, whatever it is. He convulses violently in your hold and only when the convulsing subsides do you place a hand against his bare chest. 

The jolt of electricity you feel as your hand comes to rest against his muscled chest elicits another growl from him. He whines desperately at your touch and heat pools between your thighs once more. 

“You can’t,” he says, taking your hand delicately before pushing you away with such force that it nearly knocks you backwards.

“You can’t touch me like that.” He laughs cruelly as he cards a hand through his damp curls. 

Cassian heaves a heavy breath and releases a broken cry like some sort of wounded animal. He looks utterly undone. 

Your eyes trail him hungrily as heat rises in you again. It’s unbearable the pull you feel to him. The way your body reacts to his. 

It’s then your eyes fall onto his leather clad legs, watching as he palms himself through the skin-tight material in a way that speaks to the pure depravity that clouds your judgment. Shame creeps up on you as your eyes meet. His eyes blown wide and darkening as he tugs his lip between his teeth while another snarl tears through him. 

“Cassian?” you say firmly, drawing his attention to you once more “What is happening?”

You don’t give him leave to stop you as you once again sink to your knees to be by his side, placing a soft palm on the curve of his jaw, forcing him to look at you. Cassian lets his body melt into your touch in response as he lets out a shaky breath that fans your face as his eyes search yours desperately. 

He seems to sober at your touch as the world around him falls into perfect view once more. 

“The flowers,” he says, his voice hoarse and strained, “the-they only grow deep in the Steppes.”

“The flowers?” you repeat tentatively, “What do they do?” you ask. 

“They use them in rituals,” he clarifies, his eyes boring into yours as if willing you to understand. 

When you don’t seem to catch his meaning he breathes deeply before continuing “They lower your inhibitions completely until all that is left is your basest desires.” He stresses the last part hoping to jog your memory.

“Oh.” is all you say as realization settles in your bones and a new wave of arousal washes over you. You squeeze your thighs together hoping to find some temporary relief. But to no avail. 

Cassian seems to go ridgid as the change in the air becomes apparent. It’s electric and heavy charged as he looks to you once more and his eyes glaze over with lust. 

“You need to leave,” He warns his large hand coming to cover yours and he squeezes with all the tender reassurance he can manage in his half-delirious state, “right NOW!”.

The tension rises when the scent of his arousal hits you. Dark musk and sweat tainted with the faint smell of florals that sends your senses into overdrive. The urge to reach out and touch him is always maddening as he lets out another agonized snarl. 

“Please, princess,” he pleads once again, “I won’t be able to hold off for much longer.” his voice is dark now and laden with desire as his eyes trail your form beneath your leathers. 

You smell so good. He murmurs so low that the sound burns into the darkest, most base parts of your mind. That murmur you will think about in the nights to come. 

“I can’t leave you, Cass,” you say seriously watching the way his brows knit together before allowing his jaw to go lax. 

“I won’t leave you.” 

“You have to,” he huffs as he palms his cock through the material of his leathers again, a sharp hiss leaving him at once, “or I-I’ll not be able to stop myself.” 

“And you won’t either.” 

The words hang heavy in the air as he allows the gravity of the situation to settle around you both and you try to ignore the way his words send a wave of pure unadulterated pleasure through you. 

“And if I don’t want to stop you?” your hands trace lazy patterns into the slick skin of his chest, following the lines of his inky tattoos. 

“Fuck darling,” he says letting his forehead to rest  against yours as his eyes flutter shut,  “you can’t say things like that to me and expect me to be able to control myself.” he chuckles darkly. 

“Not when you’re lookin’ at me like that,” he takes your jaw between his thumb and index finger to bring your lips to his before placing a tender kiss there.

“Not when I can practically taste you.” His tone is much darker now as he nips at your  lower lips to pull you into a bruising kiss.

“Then let me help you,” you whisper airily, your fingers ghosting along his arms, following the contours of his chest, running gently over the swell of his pectoral muscles, down along the ridge of his abs and coming to rest on the  deep ‘v’ that disappears into the hem of  his leathers. 

Your free hand comes to the hinge of his sharp jaw, cupping his face as you pepper wet kisses along the skin there. 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” he says, his voice tense and body malleable under your deft touch. It takes all his self-control to insist again “I won’t ask that of you.”

In truth, you’ve wanted him this way for the better half of two decades but now, looking at him, all desperation and depravity, you’re not sure there’s any going back to the way things were. You want to be his friend. But you want this more.

You want to watch him come undone around you. You want to feel the rough pads of his fingers and they bruise the tender flesh of your hips and thighs. You want it to be you who he finds release. It has to be you. 

“You’re not asking, Cass” you remind him, your hands coming to grip his face, “let me help you.” 

He looks at you and something flashes in his hazel eyes; it's something dark and needy. A wordless plea. 

He nods gingerly, letting his hands come to rest on your hips, his fingers digging into the skin so tight that he is sure to leave his mark upon you. 

As you swing a leg over him so that his lower half is caged between your spread thighs he lets out to growl he has been holding. It’s feral and steeped in want. He’s near a primal trance by the time your hands find their home wrapped around his broad, strong shoulders as he bears your weight in his lap, letting you grind your wet core against him. 

The whine that leaves you as his thigh comes into contact with your clothed core is perverse and has you clenching around nothing. Your body sings in his bruising grip and you fit in his lap like you were made for him. 

His kisses are brutal and leave you half-breathless as he pulls away to gaze into your eyes. 

“I won’t be gentle with you.” he warns sternly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When he finds none he wastes no time taking the material of your leathers between his strong palms and pulling until they are bursting at their seams. Giving way to his strong grip and exposing your bare flesh to him. 

The sound that leaves you as your bare cunt comes into contact with the cool night air is pornographic and has Cassian groaning into the bare skin of your shoulder. 

“I don’t want you to be gentle with me, Cass” you say to him as your lips skim his.

“I can take it.” you breath airily nodding to him. 

He doesn’t say anything but dips his head into the curve of your neck before parting his lips. The feeling of his teeth sinking into the junction of your neck and shoulder feels as close to heaven as you might ever get. 

As your back arches away from him in protest Cassian takes the opportunity to free himself from his leathers with a pained hiss that melts into soft whimpers as you grind against him. 

He looks so beautiful like this; lips parted as his hand strokes his hardened length, the heavy length of him angry and red as the beads of precum glisten like pearls at his tip. He releases a heavy breath and pumps himself once more before dragging the head of his cock through the slick of your folds, gathering your arousal before pulling you down onto him with a force that sends tingles down the line of your spine.

You sink down onto him painfully slowly, savoring the dull ache as you take a moment to accommodate to his size. 

“Takin’ my cock so well, princess.” he hisses through clenched teeth as you sink down impossibly further. He splays an open hand over the bulge in your stomach pressing lightly as he begins to roll his hips at a brutal pace. He moves without warning, unforgiving and cruel as he fucks into you roughly. 

“‘Thought about this so many times, Cass.” you say burying your face into the crook of his neck as his hips snap against yours as you grind down onto his cock.

Cassian falters momentarily, a glimpse of the man you know through the haze of his carnal trance. His eyes glow golden in the low light and his hands come to hold your face in place as he brushes the stands away from your face behind the shell of your ear as he places a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose before his eyes darken once again. 

“I’ve thought about it too, princess” he says softly to you, barely more than a whisper.

He takes hold on you firmly, one hand spread across the expanse of your back and one on your hip as he flips you over with all his brute strength, his careful hand beneath you cushioning your fall. 

“Thought about how you’d look wrapped around my cock,” he growls, pulling all the way out of you before sinking back in with a harsh rut of his hips that  has you fluttering around his cock like a velvet vice.

“How pretty you’d sound begging for my come,” he groans as you wrap your legs around the small of his back, pushing him deeper into you as you moan gospel into the shell of his ear. 

“Beggin’ for me to make you mine.” It takes you by surprise as the words leave him, his voice is low and dark but laced with a certain clarity that rings true. 

You want him to claim you. Make you his. 

“Then make me yours, Cassie.” You beg prettily, your eyes boring into his with a vulnerable desperation.

He stares at you for a moment, a strange look of longing and awe on his beautiful face before it morphs into something carnal and animalistic that makes arousal coil in your stomach.

His amber eyes meet yours again, his hands coming to rest at either side of your head when your legs wrap tight around his middle as he resumes his brutal pace. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says as his calloused palm runs over a hardened nipple before enclosing your breast and squeezing with fond pressure, “and all mine.” he finishes quietly, murmuring to himself. 

Cassian pulls back slowly so that he comes to rest on his knees, his large hands honing in on your thighs and pushing them further apart exposing your cunt to him with a guttural moan as he regards the way you’re wrapped around him. The milky ring that appears at the base of his cock and the way your back arches with each slow drag of his cock as it reaches that spongy spot inside of you. 

“This pussy is mine,” he snarls, fucking into you again before finding his brutal pace,  “look at how well you take my cock, baby.” he praises. 

“Like you were made for me.” he murmurs to himself, reveling in the feeling of your tight cunt fluttering around him again. A ripple of pleasure roars through him again when he feels you pulse around him and he senses your inevitable orgasm as you begin to chase it. 

“Say it, princess” he commands you, his breath hot and dangerous as he lowers himself so that you are chest to chest, “I need to hear you say it.”.

You nod enthusiastically, your hands coming to tangle in his hair, dipping down to his broad shoulders, tracing the lines of his tattoos as you roll your hips to meet his. 

“I’m yours, Cassian,” You confirm, your voice certain and thick with need. It’s desperate and depraved the way you beg for him until your voice is hoarse. 

I need you. Need you to fill me up. To make me yours. 

The words break apart in your mouth as your pleasure hits you like a tidal wave that crashes to the shore with a violent shudder.

“That’s it baby,” Cassian whispers as he fucks you through the last ripples of your orgasm. He draws one hand to rest against your abdomen, pressing lightly so that he can feel his cock move deep inside of you. 

In a feverish desperation you claw at him, his shoulders, his waist, the delicate flesh of his sculpted thighs drawing him impossibly closer to you. 

His own growl comes out in a broken rasp as he starts to lose himself to the euphoric feeling of your cunt clenching around him again in a desperate struggle. 

You cling to him fighting to find purchase, to brace yourself against the steady wall of muscle while Cassian chases his own orgasm, setting a cruel pace that begins to blur the lines between pleasure and pain and threatens to tear a broken sob from as you fight against the urge to come on his cock again. 

You kiss him desperately; nipping at his collar bones before pressing bruising kisses into his neck, mapping the broad expanses of his chest before coming to rest at the junction between his neck and the sharp line of his jaw.

Chest to chest, his heart thunders violently against yours and with every hungry kiss he seems to slip further into his primal trance. Another feral snarl rips through his chest as your lips connect in a kiss that tears the breath from you. It’s ceaseless, and leaves you senseless as he keeps fucking you at his brutal pace. 

It’s all consuming and devouring as Cassian gives in to his basest desire, drawing his cock all the way out before driving back in with an animalistic force that has you coming undone with a gentle sob.

Cassian slumps against you so close you can feel his beating heart as he groans against you, kissing the skin of your neck before coming to your parted lips, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake, all while his hands map the contours of your body. 

“That’s it, Cass,” you encourage him gently, pulling at the curls at the base of his neck as you feel him pulse inside of you as his hips begin to slow to a tortuous and teasing drag as he finds his release.

You feel the heavy tip of hip pulse violently in your cunt, the thick vein that runs along the underside of his marble length and the warm ropes of cum that coat your walls until you feel his release leaking out of you. It is depraved, the way your legs tighten against him, unwilling to let him go just yet.

His chest heaves, the rise and fall sporadic and wild as he breathlessly collapses against you, the weight of him a comforting crush as you chase the last waves of pleasure as your heart plateaus to a steady rhythm. 

You look at him through thick lashes searching for any sign of regret but finding only a strange reverence and unspoken longing in his amber irises. It is a longing you have wanted to see in him for so long. And perhaps it has always been there, behind the darks of his eyes but now, in this light, they shine with it. It glints in his eyes with a knowing acknowledgement that it is keenly felt and received.

He’s dazed and still half-wild when he places another kiss on your lips. This time it is tender and loving. Not completely free of lust but there is something else there too. Something new and sacred and gentle. 

His hair is damp and his skin glows golden in the dying light of the fire and the air is still thick with the smell of your union but you feel somehow lighter. Unburdened by the release of emotion you’ve both been holding for so long. You breathe deeply and your body relaxes into his once more. 

Like you were made for him and him alone. 

“You alright, princess?” he asks softly in a way that arches on anxious as his eyes meet yours in an unwavering stare.

“I’m just fine, Cassie.” You smile carefully, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek, rubbing tentative circles into the skin there. 

“We’re going to be just fine.”

Cassian searches you for any sign of uncertainty all he finds in its place is love. A love that burns bright against the dark skies. A love that comforts him in the knowledge that his life is forever changed by what passed between them. A love that will warm him through the long nights. 

The smile that blooms on his face is one full of ardour and child-like awe as he takes you in once again. Pressed so tight against him that he can feel the curve of your breast and the beating of your heart. Skin flush against him and flesh malleable in his deft grasp. 

His eyes trail the line of your body, committing the curves and divots to memory as he recalls the sound of you coming undone around him again. In his memory it sounds  like birdsong or some ancient song. Hypnotic and depraved.

He had dreamt of this so many times before and in the haze of dreaming you always felt so real. But having you here, in his arms feels like some cruel trick. 

Like he’s just waiting for realization to set in. For you to recoil in unadulterated horror. 

But you never do. 

Instead, you take his face in your hands again and kiss him with a devotion that you reserve only for him before opening your mouth to whisper to him what he assumes are words of reverence and praise. 

“I hope you know we’re going to do that again.” and your laugh sounds like birdsong in his ear.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian fanfic #cassian smut

[neonpaperlanterns]

I have a silly little request for the best of boys 👉🏻👈🏻 Can I please please please get protective DogDay over a reader who is pretty short and harmless looking? He gets "Thank you" pets after he deals with the threat. Thank youuu (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

[A/n: I hope you like this anon! I don't know why but I found this one particular difficult to write. So I really hope it turned out alright.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ain't no mountain high enough

DogDay would protect you from anything. He swore it the day you saved him. It didn't matter from what or when he would do everything in his power to keep you safe. Ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no valley low enough and all that.

The point is he would do anything to keep you from harm.

Though he knows that you are plenty capable of handling yourself. He’s seen it but sometimes it was so easy to forget. He remembers when he first saw you. Even through all the dirt and grime your face held a particular gentleness to it. Like you wouldn't hurt a fly. He has been surprised to put it simply.

Everything about you was unexpected. From your round open features and your rather small stature.

That was why it was so easy to forget that he didn't need to protect you all the time. Not that you ever scolded him. Honestly it felt like you were endeared by it. Like right now.

DogDay was breathing heavily as he snarled and snapped in the direction of the little critters. The tiny beasts had attempted to swarm you. For what he could take a guess. But it didn't make much sense. They didn't leave the Playhouse and the fact they did put him on edge.

But it was a bit hard to focus on that when you ran up to him, praise falling from your lips like a waterfall. Your arms came up to wrap around his neck and he would never say it outloud but the way you had to balance on your tiptoes to reach him was really cute.

“Thank you so much. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here.” Your voice came out a cooing lit. Your fingers running through his fur made him want to melt. He would worry later, right now he just wanted to bask in your affection.

“Of course. Anything for you though I know would have figured something out.” And he was sure you would have but he is still overjoyed that he could be there for you.

“Maybe but I like it much better having you around to protect me.” You were smiling up at him and he couldn't resist. Dogday nuzzled the top of your head, and arm coming to loosely wrap around your waist. Holding you close he reiterated his promise.

He would protect you from anything. No matter what.

#dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime #dogday x reader #reader insert #dogday #short reader #protective dogday #pets #i do not know why but i found this one so hard to write #it went through many iderations

[mostlyinthemorning]

No Mountain High, No Valley Low

June 1905.

Patrick has been taking tourists on pack trips into the Canadian Rockies for five years when David steps onto his ranch and changes his life. Meanwhile, David can’t believe Alexis tricked him into riding horses and sleeping in a tent, but meeting Patrick almost makes up for it.

A life in the mountains sounds like a nightmare to David and Patrick has never dreamed of going back to the city. But if they want a future together, one—or both of them—will have to give up everything.

Rated E, chapters will post on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11

This fic is now complete!

#I think I need a nap #no mountain high no valley low #houdini74 #sc fanfic #david x patrick #schitt’s creek #schitts creek

[dearjewels22]

because He said all I need is a mustard seed of faith to move you!

#life #quotes #inspiration #mountain high #valley low #no weapon formed against me shall prosper #God can #God did #Trust in the Lord #faith over fear #faith #have faith #keep climbing #believe in yourself #confidence #dear jewels #mental health #covered in the blood #the lord is my shepherd #the Lord is my light and salvation #God is bigger #know your worth #pray through it #peace #pray about it #talk to God #bible work #bible #bible app #Matthew 17:20

[slavicafire]

it's always such a wonder to experience how quickly the valley forgets about winter: march has not even ended, yet the grasses and ferns and butterburs burst into an untamed green tide surrounding every path.

the wild and careless wind, dancing with the light branches of the weeping willow, carries scents and sounds of spring: the wild cherry trees buzz with dozens of bumblebees in their fragrant fuzzy crowns, the air is filled with the blackbird song and buzzard call, and the low timid croak of the frogs sitting in the bright yellow patches of marsh marigolds reverberates in the creek.

and only the mountain creek remembers winter, I think: fast and unruly with the waters from the snow melting high on the peaks, rushing over the mossy stones and unearthed bones. it remembers, cold, near freezing - but shrugs it off as soon as the sun starts slowly kissing its waters during the meandering and spilling turns, reflecting in them like it will soon reflect in the wings of newborn dragonflies.

[iwantjaketosullyme]

𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝, 𝐢'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

…but, big spoon, you have so much to do and i have nothing ahead of me.

➺ pairing: jake sully x omatikaya!reader (fluff/angst) ➺ summary: seeing jake was easy, seeing toruk makto not so much. (w/c: 2.8k) ➺ warnings: minor mentions of war & death a/n: inspired by mitski's 'your best american girl' nd dedicated to our fav all-american boy <33 na'vi dictionary at the end !! gif credit goes to @/worldofpandora

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Seeing Jake was easy.

It was shirking clan chores in favour of being held in the safe cocoon of his capable arms on a lazy afternoon, the two of you splayed out on the forest floor as it welcomed you into its clutch, soft grass embracing you, gentle breeze lulling him to sleep. As he slumbers you trace his features gently, eyes first, then nose.

You coast over the worry line that creases just like that when he senses a formidable threat, like the rogue palulukan that strayed a little too close to camp the previous week (or the persistent Omatikaya child that insists on having you braid his hair exactly when Jake’s sat down for you to rebraid his, meaning a rushed job and less scalp scratches for him).

Cautious fingertips are guided by the smattering of tanhi that litter his face, a map provided by Eywa, tiny stars aligning to lead you to your final destination - your favourite destination – his lips.

Being Seen by Jake was even easier.

- flashback -

Two weeks have passed since the fateful day your people reclaimed your ancestral home from the Sky People. The injured have been treated and deceased loved ones have been mourned and committed to Eywa. Now, the clan must celebrate.

Young ones chase after each other's tails (knowing the mood is good enough for them to escape chastisement from their parents), potential lovers dance around their feelings as they dance around the communal fire and elders thank the Great Mother for the privilege of witnessing another night like this – too many eclipses have passed since the clan could revel in shared joy like this.

The evening’s jubilations wind down as eclipse approaches, but the air is still charged with a sense of collective anticipation; you are yet to do what you do best. Gathered clan members form a blue sea, bioluminescent tanhi a mirror image of the stars in the skies above as they seat themselves on fallen logs. 

Deep inhale, shoulders rolled back, head held high and gaze cast over young and old alike, you open your mouth and sing. Entranced, Jake looks up from where he was refilling his cup of pongu pongu (after falling victim to a particularly wily adolescent Na’vi bartering for the drink reserved for adults of the clan) and his amber gaze settles on you as he listens to the legend of a valiant Omatikaya warrior made song. His legend.

His song rolls off your tongue, volume ebbing and flowing like the waters of the Eastern Sea, reaching ‘ahhs’ and throaty ‘oohs’ conveying the highs and lows of his Pandoran alterlife. Sweeping peaks and troughs in the notes you belt out paint the picture in his mind of the mountains climbed and valleys traversed on his quest to find his humanity in a Na’vi body. Dulcet tones undulate from the soft pillows of your lips into the attentive ears of every clan member gathered around the fire, demanding the rapt attention of all that can and will listen.

Your voice betrays you, wavering slightly when you make sudden eye contact with Jake. He gawks at you unashamedly, his expression reminding you of the awe and excitement of a child watching kenten unfurl their luminous fans for the first time. Inwardly, you curse the power that this vrrtep has over you; you never get distracted! No doubt Ninat would be teasing you about this mishap til Eywa calls you home. That skxawng always liked to argue that she’s the better vocalist.

Final note lingering in the air and resonating in the hearts of those around you, you graciously accept the compliments offered. Soon after, you make a swift break for your marui, unaware of your newly acquired shadow following after your hurried steps as if still woefully caught in the spell your voice had cast upon him.

You flit about the marui, humming under your breath as you search for the herb and nectar concoction Tsahik gave you after overhearing you complaining to Neytiri about putting your vocal cords under too much pressure. An appreciative hum leaves your parted lips as the mixture soothes your throat, before a male, gravelly and obnoxious “Ah, shit!” cuts through your minute of peace, followed by the clang of a pot falling.

A stunned squeak escapes you before you have the chance to stop it, eyes widening as your ears fold back and your brow muscles raise in shock before furrowing in confusion. A moment passes. 

You slowly crane your neck to look behind you, chancing a glance at whatever, whoever it is that managed to sneak into your marui and elicit such an embarrassing reaction from you. The fallen pot is still rattling on the floor as you lock eyes with the perpetrator and your upper lip raises into a sneer. Of course, you think to yourself, as if the vrrtep has not bothered me enough tonight he has come back for more!

“Oel ngati kameie,” Jake greets awkwardly, eyes shifting between your defensive posture and the offensive pot that he had tripped over in his dazed stupor. He brings his fingertips to his forehead before extending them towards you in a gesture of respect, and for a moment you are pulled from your derisive train of thoughts as your eyes follow the raised veins on his hands and you feel an unfamiliar feeling flutter in the pit of your stomach – much like the kindling of a new flame. Your examination of his anatomy comes to an abrupt stop when your eyes hone in on his outstretched fingers. Four fingers. Alien fingers.

“What is it that you want?” You throw the words at him, eyeing him up and down in an admittedly pathetic attempt to intimidate him. You are well aware of his prowess as a warrior; you’d only spent the latter part of the evening waxing poetic about it. Despite this, you cannot help but feel as if you must prove yourself to be a formidable threat to him, to this man who was once a tawtute imposter in a Na’vi body and has now made himself an imposter in your home.

He inches towards you cautiously, arms outstretched by his sides and palms open, intending to  communicate his lack of malintention as he clears his throat and opens his mouth to answer you. Your eyes remain vigilant, ears pointing up, alert and awaiting his response. A series of unintelligible noises is all you hear, his mouth opening and closing in such a stupid way that you almost find it endearing. Almost.

Further incensed by the lack of answer, you jerk your head towards him, tail lashing behind you, impatient, “What is it then? Speak!” You begin to pace in front of him, agitated and expectant of an explanation. “Or do you only know how to stare?”

As if jolted back to reality, Jake blinks blankly before retorting “Damn, you sound just as good when you talk, pretty girl”. Astounded, your pacing comes to a halt, allowing you to baulk at his insolence – there is a notable pause as you compose yourself once more. His lips pull back into a self-satisfied smirk as he greedily absorbs your reaction, and there is a dangerous glint in his eyes, eyes too small to belong to a native Na’vi, that calls to you. You decline the call decisively.

“You still have not answered my question, Jakesully,” you attempt to regain control of this odd interaction, remaining firm in your affronted demeanour. “Speak!”

He lets out a huff of laughter under his breath, made bashful by the reminder of his inexplicable attraction towards you. “Well…I guess I heard ya singin’ out there and I-” he shakes his head, looks down and brushes a hand over his face, lips puckering to blow a gentle whoosh of air as he exhales. You feel his breath waft over your face and refuse to register the way it stokes the flame within you.

“I knew I gotta tell ya that you sound amazing, heavenly, even, unlike anything I’ve ever hea-” his reverent rambling is cut short by your cackle that pierces his ears that had perked up in delight while he sang your praises. He looks up to observe you doubling over in sarcastic laughter and waits, confused as ever, for you to explain yourself.

“Skxawng,” you rebuke, “do not insult my intelligence by suggesting you understood a single word other than your name. Neytiri has told me of your incompetence,” you lower your voice and let the venom seep into your tone, “Jakesully.”

He meets your narrowed eyes with a challenge in his stare, his right eyebrow, yet another tawtute feature, quirking up. “You’re wrong y’know,” he tilts his head to the right and nods as if still contemplating your rude interjection. In spite of his shock, he does not appear deterred in any way and for a moment you fear that your attempt at resistance is futile. Perhaps you have grossly underestimated his proficiency at your native language and have embarrassed yourself.

He continues, “I understood you calling me a skxawng just now.” A cheeky smile creeps onto his face as he basks in his ability to rile you up. “But I figure that might as well be my name with how many times Neytiri’s called me that”.

Insistent on finding a fault in his words, you give him an incredulous look and respond, “Now you dare to criticise the tsakarem?” A disbelieving scoff leaves your lips. “Impertinence!” Your words, however, do not have their desired effect as he remains unbothered by your jabs, seeing through them completely. 

“C’mon pretty girl,” Jake tries to reason with you, “y’know that’s not what I meant.” Encouraged by the involuntary huff of defeat that leaves your body that has grown weary from the night’s activities and this back and forth that is honestly fraying your nerves, Jake perseveres with the determination of the Marine that he is. “Now stop deflecting ‘nd take the compliment.” You relent, albeit reluctantly. “Call me crazy but the way you sang out there…it felt like I knew exactly what you were sayin’, even with my thick Jarhead skull.”

He takes a breath before more words tumble out of his mouth. “I know you were singin’ about me. I never thought I would mean enough to the Omatikaya people for someone to write a song about me.” He surprises you by laughing self-deprecatingly – in the short time you have interacted with him you have become used to his natural bravado. “I never thought I would be enough for anyone to write a song about me.”

Jake wants to tell you more. He yearns to speak of the cosmic force, the pull he felt towards you the moment he heard your voice for the first time. The pull he feels tugging at his heartstrings now, plucking away at them, composing a tune to accompany the siren song of your voice. For a moment he thinks he might just really believe this Eywa shit now.

But he doesn’t tell you. For once in his life he holds back. Instead, he moves even closer to you, every inch of his eight foot figure towering over you as he encroaches on your personal space. Your eyes widen, pupils dilating as you take him in. All of him. 

Spurred on by your favourable change in expression, Jake reaches forward to place a warm hand on the snug of your neck. His other hand’s forefinger and thumb frame your dazed face as he caresses your cheek with a reverential tenderness you would have never attributed to him. He shifts his grip down to your chin and tilts your face upwards, so that eye meets eye. 

As your steely resolve weakens into something soft, something pliable, you are rendered boneless against your own will, putty in his hands – carbon fiber-reinforced bones be damned. He is held captive by the unexpected, soft trill of your laughter, spirited away by the light breeze that has entered like the melody of a windchime. Eyes of molten gold bore into your soul and he sees you. He Sees you.

- end of flashback -

Seeing Toruk Makto, however, was anything but easy.

You smile to yourself as you recount how you and Jake met, but are quickly sobered by the realisation that no other clan member would even fathom speaking to Jake so disrespectfully – speaking to Toruk Makto so disrespectfully. And so you are forced to confront the reason why you could not stand the man, even if he ensured your clan’s survival by bringing an end to The Great Sorrow.

You fiddle with the purple tassels of your breast covering, made up of the fallen strands of a tawtsngal plant that you had painstakingly braided to be in likeness to the whispering tendrils of the Utraya Mokri. The Tree of Voices.

To the ignorant tawtute that threatened to populate your beloved Eywa’eveng like pests it was simply one of the many flux vortex hubs that rendered their alien inventions useless, stripping them of their ill-perceived superiority and reminding them that they do not belong here. But to you, it was an awe-inspiring wonder that was the source of many a song composed by you and crooned into the ear of a fussy baby, sung to soothe an ill elder or belted out to relay the ballad of a beloved fallen warrior.

With the stories whispered in your ears by the ancestors, you weave the tapestry of the clan in song form. It is for this reason that Jake had taken to affectionately calling you ‘parrot’, explaining to you that they were birds that once lived on Earth and repeated what was said by others.

Your garment was not only of totemic value, symbolising your role in the clan as an esteemed singer, but was also a love letter to the sacred place that birthed your passion for the art of song - and in doing so established your roots in the intricate network of the clan.

If only you had known of what was to come, you lament. That a day would come when the very roots of the tree that planted you firmly within the clan would be so easily uprooted by the wretched Sky People and their demon machines. On that day, you felt as if your place in the clan was uprooted with it; you had lost your communication channel with the ancestors, and therefore your muse. 

You sit up and detach Jake’s arm, limp with sleep, from your waist. As you look upon his face you try to reconcile all the affection he has extended to you with the fact that he once was a Sky Person, working for their destructive cause.

Before you can stop it, the familiar feeling of resentment stirs within your belly as you question why the Great Mother would choose to allow  your life’s joy to be so mercilessly taken from you and yet bestow the revered title of Toruk Makto on such a man as Jake.

How could she turn her back on you? Strip your pride from you? Replace you with a man born not of Na’vi, but of the immoral tawtute? You cannot help but feel that Jake is more Omatikaya than you ever will be now, as you think of what you long to be. 

His mate.

Mate to Toruk Makto, rider of last shadow, yet unworthy to stand with him, even in his shadow. The honour of being under this dark, ominous, yet protective shroud was reserved for a select few - the chosen ones. Proven warriors who have sacrificed their lives, their existence on this terrestrial plane for Toruk Makto, like Tsu’tey, or dutiful daughters who have overcome prejudices born from murder for Toruk Makto, like Neytiri. Not for glorified parrots. Not for you.

You heave a gentle sigh, banishing those thoughts with a soft shake of your head and rest your head back on Jake’s shoulder. Tense shoulders loosen as you shuffle back into the warm comfort of his body. Your finger begins tracing again, up, up, up his arm before a tentative hand opens up to grasp one of his larger ones.

Curious eyes explore the network of veins that branch out along his hand like the roots of a tree, like the roots of the Utraya Mokri. You feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you reminisce the first time you had been in such proximity to the veins on his hand and the feelings they aroused in you back then.

Perhaps, you muse, you could find solace in him the same way you once did in your sacred trees. You lean in, pursed lips relaxing to place a tender kiss on each of Jake's fingers, all four of them. The same fingers that once instilled a deep rage within you. The same fingers that held you with a love that can only be Eywa-given. The same fingers used to tame the mighty Toruk. A part of you, no matter how distant or small, knows that in these capable hands you can rest easy.

So yes, your struggle to See Toruk Makto may yet prevail, but Jake? Jake you would always See. It is with this conclusion that your hold on his arm slackens, and half-lidded eyes flutter close. You slot yourself into the space within his body that is made for you. Two bodies mould into one. Little spoon into big spoon.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

na’vi dictionary

palulukan - thanator // tanhi - na’vi bioluminescent freckles // pongu pongu - na’vi alcoholic beverage // kenten - fan lizards // marui - tent // oel ngati kameie - I see you // skxawng - idiot // tsakarem - tsahik-in-training // tawtsngal - purple pandoran flower // tawtute - sky person, sky people // eywa’eveng - na’vi word for pandora

© iwantjaketosullyme tumblr 2023

#✦•·.· 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴 ·.·•✦ #jake sully x reader #jake sully #avatar x reader #avatar fanfiction #avatar imagine #jake sully x omaticaya!reader #jake sully fanfiction #avatar #jake sully imagine #avatar x omaticaya!reader

[ohhimjustagirl]

one day i’ll attain a bullets cd. no matter what. ain’t no mountain high enough ain’t no valley low enough ain’t no river wide enough to keep me from coming to you. i got the eye of the tiger. i will have my vengeance in this life or the next. i am not afraid to keep on living. i am the master of my fate, i am the captain of my soul.

#my chemical romance #mcr #i brought you my bullets you brought me your love #marvin gaye #survivor #gladiator #the black parade #famous last words #invictus #guess my favourite album you madlad