#yes those are courting braids in their hair

[captnbas]

at the coronation of aragorn elessar

[chronic-optimistt]

After influenced by Allison and Renee, Neil def hops on the beads-in-tiny-braid bandwagon

[fleurriee]

— the one ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; neteyam was beginning to court you, much to your elation. each time he showed you how much you meant to him, you only fell more in love with him.

word count ; 10.3k (we don’t talk about it)

themes ; fluff, soon-to-be mates

warnings ; tooth-rotting fluff, vv brief mentions of worrying over someone’s well-being, uses of y/n.

author’s note ; i can’t tell if this got slightly worse as it neared the end but we’re just gonna leave it bc i do like it. i mean, who doesn’t like the idea of neteyam courting them??? also, this is my longest fic yet & it wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near this long but i just got carried away bc i love neteyam so much. sue me. 

main masterlist  request a fic!

For a short while now, yourself and Neteyam were in the courting process of your relationship.

It wasn’t too long ago when the male Na’vi asked your permission to do so, along with your parents’, and the thought always caused butterflies to roam in your stomach, no matter how much time passed in between. Neteyam was the perfect Na’vi - a mighty warrior, a caring gentleman, someone who knew how to properly lead, something that would one day aid him when he took over as Olo’eyktan. 

So, in short, you simply couldn’t believe your luck when he asked you.

You could argue that you saw it coming with the way he always sought you out in a crowd, the gentle smiles he sent in your direction, but you’d be lying to yourself. Having Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan choose you to be his mate was something you never would have imagined possible in your wildest dreams. Of course, it was something you did imagine - you were pretty sure every other Na’vi your age did, too - but to have it play out in front of your very eyes was a whole different experience.

His family were welcoming, too, letting you safe in their warm embrace and treating you like one of their own - because you would be, someday soon. Neteyam’s family and your own got on well which was a huge relief to the both of you, making his progress just slightly easier. 

His aforementioned progress in courting you was something that caused a blush to rise on your cheeks, filling you to the brim with elation. Each time you saw him, you were sure you were close to combusting; each time he spoke, you were sure your heart was close to melting. Everything about Neteyam was godly, otherworldly... how in Ewya had you managed to get him to choose you as a mate?

You were forced out of your jumbled, overthinking thoughts when Tuk let out a loud gasp. The young girl was situated in front of you, comfortably placed on top of your crossed legs, twiddling away at the carved wooden toys her eldest brother had gifted her a while ago. She had come to you earlier, asking you to braid her hair with some of the beads she had recently collected with her sister, Kiri. Of course, you couldn’t say no to her - you were sure Tuk could ask anything of you, no matter the circumstance, and you’d still say yes. It was those big eyes looking up at you, all pure and innocent of the dangers surrounding them with the war brewing nearby. You’d do anything to shield her away from that.

When Tuk gasped, for a split second, you thought you’d hurt her. Your eyes were frantic as you looked over her figure, but then another sound pierced through the atmosphere - a horn. Following Tuk’s line of sight, that’s when you spotted the group of ikran’s beginning to descend back into camp, chants from the warriors filling the air with their victory. 

That meant Neteyam was back, too.

Lightly brushing back Tuk’s hair, the braids practically finished, you patted her back to ensure her she was okay to run over to her returning family. She doesn’t even pay you any mind and you laugh at her reaction, watching as she screams out in exclamation, her feet rushing over to where you watch her parents descend. 

Standing up from the ground, you jump down from where you were seated, landing softly and jogging over, following after Tuk. The idea of seeing Neteyam again - even though it hadn’t been that long since you last saw one another - had you full to the brim with excitement. He was your future mate - it was practically your job to feel like this at the prospect of seeing him, even if you had only been away for a short period of time.

But, when your eyes finally land on who you were looking for, the smile drops from your face and replaces itself with worried features. Just a couple of steps away, you watch as Jake stands in front of his two sons, his back clearly showing off his agitation. You don’t hear what they’re saying, but you can tell it’s nothing good - both Neteyam and Lo’ak have their heads hung low, ashamed at the obvious lecture they were receiving from their father.

At the sight, you can’t help the way your heart aches for the two boys. Since Neteyam had started to court you, you had spent a lot of time with his family, meaning you got to know each of them pretty well, including Lo’ak. You got on with him great, despite your stark differences in personality, but you could tell everything he did was just to live up to the shadow of both his father and older brother. He just wanted to be like them.

And, Neteyam - he was always the protector, whether it was for his parents, his siblings, for you. If Lo’ak had done something reckless and dangerous, you knew Neteyam wouldn’t have been too far behind him, watching his every move and ensuring his younger brother’s safety. It was both a strength and a weakness of his.

Your eyes scrape over your future mate, checking every inch of his body until you spot a cut at his side that he’s trying to hide from everyone else’s view. It’s clear no one else has spotted it, or else you were sure they would’ve sent him straight to a healer to get it treated. Thankfully, the wound didn’t look too bad, but you could tell it was hurting him - from the signs of him fidgeting from foot to foot, keeping his hand pressed firmly against his side in a weak attempt to dull the pain, his eyes frantically searching about the place to find an opening of escape.

You know him too well.

That’s when your eyes meet, and if it wasn’t for the worry currently eating away at your very being, it would’ve felt as though the whole of Pandora stopped around you, just the two of you in a world of your own. That’s how it always felt around Neteyam, and knowing you had more of this to look forward to for the rest of your lives was enchanting.

In a bid to reassure your future mate, you send him over a soft smile, one full of care and admittance. A small nod of your head accompanied it, too, ensuring him that you would be there for him when he was finished with his father. You understand the weight bearing down upon his shoulders after the several times he would open himself up to you, and you’d be damned if you let him drown. No matter the circumstance, no matter the cost, you’d make it your life’s mission to pull him out when he started to struggle.

A tense smile in return is your only response, another subtle nod of his head with it, too, but you can see the way his body moves stiffly, as if afraid of more reprimand, as if hurting. His eyes held all the love and adoration he had for you like they always did, and seeing such a sight made you feel a little calmer about the situation.

Neither yourself nor Neteyam were conspicuous in your looks towards one another, it seemed, for Jake immediately noticed the way his eldest son’s attention was snagged somewhere else. He watched as Neteyam’s ears twitched a little, tail perking up from its once ashamed downturn, a smidge of light coming back to his eyes. It was obvious what the cause of such a demeanour was, and when he turned his head to look behind himself and found you, standing your weight from one foot to the another, fingers mindlessly playing together in a bid to calm your nerves and tail swishing in anticipation, he was proved correct. 

He sighed deeply, turning back around and talking to Neteyam, words being shared that you couldn’t hear, but as he gestured over to you, you stood straighter as you realised he was dismissing his son. The young Na’vi in question doesn’t move quickly, something you can decipher from his wounded side he continued to clutch away from any possible prying eyes, but he does move eagerly, wanting to get over to you as soon as he can.

Not even ten steps between the two of you, and your feet are moving of their own accord, hurrying closer to his figure. You reach your arms out to him, hands grasping against his arms with care to help steer him in the direction of a healing tent. Your eyes wonder seamlessly back down to his wound, looking over every inch of it to ensure it’s not entirely life-threatening. In conclusion that it isn’t, a small breath of relief escapes your lips, shaking your head - still, it looks painful.

Looking back up at him, your eyes filter from one of his to the other in a bid to garner his full attention whilst the two of you continue walking. “Are you okay?” you question, your voice coming out breathy. 

“It is fine.” His words are short and sharp, and if it wasn’t for the piercing wound aching at his side, you’d assume he was mad at you. But, that obviously wasn’t the case - Neteyam rarely got angry, and if he did, he swore it’d never be at you.

You scoff before you can decipher your own response, eyes trailing back down. “It doesn’t look fine.” When he doesn’t say anything in return, you look back up at him, finding his gaze already trained on you, a small, graceful smile painting at his lips. It makes your heart flutter, knowing that such a rare beauty is entirely for you. Trying to bite back the reciprocating smile desperate to show itself, you shake your head at your future mate and his antics, wanting to stay annoyed at him for once again throwing himself in harm’s way for the sake of others. But, when he looks at you like that, you find it difficult to do anything.

The healing tent you had intended to take him into finally appeared in front of you, sounds of chatter and winces coming through to your ears from inside. You weren’t a fan of such places due to the pain and misery it brought the people of your clan, but as the mate of the future Olo’eyktan, you knew you’d eventually have to suck it up and put on a brave face for those around you. You’d be spending more time in there than you’d like to admit.

Bringing your arm up and leaving the other one clasped tightly around Neteyam’s bicep, you go move the tent flap away, but another beats you to it. Despite the obvious pain he’s in, Neteyam reaches out, opening the entrance up for you and gestures you in. You stop in your tracks, looking over at him pointedly, but he doesn’t acknowledge the way your eyes reprimand him - even when in agony, he’s still adamant to be a good future mate in courtship.

You sigh, almost a little agitated that he still felt the need to prove himself to you, even when your heart beats rapidly in your chest at such a domestic gesture, the determination of Neteyam Sully peaking through his pained actions. As you step inside, you feel him grab a hold of your hand from behind you, his warm and callous skin juxtaposing against one another, but have you shivering in affection all the same. He allows you to guide him through the tent, weaving around those moving hurriedly to others sitting and waiting for their treatment, before you finally find a somewhat-secluded area towards the back.

With his hand still firmly in your grip, you turn to him, moving your other one around his bicep again and begin helping the both of you steadily to the ground, each of you guiding the other with delicacy. You didn’t want Neteyam to be in more pain than he already was, and Neteyam always treated you like you were fragile glass - something that didn’t bother you, although you have had others say it would bother them, but you paid no mind to them.

Once the two of you were as comfortable as you could be in a tent crowded with other injured people, sat cross-legged and facing one another, you gently pried his hand that had continued to cover the wound in his side. You were slow with your movements, sending him a look of reassurance that you would be tender. He winced slightly when the cool breeze smacked so suddenly against the now-rough skin, his head hanging low and shaking from side to side to tell himself that the pain was nothing. Neteyam never did like to come across as weak - especially in front of you.

You can’t help the way your eyes narrow up at him, a frown on your lips. “I wish you were more careful...” your voice is barely a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear in on your conversation. With thoughtful touches, you begin to clean away at the wound, wanting to make sure the blood is washed away and nothing made its way in that could make it worse. 

“I am always careful.” There’s another wince, another strain when he speaks, the sensation of your fingers against his skin both sending delightful shivers down his spine and causing his tail to stand on end from the pain.

Stopping in your movement, you sit up in front of him, watching as he slowly lifts his head once he realises you’ve paused. “This,” you say, pointing directly to his wound, “says otherwise.”

Neteyam doesn’t say anything as you immediately go back to your previous work of cleaning him, knowing that whatever he says will only be argued with a firm answer you no doubt have ready to fire at him. He understands you, though, because if the situation was switched and you were in his position, he knows his head wouldn’t be in the right frame of mind, either. Neteyam would be imagining different scenarios where you’d ended up worse, more injured, or even... If he didn’t like to think about it, he couldn’t imagine the feeling of going through it, and you did, every time he went out with the war party. You didn’t know what condition he was going to be coming back to you in... you didn’t know if he was going to be coming back.

Neteyam understood.

So, rather than biting back, the Na’vi instead smiled down at your working figure, pure love shining bright in his eyes as he watched your concentration prevail through your hurried movements, your gentle fingers, your narrowed eyes. Everything about you was so beautiful to Neteyam, even when you were surrounded in a crowded room by others who didn’t deserve to witness such a sight. He couldn’t believe his luck of getting to call you his own.

While you work, moving one of your hands back in the direction of his wound, you feel it get snatched away. You look up at Neteyam, about to tell him off for not letting you work, when you watch him place a firm, tender kiss against your knuckles, his eyes never once leaving your own. 

You can feel yourself blush profusely at his actions, tilting your head to the side subconsciously as he only smirks at your reaction - he always knew the best ways to get you right in the palm of his hands. Instead of previously wanting to reprimand him, your words are but a murmur when you speak, eyes continuously flickering from his eyes to somewhere behind him in order to distract yourself. “I’m trying to concentrate, ‘teyam.”

His heart is full, ready to burst, when he hears your nickname for him, something he loves from only a select few people, with you being right at the top. Keeping your hand in his own, his thumb beginning to run smoothly where he kissed you against your knuckles, he chuckles at your attempt to stay focused. “I know,” he nods lightly, eyes bright and fangs pointed in bliss. “That’s why I kissed you - you look adorable when you concentrate.” 

As soon as the words left his lips, your head sharply snapped back over to him, irises blown wide, ears high upon your head and tail curling in on itself from the compliment. No matter how many times he’d talk to you in such a way, or did certain things that made you feel all mushy inside, it’d always gain the same reaction from you. And, he loved it. 

You plaster on a playfully annoyed expression, trying to fight the smile dancing at your lips. Chuckling, you shake your head. “Do you want me to help you, or not?”

He laughs, breathless, tongue flicking out and running along his fangs as his eyes make a point of looking over every inch of your figure. It makes you cower in on yourself, and this time, you allow your lips to curve at the edges. Neteyam doesn’t say anything in return, just shrugs mindlessly like he hadn’t been internally torturing you beforehand, letting you get back on with healing your future mate. 

Not once does he move his gaze away from such a beautiful sight.

Your hands moved in a hurried motion, eagerness and anticipation beginning to eat away at you. You moved from one side of your tent to the other, the empty space allowing you to rush around without having to worry about bumping into or getting on your parent’s nerves. The both of them would be out all day - your mother spending the day with the younger Na’vi in your clan, and your father helping out with training the soon-to-be warriors. 

With the day ahead seeming so empty, you had decided to take it upon yourself to go out into the vast forests of Pandora and collect some fruit for your family. Foraging was something you always enjoyed, ever since your mother took you out for the first time. There was something about just carelessly exploring the lush greenery whilst stumbling upon something new - it brought you happiness and peacefulness. 

Of course, you couldn’t go out there unprotected, making sure to stop by your mat where you kept your bow and arrows and tying them around yourself. Going out into the forest alone wasn’t uncommon, but it was something the clan didn’t like to do often. However, you did - just for the tranquillity of being alone for a little while when you were constantly surrounded by the hustle and bustle of so many people at once. You knew there was always going to be a chance of you running into something dangerous whilst you were out there, so, to calm the nerves of your friends and family after finding out about your little lonesome adventures, you assured them you’d always take a weapon with you.

Sighing, you stood tall, looking around your tent then to your body, making sure you were definitely prepared before setting off for the day. You looped your mother’s empty basket through one arm, hoping to be full to the brim with an array of fruits by the time you returned in a few hours, your bow was tucked over your neck and hanging against your shoulders, and your arrows were placed firmly upon your back, ready for their use. You just hoped you wouldn’t have to resort to using them.

With a nod of your head, you turn around, beginning to walk out the entrance of your tent. You kept your eyes trained to the floor, hanging your head low so as not to bump it against anything and have an embarrassing story to talk about later on, when you ended up bumping your entire body into something anyway.

You gasped in surprise at the sudden sensation, the solid material in front of you hitting against you fairly harshly. Stumbling on your feet, you were sure you would’ve fallen down like a sack, but your saving grace came in the form of two hands, gentle yet rough in texture, catching onto your upper arms, wrapping their fingers against your biceps. 

Looking up, you spotted Neteyam. The morning sun hit against his back, painting him in an ethereal glow, and you swore you had never seen anything so glorious in all your life on Pandora. He had a cheeky smile on his lips, eyes roving over your features, his hands still holding tightly onto you - he knew you were steady on your feet now, but he simply didn’t want to let you go.

When you made eye contact with Neteyam, you were so entranced, you couldn’t look away. The way his eyes caught against the light began to suck you in until you were his entirely, no one and nothing else mattered in the world because Neteyam was right here, looking at you. The close proximity between the two of you made the heat rise against your cheeks, painting you in a darker blue, but your eyes never strayed from his. How could you, when he looked like this? You could feel his breath fan against your face, the feeling sending shivers to your skin.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and teasing, that stupid smile never once leaving his lips as he looked down at you like you were some sort of prey and he the predator. 

“Hi,” you whispered, voice sultry and soft, struggling to find the correct words to say to him due to your stuttering heart and how close you were, feeling every slight move he made against your own body. “What are you doing here?” You were happy to see him, but confused by his presence - you knew he had training with his father early that morning (part of the reason why you decided to go out), and if he was here with you now, you were sure he was going to end up being late, something Neteyam did once in a blue moon. 

He shrugged carelessly, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I wanted to say good morning.”

You look up at him expectantly, waiting, but when he only continued to look at you adoringly, you narrow your eyes in confusion. “Are you going to say it...?” Your words are still a whisper, but this time, there’s a teasing lilt to them as you watch his smile grow wider when he realises his mistake.

Neteyam began to laugh at your sudden cheekiness, something you didn’t do often but he absolutely cherished, silently wishing to himself that you did it more. Maybe he’d just have to do things like this a little more. “Good morning, yawne (beloved).” As he spoke, he leant down towards you, giving your cheek a feather-light kiss, you had to run the sensation over in your mind again. When he pulled back, you couldn’t hold his eye contact, too flustered to look up at him, knowing that if you did, your cheeks would only continue to darken from their original colour. Neteyam found it endearing, smile so bright his fangs were pointing out, before eventually spotting your attire. “Going hunting?”

“Foraging,” you corrected him, lifting the basket higher on your arms to accentuate your point. Your heart finally finds the confidence to look up into his intense gaze, swelling with both care and devotion. “I need to get some more fruits.”

At your admittance, Neteyam’s entire demeanour lights up at an opportunity beginning to present itself right in front of his very eyes - his ears stand high upon his head, eyes shining and tail elevated, anticipation peeking through his system. “I can get them for you if you want.”

You swoon at his eagerness to help you, the domestic part of Neteyam showing itself off to you. If it were any other time, you would’ve gladly took him up on the offer, loving the idea of spending more time with him despite truly believing your heart would explode if he continued to look at you like you were Ewya herself. But, you knew Neteyam was important to your clan, even before he was to become Olo’eyktan - you couldn’t keep him from his duties, from his purpose. 

(Neteyam would strongly argue that you were his purpose.)

“‘Teyam,” you start gently, hate having to turn him down when his features slowly start to fall. A sympathetic smile lingers against your lips, head tilted to the side but your eyes spoke more than your words could convey. “You have training with your father...” you find your eyes trailing your surroundings at your reminder, instantly spotting Jake in the near distance behind your future mate. He stands tall, proud, but you can tell he’s only moments away from calling his son out as he eyes him up, impatient. “...who is right over there and definitely does not want you to be late.” 

In an instant, Neteyam’s head shoots around to follow your gaze, a grumble slipping past his parted lips when he spots his father. Like a child, he hangs his head low in defeat, allowing it to fall against your shoulder when he turns back around. He lets his weight bear down on you teasingly, chuckling through his chest at your struggled attempts to stay steady on your feet. 

You pat his chest in mock sympathy, giggling to yourself as he only continues to be his dramatic self, head nestling closer into the space between your shoulder and neck. But, when he begins to press kisses against your skin, you tense up, feeling your spine straighten out and eyes look around for anyone watching. 

His father continues to glower at his eldest son, hands on his hips and shaking his head, obviously disgruntled. “Neteyam,” you warn, patting his chest again, a little harsher this time, more so in warning. Neteyam doesn’t seem to care, however, only continuing on his journey as he travels his lips from your shoulder to the crevasse of your neck. “’Teyam, your father-”

“Neteyam!” Jake’s voice is loud and clear, piercing through the clan until it makes its way to the two of you. In an instant, Neteyam jumps up and detaches himself from your shoulder. You look over his broad shoulder, seeing his father beginning to storm his way over. A harsh, fast-paced kiss is placed roughly against the side of your face, before you watch Neteyam run sheepishly over to his father, not wanting him to make a big scene. When your future mate arrives at his father’s side, the older Na’vi grabs his son against the back of the neck, forcefully pulling him further away from you before the guides of Ewya could will him back to you.

You can’t help but chuckle at their antics - the more time you spent with the Sully family, the more excited you felt at the prospect of finally being a part of them. Of course, they’d argue that you were already an honorary Sully, just from being betrothed to one of them, but you knew it’d be entirely different when you finally mated with Neteyam. 

Shaking your head, you noticed a few stares sent your way from the scene Neteyam had previously created before leaving you to deal with it. The only response you could give them without wanting the ground to swallow you whole was a sheepish smile, before securing your basket tight against your chest and running off into the forest.

The rest of the day went by quicker than you had imagined - you were simply so emerged in the beauty of the forest around you that time seemed infinite, like it was laying in the palm of your hands for you to do whatever you pleased with it. And, you did - you spent majority of your time marvelling at the pure life around you, the way everything seemed to pulse like it had its own heartbeat, and you liked to imagine that it did. After all, this was all apart of Ewya, too.

You had managed to collect a good amount of fruits, filling your basket almost to the top with a variety of tastes and colours to show off to your parents. Walking back into the clan, your chest swelled with pride at the few gratifying looks you were receiving from your collection, but you were also feeling proud of yourself for not having to use your weapon, either. Whether it was just your good intuition, or Ewya herself guiding you in a direction to ensure your safety, you steered clear of any potential threats that could’ve been lurking around the corner, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Either way, you were grateful you never ran into anything.

Arguably, you were a good hunter, someone who could hold their own if they needed to, but you weren’t entirely confident in your skills enough to fight off something bigger than you if its intentions were to kill you. You’d never had to fight against such a creature, thanks to adventuring out with others that knew what they were doing, or going to specific places you knew would be okay for you. Plus, there was something about killing the creatures of Pandora that didn’t sit right with you - after all, they were also children of Ewya. Of course, you understood the clan had to eat in order to survive, and if you were being attacked, no Na’vi would judge another if they needed to defend themselves or their family. That’s why you were always the one to volunteer to collect the fruits out of your family, enjoying that particular experience more. It also helped that you received offer’s from Neteyam’s family - and Neteyam, especially - to share the meat they had hunted. You could turn down the meats his family offered you, arguing that it was for them, but you couldn’t disagree with Neteyam - what’s mine is yours.

Nodding to another Na’vi who had done the same to you in a small gesture of congratulations, your cheeks hurting from the prideful smile against your lips, you hadn’t spotted the figure rushing to jog over to your moving figure until they stop at your side. You already know it’s Neteyam - not from the sight of him, but from the presence of him. His scent infiltrates your scenes immediately and his aura oozes itself around you, enshrouding you in a protective layer. 

How your knees haven’t buckled out from swooning will always be beyond you.

No words are able to leave your mouth before Neteyam takes the basket from your hands, relieving your lower back from the pressure it was previously feeling with the weight of the fruits. He holds it firmly in his grasp, matching your pace as he walks beside you, taking note of the amount you collected before his gaze lands on you. “How was it?” 

You don’t bother arguing against his wishes of holding the basket for you, knowing it would only be a losing battle if you tried. Instead, you allowed your heart to flutter wildly in your chest as it begged for release, wanting to cover Neteyam in all the love it had to offer. Your head tilts in affection as your features coo. “It was good - I managed to get quite a bit.”

He hums in acknowledgement, eyes hurriedly scanning over your figure from top to bottom. His gaze makes you feel warm, but you know he’s checking you over for any potential injuries. “You didn’t run into any trouble?”

“Nope,” you state proudly, beaming like a child would with a new accomplishment. “I’m too good at sneaking.”

A laugh tumbles from his stomach at your answer, embellishing in the way you proudly stand and tell him of your day’s achievements. This is what he’s always wanted - the two of you, talking about your day and everything in between, before finally coming back together to rest for the night. 

All he’s ever wanted was you.

With only one of his hands now holding onto your full basket, he brings his other up to grab hold of your arm, stopping you in your tracks. When you turn to face him, your smile slowly begins to fall from your lips at the seriousness in his gaze. Only when he cups your face in his larger palm do you soften, features lighting up once more. “You did well, my muntxa (mate).”

The nickname makes you bite your lips to stop you giving away your true feelings, but you know Neteyam, and you know he knows you inside and out, like you were his other half - because you were. Snuggling your face further into his palm, you stand higher on your toes, wanting to bring him closer despite the rapid beating of your heart. “Not yet...” you remind him.

He hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything more. Rather, he presses a light kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering there for a while longer, like he didn’t want to part from you in such an intimate way. As he stays there, his lips ghosting over your skin, he whispers an almost-inaudible soon. The implication makes you shudder in delight, feeling him separate away from you, now intertwining his hand in your own and gesturing his head for you to follow him. 

Soon.

Tonight was a normal night within the clan, although it somehow seemed more alive.

Every night, the people of the Omatikaya would come together to celebrate the day’s achievements, even if nothing too celebratory had happened. It brought a semblance of togetherness that you couldn’t get anywhere else - one you wouldn’t trade for the world. 

You could hear the hustle and bustle of many Na’vi even from the tent furthest away from the main area, your body filling with brimming excitement already at the prospect of everyone being there. You weren’t a huge fan of crowds, but growing older had taught you to appreciate such a feeling - these people were your family, after all, and with such an impending war knocking upon your doorstep too often than you were comfortable with, you learned to enjoy what you have already, before it was too late.

Training with the Tsahik had increased tenfold in the last couple of months - you were working from sunrise until sunset alongside Mo’at and Kiri, aiding them in their tasks and ensuring you were close to knowing everything off by heart. Eventually, you would be taking over, with Neteyam at your side as Olo’eyktan. It wasn’t long until the two of you would finally be mated before Ewya, and whilst it would still be a while until you stepped forward as leaders, there would always be more preparing to do. As a mated pair, the clan would slowly start looking to the two of you.

With such a pressure lingering upon your shoulders, you began to make your way through the main crowd, leaving behind your duties in their wake and allowing yourself a moment to breathe. There were Na’vi everywhere, no matter what direction your gaze trailed to; smiles adorning each face, tails high in elation and chatter loud in excitement. There was a large woven table to the side that held the hunting party’s food they had caught during that morning’s hunt, piles high of fruits and meats that had your stomach growling in anticipation. You hadn’t had time to eat much when training, your mind too focused on remembering every little detail shown before you.

But, you couldn’t help your own smile beginning to dawn upon your lips as you attempted to make your way past people at the sight of their happiness. For a moment, it almost felt like there wasn’t a raging war so close to home, ready to kill you all just to say they had won. 

You shook your head at such a thought, willing it away from your head and forcing yourself to enjoy the moment before you. There were several people you accidentally bumped into on the way past, your mind foggy as it searched for someone, but no one was too bothered, too caught up in the blissful atmosphere lingering within the air. 

Eyes trailing over every figure you came across, you struggled to spot a single Sully. You stepped higher onto the ends of your toes, head poking out over the tops of other’s heads in an attempt to locate them, but you kept coming up short. It was obvious they would be here, of course - they were the Sully family, the leaders of your clan, and if they didn’t make an appearance at just a regular gathering such at this one, you knew they’d be more panic around you.

Thankfully, before you could be swallowed by the crowd and lost to the world around you, a hand clasped itself securely within your own, fingers intertwining together. The feeling of his hand against yours caused your brain waves to kilter off edge, the rough but warm sensation of his palm meeting your own so similar to home. 

When you look up at him, Neteyam’s happiness is evident upon his features, grin broad and so unbelievably handsome-looking. Before you can get too caught up in him, him, him, he nods his head in the direction behind him, where you guess his family had set themselves up. He doesn’t take his hand away from your own, keeping a strong grip against you to ensure he doesn’t lose you, leading you through the crowd until you come up to his family.

They’re all already seated comfortably together, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk already eating away to their heart’s desires whilst Jake prepares the food for himself and his mate. Upon seeing your breathless figure, they greet you with smiles and nods in your direction, never surprised to see you with Neteyam anymore as they used to be. The bond between the two of you was only growing stronger as the days tilted by, the time dwindling down before you were mated and you truly became a Sully. His family were your family.

Neteyam’s arm is almost forcefully ripped away from your own when a much smaller body crashes into you. Tuk, in all her pure and giddy glory, has her arms wrapped strongly around the tops of your legs, her height not allowing her to go any higher. Her chin rests against your legs, looking up at you with her deer-like eyes and the biggest smile you have ever seen. The sight has you melting. 

“Hi, Tuk,” you greet her softly, bringing your hand up to gently caress the top of her head. She giggles at the sensation, lightly hopping up and down on her feet. Whilst you were definitely close with Neteyam’s family - more so Kiri, than anyone else, due to the amount of time you spend together - Tuk would always be your favourite. You looked to her like she was your little sister, and you hoped that one day she’d look at you like her older one. The idea of having someone as adorable as Tuk look up to you, feeling comfortable enough to come to you should she ever need to, was heart-warming. 

“Tuk!” Neytiri called, her tone harsh but understanding as she beckoned her youngest child back over to her, watching her bound away from you and back into her mother’s arms.  

You laugh quietly to yourself at the sight, finally making your way to the free seat next to Neteyam. When your comfortable enough, you go to reach over for the contents already splayed out before you, but a soft slap against the back of your hand has you recoiling away. Next to you, Neteyam reaches for everything you’d need, already beginning to do it for you.

He doesn’t look at you, although you know he can feel your gaze zoning in on his every movement - he’s too busy concentrating on making sure everything’s perfect for you, even if you are going to devour it just moments after receiving it. Your heart flutters like a swarming butterfly and you’re positive your cheeks are starting to redden as they blush. You don’t say anything to him, knowing it’s an argument you won’t be able to win - instead, you continue to watch with hearts evident within your eyes, a faint, loving smile present on your lips.  

It’s then you remember you’re not completely alone, too caught up in Neteyam. When you look up at the family surrounding you, you instantly spot his parents’ gazes already trained on the two of you - Neytiri’s expression is fond, whilst Jake’s is most definitely teasing.

Whether he can begin to sense your slight unease at being caught, you’re not sure, but Jake decides to speak up, hands moving subconsciously as he now starts to prepare his own food after giving the finished one to his mate. “So, y/n,” he starts, “how is Tsahik training going?”

You briefly look back over to Neteyam next to you, biting back a smile as you allow him to continue his work - his eyes are narrowed in on making everything flawless, making sure it’s exactly how you’d like it. Turning back to Jake, you offer him a nod, breathing out. “It is good - there are a few things I’m still struggling with, but the Tsahik believes I just need to continue with my training before I am able to do it with my eyes closed.”

Shrugging at the end of your admittance, you let out a sheepish laugh, almost a little embarrassed. Tsahik training is hard - no one ever said it was going to be easy, especially when you would be guiding the clan spiritually through Ewya, helping them heal and celebrate important ceremonies. But, you know you don’t have anything to be embarrassed by for several reasons - Neytiri understands from her brief time of training alongside her mother before mating with Jake, but this is also Neteyam’s family, your family, who have never once stopped to judge you for a single thing. In fact, you’re sure they’ve only ever supported you through the things you do, because now you’re as much they’re daughter as Kiri and Tuk.

“You will be an amazing Tsahik, y/n.” Neytiri speaks up, clearly noticing your hidden embarrassment and wanting to ease your worries. Tuk is still in her lap, happily chomping away at her food as her mother braids her hair. Her smile is doting, motherly. “The clan already loves you.”

The compliment from your mother-in-law only causes more embarrassment to flood through you, feeling yourself slowly begin to curl in on yourself. The love you were receiving not only from the family, but also from the rest of the clan, helped ease your tensions, but you never really took to taking such praise well. You appreciated it like any other Na’vi did, but sometimes you struggled to show a natural reaction, becoming slightly uncomfortable. That was something you would have to work on - the Tsahik couldn’t be embarrassed.

Your tail had previously nestled itself against your side when Neytiri complimented you, shying away from the attention, but it began to perk up suddenly when Neteyam lay a kind hand against your shoulder. His thumb was absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles against your skin - you didn’t know whether it was in his natural persona to do so, subconscious taking over, or whether he took notice of your change in demeanour, but either way, it calmed you. 

Looking at his other hand, you can see your prepared food, wrapped neatly together and gesturing for you to take it. With a grateful smile sent his way, you do so, speaking softly. “Thank you, ‘teyam.”

His grin is wide as he looks down at you. “You do not need to thank me, narlor (beautiful).” Heat passes over your cheeks when he calls you beautiful, the sincerity behind his eyes showing you how much he means it. You try your best to focus on your food when his attention doesn’t waver away from you, the warmth of his gaze piercing into your skin and making your entire being feel all tingly. Despite taking note of your attempt to shutter yourself away from him, taking a bite of the food and savouring every mouth-watering flavour it has to offer you, Neteyam is relentless - the same hand that was formerly rubbing against the top of your shoulder now snakes around the back of your neck, bringing you further into his side and pressing a tender kiss against the side of your temple. His lips linger hotly against your skin when he pulls away. “I would hunt down the most ravishing creatures and prepare the most delicious meals just for you, muntxate (wife).”

For a moment, you know nothing else but him - the way his eyes bore into yours completely, unseeing of anything else going on around you; the way his breaths steady with each one, like you bring a sense of calmness to his very being; the way his hand doesn’t move from its place against you, like doing so would cause him extreme pain. You’re sure you can feel your heart soar to the sky when he calls you his muntxate (wife), never wanting to hear him call you anything else ever again. You’ve been down the road before - Neteyam has been calling you his mate boldly as of late - but hearing him call you his wife, such domesticity has you feeling completely brand new, like you could conquer the world, face the most dangerous beast and win, just to come home and see him smiling at you like you hung the stars in the night sky. 

You’re scared it’s obvious that your tears are beginning to show against the line of your eyes, a nervous but oh-so adoring chuckle escaping your parted lips. Neteyam brings you foreheads together, the heat of his skin sending waves of the temperature into your own, his hand still clasped firmly against the back of your neck, and you notice his eyes never once falter from their stare into your own. There’s so much love, so much devotion and worship in his gaze, you can’t believe for just one brief moment in your past, you had thought Neteyam wouldn’t want you to call his own. It’s clear to you now that he’s only ever saw you.

So suddenly you’re brought out of your reverie when you hear a gagging sound coming from the direction of your other side. Reluctantly pulling away from Neteyam, you spot Lo’ak pretending to throw up the contents of his meal, no doubt having seen the intimate moment between his older brother and yourself. In any other instance, the embarrassment would be clawing away at you - and, you won’t deny the little semblance of it still making its way to the forefront - but the endearment you held for Neteyam in that moment, when you truly saw how much you meant to one another, overrides anything else. You laugh at your younger brother figure, looking up at Neteyam with nothing but comfort and passion in your eyes, watching as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at such dramatics. But, he doesn’t pull away - no, he keeps you closer.

Another sound is brought forward to your senses - this time it’s Neytiri, smacking the back of her youngest son’s head, her words a hushed scolding. You faintly hear her tell him that someday soon, that will be him and his own mate, but the voices drown out when your attention is pulled back to Neteyam. He’s not looking at you this time, rather he’s laughing at his brother’s grumbling of having to put up being like Neteyam, and as your eyes drown in everything he has to offer, you realise the whole world had started to disappear, until all you see is him.

After a long day spent with the younger Na’vi within your clan, you’re finally finding the time to slip away and relax. Your time had been filled up with helping teach the children different aspects that Pandora had to offer before they go their separate ways and start heavily training on what they wish to do in order to provide for the clan - whether that be foraging, hunting, healer, weaving... You and a few others had taken the children out into the forests, showing them the plants, the fauna, the creatures, the life that constantly emanated around them. 

This was arguably one of your most favourite things to do - teaching the children the way of Ewya was such a beautiful experience when you got to witness their eyes light up in awe, fascination cleaving at each and every one of them, wanting to know more, to explore more. Spending time with them made your heart grow fonder, the images conjuring in your mind of the day that yourself and Neteyam get to do such things with your own children. You’re still unsure as to how many you’d like, but you know that Neteyam would be the best father, without a shadow of a doubt.

Such thoughts stay lingering within the corners of your mind, unrelenting in their leave and it has the corners of your lips turning up in a subtle smirk. The walk from the tent you had just visited after dropping off the last child wasn’t such a distance from your own, and you couldn’t stop the sigh of relief breathing through you when you spotted it. Already, you were picturing yourself laying down in the comfort of your mat, eyes closed as the worries slowly start to slip away, your dreamland beginning to take to the forefront of you mind. 

Lately, your dreams had only been filled with Neteyam, and you wondered what else they’d have you thinking about that night. The time of your bonding with Neteyam was just around the corner now, on the precipice to being the next chapter in your life, and both nervousness and excitement filled your entire being. You wanted it to be special, you wanted to be everything Neteyam ever wanted in a mate, and that’s where your nerves started. But, the moment you thought of them, they were shut down by your excitement - you knew Neteyam, and with the way he had been treating you all this time was only further evidence to how much he cared about you. You truly didn’t have anything to worry about.

“Y/n!” Your name pierces through the clan, senses heightened when you recognise the voice, such a sound being the cause of your craned eyes and elevated tail, like they had a life of their own and were looking forward to seeing him, too. You stop in front of your tent, watching as Neteyam slowly jogs his way over to you, his hands hidden behind his back.

“Hi, ‘teyam,” you greet him, an affectionate smile playing against your lips.

He sends you one back, but this one falters a little towards the end, like he’s unsure of yourself. It has you feeling nervous again, but this time, the nerves are understandable - he’s beginning to fidget from foot to foot, nodding to himself as though he’s telling himself everything’s going to be okay. “Hey,” he replies, voice low and quiet, so unlike the Neteyam you’re used to. One of his hands points towards your tent behind you, still keeping the other one hidden away from your prying eyes. “Can we talk inside for a moment?”

Such words only make you feel worse, so many jumbled thoughts and suspicions bouncing from one side of your intrigued mind to the next, concocting different possible outcomes of what could be the source of his anxiety. You repeatedly tell yourself that it can’t be anything too damaging - after everything the two of you have been through together, even before finding out you were to be mated, it’s practically impossible to pull you apart, now. Without yet being mated, you know the two of you are bonded for life, and nothing can ever come in between that. Still, a small part of yourself feeds off his apprehension and you can’t help but wonder if going inside your tent with him will change the course of your life as you know it.

With a tense smile, trying your best to muster up the courage and pretend that he’s not worrying you, you nod, moving towards the entrance. Neteyam’s quick with his movements - instantly, the flap is pulled open for you, his hands holding back the fabric and allowing you to usher yourself inside. That’s a good sign, you tell yourself - if he’s treating you like this still, whatever he wants to talk about can’t be too bad, right? Unless he’s being a gentleman so the idea of tearing you down doesn’t seem as harsh.

You walk over to your mat, placing yourself down in a hurry, looking up at Neteyam and gesturing for him to do the same. He does so, and his body movements of sitting down opposite you are stiff, too. You notice his hand still firmly placed behind his back. Suddenly, the air feels uncomfortable, too much to bare as it continues to envelop you more, his worry stifling every one of your senses. Sucking in a breath, you let out a nervous laugh, hoping to ease the tension, wanting to get it over with in the chance it’s something bad. “’Teyam, you’re worrying me.”

As soon as you speak, he’s on alert - his head shoots up to you, finally able to properly look at you directly, his pupils blown wide. Tension steadily starts to dissipate from his figure, a brittle chuckle parting from his lips as he shakes his head slightly. “I’m sorry, I do not mean to worry you, it’s just...” he pauses, takes a big breath like he’s preparing himself for something monumental and steadies himself. “I made something for you.”

The strain of believing Neteyam was going to be telling you bad news disperses and it’s like it was never there in the first place. You feel your ears wiggle as they come to understand exactly what he said, your tail swaying back and forth in anticipation. “For me?”

He breathes out a soft laugh, eyes lighting up at how adorable you look to him. “Of course, am I courting someone else?”

It’s like the nervous Neteyam has completely disappeared, and finally you’re looking at the one you know and love - the Neteyam that is brave, and proud; the Neteyam that enjoys teasing you just to get a shy reaction out you; the Neteyam that can’t help but be sarcastic despite being a nervous wreck just moments beforehand. You hate the way he teases you, and yet you love it at the same time. You shake your head at his sarcasm, in slight disbelief at how he had managed to change his demeanour in the matter of a split second, a velvet-like giggle breaking out before you have the chance to force it back in. Now, he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

Slowly, with both precision and care, he moves his hand from behind his back, palm outstretched and showing off what he has to offer you. Your eyes land on a beautifully woven necklace, all different colours, shapes and sizes of beads and feathers and small intricacies tied all into place to make it perfect. It’s completely caught your attention, and you can’t seem to train your focus away from it. Subconsciously, your hand covers your mouth, smile wide and tears beginning to brim along your waterline. “Oh, ‘teyam. It’s beautiful.”

He brings himself closer to you, body shifting over until you’re now sat side by side, legs touching. He holds the necklace delicately in his hand still, bringing it further into the light to show it off, to show you how it looks in its true element. A beam plays at his lips now that he’s finally at ease, seeing the way you look so adoringly upon the object, so intense and ethereal it surely can’t be real. 

With a slight shake to his hand, he points to one of the beads, a watercolour blue that glistens when it shines perfectly against the light. “This bead is to represent when we first met - when you tripped and fell into the water.”

The memory comes back to you so quickly, it felt as though it happened just yesterday. You had been stood by the water, so close your toes were tipping in to the cool liquid, watching the fish as they swam in their habitat, blissfully happy and fascination clear on your features. Neteyam had unintentionally snuck up on you, scaring the life out of you as you fell into the water in surprise. Instantly, Neteyam felt bad, helping you out of the water and making sure you were fine, but as time went on, Neteyam loved to casually bring it up in conversation, if only to tease you.

You playfully smacked his arm, features recoiling before gasping out at his remark. “I did not trip - you scared me!”

He laughs, eyes imploring straight into yours, and you can see the hearts filled lovingly within them. Shaking his head, he bites back his smile, moving onto the next one, this one a darker brown, almost rusty in colour with different edges of tones. “This one is to represent the time when I started to help you with your bow.” As another memory filters through your mind’s eye, of two younger looking Na’vi practicing in the midst of the forest on how to correctly aim, you start to realise that this necklace your future mate had made for you is personal. He didn’t choose these specific ornaments just based on their beautiful colours or their variety of textures... he’d chosen them to portray each pleasing moment you had spent together, right from the very beginning. Your attention doesn’t falter, eyes trailing slowly from the necklace up to him, watching as he continues to talk through each one; so in his element, so in love. “This is a feather I found that looks similar to the colour of your ikran, and this one is supposed to represent when I asked to court you-”

You couldn’t help yourself - his voice was drowning in your ears, a ringing sensation taking over until silence deafened you and there was nothing else important in the world. Whilst he’s still speaking, you take his face gently within your grasp, holding onto both sides of his face, turning him to you and smashing your lips against his own. You kiss him passionately, as though it was the last one you may ever share together. It isn’t usually you who initiates moments like this one, but the more he spoke about every moment you shared together, concocting them and making them into something you’ll wear for the rest of your life proudly, all you wanted to do was show him how much the gesture meant to you, how much he meant to you.

When you eventually pull back, your lips linger against one another, breaths mingling together. You press another soft kiss to his lips, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing the apples of his cheeks. Looking up at him, you watch as his eyes start to open slowly, dazed, hazy, in love. A grin rests along your features at having been able to get him so drunk on you in such a way. “Nga yawne lu oer, Neteyam (I love you, Neteyam),” you breathe out, pecking his lips again, even lighter this time. “Oel ngati kameie (I see you).”

A vast smile is obvious upon his features now, uncontainable, but it wasn’t like he wanted to contain it anyway. For as long as the two of you were together, he’d show off all of himself to you, no matter the circumstance. Such a sight before you - all for you - has your heart fluttering. Neteyam presses his head impossibly closer to your own, trying his hardest for the two of you to become one, kneading his face against your own, wanting his scent to be all over you, for everyone to know that you belong to him. “You have no idea how much you mean to me, yawne (beloved), and how eager I am to finally be all yours.”

Your cheeks are hurting from how happy you appear, but there’s so much love being shared between the two of you, you simply don’t care. “And, I cannot wait to be yours, muntxa (mate).”

It’s the first time you’ve admittedly called him your mate - after all this time, it’s usually him to call you such a name. But, seeing him today, presenting you with a gift of such beautifully personal memories, you finally give into yourself. Even if it is still some time before the two of you mate as one before the eyes of Ewya, but all in all, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan will always be your mate. 

A laugh bubbles in the back of his throat at finally hearing you call him such a name, pearly fangs on full display as the two of you show off your eagerness to come together as one - of how much you care for one another, how much you yearn for one another.

You truly cannot wait to be all his, because there was no doubt in your mind that Neteyam was always the one for you.

taglist ;

@bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums​ @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr

[soobnny]

classmate au | nishimura riki

❝ did you guys see that? i was the one who taught her how to do that!❞

heeseung | jay | jake | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | NI-KI

nishimura riki….

the absolute menace that this boy is

The Class Clown

being seatmates with him is probably the worst decision you have ever made

not bc of him and his jokes !!!!!

no he’s very funny actually

he makes you laugh all the time

he just ALWAYS whispers the wrong answer to you during oral recitation

and you ALWAYS fall for it

“what is the second stage of cell division?”

“meiosis,” he’d whisper so confidently

“m…meiosis?” you ask more to him bc u know he’s wrong but the teacher hears you anyway 😭😭😭

he is just SOOOOO !!!! unbearable

also btw he calls u by ur last name

the type to be close friends with all the teachers

he’d just casually reply to them in class (ofc in a respectful enough manner)

always makes the class laugh

he’s always doing some shit honestly like just don’t try to understand him atp

he likes to switch with the person seated behind you sometimes so he can sit beside a close friend but ALSO so he can play with your hair

ni-ki will just do ANYTHING .. put your hair in poor braids, put it in a ponytail ltrly anything

he has started his own hair salon behind you

tells you not to fix your hair for the rest of the day

so yes you end up sporting his poorly styled ponytail where some strands are sticking out

also the type to draw on your arm

in the case that he doesn’t switch with the person behind you, he’ll just start drawing on your arm

ANYTHING absolutely anything

hearts … maybe even a dick im sorry he is a Man and he will start giggling to himself when he draws it on your forearm

tbh u just let him do it

it’s bc he looks so cute … like he’s so focused on your arm while you’re focused on your teacher

during those class seminars, he is STILL seated next to you

but you guys don’t listen to the speaker most of the time

he’ll have the 8ball app loaded on his phone and you guys will just silently play billiards on his phone

changes ur contact name to “sucks at 8ball”

when it’s his turn to make a move, you try and pay attention to the speaker

but then he nudges your arm to signal that it’s your turn and he hands you his phone so you can make a move

BTW idk how to explain this but the seats r like those in the movie theaters

imagine …. your arms on the same arm rest … side by side …. touching

he is actually so slick with it

unlike jake, you’ll often find him at the volleyball court instead of the basketball court

you enjoy sitting at the sides too

ur friends like playing so sometimes they’d play against riki or on the same team as him and you’d just watch as u wait for ur sibling to get u from school

or until you can commute back home with your friends

sometimes you’d join too

BUT only after telling them you’re bad at the sport over and over and over again and them telling you it’s ok over and over and over again too

you finally join in and play volleyball with them with the reassurance that they’re just playing for fun !!!!!!

honestly it’s so much fun but Menace Riki loves to target the ball in ur direction

(it’s so you can play too since most of the time … the ball doesn’t go in ur direction so ure just awkwardly standing in ur position 🧍‍♀️)

the next day, this mf drags u out of class HIMSELF to the direction of the volleyball court and teaches you how to set

“okay, hands above ur forehead, okay? 😒” and u’re just trying to take his directions

he’d be soooooo annoying when you set a ball properly for the first time too

would ltrly turn to everyone in the court with his loud mouth and start praising you

“hey, did you guys see that?? i taught her how to do that !!! i’m her mentor”

ofc it becomes something about Him instead but it’s just cuz he can’t risk everyone knowing about his big fat crush on you

(sucks to be him bc everyone already knows like … have you seen the way he looks at you?)

he’s secretly so proud and plays volleyball with you to the side instead of playing an actual match

it’s to help you improve

bc he’s your self-proclaimed mentor 🥹

and when his friends drag him to play, he’ll insist you play too on the same team as him

you know how like .. one touch .. two touch .. volleyball is until three right?

ni-ki loves to set the ball or toss it to you so you can actually play too

your hype boy 😍😍😍😍

another funny story with this boy was when you and your friend were on your way to go home

and it started raining

ni-ki’s bff and ur bff r dating ok !!!

so naturally, his best friend leaves his side to shade his gf (ur bff) with an umbrella

now u’re left behind with riki

u do NOT expect him to grab his umbrella, open it up, and tell you to start walking with u

shields you so now you’re following behind ur dating bffs

honestly it’s actually kind of a cute memory

sharing an umbrella .. so romantic 🥰

ofc ur friends tease u !!! those who witnessed it happen and when u and ur friend r safely sheltered from the rain,, riki’s bff starts pushing him and teasing him for finally making a move

the direction ni-ki needs to go to isn’t even where he had walked u to but he still did it so you wouldn’t get sick

ANYWAYS he’s the teasing to get ur attention when he has a crush type so

good luck

expect him to always be up in your business and calling your name out

just embarrassing you in all possible ways

ALL GOOD INTENTIONS i swear

he’s just bad at expressing his feelings

u guys r just an old married couple bickering in class sometimes

your classmates start making bets on when you two will finally start dating

when he finally asks you out, his cocky teasing behavior is just thrown out the window

he stutters and scratches the back of his head and looks anywhere but to you

indirectly asks you out

“wanna eat um street foods after class?”

“who’s coming with,” you’d ask

“JUST ME… just me. just us…”

ltrly something as simple as that has him blushing all over 😭

he has no problem embarrassing u and drawing dicks on ur arms and calling ur name in the hallway and throwing an arm around ur shoulder

but the moment he asks u to eat out with him ?? even just for street food ?? bye he’s so shy and nervous

it’s SOOOO unlike him

“oh, sure!”

his eyes would light up please stop

then his cocky behavior would come back a little .. just enough to be tsundere as he is

“okay… don’t think i wanna hangout with you alone or anything. it’s just a treat for properly setting last time we played vb”

likeeee no one believes you ni-ki

the last time u played vb was like two weeks ago so why r u suddenly treating NOW

it’s actually so cute when u start dating

he has such a Soft Spot for u

LOVES annoying u but is secretly so doting like please

i hate happy couples !!!!!!!!!

i hope u guys r HAPPY <3

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[pettyprocrastination]

thinking about how as Aemond’s wife you are the model of perfection. 

Your back is straight as you curtsy when you first meet him and hair neatly braided with fine jewels. Your voice is even and never waivers as you speak to him of your family and how grateful they are for this union. 

You are intelligent and beautiful, the perfect wife. 

It’s why Aemond hardly ever spends time with you. 

He bears no ill will toward you, of course. There is no resentment or hatred to his lady wife, but there are no fond feelings either. 

He knows of courting and romance, his mother taught him everything from a young age. The poor woman would hold her son’s hands tight and explain that a man must not only respect his wife, but truly cherish her. Love her in the eyes of gods and men. As he grew older he noticed the way his father would wave off her constant advice and concerns until the dreaded night where she was the only one defending him after he lost his eye.

But practice was one thing. When you were nothing but a concept. A figment of Aemond’s imagination when he was ten and marriage was only spoken of during his lessons. Before he lost his eye. Before he heard the ladies of the court whispering about his mutilation and before he watched a whore flinch at the sight of his scarring when Aegon dragged him to a brothel on his thirteenth name day. 

He learned then that no matter how much he would love and worship his wife, it would not be returned. 

Rather than attempt to force it (he was no brute and had no intentions of doing something so cruel) he simply let you be by yourself. 

Yes you were married. You sat by one another at every meal and formal event and on the rare occasion he would even ask for your hand in a dance. But Aemond’s affections toward you were few and far to find. 

But there were moments. 

Where his icy facade would weaken and you found yourself able to slip through the cracks. 

Alicent had told you of his “moments” when the engagement had been announced. The queen herself taking you by the hand as you walked through the garden and explaining gently of Aemond’s condition. 

“There are times where he feels a great deal of pain because of the-” She paused, chewing on her cheek while trying to find the most inoffensive way to describe the tragedy that befell her son. “-incident he had as a child.” 

You knew enough of it. Many rumors flew through court the day Aemond targaryen walked in with a patch on his eye after Laenor Velaryan’s funeral at driftmark. Some day it was from a sparring incident, others say it was a mark he bore from the first time he mounted the mighty vhaegar. Others say that the Rouge Prince Daemon Targaryen himself gave it to his younger cousin after crude words were exchanged behind closed doors. 

You didn’t know what was the truth. Aside from the day the princeling got his scar, was the same he got his dragon.

A fair trade, some would say. 

But they didn’t live with the attacks he did. 

Nerve damage, is what the maester’s called it when you asked them for more information. His wound may have healed years prior but the prince would continue to live his life with constant bouts of mind-numbing pain brought on by the slightest touch or too sharp of a wind to his cheek. 

“Senseless fits.” Aegon called it. When he heard about your curiosity about his brother’s condition he had all but cornered you late at night in the hall. “Anything will set him off and send him throwing a tantrum like a belligerent child. It’s quite entertaining.” 

But there’s a moment where the elder brother frowns and you see a shred of concern in his eyes. 

“He doesn’t like to be touched during those moments. It makes the pain worse. So if you’re trying to find some way to comfort him I’d recommend you do something else.” 

What was ‘something else’ you learned, was simply being there. 

Sitting by his side when he curled into himself, trembling fingers reaching out to grab yours and not complaining when his nails dig into the palm of your hand as he cries out in pain. When his breath evens out and the pain subsides, he crawls to you and presses his face to the crook of your neck. He’s far too tired to cover the gnarled scar covering the side of his face but you show no fear or disgust at the sight of it. Your fingers run through his hair, gently combing back the silver tresses and ignoring the tears that stain the shoulder of your gown. 

The next morning your husband would wake in your arms and takes a moment to watch your peaceful expression and the way the morning sun kisses your skin. 

That day Alicent notices her son sits closer to you at breakfast, speaking softly to you of something she cannot understand. But when she sees his hand reach out and grasp yours, she smiles. 

[madnessreruns]

Would it be possible to request headcanons for arkhamverse selina, Ivy and Harley falling for Bruce Wayne’s sister :)

Arkhamverse Girls x Fem! Reader being Bruce Wayne’s sister

Harley Quinn x reader, Pamela Isley x Reader, and Selina Kyle x Reader - All Seperate

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Harley Quinn

Uh oh. Destruction time. I mean that can be said for any situation with Harley but especially now.

Expect lots of unexpected visits and party crashes from her, especially post! city. Sometimes she’ll just show up and be like hey ^•^!!!!

Since she’s, you know. A criminal. It’s kind of off putting how used to her you get after the first like, two break ins. You’ll stroll up to the manor and she kinda just pops out of no where. There’s always an extra plate made cause she’ll just walk in, say she loves you, eat your food, pet your animals, and leave. And you love her for it.

Every now and then there’s a routinely kidnapping. Cause you know. Crime. She doesn’t hurt you or anything, she just kinda hangs around, maybe gets you dinner. You know, the works.

She’ll definitely get on the other rogues when they target you. But it’s completely fine when she robs your place of work, with sparkly little eyes beaming when she sees you. She claims it was 100% a coincidence, but her goofy grin as giggles give her planning away.

There will times where people are like “S/O!!! Why are you spending time!!! With a well known criminal!!!” And your just like. “Criminal? No this is my baby. Her name is Harley. She’s never done anything wrong in her life.” And their like “S/O she’s covered in blood”. “So what?”

She’s also the equivalent of those small little mean dogs. You know the stereotypical little chihuahua. Little mean little bitch. She’s not a little bitch, she can be a bit mean to others though. She doesn’t mean it, she just doesn’t like it when people are being rude about you. You tell her she can’t shoot people cause they don’t like you. She begs to differ.

She’ll hang out with you before any of your public outings. Putting makeup on before a gala? She brought the perfect lipstick for you!Yes what are you saying, she bought it 100% legally she doesn’t know what your talking about.. stealing???? Noo she could never. Just shut up and put it on.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Pamela Isley

Angry >:(

She absolutely HATES your brother. She hate hate HATES HIM. The amount of harm his stupid company does to the environment is going to make her bite someone. Not you she promises. She fully acknowledges you have no say in the company and don’t even have any relations to the company. Except for your brother. She’s amazed that someone as beautiful and sweet as you can be related to someone so horrid and disgusting.

She’ll send you roses with little notes attached to it. Of course they aren’t poison. The ones she sent your brother though, she can’t say the same.

Again, lots of unexpected visits. But not to your house specifically, to your bedroom alone. You’ll walk back in and she’ll be sitting herself in front of your vanity mirror fixing her hair, or fumbling through your bookshelf, or trying on clothes from your closet and drawers. She’s always hard to say no to. She’s so nice and sweet to you, and she’s so gorgeous. You have trouble telling her to get out.

She’ll take you out to a very public places. She likes to flaunt the fact you spend time with her, and not anyone else. Her jealousy kicks to 900% very easily, especially when it’s a man trying to make advances on you.

She has a habit of leaving small marks on you, even if you don’t notice. Your lips are tinted green from her toxins, small hidden hickeys placed on your neck, flowers she grew decorating your dress, or braiding your hair with roses decorating it. Or maybe you smell particularly floral today. Must just be a new perfume hm?

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Selina Kyle

Okay so, she’s the one that most likely knows your brother’s identity. So it’s a bit embarrassing when she realizes that the sister of the man she was trying to court was 10% hotter then he was.

She actually doesn’t break into your house uninvited. She sits outside your window and asks very politely to come in, kinda like a vampire. But instead of biting you to drink your blood she bites you cause she’s weird like that.

She also has a habit of trying to steal something from your manor. You’ll catch her in the middle of the night in the middle of your house, you just tell her to take what she wants and leave. But when she says she wants you, you just roll your eyes and go back to bed. But you said she could have anything she wanted :(

Please take her to galas and events as your date. She’ll act like it’s nothing but inside she’s crying she so happy. She loves to be with you in public especially. She doesn’t know why, she just does.

Except many very legally obtained gifts. Ignore the height in robberies of jewelry stores, but enjoy this gorgeous necklace she found for you. I mean bought. She means she bought it. She bought it with money it was a legal transaction.

If you give her gifts back she will act like it’s nothing, she could just steal this easily. But it honestly means the world to her.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

[neteyamslovrr]

40 for fluff with Lo'ak my little skrunkle pookie wookie spoinkle?? 😞😞

TEASE

summary: another installment of my 2k event!! for the pookiest lo'ak

Lo’ak loved to tease you. It was a habit from when he was younger that grew up with him even as you both started dating. Whether he poked at your sides to made you laugh, made you laugh in very serious times, or teased the way you acted around him. He was just a tease.

It was fun for him, seeing you blush when he would tickle you, your laughs growing loud as you tried to grab onto his hands. It made his heart flutter the way your eyes would soften when you would catch a glimpse of him or you would always go to stare at him getting flustered when he was already staring straight at you.

Today was just like that. He was headed to your family’s tent, hoping to take you on a flight through the mountains. Something you two have made habit.

Reaching the door he opened it carefully to see your mother sitting inside weaving a new top. “Morning Ma’am.” He was always polite to your parents (who wouldn’t be polite to the parents of the woman they were courting.)

“Oh! Hello Lo’ak. How many times have I said you don’t have to call me Ma’am.” Lo’ak shrugged a grin on his face.

“Next time I won’t…um where is Y/N by the way?” Your mother had a grin on her face, she knew how much you fancied Lo’ak, and it was obvious the feelings were mutual.

“She’ll be back soon, she is getting some more material for me.”  

“I see. I’ll just wait outside then.”

“Oh stay in here and pass me those.” She pointed to bowl full of decorative beads.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Lo’ak.”

“Sorry.” He mumbled out, hoping that you would enter the tent any second now. He fiddled with his pinkie, twisting the extra digit as he longingly stared at the entryway.

Luckily you were just outside, carrying a basket of materials on your hip as you entered your home. “Oh! Lo’ak you’re here.”

“Hey.” Your mother snorted at him earning a glare from you. He rose to his feet ready to get out of the tent immediately. Putting down the basket you moved your head telling him to walk outside.

“Lo’ak and I will be back later. Bye Sa’nok!” You waved your mother goodbye and raced out to Lo’ak as he smirked down at you. “You came early.”

“Wanted to see you baby.” Where was his confidence coming from? Oh my Eywa you were going to kill him if you didn’t experience heart palpations first.

“Shut up! You are so annoying.” Lo’ak did a mocking pout as he grabbed your wrist and headed towards the ikrans.

“You love it.”

“Not at all. You’re lucky I’m still flying with you.” Lo’ak gave you a light flick before he mounted his ikran. You followed mounting yours as you took off. The rush of wind blowing your braided hair majestically. Lo’ak flew beside you, and he couldn’t take his eyes of you. You were so beautiful.

Lo’ak nudged his ikran next to yours with a laugh as your ikran flew above him in retaliation. “Are you challenging me?” He shouted out to you.

“There is no challenge!” You saw his face drop in disbelief. Then there it was, a flicker of mischief in his eyes. He smirked as he made his ikran do a flip over you, reaching his arm out to mess up your hair before he flew right over. “Lo’ak!”

“There is no challenge.” He mocked your voice as he did talking motions with his hands. You scoffed at him as you continued to fly, weaving through the large floating mountains following Lo’ak’s path.

He was planning to take you to a new place he found last week. It wad beautiful covered in purple flowers and a small pond that had small creatures in it. He knew you would like it, he was confident on it.

Landing at the destination he got off his ikran and made his way to you. A habit he had made was to always help you off your ikran because one you fell off it. He stills makes fun of you about it though.

“Come on you are so slow!” Lo’ak groaned as he walked through the foliage. You followed behind him watching the way he would take every step carefully to make sure the step was safe for you as well. He held a branch out of your way as you walked ahead of him.

You saw the beautiful field in front of you. Luminescent flowers creating a purple hue that reflected onto your beautiful face. “Oh Lo’ak it’s so pretty here.”

“Like you.” You covered your face as it heated up, the compliment making your heart feel as if it had burst out of your chest. “Nah don’t cover that pretty face. Are you blushing?”

“No. Shut up.”

“You so are. You suck at hiding it.” Lo’ak laughed as he stood next to you slinging an arm over your shoulders.

“Be quiet and enjoy the scenery.” You pushed him lightly to tease him as he squeezed you tighter in his arms.

“The scenery is right here baby.”

[stiltonbasket]

For wen!wwx: "I may have made a mistake in taking you to Nightless City, A-Ying" were the last words Wen-shushu had spoken to him, a little more than a fortnight after he was slain in battle. Contrary to popular belief, it was Wen Zhuliu who saved A-Ying and took him to Nightless City. Wen Rouhan raised him to be a weapon, but Wen Zhuliu raised him as a son.

(link to part 1)

By the winter Wei Wuxian turned thirty-six, Qishan Wen had been at war for two years; but in those two years, very little had changed behind the walls of the Nightless City.

The wine ran as freely as it always did, and even the lowest-ranking guest disciples were allotted more treasures and fine foods than most well-to-do commoners would see in a year. The rare few of the clan who had spent time in the halls of the mortal emperor—Wei Wuxian among them, for his master wanted the emperor to know something of the raw power that lurked in Qishan, in case he ever thought of claiming even an inch of Wen territory for his own—were aware Wen Ruohan's sect banquets were far richer than anything the imperial court had to offer: and even if the war were to last another decade, the cities clustered around the great Sun Palace in Bu Ye Tian would flow with gold for ten times that span at the least.

Strength counted for much in the Jianghu, and for a great deal more outside it—and Wen Ruohan treasured the cultivators who labored for him as he treasured his own saber, so long as their younger selves had proved loyal enough to be permitted to reach adulthood.

Of the four children Wen Zhuliu brought back to Bu Ye Tian some thirty-odd years ago, only one had achieved that honor: the youngest, Wei Ying, plucked from the streets in upper Yiling some months before his fifth birthday.

He had grown up well, Wen Zhuliu thought, as he watched Wei Wuxian move across the banquet hall with a double-eared wine cup in his hand. The handmaidens at the Wei-fu had braided his hair with gold, so that the full, shining mass of it reflected the light from the lamps on the walls like a mirror; and though Wen Ruohan recalled him from Langya nearly six months ago now, he had not yet lost the watchful bearing of a general waiting under cover of darkness for his enemy to strike.

"Zhao-shushu," he said, toasting him with his half-empty cup of wine as Wen Zhuliu drew closer. "How have you been? I haven't seen you since..."

"It's been nearly a year, I think," Wen Zhuliu replied, inclining his head. "When we were stationed together in Jiangling."

A shadow crossed Wei Wuxian's face; and too late, Wen Zhuliu remembered that Jiangling was where his erstwhile ward bore witness to the execution of Yu Hengshan, in spite of Wen Zhuliu's best efforts to ensure that he was occupied elsewhere at the hour of Yu Hengshan's death.

He was absurdly soft-hearted for a man who had spent the last two years between war fronts and Wen Ruohan's great strategy chamber, and it discomfited Wen Zhuliu immensely.

"How is A-Yuan?" he said softly, for Wei Wuxian's yang son was one of the few subjects they could speak of without stirring the dreadful shuttered look in Wei Wuxian's eyes—though that had been present in some form or other from the day he was sworn into Wen Ruohan's service, and would likely never leave him throughout the remainder of his life.

"He is well," Wei Wuxian answered, nodding towards the artificial stream carved into the ground of the garden adjoining the feasting hall. Wen Zhuliu turned and saw a gaggle of youths and young girls kneeling by the water's edge, scribbling verses of poetry onto plain white lanterns; and then, following the line of his ward's outstretched hand, he saw that the boy at the front of the group looked like a smaller, light-hearted version of Wei Ying.

"How old is he?"

"Eighteen." Wei Wuxian's hand tightened around the base of his cup. "He's nearly old enough to wear a proper guan, if you can believe it."

Ah, Wen Zhuliu realized, with no small amount of pity—for if the war did not end within these next two years, Wen Yuan would be among the new soldiers sent to war, perhaps as part of his own father's regiment.

He reached out and grasped Wei Wuxian's arm.

"A-Ying," he said urgently. "This war will not last long enough to draw your A-Yuan into it. You know Lanling Jin cannot endure for much longer, what with Meng Yao—and once Lanling falls, Yunmeng will crumble soon after. Yu Hengshan was Yunmeng Jiang's greatest backer, and now that he has been slain—"

"Yes, but what then?"

Wen Zhuliu paused, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Once the Jianghu has been brought under our colors, what then?" Wei Wuxian murmured, before taking a long drink of wine. "The Jin might live peacefully under Junshang's rule—they will have no choice, for they are not strong enough to do otherwise—but the Jiang will abandon their clan seat if needs must, and flee to rebuild elsewhere. And once they rise to prominence again, what will our lord do next?"

And what will you do? his eyes seemed to say; and though Wen Zhuliu had vowed to murder Yu Hengshan when he was a child of sixteen, his ears were suddenly filled with the screams of the civilian woman who had discovered the man's decapitated corpse in a rowboat on Lake Lianhua.

He had not lingered long enough to listen to the screams of Yu Hengshan's sister, for fear that his heart would break at the knowledge that Yu Ziyuan grieved this brother of hers despite all he had done to them both—but now, the echoes of her cries were so clear in his mind that he was half-convinced he had heard them in truth, all those months ago.

"I will do whatever Wen-zongzhu commands me to do," Wen Zhuliu said at last. "I was sworn to him for life, just as you were."

In answer, the fingers of Wei Wuxian's right hand rose and fluttered restlessly over his shoulder: the left shoulder, where his wide collar hid the set of obedience sigils that Wen Ruohan carved into his flesh on the day he came of age.

"Yes," he whispered, his gaze straying once more to his son. "I am sworn to him for life—just as you are."

They parted not long after that, for Wen Zhuliu had only come back to the Nightless City for Wei Wuxian's birthday banquet, and he was due to return to Hejian early the next day. He had other generals to greet, and Wei Wuxian had gone off to judge the results of the winding-stream contest taking place in the garden; but shortly before dawn, Wen Zhuliu sought Wei Wuxian out once again and drew the younger man into his arms.

"Happy birthday," he said. "May you have ten lifetimes' worth of them, my child."

Wei Wuxian smiled tearfully—and suddenly, Wen Zhuliu was certain that after tonight, he would never lay eyes on this ward of his again.

"I wish it had not been like this," he blurted. "If I had not brought you back to the Nightless City all those years ago, then perhaps..."

Wei Wuxian's eyes flickered toward the throne at the front of the hall.

"What other purpose could I have served than this one?" he said quietly. "You had your revenge, and I was given the honor of serving Junshang. That is the end of it."

And with that, he kissed Wen Zhuliu on the brow, and vanished into the night.

Wen Zhuliu never did see him again, for he met his death on the Hejian front within the next fortnight; and when his jian was brought back to the Bu Ye Tian, it was sent to Wei Wuxian's residence, the High General's manor, where it would remain until the Wei-fu went up in flames with its master still locked inside it.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter xix – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 4,700+

masterlist

After the meeting of the High Lords, Y/N didn’t see Eris for quite some time. He was bogged down with his duties. And Y/N could only assume he was barely eating or sleeping with the amount of work he was dealing with. Her stomach sank at the idea of Eris not taking care of himself. Someone needed to make sure he was doing both of those things. 

However, Y/N’s usual schedule of breakfast, training, and library continued. 

But on this morning, Lucien came to her after training. 

“Would you like to go riding with me?” He asked as Y/N drank water. 

The Weapons Master had already exited the training grounds, leaving her exhausted and alone. Well, not really alone. For she had two of the smoke hounds as her guards and company still.

They now eyed Lucien wearily, not appreciating how close he was getting to their master's mate. 

But Y/N’s eyes beamed with the question. “Really?” 

Lucien tried not to tease her for being so excited. In actuality, he felt guilty for such a simple thing clearly bringing her such joy. If he had known that, he would’ve asked long ago. 

He studied her current state. “Yes, really. Perhaps you would like to change before doing so?”

Y/N looked down at herself. She was covered in mud and dirt. And what couldn’t be seen, but surely smelt, was the sweat she’d released from all her training. There was even a few cuts and scrapes across her hands and arms from little nicks she’d received while sparring. 

“Yes, perhaps I should clean myself up first…” Y/N mumbled as her face got hot with embarrassment. 

Half an hour later, Y/N appeared from her bedchambers freshly bathed. Her hair was still wet, but braided. And she wore a riding outfit that Lucien was sure the handmaidens had helped her pick out. 

“S-Sorry to keep you waiting,” Y/N quickly muttered, only able to look at the ground as she shut her bedchamber door behind her. 

“It wasn’t long at all,” Lucien tried to tell her. 

They hurried to the stables, which Y/N had no complaint about.

Two horses were already saddled and waiting for them when they reached the royal barn. A stableboy had both reigns in his hands. 

“What’s this?” Lucien asked, pointing to a bow and quiver of arrows strapped to one of the saddles. 

The stableboy seemed embarrassed and wouldn't look Lucien in the eye when he answered. “The High Lord demanded that Lady Y/N never go on horseback without at least two weapons on her saddle. I am just following orders, my lord.” 

Y/N smirked and stepped toward the horse that was now very obviously hers. It was a stark white gelding, covered in muscles, but held a kindness in his eyes as he greeted Y/N. 

“What’s his name?” Y/N asked the stableboy. 

“Aengus, my lady.” 

“Aengus,” Y/N muttered to the horse with a smile as she softly stroked his face. 

The stableboy cleared his throat awkwardly. “The High Lord also stated that Lady Y/N is not to leave the estate without an escort.” 

“And what am I then?” Lucien snapped. 

Y/N chuckled as she easily lifted into the saddle. “Lucien, don’t start.” Then she turned to the stableboy. “That is fine. But may they remain behind us?”

The stableboy looked relieved at having her support. “Yes, Lady Y/N. Only five will be joining you. They will meet you at the gates.” 

“And what is your name?” Y/N asked sweetly. 

“Cian, Lady Y/N.”

“Thank you, Cian. We will be seeing much more of each other now. Perhaps I can help you brush the horses after we return.” 

He smiled and bowed his head. “Of course, Lady Y/N.” 

She leaned down to stroke Aengus’ neck. “Ready for some fun?” She whispered. 

The white gelding neighed happily and stomped his feet, proving just how ready he was. 

Y/N turned to Lucien, “They will learn quickly that they need to keep up.”

And then she whistled, signaling Aengus to make his escape. The horse quickly jolted into a gallop out of the gates.

It only took Lucien a second or two to follow, but even that made him fall far behind. 

He hoped Eris didn’t hear about this little stunt, because it would be him that he reprimanded. Cauldron knew Eris would never scold Y/N for anything. Lucien couldn’t even imagine his brother so much as slightly raising his voice at his beloved mate. 

——

Y/N looked to the right to see one of their Autumn guards 50 yards or so off to the side of them. A guard was placed the same distance in all directions of them, putting her and Lucien in their perimeter of safety. If anyone sought to hurt them, they’d have to go through one of the guards before ever reaching them. 

Y/N and Lucien slowed their horses to a brisk walk. 

“How did you know I would want to go on a ride?” She asked. 

Lucien smirked. “Eris said you love horses.” 

“I said that to him once, in passing, when he was still but a stranger.” Y/N shook her head. “Yet he remembers all my words as if they hold such weight.” 

“Because they do,” Lucien countered. 

Y/N ignored him. 

“You know, if you let him get to know you more, he could remember more than just the things you say in passing…”

Y/N’s head whipped around to glare him. “Really? You of all people want to make such comments to me? You flee from your mate every chance you get.” 

“That is not fair and you know it, Y/N. I tried with Elaine more times than I can count – far before you ever joined our ranks, might I add. She wants nothing with me.” 

“And perhaps that is her right,” Y/N growled. 

Lucien cocked an eyebrow. “That wasn’t your tune when you were unaware of having your own mate…” 

Y/N halted her horse to glare into his eyes. 

And he couldn’t help but feel guilty when she did it. 

“Stay out of it, Lucien.” She grumbled before whistling, signaling Aengus into a gallop back to the Forest House. 

Their fun had been ruined, all thanks to Lucien.

The guards quickly followed after her, not bothering to make sure Lucien was with them. But he already knew they weren’t there for him anyway. 

——

Y/N cantered through the gates of the estate and up to the Forest House to find that Eris was saddling his own horse.

And there were nearly thirty sentries already mounted and waiting for their High Lord. 

Eris immediately turned when she halted Aengus just a few yards from him. 

“Where are you off to?” Y/N asked through heavy breaths. She’d pushed Aengus to his highest speed as she’d made her escape from Lucien. 

“Visiting the surrounding villages,” Eris answered. 

Then Y/N’s guards caught up. The High Lord glared at them, noting how they let his mate get away from them. It was obvious that would be discussed when Y/N was out of earshot. 

“May I come?” Y/N blurted out before she could stop herself. 

Eris blinked, evidently taken aback by her request. 

“I promise I will keep to myself,” she added quickly, as if her very presence would be a burden to him. 

Eris frowned, not at her, but at the idea that she could ever see herself as such a burden. “That will not be necessary. You may join me, if that really is your wish. Though I worry the day will bore you…” 

Y/N beamed at his admission. “Oh, I would never find it boring! I have been wanting to see the villages of Autumn. I have read so much about them!” 

Eris tilted his head. “Read?”

But before she could answer or mentally scold herself for saying too much, Lucien came galloping over to them. 

“You are supposed to stay with her,” Eris growled. 

“You try keeping up with her,” his youngest brother shot back with exasperation. “Cauldron, she rides like the wind.” 

But Y/N ignored him, acting as if he weren't even there. And of course Eris caught it.

He ignored his youngest brother as he mounted. “We must leave now to make it back before dark.” 

Lucien glanced back and forth between his brother and Y/N. “She’s going with you?” 

“Yes,” Eris answered with boredom in his tone. “And you are staying here.” 

If his mate was annoyed with his brother, then he would choose her side.

Lucien scoffed. But rode back towards the royal stables. Clearly he didn’t wish to accompany them that badly, for he didn’t even put up a fight. 

“Is this some trick?” Eris asked Y/N quietly, so no one else could hear. “Do you intend to make your escape?

Y/N smiled and leaned toward him. “Guess you will have to wait and see.” 

—

The Forest House was now just a small structure in the distance behind them. Y/N watched it get smaller and smaller before turning back to Eris. 

He wouldn’t leave her side since they left the estate, choosing to ride right alongside her. 

“May I ask perhaps a silly question?” She asked. 

Eris nodded. 

“Why do we not just…winnow to the village?” 

He smirked at her. “It is a fair question. But there are many who reside between the Forest House and Falanaird. I wish to see how even the smallest homes are fairing.” 

Then his smirk grew to a full smile that was almost mischievous. “Besides, the village would be in a panic if their new High Lord appeared before them out of nowhere. I thought it would be better to give them a fair warning of my arrival. By the time we are a few miles out, someone will have alerted them of my presence.” 

Y/N grinned at him. “We are going to Falanaird. I have heard it is quite beautiful…”

Eris narrowed his eyes. “How do you know of Falanaird, little witch?”  

Y/N felt her face heat at his pet name for her. If anyone else used it, she was sure it would irritate her. But coming from him, it only felt sweet. 

But she remained quiet. 

Eris persisted. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your reading you mentioned, would it?”

“I have been reading about the histories of Autumn Court,” Y/N finally admitted quietly. “After training, I go to one of the libraries and read.” 

“What for?” Eris asked.

Y/N laughed. “To learn about your home, of course. Why else?” 

Before Eris could fully let that settle in, she sat up straighter in her saddle and pointed in the distance. “Look!” When he followed her gaze, she was pointing to two small fae children who were standing at the gate of their little cottage, staring at the High Lord’s traveling company with mesmerized expressions

When Eris locked eyes with them, they gasped in fear and ducked behind the fence. 

“They are only little ones,” Y/N scolded when she saw that Eris had a dark look. “There’s no need to intimidate them.” 

Eris blinked, realizing it was a habit that had been ingrained in him for centuries to intimidate any and all who looked upon him. 

But he knew Y/N was right. What good would it be, having children fear him? 

The High Lord let out a sharp whistle, and the entire company came to a halt. 

He jumped off his horse and moved to a small wagon that had been trailing in the back. His reached into a basket. When his hand reappeared, Y/N realized he had grabbed two cookies from what she now realized was a wagon full of food. 

Eris walked to the edge of the fence where the two young ones were hiding on the other side. 

They slowly peaked over it when they heard his approach. 

“No need to fear,” Y/N heard Eris mutter to them. “We are only passing through.” 

With slow hands, each of them reached out to take his offering. And their eyes lit up when they realized what he was handing them. 

They screeched, “Thank you!” And then ran off in a fit of giggles, surely to eat their cookies before their parents could find out and reprimand them. 

Eris then returned to his horse as if nothing happened. And the company continued without questioning or even looking quizzically at their High Lord. 

But Y/N wasn’t going to let it go unnoticed. “I like when you let others see your kindness, Eris.” 

He refused to look at her as he responded with, “I only did it because you went out of your way to guilt me…”

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes. Of course.”

—

They finally reached Falanaird about an hour later. 

Someone had clearly done as Eris suspected, and warned the entire city of their High Lord’s surprise visit. 

Y/N saw the tension fill Eris’ entire posture as everyone stared. He couldn’t sit any straighter in his saddle. She could see his internal struggle of trying to figure if he should be stern and cold as their leader or break the cycle and lead with kindness and integrity. 

They stopped to dismount. 

“Hold your arm out,” Y/N whispered to him hurriedly. 

He looked at her with confusion. 

“They are scared of you,” she hissed. “Offer me your arm. Trust me.”

To her surprise, Eris did as she said. Like a gentleman, his left arm was held out and Y/N gently placed her hand on his bicep. She noted how thick and strong the muscles were there. 

A red-brown haired male came to greet them. 

“Lord Callum,” Eris greeted formally. 

Callum bowed his head deeply. “To what do we owe the pleasure, High Lord?”

“I am surveying the cities of Autumn Court. Much has been ignored these past centuries. I plan to remedy that with a tour of my court.” 

Callum didn’t hide his surprise at such a gesture. Then his gaze shifted briefly to Y/N. “I see you have graced us with the heroin that is your mate.” Then he bowed at her and greeted her with, "Lady Y/N."

Y/N gave him a shy but warm smile. But she promised Eris she would stay quiet and she was not at all versed in political conversations, especially ones at a royal level. 

“Y/N was rather excited to hear we were visiting Falanaird,” Eris answered. Then he looked down at her with an encouraging look. “Weren’t you?” 

Y/N nervously cleared her throat before saying, “Yes! I heard Falanaird is responsible for the best harvests in all of Prythian. I was excited to see the city for myself.” 

Callum seemed to straighten with pride as such a compliment. “You honor us, Lady Y/N.” 

“Let us discuss the needs of the city, Lord Callum.” Eris commanded. 

Callum bowed his head and gestured for them to walk into the city. 

“Make sure to keep that kindness in your eyes,” Y/N whispered to Eris when everyone else around them was distracted. 

Eris’ face immediately softened with her instruction. But he kept Y/N on his arm as they were guided through the city. 

Callum gave Eris detailed updates on various businesses and citizens of Falanaird. Eris rarely interrupted and when he did, it was to ask for more details on certain matters. 

“And how are the crops fairing this season? I know with the last, there was some issues that my father had little patience for.” 

“Aye,” Callum agreed darkly. “The eggplants and carrots are suffering. The creek used to direct water to the beds has been misdirected and we have been unable to fix it permanently.” 

Eris frowned but nodded.

“What is blocking the creek?” Y/N asked suddenly. 

“A giant pine tree, Lady Y/N. It then flows into a river that we have built an irrigation system for those specific crops.” 

Y/N looked to Eris before continuing. He seemed both amused and curious as to where she was going with her question. 

“Could you take us to it?” She continued shyly. 

“The ground is muddy and no place for a lady,” Callum tried to warn her. 

Y/N smirked before teasing him with, “Worried about getting mud on your nice clothing, Lord Callum? I will survive.”

They hiked through a nearby forest to get to the creek Callum referenced. Eris moved Y/N’s hand from the crook of his arm and laced their fingers instead to help her through the hills and mud. She knew he would never let her fall or so much as trip. 

“We have tried to use fire wielders to incinerate it, but the wood is too moist,” Callum explained. 

“I guess it is a good thing your High Lord is here then?” Y/N answered with a smile. Then she turned to Eris. “If I remove the water, can you set the fallen tree alight?” 

Eris nearly scoffed at the question. “I can destroy it even without your efforts.”

Y/N laughed. “Then by all means…” 

With the wave of his hand, Eris set the tree into flames. Even from their distance, Y/N could feel the warmth of it. 

Through his magic, the tree was nothing but ash in just a few seconds. 

However, the creek was still too low to move the water where it needed to go. 

Y/N stepped forward quietly and then kneeled. She looked at the water as if she were about to have a conversation with it. 

Slowly, she started chanting in a whisper. It was once again a language Eris did not know or understand.

But the water started rippling. He heard crashing of water in the distance, and a mini-monsoon of waves came rushing from the creek’s source, filling it up to the brim. 

Callum looked on in awe. Some of their escorts even let out quiet gasps.

Y/N looked up at the sky. 

Everyone stood behind her, but Eris was at her side. So only he saw when her eyes glazed over in white, like they had on the night they’d killed Beron. 

She chanted again. It seemed to echo through the forest. Like nature was chanting back. 

Thunder cracked over them. 

And then the next second, rain started pouring. 

Callum smiled up as the storm soaked him. 

Y/N turned to him. “Hopefully that does it.”

“Thank you, Lady Y/N. You do not know the miracle you have bestowed upon us.” 

Then he watched on as Eris immediately removed his cloak to cover Y/N’s head and protect her from the rain. 

“Follow me,” Callum said. “There is an inn where you can seek shelter.” 

Eris grabbed her hand again, hurrying them to follow Callum. 

But when they reached an inn at the edge of the forest, the two of them were already soaked. 

Y/N giggled from the ridiculousness, especially when she looked up at Eris to find how irritated he seemed about being wet. 

Without realizing what she was doing, she stepped forward to brush some stray hair off his face and behind his ear. 

“Shall we have a drink?” She asked his sweetly. 

And just like that, Eris’ irritation disappeared and he smiled down at his mate. 

He nodded and nudged his head at the barstools in the tavern that was the bottom floor of the inn. 

His sentries were close on their heels, eyeing the patrons who had already been in the tavern upon their arrival. 

“Keep your distance,” Eris commanded. “I do not need you breathing down my neck.” 

They did as he said, grabbing tables and taking standing posts far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop on their High Lord’s conversation. 

The bartender clearly recognizes Eris, but didn't let it stop his gruff and abrupt attitude when he asked them what they wanted to drink. 

He slammed two giant mugs of ale in front of them, and then left them alone. 

“I see you have more clever tricks up your sleeve, little witch.” 

Y/N frowned a bit. “If I am being honest, they come as a surprise to me, as well.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Ever since that day you found me in the woods…something new has come to the surface. Something…powerful.” Her brow furrowed as her eyes glazed over and she remembered her last days in Night Court. “I almost killed Azriel when we were sparring. I summoned a lightning strike and it almost hit him.” 

Eris smirked. “It would have been a cause for celebration.” 

Y/N pinched his arm. “That is not funny!” 

But Eris’ amusement disappeared as he said, “I will not forgive him for what he did to you. You should have given him your wrath.” 

Y/N stared down into her ale. “The wind said you threatened him when you found out he forgot about me. I guess…I guess it makes sense now that I know our…umm…connection.” 

Eris watched her a moment before he answered. “Well, he would be dead if I did not care about how upset it would make you.” 

Y/N’s face got hot at his confession. So she distracted herself by looking around at the tavern. It was cozy and the light was colored in oranges and reds, only being lit by a hundred candles and two roaring fireplaces. 

“What are your thoughts on Falanaird?” Eris asked after a moment.

“It is beautiful,” Y/N answered immediately. 

“It is no Velaris,” he pointed out. Then a tiny bit of hope sparked in his eyes as he locked gazes with her and added, “But perhaps one day it could be.” 

“Or perhaps…” she replied slowly, “it will be better.”

Eris looked out the window as the rain pelted the glass harshly. “How long did you make it rain for?”

Y/N shrugged and looked a bit embarrassed. “I have not a clue.” 

He laughed. “We could be here all night.” 

“Good thing we’re already at an inn.”

Both their minds went to the scandalous implication of what she may have meant. 

But then Eris remembered what Feyre had once shared with him, what Y/N had confessed to her about her past lovers. And he couldn’t stop the darkness from taking over his face. His grip tightened dangerously on his ale. 

Unfortunately, Y/N interpreted Eris’ sudden shift as his disinterest in the idea of ever sharing a room with her at an inn. 

“Why have you been researching Autumn Court in the libraries?” 

“Library,” she corrected. “Singular.” 

He narrowed his gaze. “You know what I mean. Stop evading my question.” 

Y/N sighed. “I live here now, do I not? I figured I should learn about its history.”

“And you did the same for the Night Court when you lived there?” 

She opened and closed her mouth. “Well…umm n-no, actually.”

Eris looked out the windows again. “Thank you…for your help today, Y/N.” 

“You’re the one who burnt down that giant tree as if it were nothing.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he quickly told her. 

Y/N swallowed, sensing that he was going to say something that would make her heart skip a beat. 

“I find it…difficult deciding who I am supposed to be as High Lord of this court. I do not want to be my father, that I am sure of. But after centuries of wearing a mask…it’s harder to take it off than I ever could have imagined.”

She nodded. 

Eris stared at her a moment before finally confessing, “I find it easier with you at my side. That is what I am thanking you for.” 

Y/N reached for his hand, softly covering it. “Kindness is not a weakness. Just like cruelness does not equate to strength.” 

“Even Rhysand wears a mask to control his subordinates,” Eris argued. “I have seen his charades at the Court of Nightmares.” 

Y/N watched him with confusion. “But why compare yourself to him?” 

“You have seen the headway he’s made as High Lord. His true court is made up of dreamers, not high-borns given power by birthright alone. He has assured female Illyrians have the same opportunities to train as males, and tried his hardest to put a stop to wing clipping. The citizens of Velaris do not fear him, they respect him. How am I not to compare myself?” 

“That is his legacy, not yours.” She urged. “You have only been High Lord for a month, Eris. Give yourself time. You have plenty of it.”  

But Eris said nothing in return, only got lost in his internal battle of self loathing and unrealistic expectations he has put on himself. 

Y/N leaned forward. “Do you know why I insisted that Callum shows us the empty creek? Because I knew you could fix it. And what your people need to see is that you care – about them, about their cities. They need to see that you do not believe you are above their troubles.”

She leaned back. “So you go to village after village in Autumn Court, and you show them that you care.” 

Eris could stop his beaming from her words. “You will come with me?”

Because what did any of this matter if she didn’t?

Eris was starting to realize he couldn’t do any of it without her. 

“And when it is safe for you to leave?”

Y/N frowned at such a subject being brought up. 

She nodded toward the windows. “It has stopped raining.” 

One of his sentries approached. “High Lord, we should start our journey back to the Forest House before it gets too late.” 

Eris reached into his pocket for coins to pay the bartender. 

“Don’ botha,” the bartender spat his his thick accent. “It’s on the ‘ouse.” Then his eyes shifted between the two of them as he dried a glass. “For riddin’ us o’ that favver o’ yours. The both o’ yer.”

When they got outside, someone had already brought their horses for them. 

Y/N tried to return Eris’ cloak to him, quietly handing it to him. The thick fabric was damp for their attempt at shielding her from the rain.

Eris took it, lightly blew on it, and handed it right back to her. 

Y/N eyes widened in surprise when she found that it was completely dry and also warm like it had been sitting by a fire for hours. 

“Keep it,” he instructed firmly. “The sun is setting within the hour.”  

—

They were only 20 or so minutes from the Forest House when Eris saw Y/N’s head bob from falling asleep. 

Her horse, Aengus, kept moving closer and closer to Eris, as if he was worried for his rider and was making sure Eris would be able to catch Y/N if she fell off. 

She was in an exhausted and delirious daze. She could hear the conversations around her. But they felt unreal, like she was in a dream or sleepwalking. 

“Should we move her to the wagon to sleep, High Lord?” One of the guards asked quietly, as if he feared waking her. 

“That won’t be necessary.”

Then Y/N, half asleep, felt a tug on the right side of her saddle. A large mass mounted her horse and pulled themselves behind her in the saddle.

But she recognized Eris’ scent and warmth immediately, stopping her from startling and fully waking up. 

“You were falling asleep in your saddle, little witch. And at risk of falling right off your horse,” Eris whispered in her ear. “Go back to sleep.” 

His arms reached around her, taking her reigns and also caging in her body protectively. 

And she did just that, leaning back against her mate and falling into a deep sleep now that she knew she would be safe from falling off her horse. 

What she didn’t think about was that Eris could have easily winnowed both of them home. She would never put together that her mate finds any way to extend their time together – even if it existed as her falling asleep against his strong chest and he rode them home safely. 

Y/N barely stirred when they returned to the Forest House and Eris gently pulled her from the saddle, landing on the ground with her in his arms. 

His footsteps echoed down the halls.

“Cauldron, what happened?” She recognized Leonora’s worried voice in her sleep. 

“She is only sleeping, mother.”

“The poor thing must be exhausted. Waking up at the crack of dawn to train herself nearly to the point of collapsing. Only for you to force her on a trip to Falanaird afterward.”

Eris sighed. “She insisted. I am going right to the Weapons Master after putting her to bed to tell him their lessons are canceled tomorrow. She needs rest.” 

“Perhaps you should take the day, too.” Leonora urged. “Together.”

--------

Please please please please please please let me know what you think! Be like @pancakefancake

Chapter XX

[anathemafiction]

the scar got me thinking. which of the ro’s would care if they got a scar on their face and who wouldn’t?

Alessa, Alain, Ysabella, and Rafael would be the ones who care, each for their own reasons, but all stemming from self-image insecurities. Alessa would pretend she cared not, but if you watched her closely, you would notice how she avoided standing in front of mirrors —her hair wouldn't be as well put together as usual, as if she braided it or tied it without looking.

Alain would smirk and say that it makes him look dashing, but the truth is, the nobleman would get a hit to his confidence. He'd falter, and turn his face away from those whose eyes he deems important. I think he'd learn to like it, but it would take some time. 

Bella... would probably take it the worst out of everyone. She's not a mercenary, a pirate, an ex-inquisitor, a thief, or a spy. She's a noblewoman, the game of court is her trade. It's unfortunate but beauty is often considered the most important quality a woman can have in her circles. Ysabella knows this, and she uses it. With a scar on her face... her life would be harder. 

Rafael would sneer at it and add it to the pile of things he doesn't like about himself. The man doesn't particularly like to look in the mirror anyway, so this won't add much, but it'd be a blow nonetheless. 

As for the others, Hadrian wouldn't exactly like it, but he wouldn't make a big deal out of it either. Scars happen. It wouldn't be his first and, if he's lucky, it won't be the last — better a wound scar than kill. 

If it wasn't for the sting, Neia wouldn't even notice it. She has a scar on her face already, what's one more? If the bastard who dared to strike her lay dead, Neia would smile while looking at it. If, however, the ones who did it to her still walked the land of mortals, then her lips would curl in wrath every time she looked at it. Eventually, it'd all fade to nothing, and the wound be forgotten.

The Pirate would be the one to like it the most. He thinks it gives him character. It looks good. If he tilts his chin down, letting a long, black strand of hair fall down his forehead to cover one of his black eyes and twists his lips to the side — the scar makes the ones he stares at shiver. Plus, it's a reminder that he walked out alive while the other one lies at the bottom of the ocean.

At first, Lance wouldn't know what to think. He'd squint his eyes and turn his face from side to side, staring at it. Uh. It... doesn't look half bad. The scar tissue sits beneath his left eye like a half-moon, and Lance thinks it makes him look even more distinctive. Yes, he likes it. The bard-turned-spy takes a few steps back and bows to his image in the mirror. It grins back at him. 

[xblackreader]

↳  My List of Attuma of Talokan x Okoye of Wakanda Headcanons

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thanks to the attoye discord server :3

enjoy

- SFW✨💞

* Attuma is a hopeless romantic. He loves wooing Okoye with words and gifts especially, it shocks everyone at first bc he’s so stoic in public, but then it becomes everyday Attuma.

* Okoye is very protective of Attuma and his reputation. She says it’s because “disrespecting my enemy as weak is calling me weak” but in truth, she just won’t tolerate any disrespect of him. She respects him.

* Their favorite things to do together is cook. Okoye likes the structure and the immediate outcome from hard work of cooking. Attuma likes to eat food.

* Attuma is very clumsy. He has hit his head many times in her home. Vases, glasses, bowls, doors etc have all felt his wrath.

* Okoye has been a bachelorette for many years so when Attuma starts courting her, she genuinely doesn’t know what to do. Like… you got a crush on me?

* Their arguments are not explosive, they’re icy. Silent treatment & cold shoulders… Attuma is usually the first to break. He misses her smile and she misses his touch.

* Okoye’s smile and her laughter is Attuma’s weakness. He melts when she smiles because her joy is bright and warm like the Sun.

* Attuma is surprisingly a huge cuddle bug. You can find him touching Okoye in some way at all times. Whether it’s holding her hand or holding her hostage in his arms.

* Attuma hates when Okoye tries to make him wear surface clothes. He doesn’t want boxers or shirts. He doesn’t even like when she wears any clothes…

* Okoye is a massive Tsundere but also simultaneously very transparent. She thinks she’s hiding her crush well, but everyone knows. She gets so nervous and defensive around him.

* Okoye loves how soft and strong Attuma is… in her head she calls him her ‘teddy bear’.

* Attuma hates planes/helicopters. The thought of him being off the ground makes him extremely uncomfortable. Leave the flying to Ku’kulkan.

* When she’s tipsy or just tired, Okoye likes to bite him. She’ll softly bite his arms, shoulders, cheek, nose, chin, whatever she can reach. He loves it.

* Attuma is very needy for attention. If she’s not paying attention to him, he gets huffy. He pouts. Only when they’re alone though. Never catch him pouting in public.

* Attuma completely understands Kevin Gates. Every word he says Attuma thinks, “Exactly.”

* Okoye gives great massages. She also loves to braid and brush his hair.

* When they send the kids to school Attuma tries to remain calm and collected, but he’s sobbing inside. Those are his babies and now they’re growing…

- NSFW 🔞🖤

* Okoye likes it when Attuma is commanding and takes charge. He very rarely attempts to overpower her as he is already stronger than her so when he does overtake her, it moves her a little bit…

* Sparring is foreplay for them. It gets blood pumping and puthy drippin. Wrestling and hand to hand combat is them flirting.

* They’ve broken many bed frames (Okoye gets so upset everytime but Attuma is proud)

* Attuma hates when Okoye wears panties under dresses. They are hindrances. How you gon wear something easy access and then prohibit his access??

* Attuma gives great massages too, but his hands always turn it into sex. Big hands and combat training means he knows just where to push…

* Okoye discovers she has a size kink with him… he’s so much bigger and stronger than her and it gets her going when he holds her down or exhibits his strength.

* Attuma is very vocal during sex, but not very verbal IYKWIM… he grunts and growls, he doesn’t talk very much during.

* Attuma is a panty thief.

* Okoye knows.

* Okoye paints her toes red usually but she also starts to paint them blue bc that’s when Attuma shows her feet the most attention. (yes, he sucks toes. He’s a freak.)

* Attuma likes to watch Okoye touch on herself; whether he’s watching her shower, put lotion on, or masturbate. He likes to watch her.

* Attuma also loves to put on a show for others. He’s not afraid of making her scream his name, so the neighbors blush and avoid eye contact when they see him. He knows he’s a master in bed, and loves to brag. Combination.

* Okoye likes to dress up to surprise Attuma. Lingerie and role playing, is where she has the most fun.

* Okoye and Attuma are switches, but often battle for dominance. Attuma is larger and stronger so he usually wins, but if he’s in the mood to be dommed; Okoye is on top of it… so to speak.

* Attuma has a massive breeding kink. He likes growling in her ear how he’s going to give her a baby, or fill her up until she’s pregnant. The idea of her carrying his children excites him a lot. Thats why they got so many damn kids.

* Attuma is an ass man. Now don’t get him wrong, he loves that perfect pair on her chest, but her behind is where it’s at. Catch him touching, groping, massaging, slapping or even biting that thang whenever he can.

* When Okoye’s feeling horny, she won’t just approach and proposition Attuma like he does with her. She will pick a fight or just wearing sheer or shorter clothes until he does something about it. If he catches on and doesn’t take the bait to tease her, she will pout and be snippy until he pays attention to her needs.

* Pissed off or Competitive Okoye makes Attuma feral. If she gets that look in her eyes, like “I’m going to end you.” He gets hard as a rock.

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Comment below with “SFW” or “NSFW” and your headcanons! ❤️💙

[im-in-a-love-cult]

Marauders era headcanons!!

The Royal court

Requested by @thestarslittleking

Sorry if you disagree with some of them!!

Regulus

Pouty

Like a pout is almost always on his face

His eyes are really telling of his emotions sometimes

Likes physical contact with people hes EXTREMELY close with

Likes being called Reg by people hes close with

If a random person calls him it theyre going to the hospital 💀💀

Bi, trans and asexual

'Its the 70s he wouldnt be-' kindly stfu 💞💞🥰🥰

This is a common one but hes practically a poet

Strong French accent

Japanese/british English/ French

As i said in the previous hcs his accent is stronger then Sirius's

Loves the water

He's actually really smiley around his friends

Classical music but when he gets into his later years in hogwarts he starts to like goth music

I can see him being good at gothic dances

Black cat animagus IDC

Barty

unhinged

Thats it. Thats the hc.

A whore tbh

Liked Reggie for a while

Until he was like 'dayum look at Evan 😼'

LMFAO

Ok I'll try not to include too many ships in these

This isnt my original idea but affectionately bites people

'Barty... what're you doing?" "Nom"

When drunk hes...something

Take that how u will

Tw for drugs in the next hc!!

Honestly more of a weed kinda guy

Ok tw over continue reading

Professional complainer

If complaining was a job he'd be the richest man alive (well not alive but..)

ROCK MUSIC

queen fan idc

Him and Sirius are actually very similar in a lot of areas

Thats why Reggie was drawn to Barty

Plays the drums

He wears tank tops a lot

Always hurts somewhere

Its mostly his fault

I can see him being bi with a preference for boys or just full on gay

Dorcas

Sirius has competition to whos the most beautiful person in the Marauders era fr

Almost always has locs or braids

Scarily good at makeup

Tall

Potential to be a 2000s Victoria secret model fr

Has the most beautiful soothing voice

Lesbian non-binary (they/she)

So many people have a crush on them

Fav alcohol is wine

Classy 😻😻

Extremely smart

Really long eyelashes

I love her

Doesn't care for animals

Really likes dragons tho

HER AND REGGIE ARE A POWER DUO IDC

Steady hands

Wears lots of rings

Ignores people a lot 💀💀

Sassy as HELLL

Barely ever means it tho

Evan

One of those scary blue eyed blondes

Kind of a less energetic version of Barty

BISEXUAL IDC

A gentleman to all girls he dates

All the boys got usual, casual dating

Barty gets to be treated like a one of those dogs that look like rats 🥰

I KNOW WHAT THE NAME IS BUT I CANT SPELL IT

Chiwawa

Ciwawa

Chiwaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I can see him having really light freckles

Will punch someone in the face for funsies

"Evan why would you do that!?!" "I was bored bro"

BARELY passes his tests

He passes but only by a few marks

Loves making fun of peoples voices

Its his favourite pastime

Pandora

So unnecessarily nice to 1st years

And everyone tbh

Smiley

Pansexual

Loves animals of any kind

If shes angry shes lowkey scary 😨😨

Actually really funny

Her hairs messy 84% of the time

When shes too active or gets too hot her cheeks go really red

ME TOO BABES ME TOO 😭🤞

Spaces out so easily

Blonde blue eyed but less scary than evan 😭

A bit of a potty mouth

Also really smart

"Wow this friend groups so smart!" And then theres Evan and Barty 💀💀

Really posh accent

Has scars from thorns and animals and shit 💀

Loves learning new things

No matter what that thing it

'Knowledge has no boundaries' i feel like she says that

Or at least goes by it

Shes so real wtf

YES YOU CAN MAKE REQUESTS!! I'm new to this so please be patient 😭 i prefer requests to be put in my asks!! Thanks for the positive feedback yall :)

[hobbitsesoftheshire]

Okay this is something i came up with 5 minutes after a panic attack to comfort myself. So if this is bad and theres a lot of typos dont blame me blame the panic attack

Also i didn't just steal a part of the plot from the dsmp what do you mean...

It was already pretty late at night and the company was camping near a lake next to forest. Bombur had just finished cleaning up the dishes with the help of Bilbo and Bofur. You were sitting near Kili and Fili who were laying on their bedrolls.

They were telling you stories of some of their past experiences with dwarrowdams and women. Thorin was discussing something with Gandalf, Dwalin and Balin and the rest of the company were chatting quietly.

"After she had rejected me she went and asked Fili out on a date saying she preferred an older dwarrow with a proper beard" Kili said with hurt in his eyes but a small smile on his face.

"And what did you do, Fili?" you asked. "I told her that i preferred more kind-hearted dwarrowdams and walked away with Kili" Fili said with a smal grin on his face.

"Thats actually a good comeback" you noted.

"Yeah i have gotten rejected 32 times so Fili has had time to figure out good comebacks" Kili muttered.

"You have been rejected 32 times?! Let me tell you something that is 32 people in Middle-Earth with no taste" you declared loudly catching everyone elses attention too.

"Y/n i want to marry you" Kili said half jokingly. "Yes i will marry you my dearest Kili" you replied. "Actually? You joking or are you serious?" Kili asked.

"If you are joking then i'm joking but if you're serious the i'm serious" you answered.

"Well i was joking but now i think im serious?" he said and moved to a sitting position. "Well then i guess we will get married" you shrugged.

"Shouldn't you two court first?" Fili chimed in.

"Ahh screw the formalities" you whined.

"Y/n"

"Yes Kili?"

"Can i court you?"

"Yes, i would love that"

"So i can put a courting braid in your hair?" Kili asked enthusiasticly. "Yes of course" you answered.

Kili started braiding a part of your hair while everyone else were eyeing the two of you wondering about the small plot twist in your lives.

When the braid was done you just looked at Kili as you smiled at each other. "I want to kiss you" he declared.

Before he said anything els eyou quickly leaned in and kissed him passionetly and he pulled you into his lap.

Suddenly you felt happy those 32 idiots had rejected him.

_______________________________________

A/n: this is so bad but i decided to post it anyway. Oh well 🥲

[queers-gambit]

High Noon

prompt: the tournament begins, and plans for a funeral looms

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 10k+

warnings: cursing, more non-specific smut, author projecting her loneliness, violence, more but wonky brain shut down!

previous: part one: Midnight Calls

next: part three: Darkening Hour

The morning was still, quiet, rigid with tension after the previous night's fiasco. Mary had come to your door early, finding you already sat before your vanity, pulling a hair brush through your locks. Your handmaiden kept quiet and selected a gorgeous gown from your chest, but then paused, and pulled a different one out.

The colors of the first dress was that akin to your husband's House, but the new dress was the darkest of coal in color with red threading along the bodice. Mary turned to show you the dress, cocking her head, "You've not worn this one before, Lady... Perhaps today is a good day to wear it?"

Your lips quirked in amusement, head cocking some as you focused on the mirror before you. "Those are interesting colors, Mary," you mentioned casually, "surely, that is pure coincidence?"

Mary looked to your chamber door and darted towards it, only pausing to toss the dress onto your freshly made bed, and shut the door firmly. She turned with her back to the wood, finding you twisting in your seat to face her, "Surely, you must have something to tell me of last night, my Lady?"

"What makes you think that?" You wondered.

"You met with the Prince," she rolled her eyes lightly, moving towards your body to turn you again towards the mirror. "What happened? Oh, please, Lady, you know the gossip in the castle is only half-truth, and I would never get to experience something like this."

You sighed gently, "Nothing happened, Mary, we only met and..."

"And?"

Your shoulders shrugged meekly, "And he told me of his Lady-wife's passing, I offered my condolences, and he wondered if I would support him in the tournament. I told him that it would be a great scandal in the court if I supported him, and not my husband."

Mary rolled her eyes, "Your husband's always been a pig, Lady, I am sorry." You nodded in agreement before silence befell the two of you, then, an idea came across your mind.

"Mary?" You prompted.

"Hmm?"

"In a perfect world, who would you choose?" You wondered, watching her through the mirror as she started to intricately braid your hair.

"From the courts?"

"Sure," you sighed.

"Hmm, well, Ser Harwin Strong is... Mhmmm," She hummed, nodding, making you both giggle. "And of course, there's a few others..." She went on to name a few names, before rolling her eyes, "Yes, yes... And I do suppose Prince Daemon is handsome, and brave... And strong, and handsome, and talented, and rebellious, yet so very charming, and cunning with a reputation that precedes him, and he's handsome, too..."

You laughed, "Think he's handsome, do you?"

"Perhaps a bit," she teased, winking back at you. "Though... I do know who I would marry if the Gods permitted it."

"Oh?" You perked up, grinning at her in wonder. "Are you going to tell me who it is, my friend, or let me be the only one sharing secrets?"

She sighed lightly, "His name's Edwin."

"Where did you meet?"

"He's a stablehand," she admitted, shrugging some. "Met through work, if you will. He's handsome... The third son of one of the blacksmiths, and doesn't truly keep up with his family, I suppose."

"Hmm," you considered. "And how does he feel of your family?"

She was one of ten siblings. Oh, her mother was a saint.

"Yes, well, in truth, he loves them," Mary breathed, "and my parents adore him."

"Then what's the issue?" You asked gently. "Why not court him properly?"

She shrugged, "He is... Courting another... Well - it is complicated, my Lady, and I am unsure of how it makes me feel."

"Who else is he courting?"

"The Lady Deena."

"No!" You gasped.

"I know!" She whined. "Their father's set it up, but Edwin does not wish to enter service, for he is talented as a smith, but he loves horses more and likes what he does now. He's truly a humble man - but it's put delay on their betrothal."

"And now you've fallen in love with him, oh, Mary," You sighed. "Would you point him out to me? I wish to put a face with the name."

"Of course," she nodded, already dressed for the tournament after agreeing to be your escort as your husband was competing. "And Lady Deena has been boasting about her seats for the tournament. Edwin's going to compete..."

"We need to make you a token, so you can give it to him! Oh the look on the Lady Deena's face!" you gasped lightly as you shook your head, looking around your room. "Okay, I'll make you one if you do those braids I like?"

"The thick ones?"

"Please," you nodded, your maid agreeing; and leaving you sat in the chair for another hour (or longer) with a woven favor in your lap as Mary tucked, twisted, and braided your hair.

Your make-up was perfected after, and then, you decided to wear the beautiful black dress. Just as Mary was lacing the corset, there was a knock at the door. "Enter," You called, revealing another maid. "Yes?"

"From the Prince, my Lady," she presented a sheet of suede; laying it on the table, and bowing out of the room as if in fear. Her eyes had never lifted from the floor, and you wondered what abuse the servants in the castle usually endured.

You made a mental note to ask Daemon about it later.

"What's that?" Mary wondered as your heels clicked over the floors to reach the small table holding a pitcher of wine and a few books; pulling the suede flap up to reveal the most beautiful sight.

A strand of thick rubies that were posed as a choker necklace, making it look like the jewels would drip off your neck. There was a pair of matching ruby earrings, with another matching ruby ring; complimenting your choice of dress perfectly.

"Gods," Mary swore when she saw the jewels. "Those are a pretty thing, hey?"

"Beautiful, I'd say," you complimented, petting the sparkling gems intimately. "Would it add insult to wear? I would be wearing Targaryen colors, Mary..."

"No, you look ravishing in this," she assured, gesturing to your dress, "that I do not think anyone would interpret this as betrayal. And the jewels?" She tutted lightly, "I would think the Prince be offended to find you not wearing them, Lady."

"I fear you might be right," you admitted, trying to fight your smile. "Would you put it on?"

"Of course," she agreed, taking up the necklace with gentle hands. She latched it on as you fixed the earrings into your piercings, slipping the ring on you right ring ringer; opposite the wedding band you wore for your husband. "Gods be good," Mary nodded, stepping back to admire you. "You look incredible, my Lady. Honestly - I am finding the words hard, you look... Just wow," she nodded, clasping her hands together. "How you have grown into a stunning young woman. No wonder the Prince is so smitten."

You sighed lightly, "Oh, Mary - "

"No, my Lady, you just look breathtaking," she nodded, waving her hands frantically. "Oh, enough of that from me, you don't need an old woman telling you how beautiful you are." She sighed almost sadly, nodding, "Just wish your mother could see you now."

Your smile faded slowly, "Might I be honest a moment?"

"Of course."

"Since I left home and came here, you've been more mother than I've known before," you admitted. "And your praise means everything to me, so, please, don't hold back," you both giggled lightly.

"Come," she nodded, fixing a portion of your necklace. "The joust is to start soon, and I do believe our men are competing - both of yours, I do mean."

"Hush," You nodded with a smile, and took one last look at yourself in the mirror, the jewelry making you look and feel powerful - as if cloaked in Daemon's sigil, and his protection. Mary's arm looped around yours as you departed down the halls of the Red Keep; pushing out of the doors, and joining a stream of other royals heading for the tournament grounds.

You both held your woven favors in your hands and found your seats easily; giggling lightly and pointing to different things. Ser Harwin Strong passed by and paused to bid you both a good day, kissing the back of your hand, and even taking the seat beside you to mumble to you and Mary about the happenings in the sandy arena.

In an interesting turn of events, your husband was announced against the Rogue Prince - and your heart stalled in your chest as your hand blindly slapped Mary's thigh. Concern spiked as your husband boisterously rode into the arena on a brown horse, the crowds weakly cheering for the fattening knight, but then muttering in confusion when he approached the side of the stands you were not on, and accepted the favor of another Lady.

"Oh," Mary whispered, eyes wide; glancing at you with nervousness.

Harwin cleared his throat, "A simple curtesy, I'm sure."

"Hmm," You hummed, nodded as if it did not sting to witness. The Lady across the stand was Lady Regina - who had a renowned reputation of wrecking homes. She bit her lip and stood at the railing, watching your husband like he was prey, and you understood why. The only appeal of your husband was the location of his home as it was strategic, and a great host to farmlands.

He also commanded some 3,000 soldiers that he had pledged to the crown...

Your marriage was great in the sense that he left you alone, but all of his wives had died... And for the first time, you questioned how. "Ser Strong?" You mumbled, making the knight lean in some. "Might I ask you something?"

Prince Daemon was announced, the crowds cheering harder as Harwin agreed.

"How did my husband's first three wives come to pass?"

Mary leaned in to listen as the knight cleared his throat nervously. "Naturally, my Lady," he nodded, Daemon galloping around the arena in his dragon-suited armor.

"Do not lie, Ser," you demanded. "Tell me truthfully."

"Truthfully - it was all presented as natural," he lowered his voice. "But there are those who like to whisper that your husband... Might've tampered with their fate. There was never any proof, and once he married you, he has had no reason to be rid of you..."

Your lungs shuddered, "How, my good Ser?"

Harwin nodded, Daemon's horse pulling into a high-stepping trot while the high noon's sun beamed over you all. "The first turned septic after their second daughter was born. The second was lost on a hunt to freezing temperatures..."

"And the third?" You asked, lifting your chin to feign passiveness; eyes scanning the arena.

"Birthed two sons, and then fell headfirst into the river," Harwin answered, your eyes finding his. "He found them all, and there were never any witnesses."

"My Lady," A new voice called, making all three of you look up to discover Daemon Targaryen keeping his horse in a halt at the fence, but his eyes were drinking you in with a knowing smirk on his lips.

Not waiting to be told twice, you stood dutifully, and descended the wooden steps to the fence. "My Prince," you greeted softly, eyes raking over him in his dark armor.

"Would you honor me, my Lady? As your husband foolishly hasn't?" He smirked deeper, presenting his lance forward towards you.

Your lungs exhaled as you dropped your favor through the pole, his smirk never dimming in radiance. "Good luck, my Dragon," you whispered in Valyrian, sending him a soft smile as his smirk turned into a full-on grin. "And thank you," your hand shot up to pet over the rubies decorating your neck, flashing the ruby ring you wore.

He nodded, "They look ravishing on you - better than I imagined."

Worried for his public compliments, you nodded, "It's an honor to wear such a gift. I'll pray for a swift victory, my Prince."

He nodded, "My Lady."

Daemon backed his horse up two steps before turning and spurring him forward to reach the Targaryen side of the arena. You turned for your seat and the moment your bottom landed, the flag was waving, and both men were charging at one another at full speed. Each strike of their lances made you flinch as your husband's husk made him heavier, and a lot harder to unhorse; yet Prince Daemon's blows continued to land without yield.

Understanding he would face difficulty trying to unhorse his opponent, Daemon changed tactics; and the next lance was jolted into the ground before your husband's horse, sending them both careening into the sand. You gasped, standing in alarm with Mary and Ser Harwin as Daemon whipped his horse around with a menacing glare.

"SWORD!" Your husband roared, making the crowds cheer. "SWORD, NOW!" The three of you rushed for the fence, your hands taking the posts in a bruising grip as Daemon easily swung off his horse.

Two squires rushed into the arena. One presented your husband with his family's sword, the other taking hold of Daemon's horse, and holding the scabbard of Dark Sister.

Daemon revealed the Valyrian Steel blade, and you swore you saw your husband tremble in his armor. But he could not back down now, and took the first lunge with a wild battle cry. Each clang of metal made you flinch, watching with unblinking eyes as the two knights swung fatally at one another.

Their feet danced over the sands, and you heard only a portion of their conversation. The Prince had growled with hacking swings, "You never deserved her!"

Two swords continued to swing and hack at each other, until, the Prince of the City had more than enough of the fat knight before him, and with his teeth bared in a snarl, drove his sword through a weak-spot in your husband's armor. Daemon lowered his mouth to his ear, assuring with a hiss, "When I pull this blade free, you'll die within a minute. But you'll feel every ounce of pain as I flood your lungs, and know, this is all you deserve for what you did to her." He drove the sword an inch deeper, "You'll rot for what you've done, but fear not, for she is mine again, and will never know pain again."

Daemon yanked Dark Sister free, and the man stumbled to his knees; hand desperately trying to hold the spurting wound as the Lady Regina screamed from the other stands, and rushed into the arena to hold your husband as he died. You had firm belief that this was why nobody pitied the dead knight, why nobody reprimanded Daemon. It was a tournament, after all, and men died in all of them - and when your husband's consort rushed to him in your stead, they felt no sympathy for him. You were always viewed as a prize, even after your marriage marked you as 'taken'.

Your breathing slowed as time stilled when your husband hit the ground in the arms of the woman he chose over you. Not like you cared much, but something burned in your gut and left you feeling ashamed and embarrassed. It did not last long as Daemon was nearing where you still stood, nodding in respect.

"My condolences, my Lady," he panted lightly. "I will have his funeral transport arranged."

You swallowed, and with the eyes of the city on you, forced a nod, "That would be... Most gracious, my Prince."

He nodded again and turned to stalk out of the arena, leaving you, Mary, and Ser Harwin to watch Lady Regina sob loudly over your dead husband. Her dress was weighed heavy with his blood, and two more squires rushed out to pulled the body away. Your throat cleared and you felt at a loss, looking at Mary to whisper, "What the hell just happened?"

Her tone matched yours, "Prince Daemon just killed your husband."

Your head nodded, "Hmm... Thought so, means I'm not dreaming."

"Come," she pulled you by the hand. "We should go, get you out of here."

"What of Edwin?"

"It matters not - "

"No, we will watch," you insisted; glancing around as you stoically reclaimed your seats. Two more knights were presented, and it was like everyone forgot they witnessed a man die as the excitement of the tournament trumped any discomfort over the public murder of your husband. Your hands wrung nervously and time passed, your only salvation being that you got to see Mary bestow Edwin with her favor - and not the Lady Deena, who looked far too put out for the public eye.

And Edwin won his match, unhorsing his opponent!

It was a grand affair, and as you left the stands finally, a messenger found you and presented you a scroll. It was an official death certificate signed by the King, citing the natural causality of the tournament as the nature of his death. You nodded and showed Mary, parting ways as you were required to decide what to do with his body.

An hour later, you were stood above his sheeted-body; glaring at his pale, swollen face, and cursing his name under your breath. After you were allowed 'to say goodbye', you signed off on his transport home, where he was to be laid in his family's crypt, and his eldest son would inherit the title 'Lord'.

After deciding to return with the body, still set on playing your part as dutiful widow, you were given rest for the night as you'd embark on your journey 'home' tomorrow. The festivities would continue for the week, and you would miss it, but you were unsure of your standing in court now. Sure, Daemon promised to marry you - but you did not know where you would live now. Your husband's children were not overly fond of you that you did not know how welcomed you'd be, and returning to the Red Keep after the funeral felt wrong.

Worriment weighed your heart to your feet, and for the first time, you let the tears fall. Servants bowed out of your way as your emotion was tangible, pushing into your bedchamber before slamming the door, and panting against it.

No, you were not grieving your lying, cheating husband, but the public did not need to know that you were actually relieved about it. No, you were mourning the idea of Prince Daemon because surely it would be easy for him to go back on his word now.

You were confused, and scared, and while you had dreamt of your husband's demise before, the reality of it felt crushing. Would you return to your parents? Could you stay where your husband was Lord? Did you return to the Red Keep? What were you to do?

Feeling suffocated, you swiftly tore through the room and packed anything your hands touched. You were drowning in panic and sorrow that you missed the knock at your door; Daemon entering to find you shoving dresses into a trunk - rubies still latched around your neck.

"Dove?" He asked slowly, watching you jump in shock. His hands rose in peace, "What're you doing, pretty girl?"

"What am I doing? I'm packing, Daemon, what does it look like!?" You snipped, voice rattling from tears and mucus; hands shaking.

"All right," he nodded, "but why, dove?"

"Because I am to return my husband's body to his family's crypt!"

"Mhm? And then?"

"And then - I have no idea!" You shook your head. "Where I go after, I am not sure - I do not know what I am to do right now, I have never been a widow before."

Daemon's head cocked and his brows furrowed, stepping into your room, and shutting the door for privacy, "What're you talking about? You will return here - "

"Why? So, I might bury my husband, and return to court as a sign of my single hand? So that others might try to court me? That is a desperate look, my Prince - "

"No," he stepped forward, hands still held out calmly, "you would return here as my guest."

"Oh, because that's better!"

"Sweetheart," he spoke patiently, taking the clothing from your hands to set aside, "listen to me, you are thinking too much. You cannot remain anywhere but here - "

"Why?"

"Because I can protect you here," he nodded, reaching for your cheek. "You think I would abandon you?"

"You did once before..."

"And I am not the same man," he promised, leaning in to nuzzle his nose into your cheek. "I am not leaving you in this. I... I have spoken to my brother, my dove."

"What?" You gasped, stepping closer to press into his chest and look up at him. "About what?"

"About what is to happen," he assured gently, petting over your jaw and chin. "He has agreed to invite you back under his name to avoid any gossip, and when the time is right, announce our engagement with his full support and blessing."

"Daemon - "

"You forget, my dove, he is my older brother," he smirked down at you; gently cradling you to him. "He remembers us, and who we were before. He has agreed to give his blessing when the time is right, for none will go against his word."

Your brain felt like it was short circuiting, "Y-You did that for us?"

It made him chuckle, "Yes, dove. I was serious when I said I wanted you for the rest of my life. I know you are scared, I know you are unsure about what is to pass, so, listen to me. I will give you till the end of next month to settle his affairs, and if you are not back by then, I will come retrieve you myself with Caraxes."

"Why don't you come get me at the end of this month?"

He smiled lightly, "Gods, I was hoping you'd say that."

"Yeah?"

His nose nuzzled yours, "Yes, my dove. You will return and burry your husband, settle his estate, and I will come get you. You will be a guest of my brother, King Viserys, and in six months," he teased lightly, "we will announce our engagement - and I will not waste time in marrying you."

You nodded, "I do not need a feast, my love, only you."

He chuckled, "You say that as if I would not spare an expense to celebrate you."

"I know you wouldn't," you breathed, feeling a little more at ease. "You make this sound as if it's easy."

"It will be," he assured. "And when we are saying our vows, I promise, this will be worth it."

Your hand flattened to pet over his chest, "If you are so confident, I will not doubt you, my Dragon."

"So pack, dear, sweet Lady," he mumbled, "because I will have your things moved tomorrow."

"Might I ask where?"

"Wouldn't you rather be surprised?" He teased lightly.

"Or perhaps I would like to ensure you are remaining within respectable bounds," you answered, smiling when his lips finally descended to press against yours. He hummed, hand cradling your jaw and cheek now; letting your tongue sweep across his.

"My Lady is not acting very respectable now," he smirked, pressing his lips against your lips in hurried kisses; but his grin assured you that he was only jesting.

"You do not make me act very respectable, my Prince," you breathed, licking over his lips after. "But I am set for a long day tomorrow. It would take us a week to reach - "

"Sh," Daemon's head shook, resting his forehead on yours. "Worry not, my dove. I am here only to aid you. What might you need? How could I help?"

You smiled lightly and stood still, relishing in his warmth while his hands splayed across your back, and rubbed up and down. "I suppose I could finish packing my things," you finally mumbled, cheek pressed to his breast, and your arms tight around his ribs to anchor him against you.

Daemon nodded and turned to pour you both goblets of wine when you let go (after a few more kisses), making your heart skip a beat when he domestically began to help you pack. He joked lightly and folded clothes messily, letting you show him the 'proper' way; storing your belongings for his easier transport tomorrow. By the end, the pitcher of wine was dry, and you were both left in bed with sleepy eyes and nightwear.

Your hand traced patterns over his bare chest while one of his hands held your waist, and the other held the elbow of your bent arm. "I did not congratulate you on your victory, my Prince," you mentioned quietly, the only sounds of the room being that of a crackling fire from the end of your bed. "A well-fought battle."

He hummed and his lips pressed to your forehead, "Thank you, dove. I must say, it was a sweet victory."

"Oh?" You smiled lightly, and his hand tightened on your waist.

"How could I not? Look at my prize," he praised.

"Might I make a request?" You wondered in a whisper, lifting your gaze to his; lips ghosting over his jaw for you to press a few slow, soft kisses.

"Anything," he agreed, just as soft.

"When we are married, you would still compliment me as you do now. I do not tire hearing it."

Daemon chuckled, "Oh, my sweet princess, you are going to be spoiled in my affection, do not worry over that."

"Promises, promises."

"Hmm," he nodded, "I see - you do not believe words, but action. Very well, my dove, you will see," his eyes fluttered tiredly as his lips found your forehead again. "Might grow tired of the way I worship you."

"Never," You promised, just as tired. He sighed sleepily against your forehead, and the pair of you drifted off to sleep; finally content with the person sharing your bed and body heat.

At some point in the night, you both had shifted so that you faced the open window and Daemon's chest was snug against your back with his one arm stretched out under your head, and his other, coiled tightly around your waist. His nose had burrowed into the junction of your neck and shoulder, and it's where he woke up.

Well, you both woke due to a midnight, drunken duel taking place nosily in the courtyard beneath your window; his arm subtly constricting to alert you he was awake.

"Do you want me to close the window?" You asked in a hoarse whisper, eyes still closed.

Daemon's breathing shifted some, a kiss being pressed to the skin of your neck, "'S all right, dove. Air feels nice."

You nodded and settled again, subtly smirking when his hand pulled up your stomach and palmed your bare breast under the tunic you wore - one that smelled of his sweat and blood and overall natural scent. He felt your breathing deepen, licking the shell of your ear in a slow, upward motion, and humming, "Sorry, cold hands."

"Mhm," you mumbled, reaching a hand back and up to pet over his neck and cheek; then lowering it again. But your breathing shifted again when his thumb and pointer finger gently pinched and rolled your nipple, almost forcing your back to arch lightly as you whined. "Daemon," you breathed, sleep slowly escaping your body. "'S late, my love - uh!" You moaned when he pinched sharper, mouth opening against your shoulder while pushing his hips up into yours.

"Shh, my darling girl," he spoke quietly in your ear, palming your breast again as his new focus became thrusting his hardening cock into the swell of your ass. "You are leaving me for the rest of the month," he groaned, "and I will be without you, unjustly. You can lay there if you desire, I just need to feel you, my dove."

You chuckled lowly, grinding back against him, "You have gone this long without me, my Dragon."

"Which was too long to start with, and now that I've had a taste," he groaned, "I do not wish to go without. But I promise you," he shifted so the arm under you was curled at an angel to toy with your tit, and the other dropped to your hip to help guide your motions, "this will be the only time we are apart, my love. I will never be without you again - and you will not know my absence."

Tears prickled your eyes, "Do you swear it?"

His tongue flattened against your neck, making your head jut to the side for his better access; grinding sharply into you, "I swear it, my love. Fuck," he moaned, sniffing into your neck, "my wife."

"Not yet," you teased breathlessly, the hand on your hip moving to gather the long tunic and pull up to free your bare bottom.

"Soon," he promised, snaking his hand along your hips to push between your legs. You gasp and let your leg move back to hook over his hips, his groan of approval assuring you it was the right move as his hand curled to push his fingers into you deeply.

"Daemon," you moaned as if in heat.

"I will not taste you yet," he purred, biting the tip of your ear and making you jolt. "But I will fill your cunt with my seed," his finger increased, "and leave you with my memory. I would spend tonight in you, my dove."

"Please," you whined, a hand over his to encourage the grip he had on your tit, as the other reached back to keep his face and mouth close to your flushing flesh. Your hand contracted over his, making it roughly paw at your breast; voice breathless, "My Dragon, do not tease me longer."

Daemon panted from behind you, both hands dropping to free his hips of trousers; stroking his throbbing member only a few times while lifting your leg. "Remember, dove..."

"You've got me," you finished, nodding as one hand lined himself up and the other held your leg; plunging into you at this new angle, and making you both cry out with unfiltered ecstasy. "Daemon, oh, my Gods," you praised, head tossed back to his shoulder as he grunted against your ear; settling himself in position.

One arm shot under your body to hold you in place; hand able to twist to rub at your clit, as his other hand coiled around you, laid between your breasts, to clamp around your throat in a hold.

You had heard other ladies mumbling about being 'fucked into bliss', and didn't understand until now. Daemon kept your body in position to allow his hips to piston into your own, balls slapping noisily, and teeth bared to let a few mangled grunts escape.

Your mouth felt like it was broken and could only hang open, turned slightly into the pillows beneath you both. Daemon was flooded with pleasure, muttering sweet, dirty nothings in your ear; warning you he was close, and fingering your clit. As you released around him, his praise was voiced like a sure stream - just as sure as his cum filled you to the brim, slightly leaking from around him and wetting the crack of your ass.

"Fuck," you begged with a pant, his breath fanning over the skin of your shoulders. When you shifted, he grunted lightly but seized your hips to anchor you in place.

"No, dove," he whispered, still behind you, "let me stay."

"I was not disinviting you from my bed, Daemon," you jested.

"Hmm, that is good," he smirked, landing a single kiss to your shoulder. "But I meant let my cock stay - buried in this sweet cunt. Just for the night, my dove."

His vulgar words made you shudder some, "Daemon..."

"I will leave you in the morning," he promised, "and have the tea sent. But for now," he stifled another groan, "let me stay, my pretty princess."

"How could I say no?" You smirked.

"That was the point," he grinned, chuckling lightly as you both shifted some for comfort. "Sleep, my love," he whispered, letting you twitch a little before settling. As you drifted off, your mind conjured would-be situations you might find yourself in with Daemon once you marry, pending if you could keep this affair hidden for a respectable amount of time.

Three weeks after your arrival to your husband's estate, you were finally done aiding in settling the estate and bringing his eldest son into his Lordship, and you were so fucking ready to head back to Kings Landing.

Lucky for you, as you had finished breakfast that morning, someone was shouting from the outside, "DRAGON!"

You gasped and nearly tripped over your own feet to rush for the windows, catching just a glimpse of Caraxes gliding through the air to land outside the stronghold's territory. You had dressed in black as a symbol of mourning, but something in your gut stirred with the idea of wearing the color to represent your new married name.

With as much calmness as you could muster, you met your step-son (who was only a few years younger than you) in the court room, and waited. Being as you were 'Lady' of the estate, he had trusted you to help him learn the ropes, and while he was technically on his own now, he still liked having your ear.

The doors of the court room opened, and the Prince Daemon surged through the doors with a (familiar) knowing smirk.

"Lord," your step-son greeted.

You leaned towards his ear, "That's Prince Daemon, love, he's addressed as 'Your Grace'."

"Oh," he nodded, eyes widening in embarrassment; but Daemon only smirked and clasped his hands in front of him as he came to a halt before the new Lord. "My most sincere apologies, my Prince, I uh... I have never met Royalty, I did not know."

"No apologies necessary, my Lord, you have offended no one on your quest for knowledge," Daemon smoothly assured.

"To what might we owe this unexpected pleasure?" You had taught the new Lord to be dutiful and polite, to always ask how he might offer aid before making any assumptions for anyone's arrival.

Daemon lifted his chin, "Much like she has done here, my brother requests the Lady of the House to return to King's Landing, where she might aid in tutoring the King's son."

"Oh," your step-son's eyes widened, and your hand laid over his clutching the arm rest of his seat. "Yo-You are being summoned, step-mother."

You internally cringed at the term. "Yes... So it would appear."

"We cannot reject the King, no matter how I wish for you to stay," he sighed, nodding. "Right, we will offer the dragon three sheep for his long journey," he nodded to a guard, "and tonight, we will feast. On the morrow, we will see you off," he nodded to you now.

"With respect?" Daemon took a step forward. "The King has sent me on my dragon to ensure the lady's swift and safe arrival back into the city. The sheep are appreciated, but not necessary," his hands waved your step-son's offering off.

You lifted your chin and spoke the lad's name. He turned to you, eyes almost hopeful - but you would not be offering any now. "Come to court this season, and I will sponsor you," you spoke quietly. "Only for the season, and if you do not find a wife, come for the next. The dynasty of your family now lies on your shoulders, love, and you will be expected to produce heirs."

He nodded, "Father mentioned it before..."

"He wasn't wrong," you nodded softly. "So, I will go with the Prince now and report to the King, and in three months, you will be a guest of the city and partake in the courts."

"My first time," he mumbled nervously.

"Ah," you sighed, "think not of it, for you will be with me."

"Thank you," he smiled with gratefulness. "Who would watch here?"

You smiled, "Who would you trust?"

Your step-son paused, "Maester Arwyn?"

"A good choice, love," your lips pulled with pride. "And court is only a season long, you will return soon."

"Hopefully married."

"Hopefully," you teased, standing from your seat. "With your leave, Lord?"

He nodded, "Of course, yes. Yes, you should pack - come, Prince Daemon, let me show you the grounds while the Lady makes herself ready."

"A splendid idea," you praised as Daemon smirked.

"I agree, I've never seen what your town's to offer," Daemon smirked, turning to follow your step-son; shooting you a smirk and wink over his shoulder, and leaving you alone.

The moment the doors clanged shut, you took a sobering breath, and tried to remind yourself it was real - and in five months, you'd call that man husband.

You were shameless in your rapid packing, most of your desired objects already in the Red Keep. Daemon was lead on a total tour of the stronghold, and you met the pair where Caraxes was waiting - Daemon making introductions, as your step-son nearly quivered in fear of the scaly beast.

You were quiet as you approached, not daring to interrupt the moment. Daemon beamed in mischief as he caught sight of you, backing up to wrap his arm around you, and after an assuring glance to make sure your step-son's eyes were still 100% on Caraxes, leaned in to press a searing kiss to your lips.

In his native tongue, Daemon whispered, "I've missed you, my sweet princess."

"I've missed you more," you whispered in reply, words drowned out by Caraxes' deep breathing. "Making friends?" you asked a little louder, in the common tongue, directing it at your step-son's back; pushing Daemon's hands away with a teasing smirk.

"He's incredible..."

"Isn't he?" You agreed, coming to his side; spying his hand still flat on the reddish scales. "You all right?" You whispered, spying the tears shining.

"Just... Mesmerized, I'm okay, promise," He assured you. "This is incredible."

"When you come to court, I will show you the Dragon Pit," Daemon nodded, clapping the lad on the shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Course."

"Thank you, Your Grace," the lad nodded, beaming in glee and excitement. "Oh, you are packed already," he noticed your rucksacks. "I suppose you are ready to depart, then?"

You sighed, "I will write - and you can write me."

"And I'll see you in three months..."

"You will," you sighed, pulling him in for a tight hug. Smoothing over his hair, you paused to give him an affection squeeze - press a quick kiss to his forehead - and release him. "You're gonna be fine," you whispered.

He nodded and turned to Daemon, bidding the Prince a goodbye, safe travels, and promising to take him up on his offers. Daemon smirked and watched him walk away before leading you to the other side of his dragon. "Nice lad," he complimented, pushing your rucksacks from your shoulders. "Bit young, no?"

"He'll learn," you panted, reaching up to hook your hand around his neck and yank him into you - lips colliding in a frenzied mess. "Missed you - so fucking much."

He huffed through his nose, meshing your lips together messily before pulling back, "Missed you more, my dove. More than you know."

"I think I know," you winked, kissing him again, and then straightening up off of Caraxes hide. "So? How does... This all work?" You asked, glancing to the dragon providing you with limited privacy.

"Come," he spoke steadily, grabbing your bags, hoisting them up his shoulder; then climbing into the saddle, storing the bags, and reaching for you.

In Valyrian, you asked Caraxes, "Am I allowed to mount you? Not gonna eat me, right?"

The dragon snorted and shifted his weight, turning his head forward, and seemingly giving the O-K. Daemon reached for you, guiding you up to the saddle, and let you settle behind him. "Go easy on me, yes?" You whispered in his ear, aware of the eyes still lingering from the stronghold.

"Course, dove," he smirked - and everyone heard from the ground how you screamed in fright as Caraxes took off in a (clumsy) sprint, spread his wings, and took flight.

"DAEMON!" You scolded once in the air, clinging to him as if your life depended on it.

"Get used to this, my love," he laughed.

"Oh, my Gods," you whimpered. "Listen! If the Gods wanted us to fly, they would've given us wings, Daemon, oh, my fuck! Please! Please!"

"You're safe, my love," he assured, a hand over your tense ones that held the front of his tunic in a vice grip. "I would never let anything happen to you, you know that. And Caraxes is bonded to me - he would not let anything happen to you, either."

"Okay, that's reassuring, love, but we're still hundreds of feet in the air," you worried, tightening your hold on him.

"Sweetheart," he spoke softly, caressing your arms around his middle, "just open your eyes a moment. I promise it's worth it."

With mustered bravery, you wrenched your clamped eyes open, and the breath was knocked from your lungs. You were higher than the clouds, and by the Gods, you could see all land and clouds; the sun streaming between gaps; and providing a view you could never of imagined unless on dragon-back.

"See?" he smirked. "Not too terrible, is it?"

You breathed against the back of his neck, "No - it's beautiful, even, my love, do not mistake that. Doesn't make this any more safe."

"You are with me - how much more safe can you be, my love?"

"On the ground!" You groaned, burying your face into his shoulder blades. "Being on the ground is safest."

"Debatable. On dragonback, we can make a quick getaway. Safety is paramount up here, and Caraxes is a firece companion who has saved my life more often than not."

You hummed, wondering in a quiet voice, "Would I ever have to ride without you?"

"Never, my love."

You sighed with relief, "Then I suppose I could try to get used to this. But... Not right now."

"I understand," he chuckled, patting your hands again. "But I will need you to do one thing for me, my sweet."

"Hmm?"

"Come here."

"I'm right behind you, Daemon."

"No, come to the front," he smirked, twisting in the saddle to lean to the side. "Trust me, please," he nodded, guiding you around his body to settle in front of him; facing, and koala hugging him. "See?" He mused, hands smoothing over your back and waist, "Not too terrible."

"No," you shuddered lightly. "But we are not doing that again."

"In truth, it was a test," he admitted, gently curling a strand of wild, loose hair behind your ear.

"For what?"

"To see the extent of your trust," he sighed lightly. "I know you have not spent a lot of time around dragons, but for you to then climb around me? Tells me more than you'll know."

You hummed lightly, snuggled against his pectoral, "Did I pass your test then, my Prince?"

Daemon nodded, pecking your forehead, "Yes, my dove."

The rest of the ride wasn't as exciting as the start, but you did feel safer than before; might've even stretched your hands back some to support your upper body. With your legs hooked around his hips, and his hands casually sweeping up and down your thighs, it was otherworldly to just gaze at the man you were set to marry.

"What is it?" He wondered after an hour, the dragon gliding lower as you surged towards the capital of the country.

"Nothing," you assured, biting back your smile. "You just look so handsome."

"Oh?"

"Mhm," you nodded, elaborating, "this is where you belong, my Prince. Not on an Iron Throne, but here, on your dragon's back."

Daemon's eyes slitted some, "Careful, dove. We are nearly home."

"That matters?"

"Considering if another compliment such as that one passes through your lips, I might not wait until we're back to fuck you," he purred, hands tight over your thighs and slightly prying them open more.

"I'm surprised you've waited this long, truthfully," you smirked, his bare hands then slipping under your skirts to hold your calves. "How has it been without me?"

"Miserable, my love," he groaned lightly, letting his hands slide up to grasp the backs of your knees. "You were dearly missed, I almost stopped showing up to court, but figured it'd be suspicious if I returned when you did."

"My poor Prince," You eased, letting your knees widen. "Worry not, for I am back. And this coming season won't be like the others, hmm?"

"I imagine not," he admitted, raking his eyes over you. "Black suits you, my dove."

"Not for the reasons I wear it now," you cocked your head. "But in a few months, I'll wear this color to represent my husband."

Daemon smirked, dragging you forward gently as he leaned forward until his lips hovered over your own, "How I cannot wait to hear that."

"Hmm?"

"Being called your husband," he purred, smirking lightly before letting his lips descend upon yours. His hands pushed to grip at your thighs now, pawing at the meat of your inner thighs to hoist you into his lap, and keep you spread for him.

You let out a shuddering breath when his fingers danced down either side of your crotch; Daemon smirking when you whimpered as he pet to the sides of your sopping hole. "Daemon," you whispered, stomach knotting in anticipation, "if you do not stop now, we will not anytime soon."

He sighed, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck as his fingertips danced down your glistening slit. "I know you are right, but fuck, dove, you smell divine."

"Wait until we're home," you whispered, licking the shell of his ear after to save yourself from releasing a desperate cry as he added slightly more pressure. "I don't want us seen for the rest of the night, my Prince."

"'S still early," he pointed out.

"Exactly," you panted, cunt contracting as he simply toyed with your lower lips; spreading your arousal as you resisted the urge to hump into him. "Daemon," you warned now.

"Too much, my love?" he teased.

"Do not make us land with me bouncing on your cock, hmm?" You returned, hearing him chuckle lowly. His fingers retracted and you almost whined in disappointment.

"Fine," he relented, readjusting to hold your hips over your black dress. "I will resist this sweet cunt, but when we get in, we are not leaving the bed. Hmm?"

You smirked, "I would not want to. Might we be interrupted?"

"I might have, possibly, alleged... Told Viserys not to bother us," he admitted, shrugging some as his eyes casted down. "Hmm, speaking of home," he nodded, your head twisting to gaze down at the approaching city. "C'mere, dove," he sighed again, twisting you so you were forward in the saddle; straddling the dragon with your Prince's hands tight over your hips. "You're a natural up here, you know?" He mused gently in your ear, hands moving over yours to properly position them on the pommel of the saddle.

"I have a decent teacher," you mused, now eagerly peaking over scaly shoulders.

"Is that right? He take you flying often?"

"Hmm, no," you answered. "Though I think I might be interested in trying it more. Think he'd be willing to lend some time to me?"

"Who could say no to someone like you, princess?" He teased in your ear, Caraxes soaring lower to loom over the city.

"I am not sure," you smirked over your shoulder, "but it's a damn good thing I find it hard to say no to him, too."

"That right?" his teeth scraped over your ear, making you inhale deeply and grind back against him - relishing in the feeling of his hardening cock that would soon be plunging into you. "Easy, my princess - don't need me finishing in my pants and giving us away now, do we?"

You sighed lightly, "Guess not."

He chuckled, pecking your neck before taking control of the dragon's reigns, whispering, "I cannot say no to you, either, my dove."

Your hand rose to pet over his cheek with a hum, his chin resting on your shoulder; the Dragon Pit coming into view, and after circling it, Caraxes was landing with a distinct thud and bellowing roar.

Your lungs had stuttered in nerves but one of Daemon's hands smoothed around your hips to keep you anchored against him as you rocked dangerously upon landing. When the dragon was stable, Daemon loosened his grip to peer around at you, "You all right, dove?"

"Yeah," you sniffled. "Bit rougher than I thought, but all right."

"You will get used to it, my love, promise," he promised, nudging his forehead to your temple for a brief moment. "All right, c'mere," he sobered up, grabbing your few bags, and dismounting first. When standing on the dragon's hide, he tossed your things to a guard on the ground, and reached up for you. "I've got you," he assured, easing you down from the saddle.

You grunted lightly when you landed, sighing with slight relief, and telling Caraxes in Valyrian, "Though that was incredible, it is nice to be on the ground again."

The dragon snorted a bit as if in humor, his master smirking as he shouldered your bags. "Come," he ushered, bags strategically placed in front of the tented fabric of his crotch.

Your hand wrapped around his bicep and had to hustle some to keep up with his strong stride, but then an idea came to mind. You looked around the streets you were passing through to reach the Red Keep, finding the one you were in deserted. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you quickly sidestepped into an alcove and yanked Daemon behind you.

Before he could question you, your hands pushed against his shoulders so he was against the stone wall, and only gave him a moment to breathe before your lips were sucking over his. Daemon's throat released a moan while you pushed the straps of your bags from his shoulders, then sliding up to his short hair to twist your fingers between.

Daemon, like a man starving, kissed you with overwhelming need; tongue instantly lapping with your own as his hands held you tightly by your waist, hips, up to your jaw; raking through your own hair, and doing everything they could to keep you close.

Your hips rolled forward into his, making his lungs inhale sharply, and his fingers to bruise your flesh deliciously. With a low growl, Daemon turned you both, shoving you into the brick as if his resolve was crumbling; moaning into your mouth when you tugged his locks.

"Daemon," you panted lightly, petting your fingertips down his cheek.

"Yes, my love?" He whispered, licking into your mouth again.

You hummed, hand moving to steel around his neck and jaw to force his lips off yours. "Listen to me," you grinned, clinging to him as if a young Lady - new to love. He nodded, nose nuzzling yours. "The estate is settled, and the new Lord reigns. Everything went to plan, my Dragon."

"He's buried?" Daemon checked, switching to his native tongue in case of anyone lingering. "Gone?"

"Gone from us," you promised, caressing his cheek after. "I am yours, my love..."

"Fucking finally," he groaned, surging forward again to capture your lips in a grinning-kiss. "You're all I've ever wanted, my princess. Fuck..."

"The moment it's acceptable, I will marry you," you promised, kissing him again.

"My love," he chuckled, pecking your lips happily, "if you do not control yourself, I will take you right here."

You sighed with a small whine, bottom lip pouted. "Sounds ravishing."

"My dirty girl," he seethed, kissing you once and forcing himself away. "Gods," he paused, breathing through his nose as he tried to force the blood from his engorged cock - but nearly crumpled when your hand palmed over him. "Dove - "

"I will thank your brother for welcoming me back," you promised, giving a squeeze, "and then I will fuck you all night. Three weeks was far too long."

"How we went a decade, I'll never know," he cleared his throat, losing the battle to press into your working hand. "Sweetheart..."

"Do not lose this," you purred against his mouth, "I want you to cum in my mouth first."

Daemon whimpered when you let go, biting your lip with a knowing grin. "Dangerous woman," he cursed, forehead to yours. "And now I must see my brother? Like this? Truly?"

"Or you can wait for me," you whispered in his ear, "and be naked when I return."

Daemon let his teeth gnash across your neck. "We will see the King," he decided, pulling back to inhale deeply, "and then I will show you where we are residing."

"'We'?" you questioned gently.

He smirked, nodding, "I might've bargained for a better set up for us, my dove."

"What does that mean?"

"A bigger, much more private room," he smirked. "For you and I only."

You fought the grin threatening to overtake your face, "I'd like that."

"Good," he whispered, pecking your lips gently. "You deserve it all, my sweet."

This time, you lifted your chin to let your nose brush up his, "So long as I have you, my Prince, I am overly blessed. You're all I need."

"Good," he beamed, caressing your cheek. "Come, the faster this is over, the sooner I can have you in my mouth."

You smiled and took his arm again; bags on his shoulder once more to cover his trousers, and within minutes, you were entering the Red Keep. Perhaps it was a simple stroke of good luck that Ser Strong was seen, Daemon calling his name.

"Ah, my Prince," the Hand greeted, stealing a glance at you. "And my Lady, what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Do you know where my brother is?"

"In his chambers," Strong answered. "He's not in the best of states at the moment, Your Grace."

Daemon only hummed and lead you past the Hand of the King; barely letting you sputter your thanks before you were pulled around a corner. "Where are we going?" You asked as he lead you to a part of the castle you've never been in before.

"To see the King, and give our thanks," he eased. "Do not fret, my dove, you will need to get used to visiting the King in his private residence."

"Seems out of place for me," you mentioned.

"You will be the Princess of the City, my sweet," he smirked, "and you will never be out of place. Come," he soothed, leading you up to a pair of doors.

An hour later, you and Daemon were bowing out of the room, and leaving Viserys to rest. He asked of your husband's funeral, and when you informed him of your step-son coming to court this season, he was most intrigued to meet the new Lord. He was a kindly old man, and Daemon just smirked proudly as he watched the two of you catch up and chat.

By the end, Viserys was tired, and let you and Daemon take your leave. His raging hard-on had soothed some, no longer requiring your bags to be used to strategically hide his crotch. However, when you left the King, Daemon smirked and laced your hands together before leading you towards a separate tower.

"Love?" You wondered, watching him check up and down the hallway before prying a large portrait from the wall; swinging out to reveal a lone hallway.

"Private, just for us," he muttered, leading you through the doorway, and showing the mechanism that would keep the door secure.

"Who'd you have to kill for this, my Prince?" You sighed patiently, the hallway short, and leading to another door.

"It was closed off," he admitted, "but I convinced Viserys it would be good for us until we're publicly married. It's been renovated during your leave."

"Your brother is doing us too many favors," you frowned slightly, entering the new room. "Gods," you breathed, looking all around in wonder. The room was large, circular, and already fully furnished.

"He's happy to help," Daemon answered, watching you soak in the surprise. "Well? Do you like it?"

"Love it, my Prince," you beamed, nodding in reassurance.

"Good," he nodded. "It's ours if we wish to keep it past our wedding night."

"Maybe," you admitted. "The privacy is to die for."

"Thought you might appreciate it, my dove," he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to peer out of the balcony doors. "It's ours, then."

"For now," you mused.

"Hey?" He let his lips press to your neck.

"Daemon," you turned in his arms, sighing lightly, "have you not given thought to what we are to do after we marry?"

"Besides have babies?" he mused lightly.

"Besides that, yes," you chuckled. "Where we might live, Daemon. You are second son, and I am but a daughter - set to marry for the second time. There are no lands in my name," you sighed, petting over his chest, "and I cannot offer you anything."

"You are enough for me, my love," he promised. "And we can live where we choose - that I promise you. Worry not," he sighed lightly, leaning in to press his lips to your forehead.

"What of the Stepstones?" You wondered, chin pressed to his sternum as he hummed.

"What of them, my sweet? To live?"

"Are you not King there?" You teased lightly. "Maybe it has the making for a new kingdom... Just needs a bit of man power to ensure it goes to plan, hmm?"

Daemon nodded, "Only problem, my love, is that the Stepstones are temperamental and unpredictable. Hardly a place to raise a family."

"Where would you raise our children?"

He paused a moment to consider your words, asking, "In truth?"

"Please."

He sighed, "Perhaps... On Dragonstone, but with family around. I grew with my brother, mother, father, cousins - aunts, uncles..."

You nodded sadly, "Perhaps we could..." Your shoulders shrugged lightly, "Stay here? Where you are with your brother?"

"No," he spoke with conviction, pulling your face to his so he could see you in full, "for this is not a city to raise a family in. Our children will be free of the burdens this capital brings."

You nodded, "So, where, my Prince?"

He chuckled, "I hear Lys is nice."

"And Pentos," you added.

"And parts of Essos."

"Maybe even Dorne."

"Maybe not," he chuckled lightly. "Wherever we want to go, my sweet, we will. For now, do not fret, we have time to plan our next move."

"Being a wedding," you smirked.

"Hmm," he paused, "no, I believe it would first be to court you - then I'll marry you."

You chuckled and rocked onto your toes, agreeing, "I cannot wait."

"At the end of this season, you will be mine," he beamed, nuzzling his nose with yours. "And I might start actually thanking the Seven."

"Oh," you laughed, watching his lips almost involuntarily spread, "it's that serious, is it? Moved to religion, are you?"

Daemon smirked and leaned in close, slowly kissing you before whispering, "I've finally got the woman of my dreams, yeah... Yeah, I'm moved to religion, my princess. I've waited too long for this."

Your throat felt thicker than before, your toes pushing you up to wrap your arms around his neck; burrowing into his warmth, and feeling his arms tighten around you. "You'll never be without me," you promised him, petting down the back of his head before threading your fingers through his short locks. "I love you, Daemon..."

He breathed a sigh of relief, lips puckering to place a kiss along your shoulder, "I love you more, my sweet dove."

part three: Darkening Hour

Midnight Calls masterlist

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[theold-ultraviolence]

Two thoughts, both for the canondad!Aemond kids.

First, concerning the reader: we know how Aemond is with his kids and them courting/whatnot but what advice does she give? Does she have to give the awkward pre-wedding-night talk? Does she catch Aegon trying to take Aeron to the Street of Silk and how exactly does she strangle her brother-in-law when it happens? Does Vaella go to ask her questions before her wedding about if Aemond’s injury ever bothered her (since Vaella has now also lost an eye)

Connecting to the lost eye and going back to Aemond. I can totally see him trying to help her with her prosthetic. She wants one as quickly as possible after everything happens and he’s having to hold her back because she’ll hurt herself. Then when she can finally get it he teaches her how to put it in/take it out and keep us safe/clean and just Them BondingTM over it would probably be so devastating but also healing for both of them.

'How exactly does she strangle her brother-in-law' ldkfjskjglkj I love this. Thank you so much for your interest in my silly little au!! I'm happy that this is the second time I'm asked about the reader in this situation. I feel like it's easier for all to enjoy dad!Aemond and we often forget about the counterpart! The following hcs follow these previous ones about Aemond's children courting, but now these will be centered around the reader. I'm also gonna include Vaella's missing eye which is a reference to this drabble.

Aemond's children: courting headcanons, part II. part I

Elaena:

As we know, the one who won Elaena's hand in combat against her, was her childhood friend, to Elaena's secret relief, as she had been burying all the pining she felt for him underneath her armors.

But Muña always knew. You saw the spark between the two children ever since they were very young, playing together in the gardens and later training together. You felt immense ease knowing that your eldest daughter would be loved as she deserved, that she wouldn't be married off to a stranger.

But, that's the thing. Elaena isn't marrying a stranger, she's marrying her friend. Unlike with some other lord, Elaena loves this man, so suddenly, all these intrusive thoughts about her being a disappointing wife flood her mind.

That her husband will only see her as a friend and never really desire her, and that being betrothed will mean that their friendship will suffer.

All of those thoughts are rushing through Elaena's nervous self the second the arrangement is made, so she goes to you.

"But, muña, he's my best friend. He only sees me as such. Someone to train and ride horses with. He sees me as a child with dirt-stained dresses and hair sticking out of my braids. How could he ever desire me?"

You just chuckle and shake your head, taking Elaena in your arms as you sit together by the fireplace. "My darling, has he ever actually said any of this to you?" Elaena ponders for a moment and shakes her head. "Well then, who's to say that the things that are going through your mind aren't going through his? he's probably just as worried as you are." Elaena just looks down at her lap, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Elaena, look at me. Do you desire him?" She nods without a second thought. "Well, chances are, he does too. The way I see it, your arrangement is ideal, my dear. Who would make a better lover, a better husband, than one who already knows you so intimately? One who is your friend? this is but the next step in your relationship, a new layer of yourselves you are about to discover together."

Elaena then takes a deep breath before looking up at you again, "Muña...will it hurt?" Elaena needn't say more.

"At first, yes. But it will feel good after a moment. He'll have to be patient and gentle, which I've no doubt he will, but if there is ever a moment where you feel discomfort or pain, you need to say it."

Still, Elaena appears nervous, and it occurs to you that this is the first time you've seen her this anxious. Suddenly she had become a little girl again; she wasn't even this afraid when she rode on Vaghar with Aemond for the first time. For someone who'd built herself to be indestructible, Elaena rarely dared to show anyone how vulnerable she felt sometimes.

"Elaena, do you love him?" you gently frame her face with your hands as she nods. "Does he love you?" again, she nods. "Then it will feel amazing. It's not about technique or prowess, it's about who you're with. I've seen the way you look at each other, my darling girl. You have nothing to worry about. But if things take a turn, you know you can always come to me or your kepa. We will always be there, even if you feel like you can protect yourself. You're not alone."

The day of the wedding is absolutely beautiful. Both you and Aemond are overcome with melancholy from seeing your little girl turned into a beautiful woman. But you can breathe when you see the amount of love pouring from Elaena and her husband's eyes, the way they can't stop holding onto their hands for the rest of the celebrations.

After the wedding, you don't see Elaena for an entire week.

At first Aemond and you were worried, but when you went to their apartments to enquire, Elaena's lady-in-waiting assured you that there was absolutely nothing to worry about and that the princess and her new lord husband had ordered for the staff to not disturb them until further notice.

Vaella

Vaella losing her eye was like, an au of my au lol, but now I'm rolling with it. First, some thoughts Re: Aemond and Vaella bonding over keeping up her prosthetic eye.

As soon as she healed, she asked Aemond if she could have a sapphire eye to match his. Aemond felt a mix of pride and also regret because, he was honored she'd want to wear a symbol to forever connect her to him, but he also hates the fact that she has to.

Aemond keeps telling her that she can have her own sapphire eye, but she'll have to wait. Aemond would want to scout for the prettiest one - bigger than his own, for Vaella's eyes are bigger than his - and even more perfect in its cut.

So Aemond takes his time in looking, even asking if she'd want something else to replace the sapphire, but Vaella is adamant.

And so unlike her, she begins to feel a little bit desperate.

Her betrothed has been informed of her accident; the message had been sent to him all the way to the north as soon as Vaella was healing. He replied immediately, telling her that he'd go to the Red Keep as soon as possible.

And Vaella doesn't want to be seen like this, bedridden and weak.

She starts getting anxious and restless, chewing on her lip and staring at the window, dreading the arrival of her betrothed. It was so unlike her. It's made worse when Aemond finally arrives with the perfect sapphire but tells Vaella she'll have to wait for a little longer or else she'll hurt herself more. Her wound still needs a little bit more time, and she has to put on her prosthetic with patience and care.

Her betrothed arrives before she has the chance to put it on.

She's weakly waiting for him in the halls of the Red Keep, holding onto her muña's arm for support - both physical and emotional. For now, she's only wearing a white cotton eyepatch, with some pretty embroidered details on the edges.

"He hasn't seen me like this, what if he dislikes me now? who would want me like this?"

"Vaella Targaryen, stop that nonsense." You tell her. "Has your father's lack of an eye made you love him less? Have you ever seen me recoil from him because of it?"

"No...but he...he's kepa. And I'm just me..."

"Stop it, child. You are beautiful. Your family loves you and your betrothed will. If he does not, then he is not suited for you and we'll make sure to dismiss him at once."

"Muña...? can I ask you something?"

"Did you ever feel weirded out by Kepa? did...did it hurt him? you know...during...I'm just afraid. I'm afraid of how it will feel when I'm with him...I'm afraid of it hurting, or him feeling repulsed by me."

You laugh and look at her with nothing but love and conviction.

"My darling, it has never repulsed me. It's just another part of your kepa, something that makes him, him. Another part of him to love. And if your betrothed loves you the way I love your father, you'll feel safe and wanted. It won't hurt you, as long as he's careful with you. Your father has never been hurt when we're intimate, and it's a matter of constantly making sure he's comfortable and him not exerting himself. Communication is key, my sweet."

Vaella's pondering over your words stops, for in comes her betrothed, still donning all of his lavish, heavy furs despite the heat in King's Landing. He seems out of breath as he rushes inside the hall, and runs the moment he spots Vaella. Vaella weakly lets go of your hand and meets him halfway, as he embraces her in a tight hug.

"Careful of her injury." You solemnly command, a bit weary of the man being rude to Vaella. But your heart eases the moment his rough touch becomes gentle, as he frames Vaella's face delicately and looks at her with big, watery eyes, kissing the stretch of a scar that peaks from under her eyepatch.

"My light, my beautiful love" he murmurs into the side of her head as he hugs her, and Vaella melts into his embrace, clinging tightly to him.

After a few days, Aemond finally lets her put on the sapphire eye. Her betrothed wanted to be there for it, but Aemond had shot him with a death glare. This was a private moment between father and daughter.

Aemond cleans up the sapphire and washes his hands before sitting in front of Vaella, and very meticulously inserting the sapphire in her eye socket. As he does it, he tells her all about the procedure, how to keep the prosthetic clean, how to take it off, etc. "Did that hurt?"

"Only a little pinch." She says as she rolls her eyes to test out the feeling of the sapphire on her face. "Feels a little odd."

"You'll get used to it."

After that, Vaella's betrothed knocks on the door, looking very humbled, bowing to Aemond and asking for him to explain how to care for Vaella's eye. What they don't know is that his betrothed had spoken with you while they were inside, asking you the very same thing Vaella had. If she would get hurt, how to make her feel comfortable.

This immediately earned him a lot of points in your book, and you could sigh with relief over your daughter marrying someone as caring as he. So by the time the day of her wedding came, and Vaella kept getting flustered and nervous, you could only laugh fondly and continue to reassure her.

When Vaella gets married, she does so proudly displaying her new sapphire eye.

And the morning after, she sits at the table with a new air of confidence about her. A certain kind of glow as she sits beside her new lord husband, no longer shrinking her shoulders or sitting quietly.

Aeron

One night you hear some ruckus outside of yours and Aemond's apartments, and you instantly recognize the voices belonging to Aegon and your son, Aeron.

You grumble as you get out of bed, put on a robe, and step outside.

Aegon is shaking his nephew's shoulders, seeming already a bit tipsy as he whispers, "It is time, nephew! you do want to know how to please your soon-to-be lady wife, don't you!? I'm telling you the only way to know is to - "

"AEGON!" you shout, "what are you doing?"

"Giving the boy a pre-wedding gift, that's what!"

"Absolutely, no! Aeron I forbid you to go with your uncle! I know exactly what kind of gift he speaks of!"

Aeron just looks like he wants to laugh from how angry you look, yanking him away from his uncle, who's looking all stupefied by the fact that you had the nerve to yell at him the way you do.

"Come on, I only want what's best for the boy. Don't you want the same!?" Aegon keeps on slurring, and if your temperature wasn't running high, you'd laugh at the way he's staggering down the hall to keep up with you, as you take Aeron back to your rooms.

"Precisely. Which is why he's never to follow along your depraved ideas of gifts!"

You bring Aeron back to your rooms and shake his shoulders, "were you actually planning on following your uncle!?"

Aeron is just speechless, half scared of his mother, and half amused over the whole encounter.

"Well!? answer me, son!"

"No! Of course not!"

"Aeron Targaryen don't you ever take advice from your uncle about women, you hear me? you come straight to your father or me!"

"You?"

You just look at him as if he's grown another head. "What's wrong with that!?"

"No offense, mother, but that would be so embarrassing..."

You roll your eyes and sigh, half understanding of Aeron's hesitance but also frustrated. "Fine, don't talk to me then, but please, talk to your father. Unlike your uncle, your father knows how to treat a woman properly."

Internally you laugh at the face Aeron makes, cringing at the implications.

"I promise, muña...”

"Go back to sleep then! this isn't a proper hour for a prince to be up!"

Time passes and Aeron finally gets married. And it seems as though his lady wife was as hard to figure out in the bedroom, as she was while Aeron first began courting her.

The first few times the both of them came down to dine with the family, Aeron had this defeated aura surrounding him. You never brought it up to either Aemond or Aeron himself, but you knew.

Each day that passed he looked more and more lost inside his head, wandering aimlessly around the halls. Often he opened his mouth and looked as though he was about to ask you something but quickly refrained.

One evening over a shared cup of tea, you finally decide to ask.

"How has it been with your lady wife? Have you settled into marital life well, my love?"

Aeron remains quiet, eying his cup of tea for an eternal moment until he takes a deep intake of breath and spills all his worries in one go.

"Muña, I -" "I'm a bit lost and I'm too embarrassed to ask kepa. I don't want to disappoint him. But I..."

You're just smiling, ever so patient with your son.

"I just don't know what I'm doing! what do I do!? I can't seem to figure out how to...how to, um...please my lady wife..."

"What did I tell you?" you couldn't help it. You just had to throw that to him, but all in good nature. He sighs and slumps on his seat, covering his eyes in shame. But you discard your tea and rise to take a seat beside him, taking his hands away from his face.

"Don't worry, my love. I never ever wish to make you feel uncomfortable, nor do I ever want you to feel like there are things we cannot discuss. You can talk to me about anything and everything. Now, what's this I hear about your lady wife? what seems to be the problem?"

Aeron eases from your kind words and then proceeds to vent out his feelings. He confesses that he feels awkward, regardless of how much he loves her. That all the things he's overheard from other young lords or even Aegon himself just don't seem to bring her any pleasure.

"Don't think about what you're supposed to do. Think about her, first and foremost. Think about her pleasure. Ask her to show you, and if she doesn't know herself, you can discover it together. It's all about patience. Also, nobody arrives at it already knowing. It is a never-ending learning curve. Bodies change, and people change. There is always something new to discover about the other. Always remember, intimacy is not an act or a demonstration of your manhood. It's something to enjoy, and to show love."

Aeron embraces you afterward, feeling an immense weight lift from his shoulders.

Several moons pass, and one night, you're once again awakened by a ruckus coming from outside.

But when you go out to inspect, you stop dead in your tracks and rush back into your rooms immediately, burying yourself under the covers to drown out the noise.

It seems you had given Aeron some pretty amazing advice, and soon the entirety of the Red Keep would know about it.

[rere-the-writer]

NSFW Headcanons for Elijah Mikaelson being married? Can reader be a short and some kind of supernatural creature? Perhaps a Japanese supernatural creature? Thank you I just love your Headcanons for Elijah

Yes and yes starting off with SFW Headcanons

Warnings: Fluff, NSFW, Short protective wife

You met Elijah back in 1756

Your first meeting wasn't on the best terms, you tried to kill him and for Elijah it was love at first sight

Elijah learning how to court an oni, this man loves a woman that can kick his ass

Noble loving vampire and angry small oni courting is a surprise to everyone

Having a very traditional Japanese wedding, Elijah wanting to give you a piece of your homeland

Elijah finds your small horns cute and careful to not touch them seeing how sensitive they are

Elijah braiding your hair or helping putting it up

Your oni form is just gorgeous to Elijah finding your ligh blue tone lovely against his

You beating the crap out of those who threaten your husband and family

"Oni are kinda violent but my wife is a sweetheart, Hayley." "Your wife laughed while watching vampires bleed out."

Elijah is blind to whatever violence you had done not because he is foolish but because he loves you too much

Elijah will spare with you, just so you could throw him around or pin him down

This man's biggest kink is being suffocated by your thighs and he doesn't care how or why

"Will you yield?" "No." Elijah would answer muffled by your thighs

Elijah finding out just how sensitive your horns are in bed, watching you melt under him when he gently rubs a horn

Elijah takes great pleasure in seeing how small you look under him

Finding out you have bit of a size kink and Elijah is more that happy to indulge you

Elijah making you ride his face for hours since he adores being between your thighs

Choke him, Elijah will be so submissive so fast

Elijah feeding from you while in bed there is something hearing you cry out in pure pleasure when biting you

Elijah willing to go whatever pace you want, fast and rough or slow and sweet

Elijah favorite position is any one that let's him see your face

Now Elijah doesn't do public sex but if there is someone flirting or undermine him as your husband, Elijah is pulling you into the nearest room

Elijah has a small breeding kink after the birth of Hope

Call him Sir in the bedroom and watch him just lose it

Jealous primal sex when any of his brothers playfully flirts with you or if someone tries to steal you away from him

Elijah marking up your thighs both fingers prints and hickies are on your skin

"Look at you Princess, tears running down your face."

Elijah has a goal of making sure you are teary-eyed and shaking at the end of the night

You choking on him is his favorite sound other than your screams

Elijah will and has fucked you on any surface

Wearing his shirts is a sure way to turn him on

Lace and thigh highs? Yes Sir his new favorite on you

Making you ride his thigh when he is busy with paper work

You pulling his hair to make him go faster

Elijah tried tieing you down but you broke free leading to a wild night

You pouncing on Elijah if he had been gone for too long

You pinning Elijah down feeling jealous of Hayley's flirting

"Is my Princess going to cum again?"

Overstimulation is Elijah favorite thing to do to you something about seeing you so desperate was just delicious to him

You making Elijah beg to touch you when you take control

Elijah has a secret praise kink that you learned by accident

Elijah buying you French lingerie only fair seeing how he would tear off the others

Elijah just adoring you and you just loving your husband more than anything