#the private wedding is canon

[shirolian]

Thorn Witch and Ivy King

The day of our wedding is finally drawing near. After a month of preparations upon the insistence of my mother, we all were beside ourselves with joy that this arduous journey is at the end. Very little remained from mine and Leopold’s wedding plans but we knew that opposition would not end up well. At least the prolonged waiting gave us time to get to know each other better. The two weeks that we spent together in the palace were marred by the constant pressure and threat that I would be selected as prince’s Guillaume bride, which, in the end, came to pass. When my name was called forth by the King and I had to step forward, my mind was only filled with the thoughts of Leopold and his proposal that he made the night before. Luckily, before anything could be announced, the door to the Throne room bursted open, Leopold standing in the doorway. He whisked me away in front of the whole court, leaving the King no choice but to withdraw, lest he risked public humiliation. 

Reminiscing about the past, I wistfully ignored my mother’s speech as she went once again through the guest list. Our family, di Parisi, is the most powerful noble House in the land with the exception of the Royal House and therefore as it stands, mother invited everyone who means something. Knowing that Leopold is not opposing my mother’s wedding plans precisely for this reason, I keep reading my book about Tremaine’s geography. 

“Daughter, are you listening?” The sharp voice interrupts my thoughts and I glance up. 

“Yes mother? Something on your mind?”

“I said that I invited the King and his son, the Prince. However the accommodations will have to be the best in the house and thus you and duke Stavizzi will make do with your own bedroom.” Mother informed me, her gaze once again falling on the guest list in her hands. 

“Won’t it be awkward though, for the King and the Prince? And do you plan to also invite his new fianceé, Lady Francesca? I would rather avoid having to endure unfriendly gazes at my own wedding.”

Mother’s sharp inhale answered on its own, the words following right behind.

“Out of question, di Parisi will have the King present or else this House will become a laughing stock of the whole country and my work at court would be all naught.”

Sighing, I close the book, my expression pleasant as ever. 

“As you wish, mother.”

Summer days were always considered best for weddings because of the high probability of having sunny weather. It was so on the day of ours. Actually, as my mother wished to have a grand wedding worthy of di Parisi, it was agreed that me and Leopold would have a private ceremony the day before the official festivities. At first the idea of the farce irritated me because it meant that our public wedding would be there only for show, to display the power of the di Parisi House. However, the more the guest list grew, so grew my conviction that it’s probably for the best and using my wits, I secured my mother’s permission to arrange our private and very real ceremony as me and Leopold see fit. 

Standing in front of the mirror, I observe my simple white gown. Tonight, I will wed Leopold as myself, Eloise di Parisi. Tomorrow, in my place will be the daughter of the duke of Florentia and so will the dress change accordingly for a more ornate and luxurious one. 

“Minette, are you really quite sure about this?” Frederique, my dearest brother, hoovers behind me, with a silver hairpin in his palm. I can see his worried expression full of doubts about Leopold’s true intentions. The popular narrative? Cunning as fox and cold as ice, the duke Stavizzi charmed the daughter of the most powerful House in the Kingdom just so he could snag her rich dowry and better his social standing at the court.

“Frederique, place that hairpin in my hair already lest I will think you intend to bet it in your next game of cards,” I smile gently at him and hear his sigh as his worries are promptly brushed off the table. Carefully, he places the hairpin in my updo and observes his work briefly.

“I sincerely hope, sister, that you’ll find happiness in this marriage. You must be happy, for all of us who remain stuck here,” he says with a bittersweet smile and I turn to him, taking his hand in mine.

“You are not the heir of our House, you still have a chance for escape and I believe you will make the most of it.” The reminder makes him nod in agreement and he squeezes my hand, reassuring us both that someday he will make it happen. We then glance to the window, the sun is setting down and the gentle golden rays cast an otherworldly glow on my white dress. 

“Come, sister, let’s make you a married woman.” Frederique’s smile softens and linking my arm with his, he escorts me outside to our private chapel.

The sun is almost set on the horizon when I enter our small chapel in the company of my brother. Hundreds of candles are lit and casting its golden light on the painted walls of holy murals. Hearing us enter, Leopold, dressed in white just like me, turns around and our eyes meet. His gaze is gentle and loving and I return the feelings, conveying the very same with my own expression. In a short moment we cross the distance between the door and the chapel's altar, Frederique releasing my arm from his.

“Take care of my sister, will you?” He says and stands aside as the only witness, along with the priest present.

I glance briefly at Lepold by my left side and he chuckles softly, apparently doing the same. The priest clears his throat, expression amused by our antics and he opens the book of Saints Prayers, placing two silver rings upon it. I shouldn’t feel nervous but here I am, trying to calm down my frantic breathing. The rings received the Holy Blessing and Leopold offers me his hand. When I place my smaller palm upon his, the priest bestows a red silken ribbon to signify the union. 

“Leopold, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after Saints ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health so long as you both shall live?”

“I will.” 

“Eloise, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after Saints ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey and serve him, love, honour and keep him in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?”

“I will.” My voice is a bit shaky but I swear the oath nonetheless. The priest removes the silken ribbon, offering us the book of Saint Prayers with the rings. I turn slightly to my left and Leopold takes the ring decorated with sapphire. Gently taking my hand in his other one, his grey eyes gaze into mine. Whoever said that he is marrying me for my name would be proven wrong at this very moment, for his eyes speak nothing but love. 

“With this ring I thee wed…” He pauses for a moment and starts sliding the ring down upon my finger. “...and with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow.” 

The ring, secured on my finger, shines and I can feel my cheeks flush with warmth. Reaching for the second matching ring without any gem, I feel like my legs might give out at any moment. My hand shakes slightly and he notices, instantly taking it in his own and caressing it reassuringly with his thumb. In silence, I slide his ring on and gaze up. 

“In the name of all Saints, I pronounce that they be man and wife together.”

I exhale in relief and Leo smiles warmly. He places a hand on my back pulling me closer while his other hand laces with my fingers clasping our hands together. He bends down slightly and his nose brushes with my own. It’s not our first kiss but I blush either way due to the presence of others. The soft and very brief sensation of his lips upon mine passes all too quickly and my eyes flutter open, taking in the handsome face of my now husband. 

“Eloise Stavizzi, Duchess of Tremaine.” He says my new name and title, enjoying the sound of it. And, to be honest, I like it too. Very much so - not because of its grandeur, but because it ties me to Leo, the man I love dearly as one can love someone whom you know for two months.

“Husband.” I reply, smiling fondly and he places another kiss on my cheek.

“Dearest.”

Frederique snorts in the background and the priest flashes us a benevolent smile while Leo links our arms and, together, we walk outside into the starry night.

[despair-ninja-everything-agency]

ThanCole stole SniperSpy’s wedding outfits >:3c

Bit o’ a cheeky bonus to the WoLCred week thingy and also a tribute to @kirame90​ ‘s SniperSpy comic series. Y’all should check it out, especially if you’re into TF2 and, most importantly, a fellow SniperSpy shipper like me.

I encountered that SniperSpy comic, like, 2 or 3 months ago as it’s coming closer to conclusion. Word cannot describe how I feel about the comic series, but it made me laugh and cry and feel all sorts of feelings. I admire how the story told, how the couple having to deal with their blooming relationship, the comedy that is the other mercs, Sniper’s parents, the exploration of Spy’s past and how it affects him till present day. Highly recommend you to read it. Be warned that it’s a long read, but I promise it’s worth the journey. You can start reading it from page one over here :3c

As for the glam itself, finding Spy’s tuxedo wasn’t hard as there’s a couple of good tux top in FFXIV and I managed to work out his corsage with a yellow hyacinth corsage for the yellow leaves and a purple carnation earring for the small flower. Alas, you can’t layer headgears so no baclava/ninja mask. As for Sniper’s, while I managed to find a good fit, it’s sadly missing the tie. On the other hand, I like the bracelet (iirc it’s a StormBlood dungeon drop) as his wristwatch.

Overall, I’m really proud of this getup. Might post it to Eorzea Collection if I feel like it uwub

------

Feel like I wanna include this here as well. @miqomischief​ , I found you out from Biff and while I don’t know much about you just yet, I’m sending all my supports and positive thoughts at your direction OwO/ Hope your journey is a fulfilling one. ‘Tis ain’t much, just a self-indulgence, but I’d like to share you my WoLCred ship all the same. And, hey! If you want and you’re into TF2 as well, maybe you can check out the comic I linked above. Who knows if it can brighten your day or at least amuse you :3 ------

Bonus under the cut:

ThanCole demands a costume switch while implicitly roasting Sniper’s sense of fashion

*For context, a Gunbreaker’s weapon is a sword... that can shoot magic boolets

[demilypyro]

demily I'd normally vote for lesbians but good omens is one of my favourite shows of all time, so please sell me on suletta x miorine before I choose the old men situationship

Okay then here we go *cracks knuckles*

So there's this daughter of the CEO of a giant tech corp, Miorine, who wants to escape from her private school because her dad intends to make her marry whoever is the best at Giant Robot Fights.

She meets this random country girl, Suletta, who just started attending the school. Suletta inadvertently is the best at Giant Robot Fights because she has a crazy good robot, making her Miorine's fiance, and Miorine suddenly decides "hang on this might not be so bad."

Suletta was not aware that being gay was an option, but once she realizes that's on the table, she instantly becomes head over heels for Miorine.

They repeatedly refer to themselves as being bride and groom, and their relationship's importance is constantly recognized and affirmed by the people around them. Their relationship is central to the plot.

A lot of stuff happens, but some highlights:

Miorine sees Suletta being targeted by the corporations, and she decides to use her knowledge of the corporate world to start her own company so she can protect Suletta. This is a significant moment because it goes against her earlier wishes to escape the corporate world; protecting Suletta is more important to her. When asked why she did this, she calls herself Suletta's bride.

Suletta constantly talks about having a wedding with Miorine

Suletta tries to kill a guy for getting between her and Miorine (as she should)

Miorine makes Suletta promise to stay with her forever, and text her three times a day. Suletta does this dutifully. (Needy x Indulgent is such a cute dynamic)

Miorine tries to push Suletta away for her own protection. This backfires. Suletta forgives and comforts her.

Miorine tells Suletta's mom that they should get along since they're going to be family (power move)

They are featured together in the intro and ending of every episode.

They get married at the end of the series, and wear rings in the ending. Suletta becomes a school teacher, and Miorine uses her successful company to support her.

Gundam Witch is a love story. Suletta and Miorine are canon and they are married. It's an incredibly significant relationship because gay marriage isn't even legal in Japan, but it's treated as normal in the show. They are so important to me. Thank you for coming to my ted talk. Yuri will save the world, goodbye

[sim0nril3y]

The Honeymoon

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Fun, fun, fun on the honeymoon, need I say more? Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), very soft, very fluffy, very smutty, p in v sex, honeymoon sex, breeding kink, wife kink all things good, feral Simon, canon-typical swearing.

You weren’t sure that you’d seen another time where Simon was more relaxed than on your honeymoon. Whilst the wedding had been exceptionally small and intimate, he’d spare no expense on the honeymoon. Mykonos, three weeks. There was a private beachside villa which also had the most amazing pool, Simon had hired a car for the time you’d be there, he’d organised everything perfectly. “Nothing less for my perfect wife.” He'd told you, railing into you passionately from behind as you gazed out over the balcony that first evening.

In ways that his sex-drive typically fluctuated back home, there was something about being here that seemed to send it sky high. Maybe it was all the beautiful beachy outfits that you were wearing, or maybe it was the way you lounged under the bathing sun, or maybe it was that ring that lay so prettily on your left hand now. It was official, you were his and he was yours and everyone fucking knew it. Whenever he’d see that piece of jewellery sparkling under the sun he had to have you, he was practically insatiable. It didn’t seem to matter where you were, lounging on a sunbed by the pool, walking through the streets home from dinner, even shocking you in a vineyard tour where he snuck you away into a nearby cupboard to have his way with you.

After an evening of good wine and even better food the two of you returned to the villa. You collapsed back onto the sofa, beginning to remove your strappy heels whilst Simon made himself busy pouring a couple more glasses of wine. “’ere, Mrs Riley…” He saunters towards you, looking mouth-watering in his thin linen shirt, very few buttons keeping it together now. “Thanks.” You say softly, throwing one shoe aside and accepting the glass from his hands as he took a seat on the artsy coffee table in front of you, carefully taking your other ankle into his hands and lifting, stroking your calf in a soothing way as you leaned back and let out a low sigh.

Those meaty fingers were so delicate as they began to untie the straps of your heel, unravelling them slowly. “Y’look a knockout, babe.” He mentioned, voice soft and eyes cast down to remove your shoe, pressing the pads of his thumbs into the arching arch of your foot causing a moan to pull from your throat. “Fuckin’ glowing…” He mentioned, you bit the inside of your cheek. “My beautiful fuckin’ wife…” Then those dark eyes drifted up your frame finally coming to a stop on your face. “Show ‘er to me.” Simon’s voice was a low drawl, needy having being away from your precious cunt for more than a few hours. “Si~” You purred. “Jus’ quick…”

Slowly you licked at your lips before being unable to fight your smile, fingers curling tightly around the hem of your dress before dragging it up to display your naked pussy to his hungry eyes. “No knickers?” His voice was dangerous low, eyes no longer on your own and watching your cunt, you shook your head. “All night?” Another shake whilst raising your leg to plant a foot on the sofa beside you, spreading yourself further to his wonting eyes. “Dirty fuckin’ girl…” Simon muttered. “Y’killing me here.”

A tender giggle pulled from your throat, leaning your head back, your left hand drifting down as two fingers traced over your cunt lips, spreading them, gliding across your slit and all the while your wedding ring gleamed and glistened. Simon watched, his mouth popped open just slightly, ragged breaths escaping. “Fuck me.” He whispered, watching eagerly as those two fingers sunk into your wanting walls. “Fuck~” You hiccupped softly.

Simon shuffled closer, watching as your fingers pressed in and out of your walls with a quiet ‘shlck, shlck, shlck’ all the while. “Good girl.” He breathed, falling to his knees, pressing a few wayward kisses to your thighs as he leaned close. “Pretty fuckin’ wife.” It seemed as if he was talking to himself, pushing down his trousers and his cock bobbing out, painfully hard, cum dripping from the tip. “Gonna let me fuck you?” He asked then, looking up at your pleasure filled face, brows pinched, breaths low and pulled from deep. “I know, I know. You wanna cum. Let me help.” His lips ghosted over the back of your hand as those fingers buried deep. “Let your husband help.”

To say that Simon was obsessed with calling you his wife and himself your husband was an understatement. It was beginning to sneak into almost every conversation, but especially in the throes of passion. Simon had you pressed into that sofa moments later, fucking you deep, calling you his pretty wife, his perfect wife, his beautiful wife, loving his wife’s beautiful cunt, feeding his wife her husband’s cock because she needed it. God, if it didn’t drive you wild too. There was something so unhinged yet so tender about it all that really made you both crave it.

And when he finished there was a promise on his lips. “Knock you up.” It was a faint growl but you heard it clear as day and you wished for his words to come true. He pumped you full, seated inside of you for a good long while as if allowing his seed more time to truly take hold, but during that time his words were sweet and his lips were warm against your skin, whispering the most beautiful and endearing things.

This was the place you wanted to stay forever, this was the Simon you always wanted to love.

Masterlist | Ask | 26-05-2024

[pathologicalreid]

for the fear of falling apart - masterlist

you've always had a picturesque idea of how your life would turn out. finding out that your sister is in love with your boyfriend wasn't part of that picture.

completed series

re: a rewrite of the jeid plotline from season 15 of criminal minds, featuring spencer reid x jareau!reader, goes from 14x15 "truth or dare" through 15x10 "and in the end"

part one

↳ after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding

part two

↳ returning to Everett Lynch's case, you try to redefine normalcy with Spencer and JJ, but Grace Lynch has other plans for you

part three

↳ when it seems like a return to normalcy is impossible, you decide that something has to give, but will it bend or will it break?

part four

↳ you missed the paperwork that said joining the BAU meant having an unstable personal life, and Cat Adams is dedicated to making sure you know nothing is ever private

part five

↳ there's one last chance for everything to fall apart, but this time you aren't at the center of disaster - Spencer is

epilogue

↳ good things come to those who wait, and you're finally getting your happy ending

taglist: i've had a lot of people ask to be tagged and i'm trying my best to keep up with it, but if you'd like to be tagged, you can comment/reblog this post or my inbox and messages are open! please note that this is just a taglist for this series and not an all encompassing jareau!reader taglist.

a/n: okay so here it is, my goal is to have one part up each week. additionally, i'm telling you all right now that the canon timeline does not exist in this series.

all parts and yap sessions relating to this series are tagged with #ffofa on this blog

[girlkisser13]

being married to erik lehnsherr would include

• erik is EXTREMELY protective of you. he uses his powers subtly to ensure your safety, like redirecting bullets or stopping potential threats without you even noticing.

• when you’re driving he will use his powers to move a car over if he thinks that they’re drifting into your lane.

• as his partner, you have a significant role in his plans and strategies. your insights and ideas are crucial, and he trusts you implicitly with major decisions.

• balancing erik’s often ruthless methods with your own moral compass can be challenging. you constantly strive to find a middle ground, helping him see different perspectives while understanding his deep-rooted convictions.

• erik loves to shares his vast experiences from different historical events, giving you a unique perspective on history and the evolution of mutant-human relations.

• being with erik means constantly learning and evolving. he encourages you to hone your skills, whether they’re related to your powers (if you have any) or other talents.

• despite his tough exterior, erik shows his softer side only to you. his love for you is profound and unwavering, and he cherishes every moment spent with you.

• you both enjoy challenging each other intellectually. debates are a common occurrence, and they often end in mutual respect and deeper understanding of each other's viewpoints.

• erik shows his love in small, meaningful ways, like always having your favorite tea ready or ensuring you have a warm blanket when you’re cold, using his powers to fetch things without you asking.

• you both share a strong commitment to the mutant cause. whether it’s through activism, helping mutants in need, or fighting against oppression, your relationship is a powerful force for change.

• despite the constant battles and responsibilities, erik always makes time for private getaways with you. these retreats are a chance to relax, reconnect, and enjoy each other’s company away from the chaos.

• HIM LETTING YOU WEAR HIS HELMET>>>

• the two of you often host gatherings for the mutant community, providing a space for mutants to connect, share their stories, and support each other. these events are filled with a sense of unity and purpose.

• trust is the cornerstone of your relationship. despite the challenges and dangers, you both have unwavering loyalty to each other, knowing that your bond is unbreakable.

• erik respects your independence and ensures that responsibilities are shared equally. whether it’s managing your home or leading missions, you both contribute and support each other’s strengths.

• if you have children, erik is a fiercely protective and loving parent. he’s dedicated to teaching them about their heritage, powers, and the importance of fighting for their rights.

• GIRL DAD MAGNETO>>>

• i mean come on, it’s basically canon that this man is a girl dad. look at the way he treats wanda and lorna compared to pietro.

• he occasionally shows off his abilities in small, romantic gestures, like creating intricate metal sculptures for you and arranging a metal flower bouquet that never wilts.

• your house is adorned with thousands of metal flowers he's crafted for you.

• he's also made countless pieces of jewelry for you as well.

• he made your wedding ring himself. <33

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 13

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, I gave Kallias a random younger brother that is decisively not canon, and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Elain and Lucien's wedding would take place around midday when the sun was in its highest position, as it was tradition in the Day Court. After that, it would involve a whole afternoon, evening and night of eating and drinking and quite frankly, it sounded like torture as far as Azriel was concerned.

Belatedly he wondered if this was what Eira would want. Did Eira want a huge wedding with plenty of guests? A Court occasion of sorts?

If she wanted it, he would go along with it. Of course, he would. But it still made him wonder…made him wonder if this was actually what she wanted or if she wanted something smaller, more intimate…

At least the midday wedding meant that they could have a slow morning…Breakfast together, before they all needed to get dressed and be properly presentable. 

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise him that he and Eira were the first ones awake. 

He found his mate curled up in a silky blue dressing gown, trimmed with lace,  on the balcony, nursing a cup of tea, while the shadows were already fussing with her hair.

Azriel took a moment to simply take her in. The way her hair spilt out over her shoulders, the way the silky material of her dressing gown clung to her, showing off her form to perfection…The shadows loved the dressing gown. They swirled around it, clearly delighted by the silky blue fabric and the lace-trimmed edges. Azriel loved that dressing gown too. 

Eira looked up and smiled at him. "Good Morning."

"Good morning," he replied with a soft smile, coming to sit down next to her. The shadows immediately wound around his wrists and flitted to her shoulders, caressing her, and Azriel chuckled at the way more of them immediately buried themselves into her hair.

"They seem to be hard at work already," he quipped, as Eira rolled her eyes. 

"They have plans," she told him earnestly, making him laugh.

Azriel chuckled again, watching the shadows play with her hair, even as she brought the teacup back to her lips. "Plans, hm?" he asked, a teasing note in his voice as one of the shadows brushed the hair behind her ear, almost as a caress.

Azriel chuckled again, watching the shadows frizzing her hair, even as she brought the teacup back to her lips. "Plans, hm?" he asked, a teasing note in his voice as one of the shadows brushed the hair behind her ear, almost as a caress.

Hair curled and open. Maybe some hydrangeas, they match her dress, the shadows told him brightly.

From where will you get the flowers? he asked carefully.

We’ll take them from The Seer's private garden when we...change the centrepieces, The shadows answered.

Azriel had to suppress a laugh at that answer. Of course, they had stolen them.

"So, hydrangeas, hm?" he repeated, and Eira gave him a suspicious look as the shadows continued to play with her hair.

"I have no clue," Eira said drily. "They haven't told me yet. I…” she trailed off, looking at him. “..We made a bargain yesterday," she blurted out suddenly.

He could just stare at her. What?!

Azriel stared at her as she spoke, completely thrown off guard.

"You...bargained with the shadows?" he asked her, his voice sounding a bit strangled. That was possible? He hadn’t known that was possible. 

"What? No! I accidentally bargained with you!" Eira said quickly, holding out her hand for him. He took in the small, slim fingers, and then saw the thin band of black encircling her ring finger.

What?!

Azriel's eyes widened at that, and he stared at the band of black ink on her finger. How had he not noticed that earlier?

Right, where a wedding ring would sit. His eyes snapped to her, taking in the wide blue-grey eyes of Eira.

"We promised to tell each other when we had a bad day," he recounted his voice hoarse. He hadn't noticed the feeling of a mark, that burning, so...his eyes went to his wrapped hand, pulling back the wrapping. Right there on his own hand, a perfect match to hers. Encircling his own ring finger.  Thicker than Eira's, but at the same place.  Azriel stared at it, stunned.

How...they were bound. Bound by a bargain.

He looked up at her, completely thrown off guard. "I...I didn't notice," he said hoarsely, his voice low. "I didn't do it on purpose," he assured her, and Eira looked at him, her eyes soft.

"I didn't think you did," she promised him. "I just...I wanted you to know."

He looked at her for a long while, taking in her wide eyes and vulnerable expression. Gods, she looked scared. Like she honestly believed that he would be angry at her, or blame her. Azriel's face softened considerably at that, and he slowly reached out a hand to cup her face, pulling her closer.

“Cauldron, Eira. I'm not angry," he assured her quietly, and he could feel the way her shoulders sagged at that as if the words had been a relief to her. "I...I like the idea of having you with me like that," he told her honestly.

Everywhere he went, the mark would be there too.

Eira stared at him for a moment, and he could see the way her eyes went to the mark on his hand, the way hers looked mirrored against his.

"You...you do?" Eira asked him quietly, almost like she didn't quite believe him.

Azriel softened, his thumb caressing her cheek as he leaned even closer. "Of course I do," he told her quietly. "Having you with me always? That's not a bad thing, Sweetheart."

It seemed that the nickname managed to make Eira's cheeks flush a bit, a small, shy smile appearing on her face. The shadows swirled around her face excitedly at that, and Azriel could have sworn that he heard them coo at Eira faintly.

Azriel's smile turned into a smirk, and he leaned down, his breath ghosting against her ear and making Eira shiver in response. "They're swooning at you, you know," he told her in a low voice, and the shadows swatted him faintly in protest, making him laugh.

"They do that," he continued, and he moved his mouth down to the side of her neck. "They absolutely adore you, darling."

He placed a kiss against her skin, and he could feel the gooseflesh rising underneath his lips. Good.

Eira shuddered at the words and his mouth against her skin, her eyes fluttering shut and he was struck once again by how sensitive she was. 

It only made his smirk grow.

Azriel's mouth moved against her skin, placing kisses against her slender neck and making her shudder again.

He loved this.

Seeing how she reacted to the simplest touch. How his kisses would make her flush and shiver. Gods, he wanted her.

And then he pulled back as he heard a door open, Eira blinking owlishly at him.

Azriel suppressed another laugh at her dazed expression as she looked at him. He would have very much liked to continue his quest to make her blush, but for now...well, Cassian walked onto the balcony at that moment.

And then as much as Azriel would have liked to continue...he couldn't because the rest of their family appeared, and soon enough, breakfast was served and everybody was getting dressed.

Breakfast was a short affair, as everybody wanted to make sure that they had enough time to properly get ready for the wedding, and Azriel was soon standing in the wardrobe of their rooms, staring into his own reflection in the mirror.

He did not do that often. Most often, because half the time he saw his own father stare back at him, and that wasn't something he ever wanted to think about.

He looked like him. He hated that fact. Hated that his mother saw him any time she looked at Azriel. But there was nothing he could do to change that. 

Today the shadows seemingly weren't content with only fussing over Eira, because Azriel got the same treatment, with his hair tidily combed over his forehead.

That's not black, he hissed at them as they freed the jacket he would wear from the wardrobe. It wasn't. He didn't even own another colour but black, but clearly, tonight, the shadows had other ideas. Granted, at least it wasn't bright yellow. It was blue. Dark blue. A very dark blue.

Good, the shadows told him in response, the darkness swirling around his shoulders. You need colour.

Azriel suppressed a scoff. He did not need colour, he liked black, thank you very much!

It matches her gown, the shadows protested in response. Azriel closed his eyes. Of course. He should have known.

They were in a mood, Azriel could tell. A mood to be utterly fussy, if the way they were straightening his collar and the jacket was an indicator. And Azriel knew them well enough by now to realise that arguing wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he just let them do as they pleased.

In the end, he couldn't tell if he liked the result or not. At least he didn't look outright ridiculous.

Dark blue fabric encased broad shoulders closed with silver buttons. There was just a touch of silvery embroidery along the edge of the sleeves. Not too much. It wasn't...as showy as it could be.

Still, Rhys and Cassian took a second look at him as he left the bedroom to join them in waiting for their mates.

"Well don't you look nice, Shadowsinger," Cassian commented with a slight smirk. Azriel just rolled his eyes at him in response.

"I did not pick that," he informed his brother honestly, and Cassian snickered in response.

"Let me guess," Rhys drawled, clearly amused. "The shadows?"

Azriel grunted in response. The truth was obvious and both his brothers knew it, and judging by the smirks on their faces, they were more than willing to tease Azriel about it.

"I think it looks nice!" Feyre said brightly as she stepped out of the room, swathed in purple tulle, while Nesta had slipped into a crimson silk gown, held up by thin straps...but he didn't even really take notice of that.

How could he? How could he do that, when Eira was right behind them. How could he even notice them, when his mate was there, in a muted blue dress, shot through with silver?

By the cauldron.

He had never in his life seen anything more beautiful. Anything more beautiful than Eira. Eira in that dress that bared her shoulders, that cut straight across her chest and did little to hide the swell of her breasts...that had a pair of useless swathes of tulle across her upper arms and otherwise just left acres of unblemished, creamy white skin open to his gaze. It cut in at the waist, but fell to the floor in layers upon layers of blue and silver, shifting the colour with every step she made...if lightning had been made into a dress, this was it. If Eira had been made into a dress, this was it.

She was so goddamn beautiful.

As if she could sense his stare, Eira's eyes flickered up and met his, and he saw how her cheeks flushed.

Perfect. So beautiful, the shadows cooed excitedly, swirling around her. Our Mate. Ours.

As if he needed any more proof of that. The shadows had never before in all his life been so excited and happy as when they fussed over Eira.

He must have stared at her like a fish because she self-consciously clenched her hands in her skirts.

It broke him out of his staring. He swallowed.

"You look breathtaking," Azriel whispered breathlessly as she came up to him. He couldn't keep himself from reaching out to grasp her hand, bringing it up to his mouth to brush a kiss against her knuckles, and the bargain tattoo and her skin burned under his lips in response.

"Like a bolt of lightning," he told her quietly, and he saw her breath hitch in response.

"Thank you," Eira breathed out quietly, her cheeks still flushed from his words, but a shy, happy smile on her face that made Azriel's heart skip a beat.

The shadows swarmed around her, caressing her hair and her skin, even her dress, and it seemed that they were utterly unwilling to let her go. They loved her like this.

Azriel wasn't surprised. He loved her like this too.

He couldn't help but notice the details...Her long, caramel-coloured hair was pulled away from her face but fell to her waist in carefully done curls, a few sprigs of Hydrangeas pinned to the back of her head...

The silver threaded bag she held in her hand, the sapphire necklace around her throat, the matching bracelet...The shadows had their fun.

"You'll make the bride jealous," Cassian commented lightly, and Nesta elbowed him in the side for that.

But...Cassian wasn't wrong. A lot of the attention would go towards Eira, looking like...looking like that. Azriel just ignored the little part of him which preened at that idea. His.

He would have loved to just pull her closer, hold her, just let his hands wander over that fabric, just feel her against him, but...the others were there. Which was a good thing, because if she let his hands wander, he would probably start doing things that were not very appropriate to do in front of their family.

So instead he squeezed the hand he had still been holding, and then tucked it in the crook of her neck. "I'll be the luckiest male today," he told her honestly, watching, charmed beside himself how her cheeks flamed again.

"The groom may disagree with you there," Eira gave back quietly.

"He'll have to deal with it," Azriel said with a smirk, and he heard a snort from beside him, which was certainly Rhys.

Eira just glanced at him under lowered lashes, biting her lip to suppress a smile.

He was utterly in love with this female, wasn't he?

The shadows swarmed around her for a moment, and he watched them cover her shoulders with a pelt...the pelt he had given her. Mountain Lion, not a question about it. They tucked it over her gown, so that she wouldn't get cold…another bit of attention, another show of how she was his. 

He heard the sharp inhale from Cassian and felt the look from Rhys. 

Azriel swallowed and stared at the pelt, at the way it was laid over her shoulders. Gods, she was wearing his pelt. She looked so utterly his, with the pelt over her shoulders. 

The pelt of the animal he had killed. Illyrian Tradition dictated a pelt given by the groom to his wife on their wedding day. If Azriel wanted to scream from the rooftops that Eira was his...well, that would have been more subtle.

The implication was very, very clear, and Azriel knew that Cassian and Rhys knew what the gesture had meant.

The look on Cassian's face certainly indicated as much, and when Azriel glanced over, his brother's hazel eyes were wide as he stared at the pelt on Eira's shoulders. Rhys' lips were lifted in the hint of a smile.

Staking your claim? Rhys whispered in his mind and Azriel growled in response. Yes. Yes, he was.

****

A bolt of lightning.

The words left her stunned and breathless for a moment, and she wondered at the way his deep voice sent shivers down her spine. He was the one to call her beautiful when he looked...the way he looked.

Eira could feel the burn of his lips on her knuckles, as well as the way the shadows had wound themselves around her, making her shiver faintly.

They were loud today. Practically singing in joy.

Eira tried very, very hard not to blush, she really did, but with the way Azriel’s eyes had looked upon her...the way the shadows had swirled around her almost excitedly...she couldn't help it. She knew the others were looking at her, and she could feel the way their gazes travelled over her. Over her necklace, her bracelet, her dress...but all she could focus on was him.

Him. So beautiful. So Handsome, clad in his navy jacket, shot through with silver, a perfect foil to her gown...she just knew that it was the shadows doing. All she wanted to do for a moment was to kiss him. To spend a whole evening doing nothing but that.

She knew that was a bad idea though, especially with the eyes of the others on them, and she couldn't even look at his mouth without wanting to kiss him, so instead she bit the inside of her own lip, to distract herself from the longing, from the need to kiss him.

Her sister's wedding was beautiful. Though there was not one lily in sight as far as Eira could see. She wondered if her sister had changed her mind about her choice of florals or… Or if the shadows that darted through the temple had anything to do with it. Getting their own form of petty revenge.

She had to admit, it was amusing to think about. To imagine the shadows swerving through the flowers in the temple, making it so there were no lilies. She could imagine it too, because the shadows loved to be meddlesome. But at least they were only so towards people they cared for.

They loved her, she knew that. As far as they had feelings, they loved her. They adored her. And judging by how they were still swirling around her skirts, and how she felt Azriel's gaze on her through most of the ceremony, he was well aware of that fact.

For just one moment Eira allowed herself to wonder. Were they ever going to make it down the aisle? She didn't want a huge production like that. It was gorgeous, with all the High Lords in attendance, Helion having clearly spared no expense for the wedding of his son and heir...

No. She didn't want that. She was never a big fan of being the centre of attention, never mind being the focus of this many people. But...She did want him. Wanted to be Azriel's.

Something small...intimate. Something that was just theirs and their families...that would suit Eira perfectly well. Maybe with Azriel's mother in attendance...with her sister and their mates...something small. No need for dozens of guests.

She just wanted him.

Still, she passed a smile on her face as Elain got married, and she realised startled that she felt indifferent about it all. Good for Elain. She wished that her sister was happy. But Eira...Eira didn't...there was just nothing in the way she was feeling that felt like she actually cared anymore.

Elain had burned that out of her chest.

And she honestly didn't know how to feel about that. She knew how guilty she probably should feel, but her heart felt empty.

No love, no happiness, no joy, no sorrow either...just an empty hollow feeling. A nothingness.

Which was a stark contrast to how she felt when she glanced at Azriel, at the shadows swirling around her.

He filled her with so much, and she didn't know how to react to that feeling either.

Though the feeling when Azriel led her out on the dance floor and swirled her around...when he lifted her with his hands around her waist like she weighed nothing...that was a wonder.

She felt giddy, letting him spin her around the dance floor, the layers of her skirts flaring out around them as he did. She hadn't danced in so long, that she had almost forgotten the feeling of the world flying past...until now until he lifted her and span her around as she weighed next to nothing.

By the gods, he was strong.

She wasn't a dancer like Nesta was...somebody that could put a whole room on their knees. But she had always, alwaysenjoyed it. Granted there hadn't been a myriad of suitors willing to partner with her.

But there was now.

There was Azriel who spun her around like she weighed nothing and touched her like she was fragile like spun glass.

He held her like she was an exquisite, treasured thing, an utter and total contradiction to his strength, but so perfect at the same time. She just let herself move to the music with him, following his lead so much more easily than she had ever followed anyone's lead before until she was practically breathless.

There was Rhys, who somehow managed to twirl her around to make her skirt float through the air and make her feel like a princess.

And then...then there was Cassian.

Loud, raucous Cassian. Huge with arms the size of tree trunks. Nesta looked tiny next to him, and Nesta still had quite a few inches on Eira.

Still, she was handed off to him, while Nesta dragged Azriel onto the dance floor.

"I need to warn you, both my brothers are better dancers than me," he told her drily.

She couldn't help it, a small grin curled on her lips even as she let him pull her out onto the dance floor, and she gave a quiet laugh at his words.

"I doubt that," she commented light-heartedly, and Cassian chuckled.

"My sweet summer child," he just drawled in response. "Azriel's the best dancer of us all, and Rhys ain't half bad either."

It didn't take long for her to find out that it was all true. All of it.

Cassian was…not a terrible dancer, but he wasn't quite as smooth as Rhys or Azriel. No, it was apparent that he was used to dancing with someone like Nesta, who took the lead more often than not...but that didn't make him a bad dancer. Far from it in fact.

He just wasn't the best.

"I wanted to talk to you though," Cassian broached the subject after a moment. "I...I have spent weeks with coming up with the right thing to say, but...I think the worst thing I can do is not to say anything," he said with a grimace. "I am sorry."

Her eyebrows flickered up at that, surprised by his words. What...what did Cassian have to be sorry for?

"Why are you sorry?" Eira asked quietly after a brief moment.

"You mean other than the fact that we all spent 2 years treating you abhorrently?" Cassian asked her sarcastically.

"I-" She started, because...what was she supposed to say to that? It was the truth. "I-"

She swallowed again, and her gaze darted across the dance floor before it settled on him. "It's...It was a rough time," she finally admitted quietly.

"I know that you overheard...that conversation between Rhys and I...before we went to that ball in Hewn City," Cassian said quietly. "I shouldn't have...it was an unkind thing to say."

Eira swallowed.   

Oh. He was talking about that. She had been very hurt at the time, of course. No one would have wanted to hear something like that, least of all from people that they had considered to be friends at the time. That had been unkind.  

We don’t need Eira. Quite frankly, it’s better if she doesn’t go. Elain is the prettier one, anyway.

He had said that, and Eira flinched faintly at the memory, and in response, Cassian grimaced. His hands almost tightened their grip on her, in a move of comfort, and she could hear the guilt in his voice when he spoke, the very real remorse in his tone.

"I was out of line when I said that," he told her, his voice thick. "I just...I hate Hewn City. And if I could keep everybody out of there...I would. I didn't want you anywhere near there. This is not me...not me trying to make what I said...any better. Because there is nothing I can say that makes it better."

Cassian sighed as they continued to dance, and his eyes were downcast.

"I...I was cruel. For my own convenience, yes, but that does not change the fact that it was a cruel thing to say...and I am very, very sorry."

There was a small knot forming in her throat, and Eira had to swallow it back before she spoke.

She...she believed him, she knew that he meant what he said. It didn't erase what he had said, or the way she had felt at the time, but she did believe him. "I-" She started, her voice cracking faintly. "I accept your apology, Cassian."

She saw him exhale audibly in relief, and some of the tension bled out of his shoulders.

There was clearly guilt weighing on his shoulders, so she felt the need to continue. "It...it hurt, you know?" she said quietly. "Hearing...what you said. But then, eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves."

Her mouth curled into the hint of a bitter smile, and she heard Cassian chuckle lowly.

"No, they don't," he agreed, and his answering smile echoed bitterly before he sighed audibly.

"I...don't expect you to ever forget about it," he said quietly, “or forgive me, for that matter. But...I just wanted to apologize. To try to make it right."

The knot in her throat was still there, but Eira forced a small smile onto her face. "You are a good male," she replied quietly.

"I...that's up for debate," Cassian said, clearly trying to make it a joke, but it just sounded flat instead.

She could see the guilt that was clearly weighing down his shoulders though, and the regret in his eyes.

"You are," she assured him.

"You make him happy, you know?" Cassian said quietly.

She knew he was talking about Azriel, and it made her cheeks heat again. Gods, the way she blushed whenever his brother was mentioned...it was bordering on ridiculous.

She didn't know what to say to that, to how to respond, and she could see the hint of a smirk form on Cassian's lips. "I've never seen him the way he is when he's with you,” he drawled.

"I..." Eira's eyes darted away, feeling a little self-conscious. "Azriel is...he's very dear to me," she admitted, her voice going quiet when she met his eye again.

Cassian's answering smile was small but entirely genuine, and he gave a faint nod.

"I can tell," he said quietly. “Do you know that that pelt he gave you means?” Cassian asked her and Eira could just stare at him. What?

The Pelt wasn’t around her shoulders right now. She had shrugged it off before the first dance and had instead been draped over the back of her chair back at the table.  Now though…now she wished the soft fur would be back to wrapping around her. 

“Every Illyrian Male gifts his bride a coat for her wedding. Made out of pelts he hunted,” Cassian said quietly. “A show of…their ability to provide in a way. A claim.”

She swallowed. Azriel had given her…he had given her the equivalent of a bridal gift? He hadn’t even hesitated to offer up the pelts when she had refused to let him pay her. 

And now…now she found out their significance…what they meant for him, for his culture…It was…startling. 

She wasn’t quite sure what to think of it.

The music came to an end, and their dance as well.

She watched Nesta make her way across the room to them. "Azriel is dancing with Feyre....Rhys is deep in conversation with Kallias," she said. "Can I steal my mate, or do you still need him?"

"Steal away," Eira said with a laugh. "I'll get myself something to drink."

"Are you sure?" her sister asked gently but Eira nodded.

"I am not alone," she said easily. Not when she could still feel the shadows twirling through her skirts.

Cassian gave her a final smile before he let go of her, taking the hand that Nesta offered him and letting himself be dragged back onto the dancefloor.

Eira exhaled quietly when she was left alone, and as promised, she made her way to the small table where drinks were being served. The shadows followed her there, swirling around her skirts and occasionally touching her skin, caressing her.

She also got a good view of the orchestra, her eyes immediately drawn to the harpist.

She was good. Real good. Eira stood there for a few minutes sipping her drink as the harpist played, watching her as her fingers danced across the strings of the harp. It made her want to pick up her own more often, as her practising was finally resulting in songs that actually sounded like songs and no more screeching that only Nyx seemed to enjoy.

"Do you play?" A question came from her right and her head snapped towards a tall male. Utterly pale, his hair white, his eyes ice blue, but a warm smile on his face.

She gave a small nod in response. "Yes, I...I do," she agreed and forced a small smile onto her face. The stranger was wearing a coat of grey, trimmed with fur...Winter Court maybe? Eira wasn't quite sure.

"I couldn't help but notice that you were watching the harpist," the male continued. His eyes and voice were soft, a sharp contrast to his hard, cold exterior. "You play the harp, don't you?"

He had a nice voice, she realized, warm and smooth.

"I-" Eira started faintly, surprised that he'd noticed that, and that he guessed correctly. Her eyes flickered to the harpist for a moment, before they went back to the male. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "I do play."

A smile curled on his lips as that, his expression almost gentle when he spoke. "You must have wonderful skill then," he said, almost like he was complimenting her...and Eira just blinked stupidly at him. "The harp is a beautiful instrument, but...also one of the hardest to master."

There was no sarcasm or mockery or anything like that in his voice, and it took her a moment to realize that he was actually complimenting her and that it was genuine.

"I...I wouldn't say I have mastered it, but..." she said quietly after a few moments. "I...I'm doing alright, I suppose."

The male chuckled quietly, and his eyes glimmered as he looked at her. "You are humble in addition to being talented," he said quietly, with the ghost of a smirk on his face.

Again, she was taken aback for a moment. Compliments were not...something she was used to receiving from strangers. "I am Kleon," he introduced himself finally. 

"Eira," she replied quietly in reflex, and the ghost of a smile stayed on his lips as she spoke.

"Eira," he repeated back quietly, and almost almost as if he was tasting her name in his mouth. "What a beautiful name."

Her eyebrows flickered faintly at his words, another compliment, and surprise flashed through her.

"That's...kind of you to say," she replied awkwardly.

"Will you do me the honour of a dance?"

The request came out of nowhere, completely unexpected, and she found herself blinking in shock yet again. He...he wanted to dance with her?

She found herself gaping for a few moments before she finally forced a small, but awkward smile on her face. "I-"

"Please," he practically purred, and she found herself unable to say no. "It wouldn't be a proper celebration without me stealing a dance with the most beautiful female in the room."

Her cheeks flushed darkly in response, completely overwhelmed by the compliment, and it only got worse when he chuckled quietly. "There is nothing to be shy about," he said, clearly amused by her reaction. "I'm just speaking the truth."

Surprise and disbelief shot through her for a moment, before a small, slightly disbelieving laugh escaped her. "I think you overestimate me," Eira said a bit breathlessly.

"I don't think I do," he replied easily, and a hint of a smile curled on his lips again. "You're beautiful, that's a fact. As is my intention to steal a dance with you, if you would be agreeable to it."

The shadows stayed quiet, silent…as long as they didn’t want her in any danger, Eira supposed that refusing this…Kleon would probably be considered impolite. Her mother would have had her head for it after all. 

She was attending a ball, so she was required to dance with every man who paid her just the littlest bit of attention in the hope that maybe one of them had any marriageable brothers, sons or nephews…or maybe he himself made out to be a good match. 

(Which for her mother mostly had only meant money and power. In every imaginable way.)

“One dance,” Eira agreed quietly. 

Something flashed through his eyes, something satisfied. "One dance," Kleon repeated, and extended his hand to her, an invitation to take it.

One dance. 

He was a good dancer. She would give him that compliment, peppering her with questions about the music, her likes and dislikes.

Kleon was charming and had manners, and didn't do a thing to make her uncomfortable, and there was a smoothness to him that could have been utterly thralling ...if it were not for the fact that he wasn't Azriel.

But that was the thing. The conversation, the questions, the compliments...none of it could truly lure her in, because there was only one male in that room that could ever lure her in, and that was Azriel.

There was only one male that she was truly interested in. 

The song ended and she forced a smile onto her face as they came to a stop, her hand still in his. "Thank you for the dance," she said quietly, politely.

"Thank you for indulging me," he replied smoothly, and there was that hint of a smile on his lips again.

He released her hand, but his fingers lingered a few moments as if he was reluctant to release it. "I've enjoyed myself," he added quietly.

"I...I'm glad," she replied faintly, and she actually was glad. She had enjoyed herself. The conversation had been pleasant, and he had been a good dance partner.

There was just no spark. No fire in her veins. No pull to him.

Not like it felt with her mate.

A ghost of a smile curled on her lips at the thought. No, nothing like that. That was all reserved for Azriel. For...her mate. Her mate, and no one else.

"Making nice with the Winter Court?" Asked Rhys drily behind her.

She had to suppress the urge to startle at the sound of Rhysand's voice suddenly behind her, but she did jump a little. Eira turned around to look at him, and a small, sheepish laugh escaped her as she did. "He asked to dance with me," she explained quietly. "So I said yes."

"And that's the only reason you said yes?" Rhys inquired, in that infuriating neutral kind of tone he tended to use.

She just stared at him. 

 "I didn't want to be impolite," she confirmed. "It would have been rude to refuse," Eira said, her voice certain, and even just saying the words out loud...made her feel surprisingly defiant.

She could practically see that Rhys had been surprised by her confidence, but there was no sarcasm or mockery in his express

"How very polite of you," he said quietly, and she swore he almost sounded amused.

She felt more than heard Azriel behind her, reaching a hand back only to feel his own in hers seconds later. The pelt was draped over her shoulder, with a gentle touch, utterly polite, but she could feel his fingertips trail over her arms, a shiver escaping her.

Even the briefest touch from him sent a shiver down her spine, and a warm feeling rushing through her body. She could practically sense the shadows curling around her skirts again, trying to get closer.

"Having fun?" Azriel murmured into her ear, his voice low. There was a hint of something to it, the edge of possessiveness, and his hand gave hers a small, almost imperceptible squeeze.

"I like dancing with you more," she answered honestly.

Azriel's lips curled up in a small smile at her words, and his hand gave hers another small squeeze.

"Then let us dance," he said quietly, as his free hand went to her waist to gently guide her back towards the dance floor. The shadows trailing after them and swirling around their feet, clinging on to both of them.

Their hands were still intertwined when they came to a stop, and she placed her hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her hand.

She couldn't help the content sigh that escaped her when he pulled her closer, so she was pulled flush against him. It was more swaying in one spot than proper dancing...but they were at the edges, not bothering anybody.

There was a content look on Azriel's face as they swayed in one place like he was just happy being able to hold her close. 

Shadows were swirling around them, curling around her skirts and his legs, as if they were trying to get closer to them both. It almost made Eira laugh faintly.

"Your shadows are clingy," she teased, in a quiet voice.

"They are," Azriel agreed, and his voice was just as quiet. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, and his free hand tightened around her waist as he added, "They like being close to you."

"Oh, they like being close to me, hm?" Eira said faintly, still mostly teasing. A small, amused smile on her lips as shadows coiled more around her and tried to get between them as if to prove Azriel's point."Are you sure they're not just being clingy because you like being close to me?"

It was a brazen thing to do, and she didn’t dare to look at him as she said it, as she felt the sharp inhale…but then he tipped up her face with a single finger so that she was forced to look at her. 

His eyes were green and brown and gold, and he looked at her with an expression… an expression that she couldn’t quite place. Sweet and soft and warm and it made her feel…safe. 

“They are a part of me,” Azriel said simply, like that explained everything. 

And she supposed, in a way it did. 

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Entangled. // Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader x Alys Rivers

MDNI ; reader discretion is advised.

Summary: after so much loss, you had been betrothed and later married off to aemond as a means to put an end to the war, he takes you to harrenhal where you meet his mistress, Alys rivers. What can possibly unfold?

WARNINGS: dubcon (I'm not sure but I'm adding it just to be safe), unprotected sex, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, tiddy sucking, m/f/f, cunnilingus, threesome, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, polygamy(?), witch stuff, aemond x alys, alys x reader, aemond x reader, canon typical incest, war, loss, slight angst, slight fluff, contains spoilers for fire and blood, canon divergence, reader doesn't have a description. + not proofread.

A/N: here's a fic as promised before I leave for 2 weeks due to mid terms! hope you all enjoy it! // divider credit: @cafekitsune

WC: 2.8k

The war was devastating to you and your siblings, having lost both luke and jace, you were terrified for your life as well as your younger sibling's.

You watched as your family fell apart, slowly but surely, all of them ended up dying, leaving you and your younger siblings alone and estranged. The moment you heard your stepfather, daemon's, death; you knew that it was over, there was no more winning anymore.

Especially with Aemond surviving the fight.

Loss, Grief, and Sorrow were emotions you became familiar with.

You had to anyway.

Because with war, there would always be the plague of such pessimistic emotions that would follow, with every news it will only grow stronger.

Alas, the greens ended up winning the war.

And Alicent, as a way to make sure none of this repeats again, has quickly betrothed you to her second son, prince regent, Aemond, while your younger brother Aegon III was betrothed to Jaehaera.

It's not as if you and Aemond were on bad terms before the war, it would rather be described as more… tolerable. Aemond didn't hold any feelings towards you, neither negative nor positive.

Is what you had taught.

Until you found out that halfway through your wedding procession that it was Aemond who proposed the idea of marrying you to him, Alicent had only planned for Aegon and Jaehaera's betrothal.

You exchanged your vows half heartedly, and as soon as the wedding had ended, Aemond wasted no time and immediately whisked you away with him to Harrenhal, which he inherited and resides there to rule rather than at the keep.

You had not spoken a word to him ever since the departure. You did not want to.

Harrenhal looked and felt ominous, everything about it screamed danger, whether it was the rumours about the curses that surrounded this place, or just the overall aesthetics and appearance of it, it scared you.

You knew that it was destroyed and basically melted during Aegon's conquest, but it seemed Aemond had tried his very best to rebuild the place, yet the result was more horrific than it was ‘fixed’ you would've preferred if it had been just left untouched.

Aemond, wanting to go all the way with the formalities, he gave you a tour of the castle, before stopping in front of his chamber, a private residence where only he is allowed, “This is our chamber.” He said.

Ah yes, it also belongs to you now, doesn't it? You are his wife after all. You nodded, not wishing to speak to him, the guard opened the door.

As you both entered inside, there was already a woman who seemed to be waiting, as if she knew you both would be coming. “Aemond, you have returned.” She stood up from her seat, putting the book down, addressing him informally.

Not your grace, my prince or any formal title, just Aemond.

You took note of her appearance, hair as dark as the night sky, eyes that resembled emeralds, donning a valyrian steel necklace.

Alys rivers.

Aemond's mistress.

“Alys, I have not permitted you to enter my chambers.” Aemond speaks calmly, not realising the awkward situation that has occured with you in the room. “Oh come on Aemond, do not be so cold, Is she your wife?” She turned the conversation to you and you wished the ground would swallow you whole because of the tension in the air.

“Yes, she is.” Aemond confirms and she hums, “And you must be his mistress.” You speak, breaking the silence you maintained all throughout, acknowledging her presence, catching her by surprise. “Oh? You're know of me?” she asks and you nod, “How can i not? When there's words of your presence infiltrating every corner of the world, after all, Who could the prince have taken as a mistress after his betrothal to Floris broke?” You question, eyebrows raised, you see Aemond visibly tense, likely feeling the tension now.

“What have you heard of me, Princess?” Alys asks, tilting her head to the side, “That you are very beautiful, eyes that shone brightly like the stars amidst the night sky; that is your hair.” You tell her truthfully making her lips break into a smirk, “And what else?” She doesn't break eye contact, it's your turn to smirk now, “That you must wield powers, which you had used to bewitch the prince.” You watch as her smirk turns into a smile, “What exactly are you implying princess?”

“That you are a witch.” You put implication on the word ‘witch’, Aemond coughs awkwardly and her chuckle breaks the silence and you giggle as well, “And what do you think of it?”

Why was she so curious to know of your opinion?

“Mhm, I cannot speak for everyone, but I do not believe it, I can say that for sure.” You tell her your opinion, “And why is that so?” she asks, “Because- it's just my opinion.” you shrug and she smiles.

“Alys, you can leave now.” Aemond interferes, kicking her out and you give her a smile which she returns as she leaves the chambers. “I apologise.” Aemond expresses his apology. You simply ignore him, not wishing to speak to him.

He sighs in annoyance, “For fucks sake why can't you just talk to me? You were speaking a lot to Alys when she was here.” He breaks his formality and that's when you turn to him, “There you are uncle, I was getting bored with the formality you have shown me, pretending as though nothing happened, that your family did not just kill my family.” You say in anger.

“It's over now.” He says and you scoff, “Over?! What do you mean over?! What about the grief that I carry? The loss of my brothers, my mother, my father??! It's destroying me from the inside out!” You shout and Aemond stands still, looking down as if in regret.

“You are not the only one that has experienced grief.” He murmurs and before you can say anything, he lifts his head up and looks at you in the eyes and you immediately stop yourself from speaking.

That's right.

You aren't the only one that has experienced grief, you suddenly remember helaena and jaehaerys. You bite your lip in thought.

“I'm aware that you have experienced more loss than me, more grief than me, some directly caused by me, but that doesn't mean I'm not a victim of it either.” He sighs, “Either way, there is no use of dwelling over the past, we need to put our differences aside and make this work, you saw what happened. War will only make it worse.”

You hated that he was right.

You watch as he comes closer and you don't move away, he wraps his arms around you, embracing you, it feels so comforting, when was the last time you were held like this? You hug him back, burying your face into him, breathing his scent.

“I, I know this will not solve anything that has happened, or bring your brother back to life, but I apologize, I hope we can put our past behind us.” You hear him speak as you zone out in the comfort of his arms, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Ever since then, you and Aemond had grown closer a bit, trying your best to make everything work, he had bedded you during the days that followed, consummating your marriage. But he still laid with Alys.

You did not mind, because though you had gotten closer, you didn't always want to be around him and Alys helped you greatly with that, keeping him away from you.

You were sitting in the library of Harrenhal, reading on the chaise until you heard the door open and watched as Alys entered the room. “Greetings Princess.” She bows slightly and you raise your eyebrow, “You can drop the formalities Alys, you referring to me formally while being informal with my husband will make it seem like I'm that one mean wife who has forced herself between two star crossed lovers.” You close the book you were reading and she chuckles, “As you wish, Y/N.” she refers to you by your name and you smile. “What is that you require from me?” You ask and she shrugs, “I simply wanted to see you, see how you are doing.” She says and you nod, “Hmm.” you hum.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are delectable?” She suddenly says and you look at her, “I've gotten compliments, yes, but not to that extent.” you tell her honestly and she hums. “Well, you are extremely pretty. Almost makes me want to-” She interrupts herself with a cough and you raise an eyebrow, “Make you want to?” You question, and she looks at you, “Have you for myself.” She says directly to your face, catching you off guard. “Oh?” You smirk, “You wish to steal me from the prince? He might see it as an offence.” you tease and she chuckles, “Maybe.” She smirks and suddenly it feels as if the entire power dynamic has changed. You clear your throat in an attempt to deviate from this conversation and try to start another one.

Encounters like that had become more frequent with Alys, she was being flirty indirectly, she had even done it in front of Aemond to which he didn't bat an eye to.

You had tried your best to remain composed, only to find yourself in a situation you didn't quite expect.

Your legs were held spread open by Alys as she laid behind you, your back against her chest, you could feel the softness of her breasts against your back as she kissed your neck.

You gaze falls on Aemond who was currently undressing, he was taking off his breech which revealed his hard cock, to which he gave a few pumps to ease the tension, “Come on Aemond, don't take way too much time.” Alys coos and Aemond obeys, lining his cock to your cunt, sliding it down your fold, gathering the wetness on his cock and later placing his tip against your entrance.

He then slowly pushes inside, causing you to gasp and grip the sheets below, Alys’ hands travel up to your torso and she grabs your breasts, playing with the nipple as she continues placing kisses on your neck.

Aemond fully sheaths himself inside you, grunting when he feels you clench around him, “Fuck, I love this cunt so much.” He groans before drawing his hips back and pushing forward, thrusting. “I know right? Been wanting to taste it for a while, let me at it when you're done.” Alys replies to him, she turns your face sideways and presses her lips against yours, kissing you.

Aemond's tip prods at the sweet spot located inside of you, causing you let out a loud moan into Alys’ mouth to which she chuckles, one of her hands leave your breasts and go to your cunt, she rubs small circles on your clit, elevating the pleasure you're feeling, and before you know it, your orgasm hits you as you come all over his cock, clenching him, causing him to moan and eventually finish inside you. He pulls out slowly, his cock beginning to soften.

Alys is swift in her movements, moving from behind you to facing you from the front, she pushes you further up the bed before lowering herself down to the level where she is face to face with your cunt, she hums in delight as she watches Aemond's spend ooze out from you.

Her tongue collects some of it before she licks a long stripe up to your clit, before engulfing it completely with her moan, which causes you to throw your head back in place. Your hand flies to her head to grip it, your fingers locked in her tresses. You whimper as she pulls on your clit with her mouth, nibbling it. She travels a little down towards your hole and pushes her tongue inside, fucking you with it, her nose rubbing against your clit.

You watch as as Aemond begins to harden again, he positions himself behind Alys, grabbing her by her hips and lifting her lower body up, You feel Alys moan against your cunt as she feels him enter her, her body rocks back and forth as he thrusts into her, she uses your thighs as a leverage to keep her steady, annoyed by the fact that he's using so much force to the point her face keeps leaving your cunt, her tongue swirls around your clit which causes the band in your stomach to snap, you gasp out her name and she moans into your cunt as she reaches her orgasm, teeth clamping down onto your clit but not too harshly yet enough to cause slight sting. Aemond pulls out before he can finish inside her, finishing on her back.

Why did he not finish inside her?

The thought flies over your head as they swiftly change positions again.

Another round? You're already too overstimulated from the previous pleasure.

Aemond lays down and pulls you on top of him, you lay your hands flat against his chest and balance yourself, he lifts your hips up and lines his cock against your entrance again before sinking you down on it, letting out a groan. “Seven hells, I just can't get used to this cunt no matter how many times I take it.” He grunts, “Sit on my face, Alys.” He looks at her and she smiles, immediately obeying, she faces you and you watch as her cunt hovers right above his mouth before she descends to it, his tongue immediately capturing her sex.

You slowly start moving your hips, causing Aemond to groan against her cunt, one of his hands remains firmly on your hip as the other travels to Alys's thigh, gripping it for leverage.

‘This is what heaven probably feels like’ Aemond thinks.

You bounce up and down his cock, Alys leans towards you to capture your lips into a kiss and you let her, your hands roam all over her body before reaching her breasts, you give a slight squeeze to them, making her breath hitch. She kisses downwards your neck, to your breast before taking your nipple in her mouth.

She suckles on your tit while maintaining eye contact with you, and you can already feel the third orgasm of night beginning to build up. She moans with your breast in her mouth causing pleasant vibrations to shoot up your skin, it seems as if she had reached her peak.

She quickly get off of Aemond's face and he sits up, fully focusing his attention onto you now, pressing a kiss to your lips, you can feel the taste of Alys’ essence on his tongue as he shoves in your mouth, deepening the kiss, he ruts into you at a speedy pace and pulls away from the kiss, to watch your tits bounce up and down as he thrusts upwards.

His mouth descends onto one of them, tongue playing with the bud, flicking it up and down, “I can't wait to see these swell with milk when my seed takes, I bet you'd taste so fucking good.” He growls, biting your nipple making you wince.

And it isn't long before you reach your third orgasm of the night, moaning his name loudly as you finish on his cock, and he once again finishes inside your cunt, filling you up with his seed, painting your walls.

You fall slumped onto his shoulder, exhausted from all the intimate acts you have committed with Aemond and his lover, and practically your lover too now.

He pulls you off him and lays you down next to him gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead, you watch as Alys lays on your stomach, and she turns to press a kiss to your lower abdomen, right where your womb was located and whispers some words which you couldn't make sense of.

She then climbs up further and lays beside you, hugging you close to her chest and Aemond pulls you both into an embrace.

“She'll soon give birth to children that will look like the three of us.” Alys says to Aemond and he hums, “How?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows and she chuckles, “Maybe that being a witch rumour wasn't false after all.” She says and you gasp, “Though, I never really bewitched the prince, I never had to.” She chuckles and leans over to kiss Aemond before falling back to place.

You thought Alys was just bluffing and joking at that time, until you gave birth to twins months later.

Who ended up having features of all three of you, your son, having one emerald green eye and one purple eye with your hair colour, and your daughter with platinum blonde hair with your eye colour and facial features of alys.

You wondered how she'd done it.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[ktownshizzle]

Wild & Free (Teaser)

Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Everybody says they want to marry Min Yoongi. But what if he only wants to say 'yes' to you.

Alternatively: While on the last leg of their PTD tour, Yoongi discovers there was such a thing as drive-thru weddings in Vegas, something that his pretty little brain can't seem to process having lived the last decade of every second of his life being planned by his management team, which includes you. When he goes down a rabbit hole of Youtube videos about The Little White Chapel (Omo! Michael Jordan got married there!), he starts getting all sorts of ideas - all of it starring him and you.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Childhood friends to lovers, Idol!au, Coworkers to lovers (reader is a HYBE employee)

Notes: What can I say? We got all the tropes in this bad boy, because I don’t know when I can write again, so let’s put everything in this sucker and call it a day! This is canon-ish. I included some real-life events during this period, but it may or may not be loosely rearranged to fit the narrative - just go with it. Ginger Yoongi, because this is the LOOK I don’t give a damn what haters say. I have not written in a decade and this is me attempting to pick things back up, I hope you like it xo

BTW, the teaser scene is inspired by that leaked video of the BTS tour crew’s  private party in Vegas. It’s here if you want to see it. Enjoy! xo

Read the teaser under the cut!

!!!! Edit: Read Part 1 here !!!!

P.S. Leave a comment to be part of the taglist 🙂

***

"Yoongi, marry me!" You shout at the top of your lungs, earning laughs from the people around you. On the other side of the room, a couple of other people shout the same catchphrase, including Taehyung, who seems to get the most kick out of it out of all the members.

Coerced to do one of those Tik Tok dance challenges, Yoongi stands in front of the room, hides his face behind his hands and you watch in delight as he awkwardly sways his hips side to side. More cheers erupt and two seconds after he decides he was done.

"Hajimaaaa!" Your friend says to no one and everyone, cheeks burning as he stalks back to the chair he was occupying across yours.

You push his beer bottle towards him, "Good job, gramps."

"Fuck off," he says with no real bite, taking a long swig off his drink to cool off his reddened cheeks.

It's great to finally get some down time with the crew. After such a fast-paced, high production tour, everybody needed to blow off some steam. This Korean BBQ restaurant off the Strip was the perfect venue to get the team together for samgyupsal and drinks. The vibes were, as the kids say, immaculate.

You are already sufficiently buzzed so you sit down as Seokjin takes his turn to do the challenge. He really seems to be more into it than the man currently giving you a look.

"I heard you." He narrows his eyes at you, a small smile playing on his lips.

"What? It's the new viral catchphrase," you shrugged. "Everybody and their grandma is saying it these days."

"Not their grandma."

"You should be flattered."

Stop, you thought he would say. But his response catches you off guard.

"Only ‘cause you said it."

And he has the audacity to lick his bottom lip, a ghost of a smirk forming.

Fuck. Your throat dries up. When did it get so hot here?

“And in case you were wondering…” he leans forward, a dopey-ass grin now on his face. “The answer is yes.”

***

WHAT DO WE THINK? Join the taglist by leaving a comment so I can let you know when this story drops.

Tag: @jajabro @yooglefics

[louloulemons-posts]

Saw that alphabet headcanons are starting to become popular and I was wondering if you could do both versions of the alphabet too ( SFW and nsfw alphabet head canons) for Logan?

SFW Alphabet

Wolverine x Reader

authors note : this is such a cute idea! i love reading these so much - i probably won’t do a NSFW one because i don’t write much content like that 🫶🏻

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A = Affection

(how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

heres the thing, in public he’s barely affectionate at all, it’d be a hand on your waist or rubbing his fingers on your shoulder. in private he’s the opposite, he is all over you like a leech, cuddles, kisses. at one point you had to stop him holding your hand when you went to pee.

B = Best Friend

(what would they be like as a best friend? how did the friendship start?)

just like he is with everyone, logan is quite standoffish with you when you first meet. you met through charles at the mansion, but after a week or so, and many smiled, logan warmed to you. you became really close really quick, talking about anything and everything.

C = Cuddles

(do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

logan is an cuddle bug, he loves a hug. as soon as you get, or him, get back from a mission he’d be on you. wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, your own legs wrapped around his waist.

D = Domestic

(do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

as soon as you and logan get together, he knows he wants to be with you for the rest of your lives. he wants a simple life, no more fighting, a little home away from everything. he’d be better at cleaning than cooking, you’d cook and he’d wash up and dry.

E = Ending

(if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

logan would never want this, it would be worse comes to worse. you were in danger. he’d hate it, say it was to protect you, which would break your hate, and in turn you’d hate him in a way. but he’d always come back - logan always did.

F = Fiance(e)

(how would they feel about commitment? how quickly do they want to get married?)

he’d probably wait a year or two, promising to love you forever. you’d have a small private wedding a few months later, with your closest friends and wade would fight to be bestman.

G = Gentle

(how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

he’d learn to be more gentle with you, forever gentle with you, never wanting to cause any harm. soft touches and words are key for logan.

H = Hugs

(do they like hugs? how often? what are their hugs like?)

as said above, big bear hugs, holding you close. it’d be secure, you’d feel so safe when he hugs you. rests his head on top of yours and presses his lips on your hair constantly.

I = I love you

(how fast do they say the L-word?)

either a couple months into the relationship, or as he’s first asking you out - no in between.

J = Jealousy

(how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

ha. so yeah he is kinda jealous, he’s just scared you’ll find someone better than him (logan that’s not possible btw babe), he’d become more touchy or death glare anyone who looked in your direction - definitely would end up in you comforting, kissing all over his face and telling him how much you love him.

K = Kisses

(what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they liked to be kissed?)

kisses with logan are always full of love and passion, his favourite place to kiss you is your lips of course, but does place his head in your neck and kiss your pulse point on a regular. he’s a sucker for forehead kisses for sureeee.

L = Little ones

(how are they around children?)

he’s scared of them.

when he meets laura that doesn’t really change, but my god he’s a good dad and you take her in as your daughter - he absolutely adores the both of you and seeing you together melts his heart - but not when you join forces and gang up on him.

M = Morning

(how are mornings spent with them?)

slow and soft. waking up slowly with kisses all over your face, shoulders and back. gentle whisperers to bring you from your slumber and hushed voices when you wake up.

N = Night

(how are nights spent with them?)

soft giggles, hushing you to sleep, but obnoxiously loud laughter if you’re quiet for too long. your head rested on logan’s chest, feeling it shakes as he tries to hold in a giggle. but soon wrapped around one another, fast asleep.

O = Open

(when would they start revealing personal things? do they say it all or tell you slowly?)

logan doesn’t know why but he feels so comfortable about you, he speaks about his childhood, his brother, the wars, the adamantium … everything. he tells you everything, you hold his closely and quietly as he does so, running your fingers through his hair, just letting him talk.

P = Patience

(how easily angered are they?)

… this is logan we’re talking about. he doesn’t get angry at you, annoyed yes, if you hurt yourself doing something silly. his claws slip out with ease when he sees someone making you upset or uncomfortable, not even thinking before acting.

Q = Quizzes

(how much do they remember about you? do they remember every detail or forget everything?)

he would not forget a single thing about you, even silly small things. you stopped believing in the tooth fairy at 7? he knows it. your favourite smell is vanilla? logan’s got a vanilla candle. you love green? guess what? he’s got you a green blanket.

R = Remember

(what’s their favourite moment in your relationship?)

your first kiss for sure, he could never forget it, he was being broody and rambling about issues you may face in the future. you just grabbed him by his worn flannel and kissed him straight on the mouth - he instantly shut up.

S = Security

(how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they want to be protected?)

so fucking protective, he’d protect you with his life. you walk on the inside of the path away from the cars. an overly bark-y dog approaches, you’re behind him. you feel uncomfortable, claws are drawn.

logan needs mental protection more than anything, whatever he tells you in confidence, stays with you, it stays quiet, never used as an insult, it’s precious and makes him him.

T = Try

(how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

as said above he never forgets a thing about you, so if you ever make a passing comment, he will remember it. gifts are forever heartfelt and unique. anniversaries are quiet and just for you, same with dates, never one the same. and every day tasks, logan will sit you down and do everything if you asked.

U = Ugly

(what are some of their bad habits?)

takes an ungodly amount of time doing his hair. that’s it.

V = Vanity

(how concerned are they about their looks?)

okay okay, his outfits are always great. he looks good all the fucking time, but he’d look great in a bin bag. i think he throws on whatever … but as i said before … hair.

W = Whole

(would they feel incomplete without you?)

oh 100% a second without you is too much. he wouldn’t know what to do with himself, he’d feel lopsided if he was on a solo mission.

X = Xtra

(a random head cannon)

scared of frogs. you’ve chased him around the mansion with one.

Y = Yuck

(what are some things they don’t like, in a partner, or just in general?)

someone who doesn’t listen, like at all, just someone who is totally self obsessed. he couldn’t deal with that.

Z = Zzz

(what’s a sleeping habit of theirs?)

BLANKET HOG

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

this was so much fun to do, thank you for the request i loveeddd it.

leave any requests, they’re slowly coming i promise 🫶🏻

[targaryen-dynasty]

YOU’RE THE ONLY THING THAT I PRAY FOR. (3/3)

Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/Targcest (uncle & niece), p in v, slight degrading kink, slight breeding kink, this is plot with a whole lot of smut at the end, Valyrian wedding, mentions blood

WORDS: 4.6 K

NOTES: So, this Valyrian wedding is somewhat different to the one in Precious Delights. I took the Daemyra wedding for inspiration, and kinda blamed it on Grandmaster Benifer not being that educated on Valyrian customs (Maegor was just keen on marrying his niece and didn't care of the formalities).

Pentos' desperate need for an alliance against the Triarchy has really played into your hands when Daemon and you first arrived in the Free City. Two full-grown dragons descending not too far away from the city's borders didn’t go unnoticed, meaning it wasn’t long after that you’ve been summoned to the flamboyant castle of Reggio Haratis, the Prince of Pentos. 

Never before have you had the chance to marvel at Pentoshi architecture – or Essosi architecture in general – and were completely in awe as the gates of the castle opened to invite you inside. 

Even now, roughly a sennight after your relocation from the prince’s castle to an equally impressive manse, it’s still as mesmerizing as before; not as monotonous and undemanding as the architecture and tapestries harbored in the Red Keep. 

Reggio Haratis is generous enough to host you and your uncle, and has very recently offered to give you permanent residence in Pentos and gift you the manse you have occupied for no less than seven days. It’s a generous deal in exchange for the intimidating presences of your dragons, considering that with the manse also comes its farms, lands, vineyards, and wood. 

And of course your uncle hasn’t hesitated any moment to accept it – not if it keeps you away from Westeros.

You know Daemon has his own way of keeping tabs and staying informed of your family’s going-ons. He’s well aware of everything that’s happening in the Red Keep since there are several people lingering in it whose favor he has earned long ago that now are working as his spies and informants. 

They are procuring enough information to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, since Daemon is attentive enough to let you in on many of the things that happen in King’s Landing. And hence you know that the court is in a state of uproar, and your father balances between anger and despair, though you’re not aware that he has made it his personal mission to bring you back to the Red Keep sooner or later. 

Unbeknownst to you, this is one of the reasons Daemon all but presses to wed you, because it will not only solidify your relationship in an official way, but it also will make it easier for him to keep you safe should the king’s mission succeed. 

You’re standing on a tuckaway terrace of the manse, overlooking the gardens and extensive fields that frame and surround it. 

Reggio has been generous enough for you to carry out the ceremony in private with not many witnesses, other than the officiant, the Prince of Pentos himself, and the two servants that always tend to your and your uncle’s needs, present.

Ancient robes hug your bodies, and a matching headpiece rests on your head. They are pale white with reddish edges similar to the blood that trickles idly out of the cut on Daemon’s bottom lip. The shard of Dragonglass is still clutched between your fingers, while your other hand holds his chin. 

A gentle smile adorns your face, and though you want to watch the blood trickle out of the cut you have just caused, you can’t seem to tear your eyes off of his. The light of the evening sun is caught in the lilac of his eyes, reflecting and making them appear even lighter. 

As you hand him the shard, you briefly glance down to where your hands meet, before your gaze is fixed with his again, and as the sharp edge pierces your lip, you’re far too lost in the comfort of his presence to wince. 

This is all you’ve ever wanted.

Some of the blood amassing at the cut is gathered by the pad of his thumb, the touch so intimate it sends a shiver down your spine and heat to your cheeks. It is used by him to draw the Valyrian glyph for blood on your forehead, and you draw the supplementary glyph for fire on his. 

Knowing the scars that scatter all over his torso, scarring his pale skin, you’re not surprised to watch him cut the palm of his hand without any sign of discomfort or pain. He has endured far worse, and this is just too easy for him. 

However, the same can’t be said about you. 

You surely have hurt yourself plenty of times before, but it has never been on purpose, and never with something as sharp as the shard of dragonglass is. But that is the last significant step that has to be made to strenghten your one bloodline, to seal your union and signify that you are bound to each other. 

Daemon must sense the slight apprehension that spreads through your veins, and tries to comfort you and calm the raging storm of your fears by gently taking your hand in his, before the coldness of the fragment nestles into your open palm. “Issa sȳz,” he hums calmly, bowing his head once in a reassuring manner. It’s alright. 

Nodding meekly, you exhale a deep breath in the exact moment the dragonglass pierces your skin. The pain is delayed, and for a brief moment all that clouds your mind is the rush of your warm blood, and the sight of it so quickly filling the hollow of your palm. 

“Hen lantoti ānogar,” the priest cites, “va sȳndroti vāedroma.” Blood of two, joined as one. 

You tilt your head back up as Daemon unites your hands in a firm grip, and do not dare to look at where your hands meet. 

The sensation of your blood trickling out of the cut has already been very adamant, but with Daemon’s blood combined, several droplets all but seep out from your joined hands, gathered in a goblet your soon-to-be-husband holds underneath. 

A ribbon in a style similar to the robes you wear is tied around your hands, binding you to one another. 

“Mēro perzot gīhoti, elēdroma iārza sīr. Izulī ampā perzī, prūmī lanti sēteksi,” is said in the background, but you’re far too distracted by Daemon bringing the goblet full of your blood up. Ghostly flame, and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires. 

He holds it out to you, allowing you to be the first to drink, and you comply. 

Capturing the goblet between your fingers, you raise it to your lips, not hesitating one moment to take a generous sip. Daemon follows suit, and though the goblet is lowered by him, you two do not move otherwise.

“Hen jenȳ māzīlarion, qēlossa ozūndesi.” A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness. 

There is a thick tension between the two of you, and you gaze longingly into each other’s eyes. Only slowly there crawls a grin on your husband’s lips, matching the impish one that’s draped across yours.

You brush some strands of his silver hair behind his ear, before your hand comes to rest on his cheek, the pad of your thumb caressing it gently. 

Daemon’s gaze flickers between yours and your nicked lip, and he only slowly dips his head towards yours just in time with his free arm snaking around your waist. 

Despite the seriousness of the moment, there is a slight tint of amusement in the officiant’s tone as he voices the last part of the vow, clearly just as ecstatic about you being newly wed as you two are. “Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo, rȳk kīvia mazvestraksi.” The vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.

It is then that Daemon’s lips finally claim yours, and the taste of copper spreads on your tongue as his swirls around yours. The kiss is shy of being gentle, yet it doesn’t lack any passion or care. You have kissed plenty of times before ever since your arrival in Pentos, but none of them has ever felt as significant as this kiss does. 

To state it in the words of the Faith, you’re one heart, one flesh, and one soul now. Each other’s from this day, until the end of your days. And you finally feel whole with that prospect, the large chasm that has clasped inside of you filled by Daemon’s undeniable love. 

Reggio Haratis has spared no expenses when it comes to the celebration of your newfound unison. There are a handful of other people present, mostly some friends and acquaintances you both have made during your brief stay at the prince’s castle. 

In Westeros, you would have celebrated your marriage with a large feast in the Throne Room with no less than three hundred people present, following the strict rules and customs the Faith of the Seven prescribes. 

But in Essos, it seems to be a bit different. 

The large dining room is lavishly and opulently adorned by tapestries and ornaments, a goldish hue pervading the entire room with the sun that’s shining through the large apertures and tied-back curtains. 

It truly is a wedding for your caliber, though there’s no royal family accompanying you two. 

Everyone gathers around the large dining table that stands in the center of the room. They are all dressed in a similar fashion to you and your husband now, having changed into more elegant clothes not long after the ceremony, but the expensive textures and patterns of yours give away that this evening solely revolves around you two. 

The dinner and customs are far less formal than the ones back home, and with none of your guests being ill-mannered or impolite, a relaxed and open atmosphere characterizes the evening. 

There’s chatter and laughter everywhere while the food is served, quite a few bottles of wine emptied already, and not one thought of a possible bedding ceremony crosses your mind – because there’s no reason for it. 

Daemon and you have been on top of each other quite regularly, the Pentoshi way of living probably one of main reasons with your insatiable hunger for each other being the other. 

And thus, you’re not afraid of the thought of bedding Daemon once supper is over for your body has had quite a few days to get thoroughly adjusted to his sheer size. 

Only as the Prince of Pentos raises his glass does your breath hitch in your throat for a moment, not knowing what to expect from him. 

The room falls silent almost immediately, and if not everyone has gathered what’s about to happen, they certainly do the moment Reggio rises to his feet. 

“Let us toast to this exceptional match,” he starts with much eloquence, his choice of words bringing a warmth to your cheeks. 

Daemon smiles at you, and clasps a hand around your thigh. As you lean closer to him to hide your blush, he chuckles and rests his forehead against the side of your face. 

“Behave,” he chastises in a teasing manner, squeezing your thigh once. “Or do I have to teach you manners first?” 

Daemon’s words do little to help with the blush on your face, the warmth spreading from your cheeks right down to the apex of your legs, causing you to shift and squirm slightly to soothe the aching. 

Your host isn’t oblivious to what’s going on right in front of him, and merely chuckles, “I’ll try to keep this short.”

You take in a deep breath, and Daemon nods, a silent invitation for him to keep going. 

The prince speaks of your bravery to leave your House behind, of your undeniable love for each other, and how the Old Gods must have brought you together. He boasts of the strong bond you and your husband have, and how that alone is a testament to the Gods themselves. 

Everyone around you applauds as the speech ends, and Daemon raises his cup to toast with your host. “Hear, hear.” Bringing your own cup to your lips, you empty what feels like your fifth cup of the Lyseni sweet red they have procured only for you. 

You grab Daemon’s hand when the applause drowns out again, and squeeze it gently. Gazing at him lovingly, he leans in to press his lips to your temple. 

“Ivestragī īlva jikagon naejot ēdrugon, kessa īlon?” he mutters against your skin, and you sheepishly bite your bottom lip, bowing your head. Let us retire to bed, shall we?

“Nyke pendagon kesā dōrī epagon,” you reply. I thought you would never ask. 

Squeezing your hand back, you follow suit as he stands up from his seat after he has announced your departure and thanked everyone for the lovely evening. A hand of his rests at the small of your back to lead you towards your shared chambers, the lacking guests finally allowing you to catch your breath. 

He snakes his arm around your waist on your way, and pulls you tightly against his side, his hand traveling a bit lower than what’s appropriate. 

“Daemon,” you scold him, placing your hand above his to put it back on your waist. 

As you look at him, you’re greeted by a wide grin adorning his face. “I am sure you can forgive me,” he teases, his hand finding its way to your arse again, groping it roughly enough to make you yelp. “I just can not resist you, not in the prospect of us finally being able to truly celebrate our marriage.”

You shove at his chest on your way into your chambers, chuckling softly, but to no avail as his grip only lets go of you in order to close the door. 

And suddenly, there’s a thick tension hugging the two of you. 

You briefly glance around the room, noticing the many, colorful flowers the servants have placed on your bed; all of which can only be found in Essos. Everywhere stand lit candles, their flames flickering and dancing in the soft, Pentoshi gust of breeze that sweeps past the lightweight curtains concealing the floor-to-ceiling apertures. 

It seems inviting to push the silk aside and step out on the balcony, yet your husband beats you to it and pulls you against his sturdy frame by grasping your wrist, taking control over your movements. 

A soft gasp slips past your lips as you find yourself pressed against his body, the heat and his scent emanating from him driving you insane with lust already. You look up at him with half lidded eyes, your desire for him plain.

Standing on tiptoes, you tilt your head up to press your lips to his jaw in a chaste kiss, and trail some more down the curve of his throat, causing a soft hum to rumble in your husband’s chest. The gold, embroidered vest he wears is slowly pushed off his shoulders while the feeling of your lips on his skin distract him, falling to the ground and pooling around his ankles. 

“Let us not waste anymore time,” you whisper, your fingers almost eagerly fumbling with the laces in the front of his trousers. 

With every passing moment, you spot his breathing growing heavier, his body burning hot with desire. You sigh softly, “let us indulge ourselves in each other as much as we want, even if it means we will not leave our chambers in the morrow.”

His eyes peer deeply into yours when you tilt your head back, the mesmerizing lilac hue completely eclipsed by black. 

He brings a hand to the back of your head, holding it steady as the other clasps around your thigh. Your flesh is squeezed harshly under his tight grip, but you can’t bring yourself to care for there suddenly are not more than a few inches separating your lips from his. 

But instead of kissing you, Daemon bows his head down enough to press sloppy kisses to your neck, licking the side of your throat. His hand slides up to cup your clothed cunt, and you have to hold onto his broad shoulders for dear life, not risking your shaky legs to be the reason you fall onto the ground.

“My darling wife,” he rasps, and hearing him voice it aloud for the first time sends a shiver down your spine. “I should have taken you to Pentos a long time ago.”

With that, he spins you around and pushes you towards the bed. Toppling forward, you catch yourself and tightly hold onto the wooden footboard of it, crouched forwards and basically presenting him your arse. 

Daemon hums, clearly pleased by the sight, and approaches you with careful steps. 

You try to catch a glimpse of him from over your shoulder, not meeting his lust-filled gaze for long enough since he is quick to press your head forward again. When his hands fist the neckline of your dress, goosebumps start to prickle on your skin, coaxed by the warmth and roughness of his fingers. 

“‘Twas a mistake to wait so long,” he says, but it’s clear he’s speaking to himself. 

Then, the laces in the back of your lavish gown tear with an agonizing ripping sound, but the thrill of it doesn't allow your heart to grief the now ruined gift of your host. 

The skimpy underclothes you wear follow the Myrish lace just as quick, exposing your whole body to him faster than you could have wished for. His fingers trail slowly along your spine, and he chuckles as he watches your body tremble beneath his featherlight touch with a jolt of pleasurable excitement. 

His thick digits inch lower and lower, but never touch where you need him most. It’s agonizing, and your patience runs thinner and thinner. Your breathing is just as heavy as his own, and the tension has you moaning softly. 

And then he suddenly drags two of his deft fingers through your soaked womanhood, the ambush eliciting a shuddered breath to fall from your lips. Yet you also welcome it and eagerly buck your hips to chase the friction they grant you, which prompts him to seize your hip with one hand, the tips of his fingers digging into your flesh to keep your body still.

The lack of freedom to move feeds your impatience, and your head bows forwards with a sigh. “I-I can hardly take this any longer, husband,” you breathe, trying to make your frustration not too obvious. 

Another ambush overtakes you as Daemon connects the back of his hand with your cunt, the collusion sending a stinging pain through your body. He tsks in a manner that’s meant to scold a child, having heard it plenty of times before when he was around his nephews and nieces. 

“You can’t take it any longer? What a shame,” he teases. “If you’re feeling so overwhelmed, then perhaps I should stop?”

Remaining still for a moment, the weight of his heavy gaze pierces through your skin, and you’re glad he can’t see you rolling your eyes. You know that he has no intention of stopping, and he knows that you don’t want him to either. 

However, it seems he’s partly forgotten that you two share the same blood, and although he considers himself to be witty, you’re not lagging behind him.

“Oh, you want to stop?” you ask, a mocking edge to your otherwise strained voice. It is clear he’s taken off guard by your words, having expected you to beg and whine for more. “My, what a disappointing turn of events. I was so keen on experiencing you tonight. I–”

The rest of your protest dies on your tongue as he slides two digits inside without a warning, effectively silencing you. 

A jolt of pleasure surges through your body that has you clinging to the footboard of the bed, your knuckles blanching from the force. The moan you release is wanton, and brings a blush to your cheeks that’s intensified by the mocking scoff Daemon releases. 

Your legs are nudged further apart by his foot knocking against yours, causing you to be off-balanced for a moment in which he’s snaking his arm around your waist to support your frame. 

His chest is pressed flush against your back now, and you feel his breath fan over your ear, the heat emanating from him seeping into your skin.  

“I would not deprive you of that satisfaction tonight,” he rasps into your ear while his fingers pump into you at a pace that has your toes curling already, making it difficult to keep your composure. You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking, his amusement at the little back and forth of your flirting is perfectly audible. “My darling wife is brimming with pleasure already, but I am just getting started.”

Your eyes widen at his teasing, and if anything, it only makes you want him even more. As your head lulls back against his shoulder, you release another moan, dizzy with lust. 

With every passing second that you don’t have him inside of you, you grow more and more relentless. “Don’t you dare stop now,” you moan. “If you do, I shall feed you to Silverwing.”

Daemon lets out a breathy laugh at your words. “Quit being a brat, wife, or else I truly need to punish you to stop you from being so reckless with your words.”

You slightly push yourself up against his chest, but don’t manage to do more than hum in return at his words, the jolts of your impending peak coursing through your veins like liquid fire. 

There is a brief loss of friction that doesn’t diminish the pleasure that clouds your mind, induced by Daemon’s desire to withdraw his fingers to fill you with his stiff cock instead. 

Just in time with him aligning himself with your throbbing entrance, breaching your tightness to stretch you out with one, swift thrust, you topple over the edge. 

The spasming and shaking of your body has Daemon’s breath hitch in his throat, a strained ‘seven hells’ slipping past it that you barely register with you losing a little bit of control over your body. 

Your back arches against him, and he seizes the opportunity to set up a reckless pace from the very beginning on. 

“Well, now, if that isn’t a disappointing turn of events,” Daemon mocks with an amused chuckle, using your words against yourself. “I can… can not believe that’s all you can take, my dear.” There is a strain in his voice, one that tells you his mind is just as fuzzy with pleasure as yours, amplified by the way your cunt is clenching and unclenching around his hard cock. 

Daemon has both hands on your hips now, pulling you back halfway to meet the mercilessness of his thrusts. Each time the heavy sac of his stones slaps against your sensitive cunt, you feel it spasm again, bolts of pain and pleasure alike piercing your flesh. 

“I thought you would last longer, my sweet wife,” he groans, the term of endearment emphasized by a thrust harsh enough to coax a breathy gasp from your throat. “A sore disappointment.” 

At this point he’s all but assaulting your body, using you for his own pleasure like you’re not more than one of Flea Bottom’s common whores, pounding you hard enough that your vision whitens. 

Incoherent words and sentences are falling past your lips like a prayer, occasionally interrupted by his name, chanting it as if you’re praying to the Seven.

His grip on your hips is bruising, squeezing your flesh so tight you’re not sure if it brings you more pain or pleasure. But it’s something in his words that makes it all so exhilarating, reigniting the fire inside of you. 

Daemon is chasing his own peak with the will to fill you up with his seed, marking you as his and making his claim on you visible to everyone. But his stamina doesn’t seem to be able to handle the tightness of your cunt for any longer, running thin and threatening to burst at any given moment. 

It takes all your strength to hold onto the foodboard to keep yourself steady and upright, not wanting to topple over with the weight and intensity of his thrusts. But your slowly approaching high doesn’t make it too easy for you. 

Your second peak takes its time, but Daemon can tell it’s on its way, the clenching of your walls and trembling of your legs a telltale sign for him. One of his deft fingers comes to your pearl, and he proceeds to rub the bud with frantic movements that make sure to push you over the edge just in time. 

Your mouth hangs open, and there are no other sounds than breathy whines and hiccuped gasps slipping past your lips, the ability to speak completely taken by his cock repeatedly brushing the sweet spot inside of you. 

“I will not last any longer,” the man behind you grunts, the damp strands of his silver hair falling in front of his face. He buries the hand that’s not between your legs in your hair, pulling you upright against him. 

His hips are angled, allowing him to snap them into yours deeper and more precisely. “Peak for me again… now,” he all but commands, and it’s the sharpness and determination of his voice that eventually has you doing just that. 

Your arousal oozes out of your spasming cunt, coating the palm of his hand, the length of his cock and the sac of his stones altogether. 

Your head tips back in bliss, and hot streams of pleasure obscure your senses. The way your cunt is choking his cock makes it difficult for him to help you through it all, struggling to keep it together just a few moments longer. He’s brought you to such heights of pleasure that your mind temporarily blanks.

“Please,” you find your voice again, though it’s strained and resembles a whimper. “Put a babe in me. Fill me up with your seed… please.”

It might have been him being on the brink of his release already, or the meaning and significance of your words, but it is the trigger for Daemon to spend himself inside of you with a loud groan. 

“Gods be good,” he grunts, connecting his lips with the curve where your shoulder meets your neck as he works himself through the blissful high. Even as it subsides, he doesn’t stop and bites through the overstimulation, determined to fuck his seed as deep as possible and put a child into your belly. 

You’ve grown incredibly sensitive and overstimulated by now, and can’t fight against your body’s reaction to squirm out of his grasp to escape the uncomfortable feeling. But he doesn’t allow you to, keeping you flush against his firm chest. 

The soft whines you release, however, humor him, and he tilts his head to rest his forehead against the side of your face. 

“Let your foolish father come for you. I shall slay every man that even dares to look at you,” he rasps. “I possess you, you belong to none other than me.”

A blush spreads on your cheeks as his words sink into your mind, and you turn your head to meet his eyes for the first time ever since you’ve entered your chambers. The meeting of your gazes is intense, and you swear you can feel his flaccid member grow hard again.

You take his hand and bring it in front of you, placing it on your stomach. Without further encouragement, he starts to rub his palm over your skin as if his seed has already borne fruit.

“Let him come,” you whisper, licking your lips. “I have waited years to be with you alone, and to have you all by myself. And now that I have gotten my will, I will not give it up without a fight.”

General Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @connorsui @valeskafics

YTOTIPF Taglist: @ajthefujoshi @kiliskywalker666 @marihoneywk @beebeechaos @angelwonie @hangmanscoming @clarap23 @schniiipsel @aliveafterparadise @juhdoche @legalciv014 @theendlessvoidofdarkest @darkgvk @grsveeth0m @dd122004dd

[kidsinsaturn]

Can I plz rq hcs for being married to both shisui and Madara? Like how would they be with their s/o, domestic vibes, etc?

uchiha bride

[🗼] yesss I love this idea!! I've been in the madara feelings lately hahah I wanted to post this yesterday but I ate way too many tamales I felt sick

characters: shisui uchiha; madara uchiha

genre: sfw

warnings: gn!reader; possessiveness; mentions of discrimination ?; mention of manipulation; stalking; obsessive traits

..

..

..

..

-shisui husband of the year!! hellooo, this uchiha is just so sweet and mindful of you all the time

-your wedding was probably very traditional although very small. both shisui and you didn't want a lot of people there. he is a very private man after all

-if you are not uchiha, you must learn all to their customs and their culture, im sorry. shisui may disagree with some of his clan's ideals, but he still finds some of them very important and he loves them

-but of course he will also be very very open to learning more about your clan's traditions and if your clan has something special (like a kenkkei genkai or a physical feature), he wants to learn all the history behind it

-as we all know, the uchiha can be a bit hostile to foreigners, so if you were of another clan or even another village, shisui can even feel a bit pitiful that you have to go through all of this because of his dumb clan

-he assures you all the time that you are the perfect person for him, regardless of the loud, rude words that you can hear on your way to his house. which may lead to shisui and you moving to a house a bit secluded from the others, but still in the compound

-yeah im sorry but I sincerely do not see shisui dropping his duties as an uchiha and as a villager of konoha just for you. yes he loves you tons, but he always manages to divide equally his commitments. he will stay in the compound because he is an uchiha and has his own obligations in the clan

-even though it was a bit hard at the beginning because you were expecting different, shisui will not treat you any different. as a boyfriend, he was the best the version of himself, and now as a husband, he still is the best version of himself. he believes he shouldn't treat his spouse worse or better just because they are married. he always gave his 200% ok

-very domestic husband although he is out for work a lot. there are times he feels guilty for leaving you alone too much, but he is a provider okayyy he needs to work hard enough so you have everything

-which is why he will try to convince you to stay home if you are a shinobi. if he succeeds, he is deeply happy and relieved that you are safe now. but if you decide to keep your job as a ninja, he just lectures you to always be cautious and blah blah blah he is just worried okay? he doesn't want to lose his boo

-shisui will come with you to the gates of the village to bid you farewell with the longest, knee-dropping kiss. you only wish to end the mission soon so you can come back to have another one of his amazing kisses

-on canon universe, you only knew half of what was happening with the village and the clan. but on his final day, he made time to tell you everything, and just love you one last time oh no im not ok

-other uchiha and of course other villagers would respect you a lot of course. you are the spouse of sunshin no shisui hellooo. people will know of you immediately since shisui was quite the popular in the village. and ohh!! I am convinced many girls would be jealous of you because you took shisui first aughhh I wanna elaborate on this idea more haha

-madara is the most sensible and sentimental uchiha out there istg. he does not fall in love, and if he does, then i'ts over for the person, either they die or they both get married

-no but seriously, I don't want to get too much into this, but I deeply believe canon madara would not really get married because he is way too traumatized and obsessed with peace and war and dreams. so let's pretend this is another kind of au where madara is kind of normal and sane

-as much as you both wanted a small, quiet wedding, you just couldn't get it. madara is the clan leader and let's not forget he has the most booming, extrovert, and simple-minded best friends so of course it couldn't be a simple wedding

-hashirama wanted your wedding to be very special, and even though it was a bit too extravagant for your first ideas, it ended up being very cute and nice. madara is deeply in love with you, and from now on, you become his

-not that wasn't like that before. you were his everything the moment he realized his wanted you, and you were his from that second too. it's just that now he can say it out and wouldn't be called weird haha silly guy

-you gained the title of madara's spouse and by no means is that to take unseriously. all the uchiha clansmen respect you, at least in front of you. if you were from a different clan, you are to be judged there sorry. at least they are not dumb and do not say it out loud, but there are still whispers and well-masked judgmental faces every time you walked through the compound

-madara decides it is best for you two to live in the compound, and you can't really complain since he is clan head. however madara makes sure you are satisfied every day. always obtaining what you want thanks to the servants madara assigned you. and of course when he is home with you, he is very attentive to you

-you are never alone. if you're in your house and if madara is not there, there is always someone there with you, either the housekeeper or your servant. if you are out, there is someone there following your every step. when you realize this, you get mad at madara. he promises he will stop though he only reprimands the shinobi for being too noticeable and replaces him

-you get to know two faces of Madera. the one he shows everyone else, and the one he is with you. at first you are a bit taken aback by his sudden changes of demeanor and personality. he is firm, dominant, and stoic in front of others, even of his clansmen. his essence is dominant. but with you? he still is but a lot less lol

-he just can't help it at first, he says some things so bluntly that they even hurt. but he learns that you are no enemy, that you are his temple, he shouldn't be harsh to you. he ends up being very soft, you become his weakness, if you say something, he complies

-BUT the only thing he can't get rid of is his possessiveness, you are his, why do you need to go with someone else? you have him, is he not enough? do you want him to make some shadow clones so he is always your first choice? madara doesn't like seeing you with a lot of people; he has a mental list of the only people he is okay with, please respect his list

-he always needs to know what you do, where you will be going and what you will do. if you don't dare to spare any details, he will find out himself, though he will be hurt and disappointed

-and lets be reals guys... madara will at some point, manipulate you. either he doesn't like something you're doing or someone you are seeing, he will be very subtle with his words and just guide you toward a decision he wants you to make. he isn't stupid and tells you right there, no. he wants you to feel some sense of control of your actions when in reality, he is in charge of them

-he is a great husband though lol a bit insane but he deeply deeply loves you. he fears somethings happens to you and that's why he wants to control your life

[serendipitous-girl]

𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐤𝐮

⊱✿⊰ summary: head canons as a gift to @lovelykil

⊱✿⊰ warnings: nothing crazy. Mentions of pregnancy and kids but nothing nsfw

⊱✿⊰ notes: my first fanfiction on this new account! How exciting am i right??

❀ Izuku loves to show how grateful he is to have you as a partner. You are kind and compassionate and just amazing. He loves everything about you and does his best to show you that. He buys you flowers regularly, takes you on dates as much as he can (with his busy schedule), and tries to show you he appreciates you.

❀ Although he has a very busy life as a pro hero he makes time for you. Quick lunches in between rescues and the occasional time he takes a day off go spend it with you. Whenever he takes the day off he loves to make you dinner.

❀ He knows he wanted to marry you almost right into dating. You are so perfect ans you make him feel the best he could be. Why wouldn't he choose to spend the rest of his life with you?

❀ surprisingly or not, izuku prefers keeping your relationship details pretty private. Like he doesn't hide you from the public but he does keep them from giving you all invasive questions. Anyway, I think he proposed over a fancy dinner he cooked at home. Popping open the wine, pulling out the candles, y'know the works.

"Oh wow," you said, walking into the very fancy dinner Izuku had made for the both of you. You tried thinking back to if this was a special occasion but you could not figure out what it could possibly be.

"Zu, what's all this for?" You asked, looking at him with grateful confusion. He was so kind to you and you had no idea what you did to earn such a man. He smiles and sits you down, telling you to enjoy dinner and he'd explain later.

So the both of you ate dinner with easy conversation, just like any sort of date you'd go on. After dinner you opened your mouth to ask what had been bugging you all evening when he knelt in front of you.

"Will you marry me?" He asked, his freckled face the most adorable pink color. He looked like the high schooler you met all those years ago, nervous but so strong.

"Yes, yes! I would love to marry you!" You answered, a few tears breaking free from your overwhelming amounts of emotion. He grinned, putting the ring on your finger before wrapping his arms around your waist and twirling you around.

❀ you guys had a relatively simple wedding. Full of family and close friends (not to mention the stray reporters who somehow snuck in.) Your classmates and teachers from UA even managed to come which was lucky.

❀ i think you guys honeymooned in like Italy or something. Izuku would have asked for America though lol

❀ I would think about a year into marriage you start to talk about kids. Izuku has always wanted kids and especially wants them with you so of course he brings up the conversation. He has enough money as a top pro hero to support any decisions including if you chose to continue working rather than being a stay at home mom.

❀ he is so happy when you tell him you are pregnant with a baby girl. After celebrating with you he immediately calls his mom to tell her the good news, which she was also excited for. Inko definitely came to your place later that day with fresh cookies for her son and his gorgeous wife. Inko loves you like you were her own daughter.

❀ The pregnancy goes smoothly and you gave birth to an adorable little girl, named Zuri. (Both her and Izuku's nicknames are Zu). She was perfect and sweet.

❀ Izuku tries to spend as much time with his family as he can. He take days off and makes sure you and Zuri feel as loved as possible.

❀ When Zuri was four years old she asked for a baby brother which you and Izuku were more than happy to oblige. Thus comes your son, Mikumo (nicknamed Mikey)

❀ you guys are honestly the cutest family. You are literally the model family for all of Japan. You guys are on the cover of some sort of magazine or something.

[visual-freak]

Saiki Kusuo Headcanons

Note: doing this because I need a way to let these thoughts out of my head

- he’s definitely the type to eat & drink your own food the second you turn your head away and will pretend as if your piece of cake missing a bite wasn’t his doing

- he’ll buy you a new one don’t worry (and proceed to take a bite out of that one too) (yall he literally drank teruhashis smoothie while invisible simply because😭)

- DO NOOOOOT try to engage in PDA with him. He will find and try every way to avoid it at any cost. It creates to much attention towards him.

- he’ll make up to you later in private

- the type to teleport to your room at random times when he “needs your help” with something

- he wanted an excuse to be around you, though if you try and say that to him he’ll leave to try and prove a point. (He’s gonna come back eventually)

- He will stalk you

- this is canon, and if you say otherwise..you’re lying

- he literally stalks his friends all the time in the series to make sure they’re okay. Though he claims it’s because if he doesn’t then it’ll inconvenience him in some way

- but yeah, you’re not at school one day? Using clairvoyance to figure out where you at

- decide to take a walk alone at night for some reason? He’s using invisibility and is lowkey right behind you

- He practically has your entire routine memorized to the beat

-How’d he know you love coming to this corner store afterschool to get this specific snack? Lucky guess🤷🏾‍♀️

- He was most definitely not the one to confess

- how you got him to actually commit to being with you is beyond my abilities as a writer ✋🏾😔

-but he is extremely loyal

-buddy does not play about his partner

- teruhashi? Now he’s definitely working overtime to get her to get OVER him, avoiding her like the black plague

- might even use his annoyed face (jkjk he knows that her minions might actually murder him somehow someway)

- it’s going to take him a LOONG time for him to tell you about his powers.

- like he would need to trust you A TON

-but when you do find out and you’re cool with it, it’s definitely a lot of weight off his shoulders

- someone he can actually talk to about his problems openly

- speaking of his powers he’s not letting kusuke ANYWHERE NEAR YOU

-ABSOLUTELY NOT

- his brother as shown in the series will use anything and ANYONE to get to kusuo just so he can beat him at SOMETHING

-God forbid his brother tries bringing you into his sadistic little game of his, who knows what kusuo will do

- also his parents adore you. Especially his mother

- she invite you over a lot, whether it’s for tea, cooking lessons or a special event

- his grandparents are waiting for your wedding (to kusuo’s displeasure, he’s sick of hearing them saying that)

-there’s been multiple times kusuo will simply just drag you to his room for some privacy or just go somewhere outside the house.

- but that would usually mean bumping into your others nuisances friends.

- which he will ever so slightly lean into your side as a way of telling you he wants to leave

- ok my brain has stopped functioning. Good night and enjoy!

[just-some-random-blogger]

Out Of Luck

"Perhaps I'm not the only one who's going to be wed in King's Landing," Sansa jeers with a grin. I glare at her, "if you weren't my sister, I'd have stabbed you." The girl giggles and takes my arm.

Petyr Baelish & Jaime Lannister x Stark!Reader | 3k+ | cw: fem!reader, descriptions of reader (black hair), widow!reader, enemies to lovers?, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: felt right so I'm writing it. Yes, I added Harwin Strong, yes I know it's not canon. It is now in my world 😌 anyway, he's still dead so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ Cross posted on AO3!

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @otteropera

"Father" I call with a smile. He spots me and I lift my skirt as I jog up to him.

The man hides what he was holding behind him. He smiles and meets me halfway in the hall. He greets me good morrow when I link my arm with his and kiss his cheek.

"And is that... a very important tool of the Lord Hand?" I tilt my head as I ask, "might I not even see it?"

He sighs and slowly brings the object in front of him. We both look at the brightly dressed doll. My father has an apprehensive look on his face. I hold back a laugh, "ah, a pretty dolly. Are you quite bored of your job already? Do they give dolls to the Hand or were you duped into buying this?"

"I knew you'd say something like this," he mutters.

"If you knew I'd say it, why'd you still get it, papa?" I chuckle.

"I bought it for your sister."

I make a face, "my sister?" I raise a brow, "which between Arya and Sansa do you think would prefer playing with such an ugly dolly?"

He calls my name out.

"What?"

He lowers the doll, "it's not that ugly."

"So even you agree," I snigger, "and yet you still bought it!"

We both begin to walk down the hall.

He warns me, "I'll tell on your mother."

"For what?" I hold back a laugh.

"For calling me papa," he lifts his nose.

I chuckle at the thought. Mother never liked it when I used mama and papa; improper for a lady, she says. I think it's also because when I use it, I pull on their heart strings and manage to make them do my bidding. Twas the gift of the first born.

"I can hear it now," I grin at the man as I squeeze his arm, "Eddard Stark," I motion vaguely, "stripped of his title as Lord Hand for his poor taste in dolls."

My grin widens at the sound if his low laugh. I give a louder laugh, happy to have gotten the reaction I did out of him. It's been a while since I've heard my father chuckle, or anyone from my family, for that matter.

"I wouldn't worry about it, love," father pulls me into his chest, "the king's taste in dolls are surely worse than mine."

I let out a giggle. My father joins in.

I look out the window as we saunter down the hall and turn back to my father when he mutters, "she's changed quite a lot since we've moved here."

He looks at the doll in his hand.

It takes a moment before I smile and give a playful look, "have you seen any of your daughters play with dollies lately, father?"

My words do not work this time. My smile fades at the sight of the line between my father's brows. I mutter softly, "haven't we all changed?"

He turns to me then stops.

I raise my brows. Ned Stark offers me a smile. He takes my hands and shakes his head, "not you, my daughter," he rubs my knuckles with his thumb, "never you."

My heart clenches at his words. I cannot bring myself to smile back because I knew it wasn't true.

"Forgive me for intruding on a private moment."

We both pull away and turn to our side. There we see a blonde doll wrapped in steel. Ser Jaime bows, "Lord Hand, Lady Stark--" he stops himself and lifts his head, "oh, apologies. It's in bad taste for me to call you that."

My father shifts in his spot.

I play it off, "nonsense. I am born of house Stark," I pull my lips into a tight smile, "and my husband is dead."

"Ah, yes," the knight sighs, "poor man. Just had a taste of being one then--" he shakes his head to make his point. He raises a finger, "he was your age, wasn't he?"

I clench my jaw and nod.

Ser Jaime rests a hand on his hilt, "what was his house again?"

Before I can respond, my father blurts, "have you come to rub salt in my daughter's wounds, Kingslayer?"

I turn to my feet with wide eyes. I slowly turn to the see the fuming look on my father's face and whisper, "papa."

Ser Jaime lifts his nose. An smirk masks his face, "not at all, my Lord."

I look back at the kingsguard, not enjoying how quickly tension solidified between us.

"The king demands your presence," growls the Lannister, jaw hardened, golden mane wafting with the breeze.

Father's face is stern but he nods and raises the doll, "I will go to him after I-"

"Get that bloody Ned here now," Jaime speaks. He watches Ned lower the doll. He purses his lips while father's expression sours even more. He shrugs, "King's words, not mine."

In an instant, all the tension in father's body is gone. He looks like he's about to smile and it makes my stomach churn because I knew what that meant. I take the doll from him before anything else. He looks at me and I nod, "I'll give it to Sansa."

He stares me blankly.

"I'll try to force her affection onto the thing," I look at the doll, "maybe she'll let it chaperone us to the tourney later."

I smile at the sound of papa's low laugh.

He nods.

Ned's smile fades when he turns back to Jaime. Jaime gives a wry smile, "I'll escort the lady back to her chambers in her father's stead."

Neither of us decide to argue over it.

Father walks off, eyeing Jaime as he did, and I purse my lips when I turn to him, "I'm actually headed to the library."

"Mmm," he furrows his brows, "then I'm actually headed there too."

We begin to walk down the hall. I laugh as I look at the doll in my hands.

Jaime turns to me upon hearing this. He decides not to note on the ugly doll, "like reading, do you?"

I look at him and smile, "I do."

"You sure you don't go to that musty room to hide from everyone?"

I raise a brow, "you seem to have experience."

"Tyrion was like that," he looks forward, "except father never bought him a doll as a companion."

I look away just as Jaime looks back at me, "does the library match the fantasies of a book lover?"

I chuckle. I turn to his side again. I am unable to stop myself from thinking how dashing his grin at the moment was, "It definitely is as grand as I expected it to be. Winterfell is not blessed with nearly as many tomes."

"The younger Stark girls must not like reading as much as their big sister, considering the ugly thing in your paw," he nods at my direction.

"I'm sure one of them will find use of it," I lift the thing up and look at it. I glance upon Jaime, "oh, goodness. It actually looks quite like you."

Jaime pulls his chin back, "you clearly have issues with your eyes."

"No, it's uncanny. Yellow hair, evil intent."

"Evil intent?" Jaime stops in his tracks, "you mock and slander me," he raises brow and grips his hilt, "I should have your tongue for it."

"Mmm," I turn to him and slowly walk backward, "kingsguard takes the tongue of the Lord Hand's daughter? Sounds like a page out of my books."

He tilts his head, looking me up and down before chuckling as he turns to his feet. He lick his teeth then furrows his brows, "lend me that book once you're done."

We reach the stairwell the connected to the gardens.

I tilt my head and stop in my tracks when I see Sansa and her handmaiden.

"Sansa!" I call, waving at her. She looks at me and waves back.

I turn to Jaime and curtsy, "I have changed my mind, ser," I rise and smile, "I'll be joining my sister in the gardens instead."

Jaime nods and gives a lopsided smile, "very well, my lady. Bid my greetings to the pup. I pray she doesn't get a heart attack from your father's gift."

I chuckle, "she used to have a wolf, you know."

With that, Jaime and I part ways.

Sansa immediately grabs my arm once I am close enough, "what were you doing with Jaime?"

"Ser Jaime Lannister," I correct her, raising a brow, "I didn't know you two were familiar."

"Was he courting you?" Sansa asks as she releases my arm.

I immediately shush her, "do not speak of such things, girl. You know how quickly gossip spreads here." I hand her the doll, "he was escorting me to the library in father's stead."

"This isn't the library-"

"Clearly not."

She takes the doll, "what is this?"

"A gift from father," I grin, "a chaperone to the tourney later."

Sansa glares at me, nearly turning red as her hair. She chucks the doll to the ground and storms away.

I huff and pick up the doll, "Sansa." I follow after her, "it was a joke."

"I haven't played with dollies for years!"

"I know," I rush up to her and grab her arm, "papa bought it for you to try and ease your worries."

She grits her teeth and corrects, "father should just do his job and stop treating me like a little girl." She breaks away from me and moves past me.

"You are a little girl."

"I'm going to be queen one day," she turns to me, "and you won't be able to make fun of me then."

"Sansa, I'm not making fun of you!"

Sansa does not listen and simply walks away.

Her old handmaiden turns to me and smiles. She takes the doll from me, "I'll put this in her room."

I nod and smile.

By the time we were seated for the tourney, Sansa and I made peace by giving the doll to Arya for her to mutilate. All three of us enjoyed the bonding experience very much.

Right now, we were huddled together, pointing at the players. Sansa whispered to me who she thought handsomest and Arya exclaimed over who she thought was strongest. I alternate my attention between them, swooning with one, cheering with the other, but it doesn't take long for them to get into a clash, as always.

They begin to bicker over me and I would have just snapped at them had we not been in public. I instead silence both of them by swooning and cheering for the Hound once we spot him from afar.

Both young Starks gawk at me in disbelief and disgust.

"You can't be serious," Sansa mutters with a pale face.

Arya tilts her head, "I mean, he is pretty big."

I laugh at both of them, "can't I cheer for all the players?"

"No," they say at once.

I tear my gaze from the tourney grounds to look over my shoulder. I gaze upon the crowds, looking to see if father was already here. I mutter to no one in particular, "I wonder what's taking him so long."

"Look," Sansa, on my left, tugs at my arm, "ser Jaime is going to be riding!"

I ignore her and push Arya, who was seated to my right, behind as I crane my neck to look for farther.

Sansa leans on my back and mutters to Arya, "ser Jaime likes her."

Arya grins and looks down at me, "oooh. The lion and the wolf."

I quickly sit up and eye both of them, "shut it, you."

They giggle with each other.

"Father will not be pleased if he hears you are wanting to feed nasty rumors."

"Oh, but nasty rumors are the most intruding, wouldn't you agree, Lady Strong?"

The three of us turn to the man walking over. He stops just below where Arya was sat.

"Or should I say, Lady Stark?" he smiles and nods at me. He looks to my left, "Lady Stark," then to my right, "Lady Stark."

I offer a smile and my first name, "you can simply call me that to avoid confusion, my lord."

"Petyr Baelish," he grins, blue eyes glistening with apparent mischief.

"Lord Baelish," I nod. I squeeze both my sister's hands, prompting both to greet all the same.

Lord Baelish smiles, "I'm glad to finally meet the eldest Stark," he reaches a hand out to me, "the words spoken about your beauty do you no justice."

Both my sisters make a face when I take the man's hand and he leans in to kiss it.

He straightens up and brings his hands behind his back, "my deepest sympathies to you. Lord Harwin Strong left us too soon. I've heard a great many things about Breakbones, how he puts the strong in House Strong."

Arya side eyes Baelish before turning away to look at tourney grounds.

Sansa stares hotly at him as she clutches my arm.

"Thank you, Lord Baelish," I nod and pull a smile, "if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer not to talk about him more than this."

"Of course," he bows. He tilts his head back as he smiles. He walks off and climbs the stairs to get to his seat just behind us.

"Do you know who's going to fight first?" Arya asks as she leans on my lap. I wrap my arm over her shoulders and turn to where she was looking. I spot Jaime speaking to whom was probably his squire from afar.

"Don't worry, little one, they'll announce it," Baelish speaks from behind, making all of us turn to him then back front. When I look back, I see Jaime looking our way.

"I hope ser Jaime starts on our side," Sansa mutters as she leans into me, though her eyes are still fixed on the Lannister.

Arya turns to me and toys with my black hair, "I hope he defeats the Hound to win your affection."

Baelish makes a face upon hearing that.

I snort at the thought then shoot her a half serious face, "shut it."

"I see you girls are fond of the Kingslayer," Baelish says, making us turn back to him again.

Arya side eyes him once more. Sansa looks away, uninterested.

I respond before turning frotn, "he is a rather good swordsman. Or so I hear."

"He usually doesn't play in tourneys. He says he's too good for them," Baelish mutters, "something must have made him change his mind."

"Maybe he's trying to impress someone," Sansa replies, not bothering to look back anymore, "maybe a lady?"

I squeeze her arm when she says this. She does not even spare me a glance.

"Yes," Baelish darting his eyes below him, "perhaps."

We look to the sky when a rumble suddenly cracks.

"What's taking them so long?! It's going to rain, and then the games will be cancelled!" Arya complains.

"They-"

"They're waiting for the king," Baelish replies.

Arya makes a face. I'm the only one that turns back to the man. I smile at his already smiling face then turn to Arya, "papa's not here either. The king is probably making him do something."

Baelish chuckles under his breath, muttering lowly to himself, "papa? How sweet."

Then suddenly, truly out of nowhere, it began to rain.

My sisters and I quickly stand. I immediately grab them and we run off to the nearest place that could offer cover. We head to a tent, but the trouble was, everyone was heading there too.

The rain quickly begins to pour harder.

I do my best to cover Sansa and Arya's head, but my hands could only do so much. The three of us look up when something comes above us.

I feel someone behind me. I turn and see it's Lord Baelish. He's taken his tunic off and used it to cover us.

"Come, my Lady Starks," he speaks over the loud patter of the rain, "I will escort you back inside!"

We turn to him, his dress shirt now dripping and stuck to his form. I nod at him, "thank you, my lord."

"Don't thank me yet," he smirks, face wet with rain, "one of you may yet slip on mud."

Lord Baelish leads the way, uncaring of how wet he's gotten, and offers his arm out to us intermittently. Meanwhile, we hold up his tunic overhead and huddle under it, treading as quickly yet carefully as we can on the mucky ground.

"I do hope the rain does not ruin your fine garb, Lord Baelish," I call as Sansa and I lift our skirts up and do our best not to trip on it.

Arya was very much glad to be wearing pants, and cheerfully steps into puddles without a care in the world.

But then she slips.

Baelish manages to grab her arm before she falls. He pulls her upright and chuckles, "careful now. You wouldn't want to take your sisters down with you."

Arya let's out a hmp when she is released.

"And don't worry about my tunic," he smiles at me, "I'd rather it be ruined than have 3 ladies get sick under my watch."

Sansa gasps and grabs my arm when her heels sink in the wet dirt. I help her keep her footing and smile back at the man, "thank you, Lord Baelish."

"As I said, don't thank me yet. It's still quite a walk to the Keep," he comes to Sansa's side and helps her straighten up, "and call me Petyr."

I part my lips at the thought.

He shakes his head and chuckles, "I insist."

[hadesisqueer]

Every time I remember that Korra canonically provoked a gay revolution in the Water Tribes by being openly bi because they started questioning the idea of “keeping it private” and started to come out, and that Eska and Desna legalized same-sex marriage in the Northern Water Tribe and even attend weddings to show support I laugh. Idk. Imagine you're just going to your brother's wedding and you see the chiefs just chilling there in front row.