#I will never not hold this with me every time I think of my grandmothers passing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neteyamsilly · 1 year

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5

summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼

“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”

“I won’t fail.” Not again.

“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?”

“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”

“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”

It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you.

“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”

Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree.

No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating.

Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child.

And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness.

This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.

Now, he had nothing.

Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered.

Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through.

Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know.

No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining.

Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat.

Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened.

Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way.

Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.

Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him.

The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’

Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”

Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay.

He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”

Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive.

“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”

Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said.

Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.”

Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”

Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“

“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?”

Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”

His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.

“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”

Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”

“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.

Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”

But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”

Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”

“Rest.”

“But—”

“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”

God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”

“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”

Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.

Jake knew where this was going. “What is?”

“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”

There it is.

Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout.

“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”

Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”

“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”

‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”

“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.”

And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right.

He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later —

The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.

The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other.

The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes.

The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied.

The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.

The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.

And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was.

All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration.

“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”

He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know.

Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you?

Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it?

If he failed, this would be it.

“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.”

He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment.

“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.”

From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.”

Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.”

He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.”

He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.”

A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You?

“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.”

He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”

Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.

Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent?

“I see you.”

The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented.

The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.

Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.

The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs.

Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt.

He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up.

“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”

So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.

That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.

He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair.

“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.”

The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.”

Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.”

You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble.

In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him.

“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”

Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”

But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”

You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”

“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”

“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”

“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”

In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.”

Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”

“That’s a lie.”

Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”

“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”

“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.”

You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”

“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”

You deadpanned. “But I always do.”

“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”

“That’s not—”

“Sweetheart.”

“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”

“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”

“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”

“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”

You avoided eye contact.

Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”

You murmured. “Okay.”

“Are we clear?”

You murmured once more. “Yeah.”

“Repeat it, then.”

There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”

“Dad will never hate you.”

Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”

“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”

“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”

“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”

“You’re giving me a lot of power.”

“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.”

The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”

You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”

“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”

You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”

“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”

The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”

A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”

“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”

“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”

“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.”

“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”

“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”

That made him pause. “Jack?”

“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”

He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”

“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.”

“Oh you little shit—”

“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”

“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”

“Jackiri—”

“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”

“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”

“All people, of course.”

“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.”

“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”

“Jack of All Trades.”

“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”

“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”

“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”

You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. .

But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree.

Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting.

A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from.

Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance.

He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again.

Once again.

You will only have one chance.

“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”

Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

@thotd-f1 @httpjiikook @nipoxe @fussel9913 @gloryekaterina @nxptury @thesheelfsworld @heyyitsmaiaa @anyasullyyy @rey26 @in-luvais @em-100 @n7cje @kpopslur @holysaladapricothero @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @maviee @grxcisxhy-wp @me-marilm @n39ro-chann

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader

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hbyrde36 · 2 months

Text

STWG Daily Prompt 3/9/24

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild

Prompt: Bite

Rating: G | WC: 867

Emotional hurt/comfort, Steve Harrington's parents being the worst, the best uncle Wayne Munson, supportive boyfriend Eddie Munson, the party loves Steve Harrington

Steve had given up on his dad long ago, he was never going to be the kind of man Richard Harrington had always wanted his sons to grow up and be, but he’d held out hope for his mom—hope that someday she would learn to love him the way she loved his brother.

More than ten years between them, and the fact that the Harrington’s had moved to Hawkins only after Christopher had graduated high school and gone off to college, meant no one really knew Steve had a sibling.

The party, Robin, Eddie—especially Eddie because how could they have been dating for over a year now and him somehow still not know about this—were all stunned to learn of the existence of another young Harrington.

He hadn’t meant to tell them at all, but then Christopher and their parents made a surprise visit home so that his brother could take possession of their grandmother’s ring and pop the question to his girlfriend of a whopping 9 months. Less time than he and Eddie had been seeing each other and didn’t that get under Steve's skin to know he’d never get to propose to his boyfriend with a family heirloom, not only because gay marriage wasn’t legal, but because his parents would never dream of handing down a piece of jewelry to their least favorite son.

Steve wound up having to make the rounds, letting everyone know movie night was canceled because his brother was in town. Naturally they all wanted explanations for why this was the first they were learning of this mysterious person, and by the time he got to Eddie’s place, Steve was a mess.

Years of mistreatment and neglect bubbled to the surface, and not just the big things but the little sniping comments, the small injustices—inequities between the way Mr. and Mrs. Harrington spoke of their older son vs their younger—hurt feelings that he’d pushed all the way down in order to function, in order to put a fucking smile on his face and hide the fact that he was damaged goods who not even a mother could love.

It all came spilling out of him on Eddie’s bedroom floor as his boyfriend held him, rocked him, was his rock, tethering him to the earth.

When it was all over and Steve was calm, Eddie asked him why he still spoke to them, why he still lived in their house when he and Wayne had both–on separate occasions–invited him to live with them instead.

“They’re my family.” Steve said, shrugging. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Of course you do, Stevie. You always have a choice. If you were to decide right here and now that you never wanted to see or speak to them again, you are allowed to do that. You hold all the power here. I’ll support you in whatever you decide, but I have to say in my humble opinion, they never deserved you.”

Steve took the night to think about it, though in the instant Eddie had said the words, given Steve the power to take control of his own life, he’d known what he was going to do. It was his life, he could do with it as he wished. He was already doing that with almost every other part of it, so why was he still letting his mom and dad hold any power over him? Why did he subject himself to their passive aggressive comments and disappointed glares?

In the end he never went back, not even to get his stuff. Wayne and Eddie did it for him, leaving behind his keys and his beloved car.

A small price to pay for freedom.

He called the next day and left a final message on the answering machine.

“Please leave your message after the beep.”

“Hey mom. You’re the hardest one to say goodbye to, the last member of this family I held out hope for so you’ll have to forgive me for not doing this in person. My car keys are on the table by the front door. I know the BMW is in dad’s name and I know he wouldn’t want me keeping it under the circumstances.”

“I am no longer a Harrington. I’m sure you won’t mind because you barely thought of me as one to begin with but it’s official now. I’m moving on, and moving in with my boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend, because I am nothing if not a consistent disappointment.”

“It took me longer to see it with you because I've witnessed the way you care for the people around you, most of them anyway, and what you’ve done for this community.”

“You are a good person, except when you’re not. And you were a great mom, just not to me.”

There was no bite in his words, just a sad truth finally spoken aloud.

Steve hung up the phone feeling lighter than he ever had in his whole life, and sat down to dinner with the people who really loved him. His found family, who’d all dropped whatever they were doing at a moments notice to throw him an impromptu moving-in party at his new home with Eddie and Wayne.

Thanks to my beloved @penny00dreadful for having a look over this 🥰

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington's parents #steddie fic #wayne munson my beloved #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #fanfic

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itsbeeble · 6 months

Note

I saw your post about having Bang Chan brain rot and honestly, same. He has filled every waking thought I've had for the last year and I'm big mad over it.

So my fic rec is a little angsty/suggestive with him being as obsessed with y/n as we all are with him. Like, he's angry that he can't focus on work because he's too busy thinking about them but can't have them for whatever reason. All the features he possesses that we love that he can't see in himself are exactly what draws him to y/n. (I feel like crushing on Chan is an exercise in learning to love yourself, and that's a lesson he needs to learn as well).

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME I LITERALLY FELL TO THE FLOOR WHEN I FIRST SAW IT (that first statement is so real actually)

OBSESSIVE

Summary: Chan has always been obsessed with you, but he's been too afraid to act on it until now.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x (implied)fem!reader

Warnings: a little angsty but mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive, some uhhh sexual themes but there's no actual smut or anything, small make out scene teehee, swearing, insecurities briefly mentioned, I think that's it

WC: 2462

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

A/N: guys look it didn't take me 10 years to post! Also i'm gonna add to my masterlist a "Brainrot" section bc i'm not officially gonna write for certain groups but fuck do i get brainrot

Chan is restless in his studio, staring at the walls in front of him unable to focus. He can’t get his brain to work, to think, to do something.

It’s your fault. He knows it’s your fault, but he can’t figure out why. Had you said something to him? Had you done something?

No. The answer is no, you hadn’t done anything to him. At least not technically.

In fact, it’s more him that's the problem.

It’s almost unhealthy the way he’s obsessed with you. Unhealthy and almost annoying considering that you hardly ever give him the light of day.

Chan adores you. Adores the way you don’t care about what anyone else thinks of you, the way you laugh too loudly, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, and the way you can hold conversations so easily. He adores the way you never seem to care about looking put together, dressing in whatever you find comfortable that day, and somehow still looking beautiful.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about anyone before. He hates the swirling in his stomach, the way his heart beats faster, and the way he can always tell when you’re close to him whether you want him to know or not. Chan can always tell from the smell of your perfume, that sweet, subtle scent you’ve worn since the day you met him in your days as trainees.

These emotions…he shouldn’t be feeling them. Not about you, his best friend. His confidant. The one person he can trust to always be there for him, for everything. He’s tried so hard to will these emotions away, to force himself to like other people. He’s tried hookups, blind dates, dating apps. He’s tried imagining it was his grandmother instead of you whenever his thoughts dive into dangerous territory.

And no, the grandmother thoughts didn’t work. His thoughts kept returning to you, how you would look under him. How you would look with your hair splayed out, your hand cupping his cheeks, and your lips sending him the sweet smile that you seem to reserve for him.

Fuck, he’s doing it again.

Chan takes a deep breath, sipping at the day-old water and grimacing at the stale taste in his mouth. His computer screen is still blank, the screen off from the time he’s spent staring into space and thinking of you.

A knock on the door and then you’re slipping in quietly with a plastic go-cup filled with iced coffee.

“Hey.”

Your greeting is simple, but you flash that smile and Chan’s heart starts doing flips. He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way, hates that he gets nervous whenever you’re around.

He feels you at his side, your arm on the back of his chair, fingertips brushing against his shoulder and sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He turns his head, angling his neck to look up at you.

You with your calm eyes, with your gentle brushes against his skin, and the way you somehow soothe the storm that you caused inside of him.

The cup in your hand is angled toward him, and he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t be drinking that, you know,” it’s almost instinctive how he scolds you, a frown on his face when you just roll your eyes and pull the cup away from him. “Especially right now. You should be asleep, Y/N.”

“So should you,” you hum, rolling your shoulders back and wincing when something cracks.

“I’m working.” He nods his head at the computer, and you raise an eyebrow at the black screen.

“I can see that. Working very hard, just like you always are.”

Your hand raises to his head, ruffling the soft strands of hair. Chan clicks his tongue and pulls away from you. Your hand drops down to your side, and your small drops slightly. Barely noticeable, but enough for Chan to feel a pang in his chest. He rolls his chair back slightly, spinning it to face you. You pull a chair up, sitting directly across from him, and delicately place your coffee in an empty space on his crowded desk.

Chan feels your knees brush against his, and heat scorches his body again. Why do you do this to him? Is it on purpose? Do you know he loves you more than a best friend should?

“Are you okay, Channie?” You lean toward him, the open part of your button-down shirt dipping to expose more skin. You would think he’s never been around a woman before.

He clears his throat, tries to look at you, and then clears his throat again. You’re biting at your lip now your eyebrows furrowed together in thought.

He leans away from you when you lean toward him. Your knees are between his thighs now, unbeknownst to you but he is all too aware of it. You rise from your chair, coming closer to him and standing between his legs. One of his hands twitches, fighting to raise just a little bit to touch the side of your leg.

“You seem a little feverish,” your hand is cold against his skin, and he almost chokes on the air he’d been struggling to inhale without the sweet scent of you overpowering his lungs and making him do unthinkable things. Your lips are twisted into a pout, your hand moving to his forehead and then his cheek.

It takes Chan a moment to realize that he’s grabbed your wrist.

It takes another moment for him to realize that his lips are against the back of your hand.

Another moment and you haven’t pushed him away. Is it shock? Are you too disgusted to do anything? Fuck, why did he have to do that?

“Y/N—” he’s stumbling over his words, trying to grasp any thought that runs through his brain. An apology, hopefully. “I’m so— I didn’t mean—”

Your lips are on his before he can say another word. It was a quick, fleeting kiss. Heat of the moment, maybe.

You pull back, just far enough to look him in the eyes.

Chan opens his mouth, ready to speak again.

The door slams shut. The space you stood in is empty. Chan’s heart sinks to his stomach, his skin still warm where you touched him.

“Fuck”

It’s three days before Chan hears from or sees you. Three days of absolute radio silence. No one forcing him to stop working, to look away from the screen and lay on the couch for a while. No wild laughter, random coffee dates. Nothing, and he knows why.

He knows you’ve been avoiding him. It’s not that difficult to figure it out. Whatever happened that night…it scared both of you. What frustrates him isn’t the subtle rejection. No, he could never be mad at you for that. He loves you too much to be angry about that.

No, he’s mad about the fact that you’re running from this. You who regularly gets into heated arguments with the staff when they’re working him and the other members too hard. You who always accepts when you’re in the wrong, actively seeking a solution. You who has never had problems with communicating your emotions. He’s angry that the one time he needs you to communicate with him, you disappear. Now, after three days of you avoiding him, he isn’t quite sure he wants to see you anymore. He wouldn’t have minded if you told him you hated him for what happened.

Radio silence is…quite possibly the last thing he expected.

A knock on his door jolts him out of his thoughts. Three raps, then two, and the door opens. He knows it’s you by the shuffling of your feet against the ground and the sound of ice against plastic. You come to stand near him. Not next to him, no, it’s like you can sense the anger in him.

Or you can hear the angry typing.

“What are you working on?” Your voice is quiet, so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it.

He doesn’t respond, at least not at first. The typing doesn’t slow, and he hears a small exhale from you.

“Chan?” Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and the typing stops. You drop your hand to your side, biting your tongue and forcing the tears back. “Channie, can you please talk to me?” He turns to look at you, trying to hold back all of the emotions he’s been feeling these past three days.

“About what?” He plays dumb. Maybe if he acts like nothing happened, you’ll just drop it and you can start avoiding each other and he can move on from you.

“About…about what happened.” Your voice shakes, and he almost feels bad.

Scratch that, he does feel bad.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Chan dismisses, “You made it clear how you feel and that’s fine. We can forget about it.” He avoids your gaze now, but he hears a sniffle coming from you. Hears a sob that you made a poor attempt at concealing. He looks at you again, and your hand is over your mouth while you try to calm yourself. He bites the side of his tongue, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily.

“Come here,” he raises his hand and lazily beckons you over to him. You don’t move at first, still focused on calming yourself. “Y/N, come here.”

Your steps are slow, almost nervous about approaching him, and suddenly all the anger is washed away from Chan’s body. All he can think about is the fact that he’s made you cry, made you upset, and he wants to fix it.

“Why are you crying, pretty?” You’re standing in front of him, all too similarly to three days ago. Your cup has been placed to the side again, next to his keyboard, and your hands are in his.

“I feel like…” your voice is thick with emotion, tears rolling down your cheeks that Chan wants nothing more than to kiss away. “I feel like I messed everything up.”

“How could you possibly think that?” Your best friend frowns.

“I— I kissed you.” Your sentences are stuttered. “I fe—feel like I me—messed everyth—everything up. You— You’re my bes—best friend, Channie.”

“Look at me,” he holds his hand to your chin, tilting your head to look down at him. “You did nothing wrong. In case you forgot, I kissed you first.”

“But that was diffe—different!” You cry, yanking your hands out of his grip and turning your back on him. Chan rises from his chair, carefully watching your movements. “I kissed you!”

He’s curious now. “Do you think I hate you because of that?”

You turn around, and a gasp escapes you. He’s only a few inches from you, his breath kissing your cheeks. You can see a dark tinge on his tanned skin. Was he blushing? Was he mad?

“I— I mean—” Chan steps toward you again, practically backing you into the wall.

“Because you’d be wrong,” he continues. “In fact, it’s probably made me even worse.”

What? “Chan— what does that—”

“I’ve been obsessed with you from the day that I met you, Y/N.” Here goes nothing. Chan takes a deep breath before continuing. “Everything you do, everything you say. I’m addicted to you. You know, I couldn’t tell at first if I envied you. It was the way you carried yourself, the confidence you had in every little thing. The way you fought so hard for the things that you loved and the people you cared about. I thought I envied the way you could laugh as loud as you wanted without fearing what other people thought of you.”

You’re against the wall now, but he hasn’t caged you in. No, he leaves you room to escape should you so choose. Your tears have stopped and Chan reaches up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the streaks that were left.

“I was wrong.” His voice is so quiet, so much quieter than he probably intended it to be, but it has a zoo erupting in your stomach. “It wasn’t envy.”

“Then what was it?” Your voice matches his in volume, your eyes flicking from his lips and back up to meet his gaze. He takes a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of your cold hands twisting into the fabric of his shirt, your knuckles brushing against the skin of his stomach. “Channie?”

The way you said his name should’ve been innocent. It should have just grabbed his attention, snapped him out of the spell you’ve cast on him.

The air is knocked out of your chest at the first touch of his lips on yours. It isn’t rough, not by any means.

His lips move smoothly against yours, slow and sure of every move he wants to make as if he’s always going to be two steps ahead of you. One of his hands slides down to cup the back of your head, right at the base to allow him to angle your head and pull your body closer to his. Your hands have tightened into his cotton t-shirt, holding so tightly you’re positive the fabric has stretched.

Your chest is on fire, whether from lack of breath or the emotions running through you like wildfire, you aren’t sure, but you don’t want to stop. You can’t stop. Not when he tastes so good, not when he’s kissing you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing.

A whine escapes you, and you feel his body go rigid. His lips stop moving, and he pulls back from you. You see his chest stuttering as he tries to stop himself from taking deep breaths. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you for a long time.

You don’t have to, though. The drawings he traces into your hip with his finger and the hazy, starstruck look in his eye says enough.

His eyes meet yours when you clear your throat to get his attention.

“So,” your voice is slightly hoarse but you can’t find yourself caring. Not in front of Chan. “You never answered my question.” He bends down, his lips lightly pressing into the skin of your neck. Your breathing hitches, and you feel him smile against you.

“What question was that?” He asks, and his voice is right in your ear, and you can’t help but pull him closer to you.

“What was it that you felt?”

He just laughs against you, finally taking his hand out of your hair.

“You know what it was, pretty. Don’t pretend.”

You smile, your arm coming to wrap around the back of his neck.

Love. It was love, and you knew it the whole time.

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fallingintoyourlilaceyes · 2 months

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My little winter rose (Aemond Targaryen x Little red riding hood!Reader)

synopsis: On your way to visit your grandmother, you meet a handsome stranger that points you towards some lovely flowers. Little do you know what else that aquaintance holds in store for you...

warnings: slight dubcon, p in v sex, mention of severed body parts, afab reader

word count: 2.3k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to the wonderful @slytherincursebreaker for requesting this piece. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it!<3

Dividers by @valeskafics

For as long as you were old enough to roam around Winterfell and the surrounding woods, you heard the same thing every time. "Beware of the one-eyed beast in the woods" or some form of that sentence. You knew it by heart, saying it along every time it was spoken. Yet you had never seen a beast, no matter how often you wandered through the trees you called your second home. However, it also led to you becoming less watchful every time, thus not noticing how the so proclaimed one eyed beast very much saw you. Grew taller as you did with age until he towered over you easily, his mind darkening with thoughts as yours brightened with entirely different ideas. Going unnoticed day after day after day. Another institution set in place that you remember ever since you could think was a group of hunters going out every night. Their torches burning like the fear in their hearts, sharp swords, spears and weapons of any kind held close to their bodies that would always return marred. Sometimes you would hear rumours that people that died at an earlier date were taken by the beast while hunting for it alone.

You understood all of it, though that didn't mean you liked it. The sight of the hunters was one you hated. It was a surprise that with their viciousness the "beast didn't las out more or come closer to the village. Not even all the understanding of the human mind in the world could have saved you from hating the head of the hunters with a passion that burned even brighter than any fire ever could. Howland Reed and his relentless pursuit of trying to win over your affection by bragging about hunts long over and how well equipped he was to hunt the one-eyed.

"Red! Where are you off to?" He yells from a distance to stop you, as he trots over to you. Cursing him out in your mind in return, you oblige and wait for him to catch up with you, putting a smile on your face as you did so. Even the nickname everyone called you due to the red cloak you wore at every given time, sounded so gross from his lips you wanted to puke. "Oh, I am merely off for a visit to my grandmother." You chirp in the politest tone you could muster.

“Well, how lucky I must be to catch you then? You see, I just had some modifications done to keep you safe better.” He presents you with one of his hands and you see exactly what modifications he talked about. His nails had been filed into sharp points and seemingly coated with silver to harden them, just like claws. The pride in his face makes it hard for the polit mask to stay on yours.

“Say, Howland.” You take a deep breath in to keep it together as you speak. “I have been wondering something lately. Mayhaps you will be able to answer the question.”

“Ask me anything you wish and rest assured that the smartest man around will surely give you an answer.” He makes it so hard not to throw up right then and there.

“You are too kind. Now my question is, if you are as smart and strong and skilled in hunting as you proclaim… How come that one-eyed beast has not been slain yet?” You don´t stay to hear his answer, instead you hide a giggle behind your hand and go off on your merry way.

With the light of the early afternoon sun in the sky you have little concerns or cares about the safety of the forest. Humming the sweet tune of a song that you had often sung with your grandmother when you were younger, you skip along the way.

The deeper you get into the wood, the colder it gets and so, while you wrap yourself tighter into the red cloak, you almost run into what you at first think is a tree. As it turns out it is another human, a man and a tall one at that. His silver hair reaches down to the middle of his back, covering one of his eyes and the other you are sure shone in a pretty lavender hue once. If it did it had since dulled to a darker tone. The creases in the pale skin on his face speak volumes on how hard his life must have been. Yet when he looks down to meet your eyes, there is a charming smile set in place.

“My apologies, ser. I should have watched my steps.” You apologize before he even opens his mouth, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes he had ever seen.

“Oh no, by all means, I am the one that has to apologise. You are not the only one that should have watched where they were going.” The beautiful stranger replies in a velvety smooth voice.

"Please, I insist. If I would have stopped for a moment, I would not have run into you." You reiterate. "Alright." The stranger lifts his hands in mock surrender. "May I ask where a young maiden like you is headed? All alone in these big woods." "Well, for one I am not alone. Clearly." You go to answer with a waggish smile. His grin widens in response and his voice deepens for a moment as he speaks. "I would not be so sure that is such a good thing." His words hold a sense of warning that you swiftly ignore to tell him where you were going. "I am on my way to see my dear grandmother. She lives not far from here."

"My, what a sweet girl you are. Your grandmother can count herself lucky to have you." You hadn't even noticed so far, but when he continued speaking his voice registers almost right beside your ear. "If you want to bring her some flowers, the winter roses are blooming beautifully not too far from here in that direction."

You follow his finger with your eyes, to see that it isn't that much of a detour.

"I will be going right away. Thank you, kind stranger." You turn your head back to him.

"Oh no, I have to thank you." He murmurs. “And you may call me Aemond.”

“Aemond…” you test the way the blonds name rolls off your tongue and then let your smile widen as you give him your name.

You happily skip along the way, giving him no chance for further conversations as you only turn once more to wave him farewell.

While you busy yourself with making the most beautiful bouquet of winter roses and greenery, Aemond goes off with a new plan in mind to finally get you.

The task takes you longer than you would have thought and so the sun stands high in the sky when you continue the way to your grandmother's house. It begins to grow dark when you arrive at the small house in the middle of the woods, so it is no wonder you find your grandmother asleep in her bed.

Gently you shake her awake by the arm. “Grandmother, are you well? I came to visit you." "My sweet girl, is it really you?" The old woman's voice sounds different than normal, though you can't quite put your fingers on the exact way it does. "It is. I brought you some flowers and a cake I baked." You set down the flowers in a vase on the bed side table and sit on the edge of the mattress beside her. "Oh, you are so good to me. Come, lay down. You came all this way and I could not possibly send you home in the darkness." Without any questions you obey her, pulling off the cape and dress until you are only left in your small clothes. Through the thin fabric the cold air makes your nipples harden and so you hurry to climb underneath the blanket.

Once in bed, you notice the long scar over the left side of her face, with the eye seemingly missing entirely. “Grandmother, what happened to your eye?” The words come out dripping with uncertainty.

“Bad men took it, but you need not worry about it. They are not able to hurt anyone anymore now.” The answer does little to quell the questions on your mind.

"My, what big hands you have, Grandmother?" You continue questioning.

"All the better to hug you." Comes the quick explanation.

"And what sharp teeth you have..." Your skin begins to prickle and the air becomes harder to breathe. Something in the way your grandmother pauses before answering, makes the hair on your neck stand up. Too late to react, as you get pinned to the mattress with surprising strength.

"All the better to eat you!" With a swoosh the blanket and who you thought was your grandmother's clothes get ripped away, to reveal Aemond sitting on top of you.

He grabs your shift and easily rips the fabric off your body, leaving you gasping, wide eyed and unable to cover yourself as he still pins your wrists above your head with one if his large, strong hands.

The cold air, that streams in through the cracks in the window frame, has your nipples harden even further, until they stand painfully against the heat of your admirers’ chest. Instinctively you lean further into him to catch more of his warmth. Aemonds hard cock presses between your folds, twitching against your entrance, to collect some of the juices that flowed between your thighs.

“Will you be a good girl if I let you go now?” He growls lowly into your ear, eliciting a quiet but eager nod from you.

Slowly the pressure around your wrists vanishes to come down to hold you by the hips. Aemond leans down to capture your lips with his. The slow, but nonetheless passionate nipping at each other’s mouths gives the perfect way for him to express every last bit of longing and yearning that had coursed through the blond’s body ever since he first laid his eye on you. The kiss deflects your attention from the way Aemond rubs his erection against your dripping centre until he has buried himself entirely in it. His tip nearly kisses your cervix and the way your cunt adjusts to his form makes your entire nervous system burst into flames. The flames lick only higher as Aemond absolutely ravages you, rutting into you with inhumane pace and without abandon. It seems he fucks deeper into your tight channel with every thrust, that is accompanied by breathily whispered praise of how long he had waited for this moment and how well you took him. Every once in a while, when a pained whimper leaves your lungs, he kisses your forehead, rubs a few circles with his thumbs into your hipbone and shushes you in the most loving tone anyone had ever used on you beside your family. Yet Aemond doesn´t slow down. Not until you are first to reach your peak and he had made sure to shoot his seed so deep into your core it was sure to take.

Aemond slides out of your sensitive cunt and sits back to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” he inquires short of breath.

“I am. Perhaps I will be a bit sore for the next few days.” You jested back with a raw voice.

“Ah, my apologies. I simply found myself unable to hold back any longer. I have been watching you for so long, my little winter rose. Imagining how it would be to touch you, to claim you, to finally take you as my wife in the face of the seven…” The one-eyed man sheepishly rubs his neck as he confesses to his desires.

Desires that make your face feel like it is on fire once more and your brain is entirely empty. “Is that the truth?”

“I could never lie to you about the graveness of my affections towards you.” Gently, Aemond takes one of your hands into his and presses a kiss to the palm of it.

“Oh, Aemond…” You melt at the show of affection. “I wished nothing more than to be able to be with you for the rest of our days, but I fear it is not possible. For my parents have already promised me to another.”

“Worry not. I have already taken care of that.” The blond stands up to offer his solution to the issue. A severed hand lands between your legs on the bed.

You gasp and raise your eyebrows, but before any question can claw its way out of your lungs, the sharpened silver nails catch your attention. It was Howlands hand that lay there presented to you as if it was a trophy. However, it does not disturb you. On the contrary, it makes you feel strangely appreciated, that someone would go so far as to secure you being with them.

“How dare that son of a whore go after my wife.” Aemond growls and his forehead lays into deep creases.

Careful not to kick around the severed body part, you stand up as well now, stalking over to Aemond on mildly trembling legs. When you reach him one hand goes to his shoulder for stability and the other rises to his face to run the thumb over the space between his eyebrows until it is even again.

“There is no reason to get angry about him anymore. My heart never belonged to him, but it will forever belong to you.” The two of you share one more kiss. This one much more slow, but just as emotional, to seal your future together.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #fairytale au #little red riding hood au

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asamary · 2 months

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The precious angel

(This is my first every story... ye)

As the flowers flow in the wind, the bright blue sky shine in the sky. There sat a person in a field filled with various flowers. They hum a tune as they make some flower crowns by themselves.

Alone, as they always were.

In their high school years, all of their school mate thought of them as weird, they had weird habits and would sometimes talk to themselves. Thats what the students say. But in their eyes, these weird habit is the only comfort they had in all their high school years. Arranging even the slightest mess in their table, or suddenly tapping their fingers.

When the other students see them talking to themselves, it's actually them talking to some frogs they suddenly found.

Their high school years were never bright, but not to dull ether. Yet they wished it could have been more fun. Wished they could had made friends to not worry their grandmother too much.

As their grandmother said once, they were a very talented child. Was good at any instruments they held, creative in painting, loved to cook and bake. Even knitted a pile of plushies for their grandma. Of course there were some they found they were bad at too, sports to be exacts, was never good at soccer. And was slow to answering questing in their class, had a hard time having a conversation while looking to one's eyes, Yet even with their anxiousness, they tried. They truly tried.

But as their high school ends, they wanted to forget all of that, start a new, even when it's a bit late now..

So here in these flower field, where the wind blew the flowers away, as they sat holding the flower crowns they made.

A unexpected stranger suddenly came, one they never could have believed was real.

Angel's pov

"Such a pretty flower crown you have made!" A sudden voice spoke behind me, it made me jumped as i whip my head towards the person.

I was expecting a person, yet what came to view, i saw a red bear smiling widely at me. I was frozen in shocked, not just from my anxiety, but also from this unexpected encounter. But as minutes passed, as we stared awkwardly at each other, i answered "than-k you.." and it went back to the awkward silence.

The bear suddenly laughs heartily,as she sat down beside me. "Haha!! I must have surprised you too much! I know humans are not used to seeing beings like me." She said as she watched the flowers flowed through the wind."I'm.. not actually allowed to be here, our sa-.. our mayor doesn't allow certain residents from going out, but for so long i have always wanted to wander outside of our town!! And and .... oh, I'm rambling."she scratched her cheek as she looked at me"you might think I'm more weird now heh...""no!!" I suddenly shouted, it startled her as she looked at me from my sudden outburst. "I..i meant, you're not weird.. I'm just, surprise is all." I looked away as i messed with my fingers. "Im.. I'm not used to talking is all, i tend to be alone most of my time, except when I'm home. I.. i live With my grandmother is all"

I begun, she listed as she smiled at our little conversation. Then she begun to tell stories of their town, saying how everyone is very unique.for hours we talked, and i begun to open up a bit. I never would have thought that i could make a friend again.

But to think that this friend is unlike the others i once had,it brings me hope, that maybe this friendship will last longer.

Time skip~

"Oh my! Was your granma ok then?!" "She was ok, she might be old but she sure is very strong!!" We laughed for a while as i wiped the tears on my face.

We sat there, laughter dying, i suddenly stood up as she watched me put one of the flower crown on her head. "I now dubbed thee, the queen of this flower field!" I snickers as i bowed down jokingly. i held my hand for her to take, She snickers as she stood up, taking my hand. We laughed as she begun to drag me around the flower field.

As we played around, we begun to dance all of a sudden. Me having two left feet was clumsy, and stumbled a lot, Yet she held me as we both danced around the flower field. It went for hours until we both became tired, falling back to the flowers as we huffed in exhaustion.

We layed there, she laugh again and suddenly engulfed me in a bear hug. "It's been so long since i had this much fun with someone... my roommates barely give me any attention anymore." She puffed her cheeks as she continued. "they seem to be always busy now days, I'll only meet them in the morning and at night now... and at week ends their barley home!!" She cried out as she buried her head to my neck.

The close contact shocked me, but i pat her head as i Asked."well, what does your roommates do?"

She answered "well, dogday is always in the school with the miss daisys and the children, bubba was been busy teaching the growing kids about adult stuffs, picky is always in the bakery ether cooking for just baking sweets, crafty had been in the library with bubba but is painting most of the time, and hoppy, kickn and catnap had been aways for sometime a while now.....it was our mayors orders...." she said, as she mumbled the last part. "How about you?" I asked. Patting her head, still a bit uncomfortable by the closeness. "I walk around town from time to time.. have little chats with the other residents of the town.... but I'm always at home, cleaning after them... sometimes we gather together in special school events.. i always yearn for those days... those are the time we all work together... am i too clingy?" She suddenly asked. I stayed quiet for a while.

i would think she was, but i could also see she is just worried about her roommates, afraid if something bad suddenly happened to them. Afraid to be left alone..

So i held her closer and answered"you are clingy. but, i could understand that you are afraid to be alone..i don't quite know what happened to you to become clingy, but I'm not annoyed by it." I smiled as i continued to hold her"we both might have just met hours ago, but it feels as if we both knew each other for a longer time,I'm so happy to meet someone so unique as you are!" I smiled as i hugged her back.

She stayed quiet for a while, before she hugged back tightly. It stayed like this for a while until my phone suddenly rang. I jumped from the loud noice, as i took out my Nokia phone. "Y/N!!! ITS NOW 4PM!! WHERE ARE YOU YOUNG MAN!!" The small device shouted as i held it far away from me. "I-I'm sorry grandma!! I didn't notice.. i . .. " i looked at the bear beside me, and answered "i was with a friend..." "WELL YOUNG LA- oh... a friend? Well, i guess you and your friend could hang out a bit, but i want you home at 6!! Do you hear me girl??" "Yes grandma.. i heard you."i answered as i heard the bear laughing quietly in the back "well then, tell your friend i said hello and they better be nice to you!!" As she suddenly end the call.

I looked at the bear as she burst into laughter,"your grandma sure is full of energy!! Such a loud voice, i think i could have heard her from a mile away!!" I pout at her as she continued to laugh.

As her laughter died, she touched my cheek and said."to have such a caring grandmother, how envious.." i looked at her and spoke"but to suddenly meet a future forever friend, i think even grandma will love you like she does to me..." i smiled as i held her paw on my cheek.

She stared at me quietly, til she said.."aren't you such a precious angel...."

Before i could asked what she meant, a new voice suddenly join.

"BOBBY WHERE ARE YOU!!??" Startled by the new voice, she looked at her back to the forest she came out of, she hesitated before saying."my name is bobby! And if you wish to hang out some more, we can meet here again!!" She said smiling as she stood up. "It seems my roommates had found me heh,they're going to lecture me..again... but!! I don't regret it today!! Because, i found you!!"she said, as she held me up like simba. I limp there, not knowing what to do.

"BOBBY??!!" Another new voice shouted.

"I'll meet you again then, angel❤︎" as she hugged me one last time, before setting me down, and going to where the voices are heard. I stood there, not knowing what to do. "I forgot to tell my name....."

That was the last thing i mumbled, as i heard the voices coming to a stop.

I looked at the setting sun as i thought, 'time to go home then' i smiled, as the thought of meeting my new friend again filled me with joy.

(We thank you for reading, we hoped you liked it!!)

Art by ant baby(me:))

Story by feathered idiot

#doddle #poppy playtime player #poppy playtime #poppy playtime au #poppy playtime sweet home au #poppy playtime sh au #bobby bearhug #poppy playtime x reader #bobby bearhug x reader #i think?#stories

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thebadboyfanclub · 11 months

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Don’t Say It (Tywin x Reader)

I know I disappeared for a little but I hit a writers block with this one, I think it’s due to exhaustion over me working full time so I hope @thanyatargaryen forgives me if this wasn’t what you intended. Enjoy

Olenna Tyrell was a legend, she had learned the rules by heart and was now on a mission to pass them down to her wonderful granddaughters, the beautiful rose that listened to the name of Margaery and the bewitching siren that could stop a man with a simple song, the young (y/n).

Olenna was no fool, she recognized that the two girls were her strongest soldiers, with these two alone she could rule all of Westeros, well at least all the men which was the same thing.

“Today is an important day, even for you dearest, the wedding of your sister to the king means every eligible lord from all of the seven kingdoms will be attending”

“I am well aware, you do not have to worry about me, grandmother”

(Y/n) reassured olenna whilst her handmaidens assisted her with the finest dress anyone had ever seen, it was her first time at court she needed to look her best, (y/n) squeezed into a dress that was custom made, her hair had taken hours and was brushed to perfection and she smelled of the finest of fragrance oils that were brought from Dorne, it is safe to say that (y/n) couldn’t have looked nor smelled better.

Everyone’s breath hitched at their throats when (y/n) walked with the confidence only a Tyrell could possess, she strutted up to her big sister to wrap her arms around Margaery with clear endearment.

“Congratulations, my queen”

“Oh come on now stop with that”

“I know this is a blessed day for the king but could he be so kind and hear a plea I have for him?”

“Anything for my good sister”

“Look after my dear Marge, as she has done for me”

(Y/n)s voice was as sweet as strawberry cakes and her smile could stop a man dead in his tracks, the young Tyrell leaned on her big sister pressing her chin on Margaerys shoulder whilst the bride leaned her head close to (y/n) as well, the girls shared a strong bond, it was the first time that they would be separated ever since (y/n) was born.

What they did not know was that a certain someone had already his blue set of eyes on the lovely Tyrell who seemed so blatantly unaware of it all, Tywin had sworn to never remarry, no one would ever be as good as his dearest Joanna, she was the one that knew him like the back of her hand, the lady that could wrap her arms around the vicious lion and make him swoon, if she saw him now she would laugh at him, she always told him “never say never my love, you won’t know what the future holds for you”.

“You have your queen and your alliance now, I hope you are happy”

“Naturally, Margaery will serve the realm greatly”

“Soon enough she will start popping out lions, hopefully, my little (y/n) will have better luck”

“What could be better than becoming the queen mother?”

“Becoming the lady wife of a lord that cares for your well-being and happiness”

Tywin grew silent, there was nothing he could say against the allegations of Jeffrey’s cruel nature, he could only hope that Margaery was cunning enough to outsmart him which honestly was not going to be much of a huddle, all the times that Joffrey has been able to be sadistic was owed to other peoples stupidity to either allow him or cover for him.

“Well then let me take a good look at this girl you have such expectations for, lady (y/n)”

Tywin called for the girl whilst he stood a few feet away from the newlyweds, (y/n)s eyes finally found his, and Tywin felt his chest grow tight, the girl was a dream, a dream he often had but could never speak of due to him always believing it will be just that… a silly dream of a widower.

“Lord Tywin, I can imagine this day is probably one of the happiest for your house, correct me if I am wrong but house Tyrell has never wed a Lannister prior to this moment”

“Indeed, let this be a fruitful union for both of our houses, your grandmother has spoken quite highly of you”

“Oh do not listen to her, it is a grandmother's nature to always speak for her grandchildren in the best light”

“Nonsense, Garlan is utterly nice which makes him boring and Loras likes to imagine being a young day twirling in a dress on the garden field, I had lost all hope up until you and your sister were born, the true soldiers of the Tyrell’s”

(Y/n) smiled sweetly before she leaned to place a kiss on her grandmother's cheek, (y/n) and Margaery was well trained, they had sat on the table and played against the best of players only to come out victorious, now Margaery was queen and (y/n) was ready to score her alliance that would bring nothing but glory to her and her family.

“Lady olenna is a lot of things but she is not soft nor does she hide behind her finger, if she says you are her best card then I truly believe it”

Olenna noticed the graciousness in the old lions' words, she picked up on the scanning look that started from her toes and ended on the top of her head, (y/n) did not even have a hair out of place, she placed her hand over her heart as a sign of vulnerability and her smile became brighter in gratitude.

“You are utmost kind, my lord, it is not every day a lady gets to be complimented by the warden of Casterly Rock and the hand of the king, I consider myself lucky for that”

“Luck has nothing to do with it, above it all I am a man that favors honesty and that is what you are receiving”

“I shall go before your words get all in my head, it was an honor to meet you, my lord”

(Y/n) went to curtsy before she was interrupted by Tywin that instead of letting her, reached for her hand and then placed his other one on top of hers, a smirk still evident on his lips as his eyes pierced through her, yet he was left with nothing, (y/n) had always prevailed under the hawking looks of men, she was well aware that she could not budge whatsoever.

“I will see you later Grandmother”

“Of course little flower, go on now, have some fun for me”

Olenna kissed the top of the lady’s head lovingly, it was not a secret that olenna doted on her especially now that it was her turn to marry, she had to bite her lip when it came to Margaery since her son had already bargained her for a sweet deal of a crown, she must do right by (y/n).

Once the lady was far away enough Olenna turned her head towards Tywin who was still following the enchanting Tyrell with his gaze, the way she walked, talked, even her breathing was perfect, his thumb traced over his fingertips, recalling how soft and warm he skin felt against his touch.

“I know that look”

“Pardon?”

“You are planning something”

“I always am”

“If you are scheming to betroth my precious flower to another lion, I must admit I would rather it be you than that little son of yours, in truth I would rather for her to stay away from lions but an old lion is better than Tyrion”

The news of Tywins betrothal hit everyone in kings landing like a ton of bricks. Joffrey was dead, Margaery was technically the dowager queen, and the crown was getting weak by the moment.

(Y/n) had become her sister's shadow, some applauded her compassion and how she was present at all hours to console her sister, what they did not know was that Olenna was already moving the strings for Margaery to marry Tommen, the young, kind boy who could never hurt a fly, however, Olenna had ensured both of the girls now once and for all, what better way to do that than to mess with Tywins head?

“Lady olenna, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I am here to propose another marriage between my house and yours”

“That is no surprise, I am to expect you wish to betroth Margaery to Tommen?”

“No, no my dear Margaery has been through way too much”

“Loras is still to marry Cersei, is there a change in that betrothal?”

“Unfortunately that mess of a wedlock is still going steady, I am concerned over my (y/n)”

Tywin had been too occupied with writing to look up at olenna up until now, his ears perked up at the sound of her name, the girl with the bright smile and the scary resemblance to a shadow of the past.

“What do you wish to suggest?”

“My (y/n) is sweet, kind, and full of life, I believe Tommen would treat her as delicate as she deserves to be treated”

“Tommen? You want to put (y/n) by the new king's side?”

“Tommen is a good boy, nothing like Joffrey, I have taken notice of how Tommen smiles at her, no man could ever deny my beloved granddaughter, I am convinced their reign will be prosperous”

“Mayhaps, although I do not believe Tommen should be the one to marry (y/n)”

“Who else could stand the weight of the crown? Tommen is in much need of someone like (y/n), to keep him humble and gentle, show him what it is like to be loved”

That was what made tywins blood boil the most, the concept of (y/n) hugging Tommen, his grandson brushing (y/n)s hair, the lady creating a child out of Tommens semen, the image of her with a swollen belly whilst Tommen rubbed his hand over it made his skin crawl.

No, no he would never allow another man to be by her side on those milestones, he was graced by the gods with a second chance at love, how could he be a bystander to a marriage that would probably be terrific, although Tywin could never survive with the “what if” lingering on his mind.

“Because she is to marry me”

“Pardon?”

“I am to be betrothed to the lady (y/n), our marriage will take place the same day as Margaerys and Tommens, your Margaery will be queen, and lady (y/n) will become the lady of the rock”

“I would rather die than let my dearest become a second wife, your daughter will eat her alive once the news hit her ears”

“Are you afraid of Cersei?”

“I am petrified of the brass neck your daughter possesses, that woman thinks she can do whatever she pleases with no consequence”

“Cersei is my daughter, you have nothing to worry about she will not be allowed to harm your little girl, once (y/n) falls pregnant that child will become heir of Casterly Rock”

“What if she births a girl?”

“You and (y/n) along with Margaery will decide on her future, I will not partake or force my daughter to do anything”

“Your offer is dripping with syrup, but I will not accept, I gave you Loras and Margaery and now you dare to ask for more”

“If you do not consent to this then I shall announce a match of (y/n) and Ser Sandor Clegane, how does that sound?”

“Careful now, what you are suggesting is… grasping”

“Indeed, but I am feeling rather charitable so I grant you the day to decide, if I do not have an answer by the morrow then the sweet girl will be cloaked with a wonderful yellow flag”

Tywin was a man that proudly stood behind his every word, so as he walked out with a triumphed smirk on his lips he was too occupied with feeling his triumph to notice that olenna was also doing the same (y/n) was now the future lady of the rock and Margaery was to have a second chance to wear the crown.

“My lord”

(Y/n) interrupted his thoughts once she saw him, Tywin stopped swiftly before he could fall right onto her, she was waiting behind the door anxiously, her eyes gawked at the man as her cheeks grew rosy from the embarrassment of her clumsy nature.

“Lady (y/n), what seems to be so important that you could not wait in your chamber for your grandmother”

“She informed me about my betrothal, I apologize I was just so fidgety I wanted to know the second that it was settled”

“Are you in such a rush to marry that boy? I am concerned over your taste”

“Tommen is a wonderful person and the future king, any lady would be lucky to be his lady wife”

“So is it the promise of a crown that excites you? I can tell you wearing a piece of metal decorated with gems will not bring you any happiness”

“Pardon my intrusion but why are you so opposed to the fact of me marrying your grandson? I am highborn and have received the proper education, your house along with the Baratheon owe my family everything”

“It is not you that is not enough young lady”

Silence fell over them, Tywin had stumbled right on her trap and now he was as still as a grain of salt, only blinking at the girl that acted surprised over his suggestion that Tommen was the one that was short when he stood next to her, (y/n) bit her lip before she gazed down for a split second and then back up, she wanted to appear at a loss of words.

“I do not want to believe what my thoughts are suggesting”

“You are a fool if you don’t”

“Lord Tywin, you and I it- how could”

“I am too old for this game my dear, I have given your grandmother the rest of the day to decide and if I’m being frank I believe that luck is on my side, so I suggest you ran along and instruct the finest tailor to start on your gown, you must look as stunning as ever”

“I am fluttered, but I do not understand-“

“Listen to me dear, from that moment you smiled at me you have haunted every waking moment and I cannot seem to escape you even in the shackles of deep slumber, I am aware that I do not look like the young and beautiful knight in shining armor a maiden might expect to marry but I can you this promise right now, every other lady from east to west will be jealous of the luck you held when you marry me”

Lord Tywin once again made his exit thinking that he had the upper hand, if someone were to consider everything that has been done in this world wasn’t it always like this?

A man trotted away victorious while the woman stood and smiled proudly at herself, moving the strings without even the man realizing that she had very carefully placed the strings around his arms like a little puppet.

“My dearest girl, I was there at your birth and I took one good look at you and saw the moon and the stars in those eyes, I always knew you would be the brightest of them all”

Olenna informed (y/n) once she had walked into the office Tywin was in moments ago, Olenna wrapped her arms around her in the most loving manner and (y/n) responded with the same warmth.

“We have so much to plan, the future doesn’t wait for anyone”

“How could he ever do this to our family?”

“Who did what?”

“Do not play the fool with me Jaime I am sure you have heard of the vilest news, our father is to marry that little rat from Highgarden”

“One of them is a smirking whore and the other one is a rat? Well you certainly won’t have a good time in the palace once all of them marry into our family”

“How could be so calm at this time? Our son is dead, the other one is to marry Margaery and now our father betrayed us”

“Our father has been without a wife for over a decade Cersei, he is a highborn lord, anyone would have a good chunk of heirs from another wife by now”

In jaimes defense he has always attempted to take the logical side when Cersei went on her little paranoid rants over loyalty or whatever the case was at that time, however, this time he could not sit for hours and let her blabber.

Jaime did not even blink when his father told him about his betrothal, he is a kingsguard, and Tyrion is… well, Tyrion and Cersei have played her part in becoming queen though she could not inherit lannisport, every year he waited for his father to announce a marriage of alliance for himself and now it was finally time.

“This is despicable, they will tarnish our name”

“How will they do that exactly? (Y/n) will probably do her best at becoming pregnant which will install our name to live on which as you know is truly what our father cares about”

“Margaery is a manipulative little scum she will shred our Tommen to pieces”

“Tommen was tormented by Joffrey for years and you know it, if anything having some female tending to him will probably do wonders for his confidence”

“Of course as a man that is all you think about, I do not even know why I came to you over this matter, once again I am called to act by myself”

That is when Jaime had heard enough, very softly he rose from his seat and went over to his clearly disheveled sister, a kiss was laid on the center of her forehead all while his hands rubbed up and down to her forearms making her puff out a breath of relief from the comfort his touch brought to her.

“You will do nothing, Father has already announced his betrothal, if anyone even touched a hair from (y/n)s head he will not hesitate to demand its head to be served on a silver platter”

“Father is just being short sighed it is us that must act to save him”

“From what? Having his bed warm by a woman? Especially her, surely you are not that blind that you haven’t understood what he saw in her”

“Don’t say it”

“I know it feels like salt over the wound-“

“No, no”

“You must admit the resemblance is uncanny”

“Never!”

Cersei pushed him away harshly, tears welled up in her eyes and all of a sudden she was rudely pulled back to that day, the gods forsaken day that Cersei had to witness her mother laying in bed with blood staining her nightgown.

“That bitch is not our mother”

“She is not, though she looks like her”

Requests are open!

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ghouljams · 10 months

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Last night I had a dream that fae!Price’s darling was a witchy gal, her grandmother taught her about the fae when she was young. I’m talking warded up house, always carrying iron and salt, candles herbs and crystals the whole nine yards. They met in the flower shop after she got a weird vibe, looked through a hagstone and Saw him. He showed up in her garden and she gave him mead she made to make up for her rudeness. She will do small acts of kindness but specify that they are “freely given” to avoid tethering. I was reading your blog right before bed lol. I like the idea of debt holder Price and a (from a fae perspective) slippery darling that he just can’t catch unless she wants to be caught

*Holding the grimoire I wrote as a senior capstone in College* Oh you want witch shit? I can give you witch shit. Let's keep trying out Price's darlings, the only thing I require for her is that she have the most knowledge of the fae because she's dealing with the big kid one. (Here's where I mention that I also have a potential witch darling for Gaz so keep that in mind)

He's been hanging around your garden, just by your back gate, right where your grandmother planted rosemary so many years ago. You greet him every time you pass by, careful never to reach over the brick wall that separates you. He's friendly, but you're not so easily fooled.

"Good morning," you smile at him, watering the herbs on your side of the fence. He leans against the brick to watch you. Eyes heavy as they slide over you, tracing the sway of your skirt where it skims your thighs.

"How's my pretty witch doing today?" He asks voice thick and promising. He's just as careful to avoid your iron watering can as you are to keep it from splashing him. You find the residual warding properties tend to soak into the water. Your family has always maintained a strong threshold for the home.

"Better seeing you," you joke, returning the compliment as easily as can be. You never miss the heat in his eyes, the danger just below his friendly facade.

"I brought you something."

"That's very kind of you," you tell him, "I think the tomatoes are ripe, I'll send you off with some for the trouble."

"No trouble, I wanted to bring it."

"Oh but I couldn't accept a gift without repaying you, it would be rude of me."

"Repay me later," he growls, and you smile a little wider. You like this dance, you've never had a fae try so hard to get their hooks in you. You set down your watering can and lean against the brick across from him. Your weight resting on your elbows, the threshold humming between you.

"But I can repay you now."

"It's a gift."

"Gifts have strings."

"Then it isn't a gift," he says, mirroring your posture.

"Then what is it?" You ask, his eyes flick to your chest, appreciative, wanting. His confidence is charming, or it would be if you were the sort of person to take the fae at face value.

"A name," Your smile drops, your heart jumping up your throat. He must see the panic in your eyes because his smile widens. "Not to keep, just... to call me when we talk." Your pulse tries to slow from the impact of panic. He did that on purpose, you try not to look too rattled by this. You try to think of an appropriate repayment.

"I can't tell you mine."

"I know." He purrs, pleased with himself for catching you in your own defenses. You feel a chill graze your skin through the threshold, the edge of Winter. He knows exactly the corner he's backing you into. He gives you time to think through your options, to panic at the weight of his offer.

"I don't-"

"I know." He pushes, tapping against the solid line between you. You've never had the sight, but you can feel his magic collide with yours as he hits the threshold. You toy with the hagstone on your necklace, the worn stone warm from your skin under your fingers. "Witch," he warns.

"I'm still thinking."

"Think as long as you want," He leans closer, "but call me Price while you do."

Your heart stops, your thoughts grinding to a halt as well. Price. It fits him. You feel the silver thread searching for purchase in your soul, and break one of your long standing rules.

You lean over the threshold and kiss him. Because you know he wants to have some part of you, and you know he wants you on the wrong side of the fence. The thread breaks as his hand slides to cup your cheek, tipping your head as his lips slide against yours. It's your first one, and you think it's worth the price of his name.

His beard sort of tickles but his lips are soft and insistent, and you lean a little further over the wall to stay close. His hands are entreating, coaxing you further across the threshold. His teeth dig into your lip and you open for him, let him drag his tongue against yours as his fingers thread through your hair. You feel your feet leave the ground, the brick digging into your hands as you put your weight on them. The pain is enough to bring you back to your senses. You don't know what would happen if you let him take you.

Price sighs as you pull away and settle back on your side of the wall. He feels a thread hook in him. You've overpaid. He values your touch more than you apparently did, how fortunate for him. And unfortunate for you.

#fae!Price #a potential darling #this witch is more nice than the one Gaz is trying to deal with #gonna say shes a hedgewitch #very old school folk magic and family magic #john price x reader #john price mw2 #captain john price #john price x y/n #john price #fae au #Price visiting his darling on the edge of winter every day bringing her little things #and going home with a bundle of food and fresh produce #asked my friend who has daddy issues to help me with this #hope its good for yall

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 10 months

Text

Continuation of this.

This time, it was Steve coming over to have nap time with Eddie at his place. He had been sitting on the porch, waiting for him. Eddie grinned and let him inside. Raising an eyebrow at the second teddy bear.

"The other Dr. Bearington, I presume?" Eddie asked as he guided Steve towards his bedroom.

"It is," Steve said. "This is Teddy Bearington."

"Teddy?" He asked as he started to crawl into his bed and turned to grin wolfishly at him.

"It's just a coincidence," Steve said. "I had them both since I was a kid."

"Whatever you say," he laughed as Steve crawled in next to him.

"You can hold Teddy," Steve said.

"Oh, yay!"

Steve rolled his eyes and crawled in bedside him. They fell asleep facing each other. They were both clutching the bears to their chests. Berry blinked his eyes and looked at Eddie sleeping peacefully across from him.

"Do you think that this one will stay?" Berry asked Teddy.

"I have every faith that he will," Teddy said.

"How do you know?" Berry said, his brows furrowed.

"I know love when I see it," Teddy said. "I have been seeing it every day for twenty years."

"You loved me even before Steve married us?" Berry asked.

"Of course, how could I not?" Teddy asked. "You and the kids - "

"We don't have actually have kids, Theodore Rex," Berry said dryly.

"Well, no, but Steve put in all that work imagining us up those kids. The least we could do is pretend like they exist," Teddy said.

"It's not like he's going to know," Berry rolled his eyes. "Caryle insisted that we didn't tell him."

"Only because his parents insisted that he never find out that his grandmother was a witch," Teddy said. "Like they know what's actually good for Steve."

"I think I was wrong," Berry said, smiling softly. "We have at least one kid, and he's a good one."

"Couldn't be prouder," Teddy said with a smile.

"We were only supposed to last as long as he needed us," Berry said and paused. "Do you think on some level that he knows we're alive and that Carlye created us to look out for him?"

"Uh, if he didn't before, he does now, dear," Teddy said.

They looked up to find both Steve and Eddie looking at them with wide eyes.

"Oh my god!"

"Oh, shit," Berry and Teddy said.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet

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aphroditesmoon · 1 year

Note

Idk if youre taking requests, if not ignore me, however what about jace with alicents daughter!reader where they get together behind their mothers backs, and theire sneaking around ,failing at it, and alicent anfd rhaenyra catch them

sweetest thing on this side of heaven

jacaerys velaryon x targ!reader

warnings: none

a/n: sorry for the slow req<3 also I had a feeling you wanted something angsty but my heart overtook my brain so this is all fluff.

°°°

You hadn't plan to fall for him at first. But it wasn't that hard to notice his own longing stares and embarrassing efforts to win you over.

You had assumed he would despise you for what your brothers have started, but you are not your brothers, and he knew that. You've always been kind to him since young, but never too close, not even with your own siblings.

Peace was found in solitude, and that was how most of your time was spent. Some may call you heartless, but your found more feelings and purity in stories than in reality.

For the world was crueller than the books made it seem like, and soon the library was your safe place.

You were quite annoyed when he started showing up there too frequently, always asking about what you're reading.

But when you saw his sincerity in actually wanting to know of your interests was real, having someone to talk to became less of a chore.

It even started to feel fun.

And so he became your first friend, first kiss and first lover. He intends to be your only.

Everytime he leaves to Dragonstone, letters will be sent every moon, and he will receive his own from Kingslanding. He was always careful to keep them to himself, gods know since Aemond lost his eye, the strain between his grandmother and his mother became stronger.

And he would always put his mother first as her heir, but you are his fresh cherry from a rotten tree, the ultimate test to his loyalty.

When news spread of the princess Rhaenyra's return to Kingslanding for her son's petition for the inheritance of Driftmark, You had to hold yourself back from showing just now excited you are to meet Jace again.

You also had to fight back the urge to bodyslam your brother to the ground everytime he opens his mouth to mock his nephews.

Aemond had remained bitter of the incident, and you couldn't blame him. You brother had lost a whole eye, he had the right to remain upset. But you still couldn't help the selfishness in you that draws you back to Jacaerys' side.

You hear the commotion servants made when they arrived, waiting for it to pass before approaching him, not wanting to seem too eager.

You lean againts the open door of his chambers, watching him put down his set if clothes by the table side.

"Hello there." You greeted with a knowing smile on your lips.

He freezes in his movements before turning towards you. You had no time to think when he immediately pulled you inside and slammed his doors shut.

Any words you've planned to say to him died on your throat when he has you againts the door, his lips immediately finding yours.

The kiss was hot and passionate, all of his yearning and longing pushed into it. Your hands roam his build, feeling up his tunic, searching for his skin, his warmth againts yours. His own hands stop yours, holding it by your side as he pulls away first for air.

He leans his forehead againts yours, and you can't help smiling as you meet his eyes.

"Missed me much?" He snorts, grinning himself.

"Don't act like you don't." He retorted. You only kept smiling, shaking your head. "Never said that did I? Hm." You fingers move up to trance his temples, caressing his face as if trying to remember all the details of his features you've feared to have forgotten.

He seems to understand the notion, with his own palms cupping your cheeks. "I'm here. I promise." He vows before engulfing your mouth with his again.

°°°

The only thing that went well that day was your reunion with Jace and his brother. Sir Vaemond was executed quite publicly by your uncle Daemon, unsurprisingly, and dinner was almost decent, until your brother decided he just had to open his mouth.

You were hurried to your chambers by your mother, and there was where you went and was met with your lover lounging in your room already, anxiously waiting for you to arrive.

"He knows what he was doing." Jace gritted out, pacing around.

"Of course he does, it's Aemond." He was obviously still infuriated with the events that occured, but your mind was drifting to what bits you heard from your mother and stepsister's conversation as you left.

Jacaerys and Lucerys was to leave to Dragonstone tonight.

Your abruptly stood up and cut off the rambling prince. "I should leave."

He halts and turn to you, wide eyed.

"Oh-Just a few more minutes? I'll stop talking to myself I promise." He pleaded, waving off his rambles.

You shook you head and pulled his hands to intertwine with yours. "No tis' not that, your mother will be here any minute, she wishes for you and Luc to be at Dragonstone by tonight, I heard her myself." You explain, gaze low as you fiddle with his rings.

You hear him inhale a sharp breath before swearing.

"I've just had you back." He sighs out, refusing to meet your eyes. It felt like the first time in ages you two met again, face to face, gazes never met.

"I know, I know. There always seem to be something between us, heh?" You try to lighten the mood, his face only souring more.

He winced at your words, tightening his grip on your hands before opening his eyes again. "You know, if she can't find me, she can't make me go." He says suggestively.

You gave him an amused look, frowning with a tight-lipped smile accompanied.

"What are you gonna do? Hide in the kitchen?" You tease, invoking a fond memory from childhood. He snorts as he checks outside his door for anyone before turning back to you. "Not hide, raid the kitchen."

"Ah sure." You grinned

He takes you by your hand and silently pulls you through the corridors before reaching the closed kitchen. The lock making the both of you scoff.

You had managed to pull it open by the age of 12.

"A little help?" He motioned. You took off a pin from your hair, making it come undone while the other pins fall apart on the floor.

"Fuck." You cursed, while Jacaerys works the lock with your pin. "We'll pick it up later." He simply affirms.

When a click was loudly made, he shoves the kitchen door open and sends you a smirk, earning an eye roll.

Entering the kitchen was entering an odd dazed memory. You can't remember exactly how long it has been since you've been with Jace, but it still feels like yesterday you two were sneaking out strawberry fudge cake and lemon tarts from the kitchen in the middle of the night, laughing quietly at the explosions of anger from the head kitchen lady that next morning.

His hand never leaves yours as you both head in. You sigh loudly as you pull open the cupboards to find leftover blueberry tarts. "My favourite." Savoring the tart, you finish it quickly, not caring for falling crumbs.

Jacaerys nudges your shoulder and takes no time to shove a piece of cheese toast in your mouth when you look his way.

You swatted his arm after almost choking on it. "Bastard." You scolded in a muffled voice.

As soon as the words leaves your mouth you regret them, seeing a flash of offense on his face. "Oh Jace-" An apology almost slipped until you saw the hint of a smile dancing on his lips.

Immediately your face turns irritated again as you smack him harder. "Bastard."

You two spent a few minutes forgetting your responsibilities and your parents as you indulge in chocolate cakes and reminiscing the past.

It wasn't hard to find the two of you in such position like old days. You two had a connection that made it seem as if you've never parted in the first place.

"You know." He says before chucking a tart in his mouth. "When I'm king? I'm gonna make a law that forces you to stay with me." His muffled words makes you choke on a giggle.

Jacaerys often has to present himself extra harder than her brothers, for all the rumours of his illegitimacy. But at times like this, you can truly see the sweet boy in him, who'd rather live off tarts and flying by day than busy himself with ruling and paperworks.

"I'm also going to make a law to ban anything other than these tarts to be served because holy shit." You agreed. "Mhm, the cook definitely did something with these."

Before either of you could counter eachother's words, a foreign voice interrupts.

"How about you make a law to ban tart robbers from nightly kitchen raids." Rhaenyra's voice booms through the room.

Both you and Jace freeze in your actions, mouth full of food, eyes wide, horrified at the circumstances you were found.

To make matters worse, she wasn't the only one there. You silently curse when you see your mother's figure leaning againts the door opposite of Rhaenyra. Both of them holding an unreadable expression.

A long silence lingered until you decided to speak up and ask first; "Are you going to kill us."

You might be hallucinating but you swore you saw your mother fight off a grin before she and Rhaenyra sighs tiredly.

"Just give me one of those damned cakes." She relented.

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #hotd x reader #jace velaryon x reader #game of thrones #house of the dragon x reader #jace targaryen x reader #hotd #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys x reader

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lorkai · 4 months

Text

*･゜ﾟ Three reasons to love him

*･゜A/N: This has been seating on my drafts for some time now and maybe it's just me being me, but I don't like how this turned out. But if I don't post this now then I'II probably never will tbh. Enjoy! @sweetbydarkness

"I don't understand how you can love someone like that," Epel said, leaning over the bed and pretending to vomit on the impeccably clean floor of his room. The topic of dating always reminded him of your poor taste in men, in his own words.

The boy tried to make a grimace, but the black mask that Vil had applied to his face a few minutes ago prevented him from expressing what he felt. He resorted to waving his hands frantically to release the contained anger within his small body. "This mask bothers my face, and he forces me to do this every day. It's ridiculous, he's ridiculous, and you're ridiculous too. Everyone is ridiculous!"

You pretended to be offended, rolled your eyes, and pushed him away with your foot. But Epel was used to dodging Rook's cunning attacks and dodged at the last second to the other side of the bed, smiling like a true idiot once he was out of your reach.

"Oh, the great wisdom of humanity, if you had kept your mouth shut during the selection, Vil would never have looked in your direction and decided to 'torture' you, abominable cave creature," you reminded him with a laugh.

The boy pretended not to hear you as he scrolled through posts on Magicam carelessly, holding back from scratching his own face and ruining the mask Vil had applied to him. There was no way he would go through that torture twice in the same night.

Finally, he looked up at you again, letting out a tedious sigh, wondering how you could love someone as strict as Schoenheit.

Epel couldn't even remember how it happened. All he knew was that he woke up one day and realized a special sparkle existed in your eyes and a smile on your lips every time the blond was nearby or when you heard his voice, or when someone mentioned his name. Love was a beautiful feeling, as his grandmother had told him so many times, and yet, he rolled his eyes trying to find a single good quality for someone to love his dorm leader.

In his perspective, his dorm leader was just a cruel tyrant. Schoenheit was always talking about beauty and effort, but Epel didn't care about any of that. The boy had more important concerns in mind.

Anyway, he hoped that you two would start dating soon so that he would have more free time to jump in mud puddles and challenge Savanaclaw students to a fight — or that's what he liked to think, as he preferred to forget that Rook would keep an eye on him.

"Aren't you going to confess?" He suddenly asked.

And you felt the wave of shame rise on your face as you remembered all the plans you had created and shared with him, seeking a second opinion. One idea was more cliché than the other, and after a while pondering more ideas, you convinced yourself that it was better to simply express your feelings to him face to face. Nothing was better than a sincere confession, in your opinion. That's what you had decided, yet you hadn't mustered the courage to confess to him.

And how could you? He was almost a god, and that look in his beautiful eyes could intimidate anyone. Beautiful lilac eyes that made you smile every time he looked in your direction.

"Aren't you writing a letter? Did you give up on it?" He laughed bitterly. He endured hours of suffering and torture listening to the silly content you were writing. Epel felt a vein pulsating on his forehead at the fact that you had chickened out, and your expression didn't help at all.

"Well, I finally don't have to hear oh perfect Vil, oh gentle Vil again. For the love of the seven, I wanted to eat lava and die if you read those lines to me again!" He laughed loudly.

You looked at him and narrowed your eyes as if that would make him explode. In your mind, he was exploding into a thousand pieces, but you took a deep breath and rolled your eyes again.

Epel was even worse than you when he had a crush. He talked about his beloved for hours on end with a silly smile on his face, but he also didn't have much courage to confess, and when he tried, he started shouting and blushing.

"I could list a thousand reasons why Vil Schoenheit is perfect!" You confidently murmured aloud. A foolish smile once again spreading across your face as your friend looked disapproving.

He waved his hand as if to shoo away an annoying fly and laughed condescendingly, prolonging his laughter to irritate you a little more. "I doubt it!" Crossing his arms, Epel looked at you challengingly. "Tell me at least three reasons why you love him."

"What an outrage!" You naturally mimicked Sebek's way of speaking as you decisively looked back at your friend. "How dare you question Your Excellency in this way? But very well, I suppose I can entertain you for now, ungracious human. Feel grateful to be able to hear the qualities of my good lord."

Heat rose on your face as you let your mind wander through your memories and shared moments with Vil. A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you imagined Vil's beautiful and intimidating eyes staring at you, a smug smile growing on his lips as he heard everything you would say about him.

And clearing your throat, you began to speak in an almost timid tone but gaining your usual confidence as you spoke.

"Well… You see, I love the fact that Vil is very diligent and responsible. He literally created a specific skincare routine for each student in his dorm, thinking about even those who have some type of condition or allergy. That takes dedication and a great attention to details, he takes good care of his underclassmen, you gotta give him that." You said, taking a few seconds to continue.

You thought about all the moments you witnessed someone running up to Vil to tell him about what they had achieved with the help and advice he offered, and how his eyes softened with genuine joy because of it. With Vil, it was always about the little things.

He was happy if someone had fixed their posture, spoken in public without stuttering, or tried his products even with a busy routine. And he always showed it.

Perfection begins with small steps, you remember him telling you one day, as he helped with your eyeliner.

"I understand it can be uncomfortable to be approached by him suddenly and have a bunch of products thrown into your arms while he says you need to change this or that, but it's his way of showing he cares, Epel." You laughed, recalling just hours ago when the lilac-haired boy sought refuge in your dorm.

And how later he was approached by a certain hunter and the queen barging into the Ramshackle and how he was dragged all the way through to Pomefiore. And you were brought along to keep Epel company during his routine. Your face heating again as you remembered Vil's soft fingers touching your face and the focused look on his face.

"Maybe you'll understand in a few years." Epel rolled his eyes at your remark. You were not that much older than him.

The boy wrinkled his nose, furrowed his brow, and looked away behind you as if he found the ceiling more interesting than the subject you were talking about. Epel decided to be a child and ignore you again, not that you cared.

"Well, if he didn't care about you or the other students, he wouldn't spend so much time working on things that could help all of you." You concluded, looking at your nails with interest instead of focusing on the sounds of Epel's disgusted reactions.

He leaned back, resting against his plush pillows, muttering something under his breath that you couldn't quite understand. More relaxed, he made a hand gesture for you to finish this torture soon.

"Two more reasons to go." He reminded you unintentionally.

You chuckled. "He's passionate about what he does." You let out an almost dreamy sigh. "Passionate about his work, either be his modeling or acting job, or making potions. Or doing anything really, even when doing the most mundane of the things he just has this focused look on his face that is so inspiring. And everytime I look at him I feel capable of doing many things, of exceeding everything I put my mind into. Do it makes sense?"

You paused, thinking about everything he had inspired you to do, even if he wasn't aware of it. Vil was a huge source of bright light shining endlessly, never allowing the darkness to get too close, he started to brighten your days every time he was around you and you were grateful to him for that.

You were grateful for every tip, for every smile and hug exchanged, for every joke and story shared, for him being there when you needed him. Maybe deep down he knew about your feelings too, preferring not to comment anything about it so as not to embarrass you since you weren't subtle about how you felt. And why should you? Love was a beautiful feeling, but so confusing and agitated.

It was love that you felt when you opened the windows and saw a pink sky announcing the beginning of another day, another day that you could see and hear him, his voice, his little humming, leaving extremely happy for whatever the day thrown your way. It was love you felt when you saw him acting, chills running down your back when a cold, calculating expression took over his face like a mask. If he had to be a villain, it must be a sin to be so beautiful acting like that.

"Earth to Yuu!" Epel's voice took you out of your thoughts, spread out on his bed and completely relaxed in his presence, he was playing something on his cell phone. "Last reason?"

You smiled. It was so obvious what the ultimate reason was after everything you'd been through here. "Because he's true to himself, even with all the criticism and nasty comments he receives daily, he's strong and I'm very proud of him. Do you think he would think that was weird if I told him? I mean, I see how he tries hard even if not everyone can see it and I wanted to say that what he does is enough. I wanted to say he's the best."

Epel held back a giggle, the same characteristic giggle he had when he was up for no good. You stared at him, not understanding why he looked so smug, not understanding why his giggles evolved into a loud laughter.

"I must say, Liebling, I'm glad to hear all this." A new voice joined the conversation and you cold tell that there was a smile on Vil's face from the way he sound.

He sounds so proud, so happy that someone appreciated everything he did.

Your soul seemed to have left your body at that very moment, slowly turning back to see Rook and Vil standing in the doorway. A quick wave of recognition passed through you, Epel knew they had been behind you this whole time! That was why he was looking back before!

You clasp your hands together, wanting nothing more than to grab a pillow and use it to beat Epel until it bursts. Fortunately, you resisted this urge, feeling your heart beat faster in your chest with each step Vil took towards you and Epel must have sensed your murderous tendencies, preferring to get away from you before you attacked him.

His smile, as you predicted, was beautiful on his lips and he seemed overjoyed to hear such genuine compliments, even though he was used to it. All the anxiety and fear of rejection you felt before seemed to melt away as soon as you held eye contact, nothing else existing but you and him. And Epel who eventually made gagging noises as the seconds passed and Rook who recited poetry about the obvious love that existed and was reciprocal between you and Vil.

"How much did you hear?" You decide to ask, deciding that you would declare yourself here and now, without caring about anything else. He was here, he was listening to you. There would be no better opportunity than this.

And Vil smiled that cocky smile that made millions of butterflies dance in your stomach, holding your chin between his fingers carefully. "I've heard enough, Liebling." He's close now, his lips brushing your sensitive ear. "Do you want to talk about it once your skin care is finished?"

You nod, feeling the force of a thousand suns shining over your head, over your skin. You feel warm, but it's not as uncomfortable as it seems, on the contrary, you feel a thread of hope growing in your chest, Vil's fingers making you smile as he carefully pulls the black mask off your face.

Being cared for and loved by him felt incredibly good. And you sighed when those expressive lilac eyes kept you captivated by his attention, feeling the cold cream being spread over your skin.

Rook and Epel's voices were like your own white noise, sounding so soft in the background like a song that you don't pay attention to the lyrics. Vil gently held your hand when everything was finished and you followed him without asking, letting him take you to his room so you could talk.

At least, at the end of the night, you had managed to tell him about all the other reasons that made you love him so deeply.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #pomefiore #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #vil x yuu #vil x reader #vil x mc #vil schonheit x yuu #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit x mc #pomefiore x reader #fluff #happy new year

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see-arcane · 10 months

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Today’s entry is one of many that really drives home why I can never quite bring myself to get into softer ‘uwu he’s just misunderstood and sexy-liberating’ versions of Dracula. Just. I can’t. I really really can’t.

Up to this point, he’s already had a monstrous moment in bringing the ladies their first on-screen kids meal crying and squirming in its sack. He’s had outright predatory back-to-back moments in imprisoning, coercing, robbing, and getting increasingly threatening and handsy with Jonathan. This, capped with the fact that he plans to kill/drink/gift him to the Undead Girl Gang by the end of June.

‘But what about his, “I too can love,” huh? He’s just loving as best a monster can! He could be tearing everyone around him to ribbons for annoying him, Brides and Jonathan included! Instead he goes out of his way to feed the ladies, albeit gruesomely, and has no retort when they laugh at and insult the lonely old bat. And he isn’t planning to kill Jonathan. He wants to keep him! Sure, it’s a sick version of it, but to him conscripting and collecting Jonathan rather than executing him outright is the height of affection! Surely that’s grounds for some of the more ~romantic~ takes in warped gothic flavor?’

To an extent, yeah.

But he also just dressed up in Jonathan’s stolen clothes to cover up for the man’s own abduction, imprisonment, and undeadifying, while also increasing the odds of Jonathan already getting mistaken for a vampire, bringing home another child for the ladies to devour, and then ordered a pack of wolves to eat a grieving mother alive for making noise at his gate.

And this? This is just the tip of the iceberg for how downright hellish he gets as the novel progresses.

Dracula can absolutely be a nuanced character within canon, offshoots, retellings, re-imaginings, and so on. And he should be! He’s a very interesting bastard who’s got so much more going on than a few one-liners and a taste for good cloaks and yummy company. But his actual actions in the book--even the smallest ones--just automatically torpedo 90% of my audience enjoyment when I run into yet another ‘Oh, but he did it all because he was in love!/misunderstood!/depressed!/unfairly maligned by the eeevil human Victorian characters in their journals and newsprint and body count records!’ version of the Count.

Even sillier takes that try to heroify him for kids like Hotel Transylvania just kind of make my brain trip and fall into a pit of ???

‘Look kids, Dracula is really a nice guy and a sweet dad who runs a fun little hotel for his misunderstood Universal Horror monster buddies! Isn’t he neat?’

It leaves me biting my tongue and holding this mental grimace as I think about the sacks full of weeping children, the slaughtered mother, a young man imprisoned for making the mistake of endearing himself so much to a sadistic monster that the latter has decided to keep him as a tortured toy and undead pseudo-slave for eternity, with an entire blood buffet of human cattle still waiting to fill out the rest of the novel with trauma, horror, and death.

‘Ohhh, but look at Francis’ tragique sweetheart version who stole all his redeeming qualities from Jonathan Harker! Ohhh, but look at the funny silly Adam Sandler cartoon and his new everyman-settling daughter! Ohhh, but look at how #cool and modern-sexyedgy an antihero/villain he is when penned by every projecting director and their grandmother! Lighten up, it’s just a different interpretation!*’

*Of the character whose whole deal is psychological torture, being a predatory creep, casual murder, and worse-than-murder of innocents.

I know it skews me towards being a whiny purist. I know. Let folks have fun. I know. But still, it feels so wrong every time I see someone try to ‘awww, he’s not so bad!’-ify him in new media when. No. He is exactly that bad and probably worse. If he’s not, then that’s not fucking Dracula.

tl;dr: Can people just make some new fun/sexy/antihero vampires instead of stapling Dracula’s name on all of them? Can Dracula just be an interesting villainous monster again?? Please??? (Please save me Renfield 2023 and The Last Voyage of the Demeter, you’re my only ho--)

#ranting and whining this morning #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily #jonathan harker #adaptation #bastardization

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look-at-the-soul · 4 months

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Always with me

(Modern)Tommy Shelby x reader (+Grandma) 👵🏻

Hello beautiful people! Hoping you’re doing well 💞 It took me so long to finish this little story because for some reason I kept thinking it needed something else but couldn’t find what it was, then one day I thought this is it, don’t force it, the main point it’s there… sometimes less is more or so they say. Either way, I hope you like this!

Just to let you know this is part of a series of stories (not linked between them) about my Grandma’s series to honor one of the persons who had the biggest impact in my life and I recently lost. This is a small tribute and a way to cope with her not being around anymore.

Grief and sadness is mentioned but as usual I compensate with fluff and happiness ❤️‍🩹 thank you for your endless support, it means so much.

Word count: 3,602

✨ Inspired by Westlife song “Always with me”

They say that time can heal a broken heart

But I just don't know how this could be true

Everyday I see a picture on my wall

My heart is broken into two

Tommy poured two glasses of wine and headed to the couch, next to his girlfriend. She had been staring absently at the fire flames flicking before her eyes, she didn’t even notice when Frances asked if they wanted something for dinner. But he already knew the answer, it was one of those moments when Y/N’s mind wandered back in time to some memory with her grandmother.

Her energy felt so low, the sadness in her eyes made him feel hopeless, and with the holidays around the corner he knew it wouldn’t help to lift her up, as he knew the days meant so much for her. If only he could find a way to make her focus on something else, a distraction.

His eyes fixed on her features as she brought the glass to her mouth.

“You’re wearing lipstick.” He noticed a subtle tone.

A ridiculous suggestion he made when Y/N asked how to get back on track. Try to focus in small things, the finest details you used to do without even thinking about it. Like using your favorite lipstick, he had said back then.

The glimpse of a smile formed on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes, so taking both glasses he placed them on the table to then pass an arm behind Y/N’s neck to bring her closer.

“I know it’s not been easy for you, but take your time to heal… it’s okay to not being okay.”

His fingers massaged gently her scalp and Tommy felt Y/N relaxing against him, really allowing him to hold her, not just physically.

“I miss her.” Her voice cracked at the end, and felt Tommy’s hands hugging her tighter.

“I know, love. I miss her too, but you know what? I just noticed you’ve got so many mannerisms like her.”

Y/N’s head moved back to give him a confused look.

“You do, just as you were sipping coffee this morning, the way you hugged Charlie it made me remember every time we visited your grandma and she hugged you.”

“You think so?” Surprise washed over her.

Tommy nodded.

“You’ve got lots of things from her, both physically and internally.” He brushed a rebel lock away from her face and looked at her with adoring eyes. “I realized you look so much alike in this photo.”

Fishing his phone in his pocket, Tommy searched for the image he was looking for, a candid image he snapped from Y/N when she wasn’t looking.

“You never told me you took this.” She was surprised by how much she looked like her grandmother indeed.

“If you put them side by side, it’ll be more obvious.” A genuine smile appeared on his lips.

“It’s lovely, thanks. I’ll make a collage.” Y/N leaned in to brush her lips against his. “Do you mind if I go to sleep? I’m exhausted.”

“I’ll join you in a minute, just want to check Charlie.”

“My God, he must be so confused for not having the Christmas tree yet.” Worry was evident in her voice.

“Don’t worry about it baby, I’ll take care of it.” He then joined her in the middle of the hall to give Y/N one more reassuring kiss. Making sure she was upstairs, he called Frances. “Would you help me pack a small suitcase for Charlie and another one for Y/N, leave them by the door so the driver can place them in the back of the car.”

“Of course Mr. Shelby.” The maid nodded.

“Oh and Frances? Make sure to pack yours as well, I need you to look after Charlie.”

Leaving the maid perplexed, Tommy went upstairs.

***

“Since Charlie isn’t cooperating, Frances would you explain why all this mystery?”

Charlie grinned and gave Frances one long and expectant look.

“I’m afraid I don’t know madam.”

Y/N tried getting Tommy to talk, but it was useless. Suddenly he was more interested in the sky than in the interrogation she was making.

“Wow, look at that plane!” Charlie pointed out.

It was until then that Y/N realized of where they were going. The airport.

“Tommy.”

One look and she knew.

“Tom-”

“Just relax, okay?” He interrupted. “For once. All you need to do is get on that plane.”

“Can I ask…?”

“Nope.” He perched his signature Ray Bans against his nose and offered his hand so Y/N could get out of the car.

“Let’s go!” Charlie shouted, leaving them behind.

“Frances?” Y/N tried again.

“Oh Miss Y/LN I know the same thing as you.”

The crew of the private plane greeted them and offered drinks and breakfast, and Y/N still didn’t know the destination. She was worried not being able to take control over the smallest thing, because Tommy was taking care of absolutely everything.

“Fine.” She mumbled leaning against the window.

“Finally! Now we can start our little holiday.” Tommy squeezed her hand. “I know you didn’t feel like celebrating for what it means this time without your grandmother, but Y/N, she would wanted you to smile and be happy.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Wherever you choose to celebrate or not, your grandma will be right with you, in your heart.”

“I know, but it’s not the same without her.”

Tommy wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye tenderly.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you to spend this Christmas sitting on the couch crying.”

He wanted to compensate for her sadness. And although nothing would her back what she wanted the most, he could try to make her happy. He was right, and the effort meant more than she could express, so with a sigh she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment.

“Dad! Look!” Charlie’s nose was glued to the window. Frances looking over his shoulder.

That’s when Y/N realized….

“Paris?”

“We’ll always have Paris.” Tommy whispered.

Y/N wasn’t able to hold back the tears any longer.

She knew when she was around six years old, her grandma took her to Paris to visit some family, but the memories were blurred in her mind. Through her grandmother’s eyes she had been able to know some parts of their adventure together. A few photographs but that was pretty much all.

Either way, she felt a special connection to the place and that quote was something her grandmother constantly said, as it was one of greatest experiences she had with Y/N. And they both treasured it close to their hearts.

“It’s time to make our own memories.” Tommy’s voice made her go back into reality. “What do you say?”

She wanted to ask him a million questions, but decided to just let everything flow. In the end he really took care of everything, prepared even the smallest detail of their trip and gave her that reassuring smile that let her know everything would be alright.

As they stepped outside the airport, snow welcomed them, everything was covered in a white layer. But it only added an even more beautiful vibe to their trip.

“I love you, you know that?” Y/N closed her hands around his neck and pulled Tommy for a brief kiss while Frances and Charlie took their seats in the vehicle.

“I do.” He gave another one back. “And I love you too.”

“This is beautiful.” Y/N beamed as they rode through the Parisian streets.

“Actually… shall we stop?” Tommy proposed, while Y/N gave him a confused look. “It’s fine, Frances will make sure the bags are checked in and we’ll go back in a bit.”

Making sure Charlie had the scarf around his neck, Y/N covered her hands with her gloves, while Tommy’s hand wrapped around the small of her back as they strolled around.

“Dad I want to go the carrousel!” Charlie announced excitedly. With his father’s approval, the kid stormed towards the attraction impatiently.

“Bet you were just like that.” Y/N mumbled to herself but loud enough for Tommy to throw his head back and laugh.

“Guess you could say that.”

“Look! Just like Winter!” Charlie pointed at the white horse figure, thinking of their horse back home.

“Just like her huh? Think you can handle this one?”

“Of course, it’s a fake.” Charlie retorted making Y/N smile.

Paying for Charlie’s ticket, they stepped aside to see him riding.

Using her phone, Y/N captured a candid photo of Charlie waving at them, a big smile on his small face.

“What is it?”

“Nothin’ just wish Ruby could be here as well.” Tommy cleared his throat and pretended to be busy with a cigarette.

Y/N knew deep down that fearless man was a sweet man with a good heart who cared deeply of his people.

“I’m sure you’ll reach an agreement with Lizzie later on, she’s still a one year old girl.” Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder to comfort him.

“It’s hard to believe she’ll let me anywhere near Ruby.”

“You’re her father, you’ve the right to see her.”

These holidays had been hard for him as well.

“You know what? I don’t want to talk about anything that might ruin this, you, Charlie, me right here it’s all that matters.” He stated before taking a deep puff of smoke.

“Thank you, for cheering me up.” Stepping in front of him, Y/N captured his lips in a kiss full of gratitude.

“Careful, you might get us arrested and only one of us knows French.” Tommy joked with a sparkle in his eyes. His hands sneaking under her coat.

“I see why you brought Frances then.”

“I always have a plan.” He winked at her.

She could feel a thousand butterflies in her stomach by the way he smiled. “Santa said you’ve been a good girl.”

Y/N blushed. “Oh… and what about you mister?”

“Nah… I’m the bad boy your grandmother warned you about.” Another wink by him and she produced another smile as Charlie ran towards them. “But what you gonna do about it? It’s kind of late now to back down.” He added jokingly.

“She loved you too.” Bending down, Y/N asked Charlie if he enjoyed the ride. “Who wants some hot chocolate?”

“Me! Me! Me!” Charlie shouted.

Tommy groaned. “If you find the button to turn him off let me know.”

“You’re so mean, as if I did the same to you.”

“No, Y/N you turn me on.” Tommy admitted just before Y/N moved her hand to cover his mouth, he was taking advantage of Charlie’s innocence and the mischievous grin on his face gave him away.

Sipping on her hot chocolate cup, Y/N allowed a small glimpse of happiness, it was a beautiful place, the Christmas decoration providing a gorgeous sighting, everyone oozing happiness. The snowy weather made the sighting look out of a Christmas postal.

She was torn between enjoying her favorite season and the grief she carried in her heart. It was her first holidays without her grandmother and her empty chair was definitely evident. She was at a much better place now, no doubt but her absence felt heavy in Y/N’s heart.

Grief is just all the love with no place to go after all.

Noticing the sadness in her eyes, Tommy stopped at a stand, looking for the ornaments they had to decorate the Christmas tree.

“Are you looking for something special?” The man asked.

“Yes… a house ornament.” Tommy replied, feeling Y/N’s eyes on him. “Do you guys want something?”

“A reindeer!” Charlie’s eyes shining.

Y/N took her time studying the ornaments, until one caught her attention.

Following her eyes, Tommy had to swallow the lump in his throat. I have an Angel in heaven, called Grandma. It read. It was the one.

Kissing her temple, Tommy offered his embrace as they waited to get their decorations.

“Dad why did you choose the house?” Charlie asked with curiosity.

Getting a cab for them, he looked at his son. “I’ll tell you later about it.”

Y/N looked the exchange in silence, but also wondering the meaning behind his choice. She’s expect him to choose something with a dark humor behind instead.

“Look Charlie, the Eiffel Tower’s lights are flicking again.” Y/N pointed as they drove in the opposite direction, back to their hotel.

“Okay this is the plan, Charlie you’re heading to bed the second we step into the hotel, no questions. Tomorrow we’re having breakfast and then we’re going to a flea market.”

“Tommy…” Y/N gasped.

“What? You always said you wanted to see the Eiffel Tower and a flea market in that same order.”

“I know, but how do you remember?”

Scoffing, Tommy gave her the look. “Sweetheart, I pay attention.”

“Only thing that sucks is Santa doesn’t know I’m here.” Charlie complained once in front of their door.

With a smile, Tommy opened the door for them, making them both gasp loudly as they saw the huge Christmas tree in the middle, fully decorated with presents wrapped all around.

“Well I might have informed him we would be traveling and changed the address.” He admitted pleased with himself. He wanted them to have the nicest possible holiday. “Why don’t we add our ornaments?”

Tommy took her by surprise, not only for the trip, but for the tree as well, she thought about sneaking around the shops of the hotel to buy Charlie something thinking he wouldn’t get anything, but Tommy thought of everything.

“This is beautiful, thank you.” Y/N wrapped her arms around his torso, feeling so grateful to have him in her life.

“Presents are meant to be open until tomorrow morning though.”

“But Daaad.”

“No buts, off to bed.”

Pouting, Charlie walked towards Y/N. “Goodnight Y/N Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas Charlie, have a good night.” She hugged the boy and kissed the top of his head.

“Night Dad.” He then said. “Merry Christmas.”

“See you tomorrow son, Merry Christmas.”

Watching him disappear, Tommy took Y/N by the hand.

“Want to know why I chose the house?”

“Absolutely.” She brushed the fringe from his forehead with her fingers.

“Because that’s my only wish this Christmas… to build a home with you, Y/N. A proper house; our own title team, we’ve talked about the future, well it’s finally here, in this moment. You made me realize of what I truly want, what I dream of.” Getting on one knee, Tommy showed her an old jewelry box. “I know you miss your grandma terribly and no one will ever fill her place in your heart, but in some way, she found a way to show you she’ll always be right next to you, she gave me this ring, she wanted you to have it and be as happy as she was during her marriage. Will you marry me?”

He looked at her with tears in his eyes, fighting to say the words as emotions took over.

“Tommy…” bending down she kissed him. “Wait a second, this is her engagement ring?”

Taking the delicate piece from the box, he smiled proudly.

“Before she passed away, she gave it to me to propose you with her ring.”

Her head was spinning, her heart drumming against her ribs.

“She did what? When?” Shock was written all over her face.

“Can you please say yes first? So I can get up.” He groaned.

“Yes of course!” She kissed him again, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“When we took her to the clinic, as you were asked to fill the papers with her information, the nurse just left,” he explained as the memories of that day came back to him, “she asked me if I really loved you, to which the answer is pretty obvious. Then she asked me in case something happened to her to go to her house and open the safe to get her engagement ring and keep it until it was the right time to give it to you, she wanted you to have it as she knew how much you’d miss her.”

Y/N sobbed as Tommy’s voice cracked.

“She said to me make her even happier than I was, and the day she walks down the aisle, I’ll be right by her side.”

“I thought it was lost or stolen, as I went through her belongings.” Y/N wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes.

“She wanted you to have it, with a different meaning.”

“It’s the most perfect ring I’ve ever seen.” She looked down at her left hand, the stone shining under the chandelier.

“Just Iike you’re to me.” He pulled his now fiancé for a hug. “She wanted you to be happy, to live life to the fullest. Said you were her favorite grandchild.”

Her lower lip trembled just as his hands came to rest at each side of her head.

“Just don’t let anyone else listen.” They said in unison to what Y/N’s grandma used to confess.

“I know you lost a huge part of yourself when she left. But you have to know that you were right beside her through everything, you enjoyed her in every moment, every visit, dinner and chance you had, you took care of her until her very last breath, and no one can take that away from you. Find peace in that. You loved her as much as she loved you.”

Tommy caressed her face with his thumbs.

“Now you have to keep that promise, and be happy. For her. For us.”

Y/N could only nod. Words were stuck in her throat.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Y/N expressed in a whisper, staring at her grandmother’s engagement ring.

“We’re getting married.” Tommy assured her, thumbs caressing her cheeks. “Eh? Soon to be Mrs. Shelby.”

Y/N blushed. “That sounds promising.”

Taking her by surprise, Tommy grabbed her from the waist to spin her around, making Y/N gasp and hold onto him tightly.

Trying to hold back the tears, Y/N hugged Tommy closing her eyes for an instant.

“What’s crossing your mind?” He asked.

And for the first time in a while, he saw the way the smile reached Y/N’s eyes.

“Thinking how grandma will always be with me.”

****

As usual your feedback means the world to me ♥️✨

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @red-riding-wood

#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby x you #peaky blinders imagine #modern thomas shelby

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luvergirl777 · 7 months

Text

If Not With You - N.S

Pairing | Neteyam Sully x Human Reader

Word Count | 19k, whoops.

Genre | Acquaintances to lovers? Fluff, they're both dumb and can't drop a hint to save their life, SMUT.

Summary | Neteyam never understood you, and he doesn't think he ever will. Your skin is a different color than his, you're a solid 5 feet shorter than him, your native language is different than his, he could go on forever. He doesn't think he'll ever understand, until he watches you struggle with a knife for 10 minutes and graciously offers his services to you. Suddenly, he's bitten off more than he realizes.

Index | Bickering back and forth, the reader takes every chance she can get to be snarky, Neteyam does too though, purring Neteyam, two idiots in love, smut, creampie, soft!dom Neteyam (service dom kind of), a brief mention of breeding lol. Let me know if I missed anything that should be noted!

You confuse Neteyam in almost all aspects of your being. You’re human, so painfully alien as you run around the high grounds, scurrying to climb around the home tree to the best of your ability, scurrying to provide his grandmother with herbs for the wounded. So painfully human as you sit on the ground, weaving clothes 3 times your size for protection for warriors during time of battle. Painfully human as you cling to Kiri’s ikran (it’s the “least scary” you say) when you join foraging trips, not used to flying. And so painfully human despite having an Avatar sleeping less than 20 feet away, perfectly fine and ready to be used. His father had mentioned something about you not feeling comfortable or welcomed in your avatar body, not taught how to use it properly yet, somehow feeling more accepted as a human.

You’ve lived your entire life here as a human, mostly. You were given your avatar more recently within the last couple of years, the Avatar taking a while to fully grow and become yours. Still, he’s maybe only seen it once. You wear the clothes, join the songs, dance in the festivals, forage and gather, weave, fish, help the wounded, everything you can physically do, you do. Because of your size, you sometimes struggle with preparing, gathering, and foraging through the forest. It takes you much more effort and time to scale fallen logs and rocks than others. It’s never made any sense, it still doesn’t to him. As you prepare a sturmbeest with some of the others for tonight’s meal, you bewilder him even more.

“Here, let me help you.” Neteyam offers quickly as he sees you struggling to cut. He's afraid you’re going to slip and hurt yourself, the effort it takes to cut makes your hands shake where they hold your blade. It would be no issue in your avatar body, he’s sure of it but he doesn’t bring it up. After cutting through the hard part, he’s quick to hand you back the small knife to avoid taking over your village duty. “You know if-“

“If I was in my Avatar body I’d be able to do it?” You finish his sentence, glancing up at him. While you quickly divert your gaze, he catches the small look of shame you have before you return to the task that requires all your attention.

“No, no. I was going to say if you need help, you can just call again.” He smiles, shaking his head softly. At this, you can’t help but jokingly scoff at him.

“But you were thinking about it.”

“Hmmm, I was not! You have no proof.”

“That’s how everyone thinks, it’s fine to admit it Neteyam.” You chuckle, resuming your complete focus on the sturmbeest you’re more determined than ever to cut up now thanks to him. “Plus, shouldn’t you be preparing for the meal? Making sure everyone is accounted for and what not.” You're essentially telling him to get back to his tasks.

“I am, making sure you’re accounted for. The way you’re wielding that knife I'm afraid you’ll go missing.” He teases you, pointing out the amount of effort you’re using to cut through the meat. “Also, if you don’t mind me asking since you brought it up, FYI, why aren’t you in your Avatar?”

You sigh, and for a brief moment Neteyam thinks he’s overstepped his welcome. “No one really taught me how to use it. I suppose it’s all the same mechanics as controlling myself, but to an extent I don't feel connected. Your father said he felt the same at first, and offered to teach me but got busy with olo'eyktan duties, which is understandable. I haven't felt comfortable enough to ask him, it takes a lot of time that I'm sure he doesn’t have, you know?”

“I can help you.” Neteyam offers before he has a chance to rethink it.

“I think you’re also too busy, future olo'eyktan .” You turn your attention to him for a brief moment before resuming. “Plus, it’s not the culture or village life. I've grown up here, I understand that much. It’s the connection, and being in my body. I don't think you’d understand what I mean.”

“I think you just need practice in a safe area where you don't have to worry. I can be your lookout while you get used to your body, who better than me?” Neteyam’s confidence grows as he offers you his gracious services. His smirk threatens to fall a bit as you glare up at him, but he’s determined to convince you regardless.

“Your dad.” He interrupts your train of thought with a pained expression, making you giggle. “But I suppose since he’s unavailable, you’re the next best option.”

“Ouch.” He jokes, placing a hand over his heart. “So we'll start tomorrow, little human?” He cheekily adds, beginning to step away from you to return to his head counting job.

He smiles softly as you stick your tongue at him, turning back to finish your job as well. His heart beats hard in his chest, his adrenaline slowly beginning to run off as he checks to make sure everything is going as it should. As he sits next to his mother, the slight panic begins to settle in as he waits for you to join the feast.

His mother notices the odd, out of place, anxious energy from her son. He’s not usually like this, his demeanor is off. “Neteyam?” She asks, nudging him softly.

Neteyam faces her with more confidence now, attempting to get his mood back. “Yes, mother?”

“Are you feeling okay?” She reaches out for a brief moment, pressing her hand against his forehead. At this, he smiles softly before pushing her hand away by the wrist. She smiles softly at him, returning to talking to the others. Small cheers erupt as everyone begins to bring in the food, carrying trays and trays of food. He catches a small glimpse of you, following behind the others carrying trays. You’re not carrying anything, preoccupied with cleaning your knife before placing it back on your hip. You settle down behind most of the others, allowing others to get their food before you. He’s extremely observant of you now, he always has been, but it’s even more now.

Dinner goes by as always, everyone talking, joking, telling stories with one another. You conversate every now and then, happily listening to stories that the other villagers tell you about hunts and raids they have been on. He feels hyper aware of your presence now, watching as a tail jokingly wraps around your waist and knocks you off balance. You smile, jokingly hitting the other people while saying something he can't pick up. Your smile is pretty, so pretty.

It almost feels impossible tearing his eyes away, but eventually he does. He begins to actually engage in his family conversation, listening to his mother and fathers stories. He can't wait for the next day to come, fighting to fall asleep. It feels like hours before he dozes off.

Neteyam is grabbed by his father before he can actually slip away, a firm hand on his shoulder stopping all of his momentum. “Where are you off to?” His father asks, tugging slightly to turn him around to face him. Neteyam groans in his head, tail flicking slightly behind him. His ears quickly pin down as a reflex.

“To the labs.” He answers plainly, hoping his father just lets him go with no further questioning. It’s all hopeful thinking, he knows that he will be questioned further. He wants to go, you’re probably waiting for him there now. You’re always on time, never keeping anyone else waiting on you for too long.

“For what? Are you not coming on watch today?” Jake asks, the grip on his shoulder tightening slightly. Neteyams ears flatten further, tail flicking more aggressively.

“I promised someone I would help them in the lab.” Neteyam answers. “I will be back later today.”

“Later today?!” Jake asks, releasing him in return for putting his hands on his hips. At the commotion, Neytiri comes out to see what’s going on. Jake gives her the rundown, “He is skipping watch to help the labs.” At this, Neteyam groans softly, the description not at all accurate or reflecting him.

“Sa’nok,” Neteyam mumbles softly, “I promised,”

“He hasn’t missed a watch in weeks.” Neytiri points out. “He’s also helping someone, he doesn’t need to come on every watch. Go, Neteyam.”

At this, he bows softly before hightailing it out of the area as quickly as possible. He thanks Eywa for his mother intervening, moving as quickly as possible to get to the labs. Sure enough, you’re waiting for him inside. You seem agitated already, sitting on one of the tables as you swing your legs back and forth. He’s quickly apologizing for keeping you waiting, explaining his situation as quickly as possible.

“It’s okay, Nete.” You shrug, hopping down and walking over to the pods, known as link units. “Are you sure you want to do this? I’m gonna look like a baby deer and complain the entire time.” You whine, trying to convince him otherwise.

“Are you trying to get me not to, or do you not want to? It sounds like you don’t want to.”

“I’m scared.” You admit, sighing softly. Neteyam offers a solemn expression, encouraging you softly as he pops open the link pod. He helps you climb in, offering a hand as you hop backwards into the memory foam. The beads on your chest cover clink loudly at the momentum, filling the otherwise silent lab. Max enters the lab, late, but still there. You trust him the most to help you link and check all of your vitals, others making you too nervous.

“I’m going to come and get you once I make sure you link, where is your Avatar?” Neteyam asks as you lay down, holding the top of the pod as he leans down to talk with you. Your breathing is irregular, nerves shaking you to your cure. “I will be there, Y/n, to get you. I’ll be there for every step.”

“My Avatar is all the way at the high camp.” You tell him, “I’ll wait for you though.”

“I’ll be there, as fast as possible.” He ensures you, stepping away to let Max do his job to link you to your Avatar. Neteyam fiddles with the oxygen mask around his neck, playing with the strings as he watches you get settled in. As the pod closes, he turns to the screens that show your vitals. Your breathing is increased, but Max explains that’s to be expected when someone hasn’t linked for a while, “Normal nerves,” He calls them.

“She should be in, I would hurry to make sure she's not freaking out.” And Neteyam does. He doesn’t think he’s ever flown as fast before, his ikran cutting through the air. He gets to high camp as fast as possible, running to the Avatar sleeping area. You’re sitting up, playing with your hands as you wait for him.

“Y/n! Look at you! You look like me.” Neteyam beams happily, running over to you. He helps you up, offering his hand as you stand. You stand easily, but still have a look of uneasiness written across your face. He notices your ears remain down, pinned back with worry. Every now and then, they’ll perk up for the briefest moment before going back. Cute. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I feel fine, I just think I'm a bit hungry since I haven't been in this body for a while.” You explain, beginning to walk through the Avatar area. Your Avatar reminds him of his siblings, five fingers and toes, eyebrows, etc. You’re walking fine, a bit wobbly on certain areas of uneven terrain, checking a couple of times behind you to make sure he’s close. The camp is busy as always, people running around to fulfill their duties. You navigate the commotion easily though, heading over to the edge of the base.

“Are you okay to fly?” Neteyam asks, clicking and calling out to his ikran. You nod, shakily, but still saying yes. His ikran is quick to land on the rocks, calming down as Neteyam connects his tswin and readies to mount. He gets on first, reaching to grab your hand and help you sling your leg over. “You can use the saddle and the hold here.” Neteyam speaks, guiding you to sit. He reaches around you, holding your hand and wrapping it around the leather hold. The strong animal flaps his wings underneath you, making your nerves set in as you already begin slipping off to one side.

“You’re okay, It’ll get easier once he’s moving.” He reassures you, using one arm to wrap around your waist, pulling you back upright. A small blush spreads across your face, your bodies extremely close to one another as he’s focused on your well-being.

“What about you? Are you going to be okay with flying?” You ask, seeing as he has no secure hold. He’s not using the saddle, nor the holds.

“Yes, I will be okay.” He reassures, holding where his tswin is connected. You trust him, and you trust his ability to fly more than anyone else. Even still, nerves bubble in your chest. “I’ll fly as carefully as possible for you, just hold on, okay?”

“Yes, I will.” You nod, tightening the hold on the leather underneath your palms. Even though you prepared yourself, the shriek that leaves your body as his ikran drops is involuntary. You can hear Neteyam’s faint chuckle in your ear, leaning forward as he guides his ikran. His hair brushes along your shoulder as he leans forward, goosebumps spreading across your arms. His arm tightens the slightest bit around your waist, ensuring you don’t lean too far forward and lose your balance. “Where are we heading?” You yell over your shoulder, the wind loud in your ears.

“To find you something to eat!” Neteyam calls back, “We’ll be walking around the forest, give you some time to get used to your body without anyone else being around to pressure you.”

You nod, looking forward to observe where you’re going. Neteyam flies as smoothly as possible for you, communicating to his ikran to stay calm as much as possible. The forest is extremely dense, flying through the trees and hanging vines with expert skill. Neteyam once again chuckles as he sees your grip tighten, both on the leather hold and your legs where they squeeze his ikran for purchase. Landing, the jungle is dense as he hops down.

You land right after, the grass underneath your feet soft and plush. “Are we finding fruit?” You smile, beginning to trail off from him. Neteyam has to hide the smile, unconnecting as he dismisses his Seze. The grass is so soft underneath your feet, each step cushiony. You’re good at foraging, using all your skills and knowledge you’ve learned over the years. “Here, Nete,” You smile softly, handing him two fruits. Neteyam becomes your Navi basket, arms carrying everything you collect. He's more than happy to follow you around, eventually coaxing you to come sit once you’ve got enough.

“You need to eat,” Neteyam says, soft but firm as he begins making his way to the river. He finds a soft area of grass, plopping down before softly letting the fruits follow. You join, watching Neteyam carefully as he dips the fruits into the river, cleaning them before handing them over with a big smile. “They’ll taste even better in this body,” He almost promises.

And they do. They genuinely do.Your taste buds are alive and so heightened, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you eat. “It’s good,” You grin, devouring the fruits that your body so desperately needs, gaining some semblance of energy back.

“Do you still feel okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s still weird, I know it’s me, but it doesn’t feel like me. Moving is weird, everything is a conscious effort.” You try to explain to him.

“Does that include your ears being down?” He asks, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he teases softly. “It's cute, don’t get me wrong, but not normal.”

Once again, you have to consciously pull your ears up like the natural position they’re held at. When you forget, they fall back down. Neteyam pins his ears, signaling to you that you’re doing it again. It works perfectly, your ears perking up once more.

“See? It’s too hard.” You smile, “We should just go back, say we tried hard.” You plead, making him laugh. You know he’d never, too much determination and pride in his chest to ever allow it.

“You just need more time in this body, I’m sure of it.” Neteyam answers, shaking his head no as you whine. “We haven’t even got you running yet.”

At this you groan, flopping backwards on the soft grass as you complain. You quickly get lost in it, the ground so soft, the sun so warm on your skin. It's comforting, much needed vitamin D.

Despite ALL of your complaining, which was a lot, your body does prove more efficient than your human body. It moves through the terrain easier, scales the rocks and jumps over the fallen trees with no problem, runs as if it was made to do only that. Climbing was nothing you've ever wanted to do until now, and you find yourself playing in the trees like a child again. Climbing as a human is too hard, but this is easy, so it’s FUN.

“Neteyam! You’re not joining!” You call from treetop, Neteyam watching carefully from the ground. He follows along when you stray too far, watching with careful eyes. It's endearing, how careful he is.

“It's okay, you’re doing great!” He calls happily.

You take it as enough confirmation that he’s okay with what’s happening, you having fun while he remains down there. Soon enough, he’s running on the ground to keep up with you. Not that he minds, he has the stamina for it. “Are you having fun!?” He happily calls, splashing through a shallow river as he follows you.

“Yes! This is amazing,” You answer before beginning to come down. Your hands and feet are sore, unused to the rough nature of aggressive use. You don’t pay much attention, joining Neteyam in the cool water of the river, finding some relief. “It's nice, feels nice.”

Neteyam fights off the urge to say “I told you so,” instead providing you with encouraging praise. Neteyam wants to teach you everything, he almost itches for it. He's already making a list in his head of everything he could offer you that you don’t know in this body.

Hunting, riding, flying, swimming, scaling home tree, fighting if you’d like, archery. You know how to weave, arguably better than him, so that’s not something he can claim he taught. Along with foraging and gathering, healing, you also know the dances and songs, and basic craft skills that he can’t claim credit for. But what he can, he will. For today though, he lets you run, and play, and frolic through the grass. He follows you, never losing sight of his surroundings. He'll provide some knowledge here and there, but nothing too crazy.

You’re exhausted as the sun begins to set, leaning against Neteyams seated body. “We should head back,” You mumble, praying he’ll let you go back this time. He agrees, not wanting to stay out too late for the creatures that come out.

“We should, we can eat with the people,” He sees another learning opportunity. He stands, leaving you to support your own weight. You watch as he clicks and calls, his ikran coming down soon after. You can feel the exhaustion from the soon-ride, getting up with a grunt.

“What if I just hold onto you?” It’s a real question, you’re trying to find out if that would be more or less tiring.

“If you'd like,” He blushes the slightest bit as he faces away from you. Neteyam gets on first, now sitting on the saddle and holding the leather hold. He helps you climb behind him, “You still sure?” He asks, double checking with you since you have no secure holds. Your arms wrap tightly around his waist, torsos flush together. You can hold here, and with your legs.

“Yes, this is okay,” It feels slightly unsafe compared to the saddle, but it’s less taxing on your body. You also can’t see much over his frame, but you don’t mind. “Thank you, Neteyam, it’s fun,” You talk with him. Your voice vibrates off him, bouncing off his skin.

“Of course,” He beams even though you can’t see it. You arrive at the home tree soon enough, high in the trees where the ikrans stay. Neteyam leads you to the people for dinner, extremely careful that you don’t lose your balance in the high branches. When you have to hop down a considerable amount, he’s extra careful, going first as an example. He waits each time for you, always ready to catch if he ever needs to. With a relieved breath, he doesn’t need to, and you both make it to dinner without a hitch.

“Sa’nok, Sempul,” Neteyam greets his family, bringing his hand to his forehead. You immediately follow along, greeting the leaders of your clan. “Would you mind Y/n eating with us tonight?”

“Oh, no no it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude-“

“Of course,” Jake smiles happily, genuinely excited to see you in your Avatar body. His hand lands softly onto your shoulder, examining your body. “How’s it feeling?”

“Good! Good. It’s a lot of fun,” You smile, giving him a brief overview of your day spent doing nothing but pushing it. He grins, remembering his own days of running with his body for the first time. He tells you the story, beckoning you to sit with his family as he does so. You do, sitting next to Neteyam and Kiri. You know Kiri well, always working together in the healer's hut with her and Tsahìk.

You know Lo’ak as well, but the two of you don’t talk much besides brief, common interactions. Regardless, you have nothing against him. And Tuk? Tuk is just adorable. You briefly remember gifting her an ikran toy when she was younger, handmade by you. You’re sure she has no recollection of it, much too young. But you don’t mind at all. You all share stories, you mainly listen as you don’t have many that are as exciting as theirs. Neytiri’s intrigue you the most, ears naturally perking up every time she speaks about something.

Neteyam notices, a small smile spreading across his face as he eats. They flatten when silence takes over the conversation, obviously uncomfortable. The night wraps up like always, but Neteyam is sure to check on not only your Avatar, but also your human body. He makes sure both of your forms get to bed safely before he returns to his family's area, settling in.

The days turn into weeks of getting used to your body. Neteyam teaches you everything he can, everything that comes to mind. You’re surprisingly good at archery, but guilt kills you when hunting. Even with the knowledge of clean, respectful kills, it’s not your favorite. Riding also comes natural to you, connecting with Pa’li as if you were born native. You become comfortable in your Avatar body, trusting your body’s movements and mind. You run, scale, leap, climb, crawl, swim, everything as if you were born in this body. As you land clean kill after clean kill, and join in on the hunting festivals, Neteyam begins to push you softly in the direction of iknimaya, taming your ikran.

“Neteyam, it’s scary.” You defend yourself as you prepare meat for tonight’s dinner. Your Avatar body slices through easily, never struggling for more than a couple of moments. “They’re scary.”

“I know, I know.” He sighs, “But-“

“Neteyam, I don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s scary, and I could die.”

“You can die at any time.“ You send him a strong glare, ending the conversation without another word being shared with each other. You’re done talking about it for tonight, placing the meat on a serving platter. You don’t talk about it for a while, going on about your lessons and training, learning more and more each day.

You’re out in the forest, a routine day unfolding. Your body and mind feel like yours, Neteyam also begins to wander away from you further and further. If it comes down to it, you can defend yourself to some extent. He's doing just that when a blood curdling scream rips through the forest, catching his attention immediately. His feet are moving faster than his brain, running.

“NETEYAM!” You scream again, feet remaining planted firm in front of the animal in front of you. Your heartbeat is rapid as you stare down the creature, trying to figure out its next course of action. Stepping a couple of feet back, your fingers immediately begin to reach for the knife that’s secured across your chest. “It’s not moving, Nete. I don’t know what to do.” You speak, more calmly now as the palulukan has made no action to pursue you yet. Still, you unsheathe your knife just in case. It wouldn’t help much if it attacked, but it gives you some peace of mind for the current circumstances.

“Is it not pursuing?” Neteyam asks, and you can hear his faint footsteps running to get to you in the distance. It’s still in the same place it was, still staring at you.

“No! It’s just staring at me!” You yell back, trying to hold your ground as much as possible. Your knees shake the slightest bit, which you try to calm. If you turn and run, you could possibly outsmart it. However, as soon as you turn you’re sure it would immediately begin its pursuit on you. Neteyam eventually finds you, keeping his distance as he accesses the situation as much as possible.

“I know what I’m going to say, you will not like-“

“Nete!”

“I know, I know! But step up to it. Slowly, you’re not pouncing on her, but stepping up.” You want to scream at him, it sounds like a stupid idea. However, you don’t think there’s anyone you trust more with your general well-being than him. “Trust me! If something happens, I'm right behind you, jumping in.”

“You promise?” You never break your eye contact, but you know Neteyam is staring directly at you. Taking a step, you can hear the faint “Promise” that Neteyam mumbles out softly. Another step comes, and the creature still hasn’t moved a single inch from where you were first confronted by it. Now you’re in attacking distance again, if you reached fully out you would surely touch it on the head. For the first time, it moved. It leans down, and it takes everything in your willpower to not start instinctively booking it at the first sign of movement, “Neteyam?”

“Tsaheylu, make the bond. She’s offering to you.” Neteyam explains, stepping a bit closer as the tense environment of the situation has lessened. “It’s okay, she’s submitting to you, Y/n.”

You’re still too afraid to break eye contact to look at Neteyam, your eyes never leaving her as you reach back for your kuru. As soon as the tsaheylu is made, a rush of relief washes over you. “Thank Eywa, thank Eywa,” You mumble, walking to its side and swinging yourself over the animal. Your heartbeat calms down with the animals, and you finally are able to feel her strength and power. She's unlike anything else you've ridden, not a ikran, not pa’li. Once you’re fully bonded, Neteyam feels safe enough to approach.

“Scary?” He giggles, his hand coming to rest on your calf where it sits on the palulukan’s side. You can feel his thumb run across your skin comfortingly, making you smile as you face away from him.

“Just a bit, she feels…kind?” You ask, despite him having no idea. “Her thoughts, her power and strength, is kind?”

“I see, you feel her? You’re getting the hang of this whole, tsaheylu, kuru thing.” He smiles at you, walking behind you and hopping on. Even at the sudden movement, she still doesn’t think of any harm or reaction in a negative manner. You absolutely beam, reaching forward and petting the space at her forehead essentially. “Should I hold on?” Neteyam chuckles behind you.

“Oh yes, 100%. Strong.” Is all you offer him before beginning to move, just walking but still feeling the absolute power she holds.

“I trust you.” Neteyam smiles, leaning forward to wrap his arms around your waist. The contact makes your face flush hot, immediately pushing it away from your thoughts as you begin to run, easily jumping and clearing anything in the forest floor. Once again, it’s a completely different ride than you’re used to, you and Neteyam whooping, laughing, and shrieking when you particularly jerk and almost slide off. Slowing to a stop, you find yourself at the edge of the river. You gently rub her shoulder in warning as you slide off, patting her gently. You break the tsaheylu, watching in case she flees. Instead, she stays, drinks water, settles down with the both of you where you sit on the soft grass.

“What about her family?” You ask Neteyam as if he would know the answer. Neteyam shrugs softly, unsure himself. He has no answer for this, logically.

“She seems to want you more.”

“I see,”

“Y/n, you are more than ready for iknimaya,”

There’s a loud sigh filling the peace of the forest. You hum, finally giving in. “Fine, Neteyam.” You sigh, watching as the thanator creeps towards you, laying down next to where you’re seated. “I’ll complete my iknimaya.” You nod, finalizing your statement.

“The next trip is in one week,”

You nod. You have one week to fully prepare yourself and the people around you. If anything, you’ll retreat at the first sign you can’t do it. Still, you dread the trip.

You and Neteyam decide not to bring your thanator back, scared of the commotion she may cause. You promise to return to her in the forest in the opening you met at, bidding her goodbye in the meantime. With one final reassuring pet, she runs off.

The days creep by, anxiety beginning to find its hold over you for your upcoming rite of passage completion.

“It's my day off from lessons, Neteyam!” You poke your tongue out at him as he peels open your hammock, giving you no other option but to fully wake up. The hammock, suspended on two branches of the home tree, sways hazardously as he kneels down. He's almost, he is, towering over your human form like this, poking and prodding you until you get up.

“Just because it’s your day off doesn’t mean we can’t hang out. What, I have to make reservations now?” Neteyam jokes, beaming at you as you finally rise, easily jumping onto a nearby branch to get going. Even as you stretch out completely, he’s a solid 3 feet taller than you still. “I was thinking we can just chill today, though. Nothing crazy, no village duties.”

“Your father let you off village duties?”

“Well no, but-“

“He’s gonna end up hating me.” It’s half joking, half not. You stop walking, instead turning around to face him. “Go back,” You chuckle, pushing Neteyam’s stomach. There’s enough force for little imprints to appear in his skin, but not nearly enough to move the giant. “I'm serious, he’s gonna start blaming me for you being absent all the time.”

“Hmmm,” Neteyam pretends to think for a moment, tapping his bottom lip. “No.” Before you have a chance to react, Neteyam easily grabs both of your wrists in one palm. With one easy motion, you’re being swung through the air before landing on his back. He chuckles as you smack his shoulder for endangering your life like that, swinging you over the open area of the home tree sleeping area. (Even though you know he’d never drop you, even accidentally.) “C’mon, don’t worry about him. I'll be the one answering anyway.”

“I’m serious, you’re gonna get yourself in trouble. Like Lo’ak.” You chuckle, and he scoffs at the accusations.

“Never in a million years,” While the two of you talk, Neteyam easily scales the home tree and arrives at the ikrans in no time at all. “Plus, we can’t get in trouble if he can’t find me.”

“This is stupid, and you know it.” You smile hard despite all your scolding, a specialness filling your chest that Neteyam would want to spend your days with you, even though it meant trouble for him. Once again, he nonchalantly shakes his head before calling down his ikran, quickly calming her for your sake.

“Come on, we only have all day.” He jokes, offering his palm for you to climb up. You still hate flying, especially as a human just because of the size and how scary trying to hold on is. (Balance isn’t your thing and Neteyam is basically an expert flyer, aka, crazy ass flyer.) Still, you suck it up as he takes you to your destination. It's a familiar area, pretty river, pretty flowers, and nearby fruit trees that you’re for sure going to devour when the time comes.

You beam, hopping down before Neteyam and running over to dip your feet in the clear water. If Neteyams is lucky, you won’t start a water fight the moment he walks over. He approaches with caution, attacked one too many times to not be. Even as no attack ensures, he’s still sure to sit down carefully in case there’s some other sneak attack waiting around the corner.

Instead, you both sit and watch the water for a bit. It’s a comfortable silence, a shared one at that. “I made you something.” You speak softly, finally breaking the silence, nerves flashing across your face when Neteyam doesn’t look over right away. “Just a small thing, nothing serious.”

“Sorry, the fish over there- you were saying?”

“I made you something.”

“No, no-“

“It’s already made, it’d be rude to not accept it.” You chuckle, beginning to dig through your medicinal pouch (That’s supposed to be used for plants and herbs.) Neteyam watches carefully as you pull out a riding visor, carefully braided and woven to very little details. The small wings that make up the visor are in perfect condition, not even a small crack on them.

“I know you have one, but I feel bad about the wings I broke on it.” You chuckle, handing it over to him. You were once riding with him in your human form and felt uneasy. As you slipped off to one side, you instinctively reached up to him, breaking the fragile protective wings on his visor. As you place it in his hands, your hands linger against one another’s for just a moment too long before you pull away. “And one more thing.”

“You shouldn’t have-“

“I wanted to, Neteyam. In my free time, or days where we couldn’t practice because you had work.” You interrupt him, watching the soft smile slowly spread across his face. “This is your last gift, so don’t get all excited, it’s nothing crazy.”

“I will get excited, it’s from you.” Neteyam hums softly, watching as you prepare to present your gift.

“Shut your eyes, don’t open until I say.”

“How is that fair!”

“Warriors honor!! Shut your eyes!” You giggle loudly, standing up next to Neteyam. You’re not much taller than him even when he sits, but neither of you mention it. “No peeking, or else I'm taking it back.”

“Fineee,” He sighs, finally following along with your shenanigans. Finally, you pull out your gift. It’s a simple necklace in theory, however you modeled its design after traditional warrior necklaces that have gone out of trend in recent years. Small goosebumps spread across Neteyam’s skin as your fingertips graze his skin, jumping slightly as you gently move his kuru.

“Sorry, sorry.” You quickly apologize, watching as the goosebumps spread across his nape. You didn’t even think before you did it, out of instinct. You finish quickly after that, wanting to put some distance in between you two. “Look in the water.”

He does, a giant smile spread across his face when he finds your eyes again. “You made this for me?”

“Of course, who else?” You giggle, reaching out to run your fingers across the beads. Neteyam catches your forearm before you have a chance to move away once more, accidentally jerking you forward into his arms. You land with a huff, Neteyam quickly wrapping you in his embrace. So small compared to him, fitting in his arms like nothing at all. Your skin is so soft against his, his fingertips easily making small indents in your arms where he holds you close.

“Thank you Y/n.” Neteyam mumbles softly, eyes falling shut as he gets lost in holding you, your scent, your voice. His eyes peel open the slightest bit as you begin to shuffle, preparing to release you as soon as you make a move to. Instead, you’re reaching up, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hug him close. Your knees are resting on his thighs, having to kneel in order to even reach. He can feel your beaded top against his chest, feel your heartbeat if he focuses hard enough on it. He’s sure you can feel his too, now beating a million miles a second.

“Of course, a warrior necklace for a mighty warrior,” You mumble, almost directly into his ear unintentionally, goosebumps spreading all along his body. He shudders, making you pull back softly, peering at him with a careful look. Suddenly, he’s even more aware of the proximity and you on his lap.

“Sorry, I just got a chill. Must be because my father is looking for me,” He smiles, covering up for himself. You laugh softly, carefully climbing off and sitting back by the river. You lay down, sun washing over your skin. Neteyam’s eyes soak it all in, not a sight that’s very common. He joins you after a bit, talking about any random topic that comes to mind.

“Nete, can I ask you something weird?”

“Anything,”

“What does your kuru feel like? I'm not sure if it’s different for me, but you seem to be much more sensitive.” You ask softly, scared of overstepping your welcome when it comes to his teaching.

As he lays next to you, he’s acutely aware of how much larger his frame is. “Hm, I suppose I am sensitive. But only when I want to be, with people I want to be.” He answers, hinting slightly. He's more than aware it’s going to fly over your head.

“Uhm. When Na’vi chooses their mate, and they, uhm mate, is it the same tsaheylu as our bond with animals? With our mounts?”

“Hmm, I'm not sure. I haven’t been there yet.” He chuckles softly, but still does his best to answer. “I suppose they are connected in the same way, but you cannot control them as if you are on a mount. You cannot think about going, and expect the other to go. It’s more of a spiritual connection, being completely with the other. I suppose we also feel the other's sensations and emotions, but control is not the aspect of it.”

“Why are you so sensitive with yours?”

“It is my nervous system, if I wasn’t something would be seriously wrong.” He answers sarcastically, making the both of you laugh.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, your eyes closing as you soak up the sun.

“Neteyam?”

“Hm?”

“I'm scared.” It’s vulnerable and the truth, you’re terrified. “If I fall, will you catch me?” You’re completely dead serious, terrified of falling off the cliff.

“Of course, I'll fly Seze.” He promises you. You sigh, nodding your head.

The day slips through your grasp before you can even hold onto it for a second, night quickly approaching. You and Neteyam slowly make your way back to home tree, you much slower, as you purposely get further and further behind. Neteyam knows, and he could definitely guess why you’re acting so strange. He doesn’t push you, just slows down his pace tenfold to allow you to catch up and even pass him. Ever so observant, he watches as your fists clench tight as your feet come to a gradual stop.

“Neteyam, spend tonight with me.” You rush, quickly. You quickly turn around to peer up at him, catching the small smile that’s already pulling at the corners of his mouth. Your fists are still clenched as you wait for his response to your borderline demand.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re asking, demanding the future Olo'eyktan around?” Neteyam boasts, jokingly puffing out his chest before he’s dropping into a squat to be more eye-level with your form. “Y/n?”

You almost knock him off balance as you ambush him, smaller body crashing against his as your arms fly around his neck. He regains his composure just as quickly, arms wrapping around you. “I'm scared.” You mumble against his ear, goosebumps shooting down his spine. “Just in case something happens.” You continue to mumble, borderline against his skin. “I want to spend tonight with you.” Your arms never loosen their hold, not giving him much leeway.

“Nothing will happen, Y/n.” He reassures you, easily picking up both of your body weight as he stands. He doesn’t pry you away, instead he wraps his arms around your torso as he easily carries you through the branches. “I promise, you will do amazing.” He fights to reassure you, lips brushing against your ear.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, I do.” He giggles softly, finally arriving at the sleeping hammocks after what feels like forever. (The close proximity is going straight to his head.) “You need rest though, my mighty warrior.” Neteyam gives you a wide grin as you pull away, smiling back softly at him. “I won’t leave you, if that’s what you want.'' He carefully maneuvers your weight into one arm, the other assisting him as he climbs into the hammock. Laying on his back, a content sigh slips through your lips as you rest on his chest.

“Neteyam, if I fail, what will you do?” You mumble, avoiding his gaze as your head never lifts as you speak to him.

“I will catch you.” He answers back almost immediately, not missing a single beat. It makes you smile, reassures you, calms your nerves just the slightest bit as he promises.

“Neteyam?”

“You're supposed to shut your eyes, syulang.” He teases as you continue your questioning.

“Can we go to the labs?” It's now Neteyam’s turn to ask questions, you never want to be in the lab. Never once have you asked to go there.

“Huh?”

“My mask is annoying, I'm getting used to not having it on.” Okay, he supposes that makes sense. Eases his nerves that you’re falling into your more human side than that of the culture and of the people. He lets out a puff of air he didn’t realize he was holding, climbing onto his feet carefully with you still in his arms. He wobbles like an idiot climbing out, regaining his balance once his feet hit the tree branch.

As always, Neteyam moves swiftly despite your weight remaining fixed to his back. You're tired, slowly slipping further and further down, making it hard for him to move as easily. “Y/n, you’re killing me,” Neteyam chuckles softly, reaching behind him to pull you up his back. He easily drops you onto his shoulders, continuing the fast pace he was previously at. He’s dumb, he definitely did not think this one through. Each movement has your legs clenching tightly, scared to fall from so high up. He can feel your warmth, so close. Each time you shuffle, he can smell you, so close it’s making him dizzy. Mustering all his strength up, he pushes on.

He thanks Eywa under his breath when he sets you down, still feeling the warmth on his shoulders where you once were. He hums softly as he grabs a mask, fiddling with the annoying thing as he places it over his head. He watches as you happily rip off your mask, rubbing at the red lines it left behind on your face. The lab is empty, everyone out for the night, likely sleeping up at high camp with the Avatar lab. Neteyam follows you loosely as you wander around, eventually slipping into a room. It’s small, for Neteyam. However, for you, the bed is giant as you plop dead in the middle of it.

“Neteyammm,” You sing-song to him, beckoning him over on the small bed. He curls and concorts, knees coming up as you lay almost encircled by him. Your face is engulfed in a smile, hands reaching up to play with his hair. “Maybe after I become a warrior I’ll rebraid your hair. You’ve been so busy.” You mumble softly, continuing to play softly with it. Your fingers brush over his kuru, a shudder running down his spine before he can stop it. You’re so close, smell so good, so warm, it makes him 100% more sensitive, he thinks. “Sorry, sorry,” Your hands retract just as fast as his reaction happened.

“No, no, it’s okay.” He reacts, stopping your hand before it has the chance to fully leave his head. “It’s okay, it’s not bad. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re curious, it’s okay.”

“Neteyam,”

“It’s okay,” He smiles softly, gently placing your hand back where it once was. He encourages you to do whatever you’d like, bending to your every will. He would, he does. Another shudder runs down his spine when your little hands graze over it once more, goosebumps spreading along his skin. He can see the apprehension on your face, uncertainty. “It doesn’t hurt, syulang. It’s just sensitive, a new feeling.” He hums, pressing his face into your neck, hiding the blush that begins to spread across his face and ears.

You fill up his senses entirely, and he likes it. He wants you to. He bites back a softly whimper when your fingers trail down the braid, nose flat against your skin as he inhales. He can feel you warm up, feel himself warm up as well. His kuru seeks out your touch almost, wrapping around your fingers before you even realize it. Trying to make some form of tsaheylu, likely. Your fingers twitch slightly through the exposed part of his nerves, gaining confidence as you brush through them carefully, watching for any pained noises. Neteyam cant bite back the whimper when you carefully wrap your fingers around it, entangling back. He pitifully moans against your skin, embarrassment coursing through his veins as he refuses to meet your eyes.

“You need to rest, mighty.” Neyetam hums against your skin, afraid if he glances into your eyes now it would be too much for him, he’d give in. Another shiver runs, this time just from the thought of you, your skin, the proximity of your bodies as he curls around your form on the bed. “Let’s rest for tomorrow.” He can feel you nod, carefully moving your hands away from his kuru. He’s about to mourn the loss of contact, maybe even complain, before you’re running your fingers with his braids, holding his head close. Everything is good.

You thank Eywa for the blessing that makes Neteyam not look at you, you’d surely be read like a book. Face red, lips bitten bright red, slick with saliva. Thank Eywa.

You wake up with dread, genuine dread. Terror racks your body the whole trip. Not at the thought of scaling the mountain, or climbing the vines. At the thought of failing. Neteyam has so much faith in you, you don’t know what you’d do if you were to fail. You can almost feel the disappointment rolling from him. Shaking the thought from your head, you continue climbing the hard rock, pulling yourself out of autopilot. Neteyam whoops every now and then, encouraging you and the other group of warriors you’ve traveled with. It's nice, knowing he’s close, but terrifying at the same time.

As you come to the opening of the cave, just before you cross over, your heart drops. Seze comes into your view, landing and allowing Neteyam off.

He presses his fingers to his forehead, greeting everyone in the surrounding area. You all follow along, greeting your future leader. “I will not be watching, I'll be on lookout. Just in case.” He announces to the group, watching as the dread still doesn’t leave your face. He announces you’ll go last, trying to make you feel better. It fails, miserably. But you don’t tell him.

When it’s finally your turn, he comes back to the mountain, beginning to carefully walk you underneath the waterfall. People have failed today, scurrying back underneath the water in a desperate attempt to miss the near-death attack. They all come back ashamed, disappointed, and you’ve done your best to reassure them. Of course, some also succeeded, flying off with loud cheers and chants cheering them on.

“Neteyam, if I think I’m going to die, I am going back.” It’s dead serious, eyes dead serious, as you stare back at him. You’re scared, and he knows it, but you’re trying desperately to hide it all. “I don’t want you to be disappointed, but I'm scared.”

“I understand,” Neteyam nods, “I am not going further, I have to get back to Seze. I will be close,” You know he will, you know it. Carefully inching closer, most of the ikrans are already scattered, scared off by ten other hunters. The entire process is a blur, fear and adrenaline taking over your mind. You can barely remember what happened as you force your tsaheylu to connect, terrified pants calming out.

You briefly hear Neteyam’s chants fill your ears, hands pressing against your face in excitement. “What happened?” It's a genuine question. You can’t remember.

“Once you captured it, it did not fight. You didn’t have to lock it down.” He answers, a crazy look coming over his face as if he’s realizing something. As the adrenaline begins to mellow out, your brain begins working again.

“I have to fly, Neteyam move,” You demand, his hands still carefully holding your head in his palms as he forces you to look at him.

“Yes, yes. Fly, I’ll follow.” He smiles, ducking out of the way. He can hear the shriek that leaves your lips as you take off, the sound bouncing off the nearby rock. His feet are sprinting as quickly as possible over the wet rock, finding Seze and taking off just as quickly to search for you. You’re doing decent, still shaky, but alive when he finds you. You grieve the absence of a proper saddle and hold, Neteyam more than aware as he laughs at you.

“IT'S HARD!” You scream over the wind, voice just barely making its way to his ears.

“YOU DID IT!” He’s screaming back, a giant smile plastered across his face. The hours tick by quicker than he would’ve liked, signaling for you to follow as he leads you back to home tree. He supposes it’s because you went last, the time seemingly running past him. As you land in the top branches of the home tree, your unsteady legs buckle as you make contact with the mossy branch, toppling down.

“I’m tired,” Is all you offer, disconnecting your kuru as you allow your ikran to perch wherever she pleases. Neteyam lets out a hearty laugh as he reaches to pick you back up.

“You did it, I told you you were ready,” He smiles, the smile taking up his entire face. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into his embrace in a flurry. Your legs still feel weak, but you muster enough strength to wrap your arms back around him. “Come, we must meet with the others for dinner, announce it to the clan,” He blurts, excitement running through his veins for you. A giant smile spreads across your face as you agree, following him down with interlocked pinkies.

As you make it down, Neteyam lets out a loud whoop, announcing your success. Cheers and chants follow, everyone beginning to congratulate and praise you. Your official ceremony will be held in a week, commemorating and celebrating your achievement of having your place within the people. Neteyam is busy telling everyone the story, voice bubbling with excitement, growing in volume as he gets to the good parts. You beam beside him, listening. You couldn’t tell it anyway, you partially blanked.

Some of the elder members of the clan have a look you can’t quite decipher, unsure of what it means. You choose not to ask, scared of getting an answer you don’t actually want. For once, you choose ignorance.

Eventually the commotion begins to die down, everyone beginning to eat as usual. Neteyam practically begs you to eat with them as always, but Neytiri has the same look that so many others have given you. “Thank you, Nete, but I’m really worn out,” You offer softly, placing your hand on his bicep to try and calm him. He offers you a sad, kicked puppy look, but it didn’t work. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You smile, beginning to make your way back to the hammocks.

“Child,'' Neytiri speaks softly once you depart, swooping Neteyam away for a brief moment. He knows he’s going to get some sort of lecture, good or bad, so he follows without saying another word. “She is special, no?” She asks, plain and simple. They both know the answer to this, Neteyam’s ears pinning in worry.

“…No.” Fear leads him as he lies.

“Neteyam.” It is kind but firm.

“She has something.” Is all he offers. He doesn’t know what it really is, but he knows it’s something. “Does that matter?” He avoids her gaze in worry.

“No, no. It doesn't matter. But it's something to be noted and watched, you know that.” She speaks, gently placing her hands on his shoulders. “Is she something special…to you?” She asks delicately, placing a careful hand over his heart as she asks.

“I'm…not sure.” He answers honestly.

Neytiri nods. She also knows the answer to that question, but figured she’d ask anyway. “Come, my child, let’s eat.” She smiles warmly, leading him back. He earns a lot of “ouuuus” from his siblings when he gets back, assuming he got in trouble.

He hisses softly, resuming his natural place with his family as he begins eating.

The days once again fly by before he can even think too long about it, a sturmbeest hunt following just days after your iknimaya.

“Come with us, Y/n,” Neteyam pleads alongside Lo’ak, begging you to come to the hunt with them. Your small human frame is still wiping the sleep from your eyes, glaring up at him as you devour your fruit. You pop your mask back on as you chew, the mask becoming more and more frustrating as you grow accustomed to your Avatar body.

“I can't hunt and fly at the same time, I'm not good at flying yet.” You answer genuinely, allowing your neck to relax as you look down, no longer peering up.

“You can be our lookout,” Lo’ak offers, also wanting you desperately to come along. He knows he hasn’t talked to you much, and as he watches his brother fall head over heels for you, he’s determined to grow closer.

You huff loudly, eyes still all squinty from sleep. You struggle up to your feet, the two blue boys giant next to you. “I'll meet you guys by the ikrans,” You whine, beginning to lazily make your way to the labs for link.

“Yay yay yay!” Lo’ak and Neteyam chant, easily lifting you and absolutely spriting you to the labs. You scream and laugh, body jostled around as if you weighed absolutely nothing to them. Your ribs hurt from laughing as they arrive at the shack, placing you down in front of the front door. They usher you inside.

“We’ll be at the tree,” Neteyam smiles, waving as you step inside. They both take off before the door even closes all the way. You can only laugh as you imagine them going crazy, sprinting up the tree branches. Just as you imagined, when you finally get up there, both boys are panting and disheveled, bowed over at the hips as they fight for air.

“Skxawngs,” You laugh wildly, a giant smile on your face as you call your ikran down. She’s calm as you connect, quickly rising and falling backwards as you wait for the other two.

The hunt goes smoothly as possible. Some shots are always missed, some Navi and their pa’li are always knocked over, some sturmbeests are wounded but not killed, always a tragedy. You watch Neteyam and Lo’ak very closely, terrified that one of them was going to get themselves in some sort of trouble or hurt. Neteyam lands a hit on one, the arrow not deep enough to kill the giant male just get. You’re a considerable distance ahead, flying further in front.

“Y/N, SHOOT! THE BIG MALE!” His voice screams to you, wanting to put the animal down with as little pain as possible. You let out an annoyed growl as you draw your bow as quickly as possible, using the wind to whip back as quickly as possible. Your arrow is aimed and shot quickly, the male about to run past where you’re flying, charging wildly. Your arrow hits on the same area, successfully knocking the prize winner down.

You, Neteyam, and Lo’ak cheer loudly, flying quickly next to one another as the adrenaline courses through your veins. Lo’ak screams in english, Neteyam in Navi, and you in a weird mix of the two. You're met by the people with loud calls and cheers, celebration soon to be underway as you bring in the prize kills.

“Y/n, come to the ceremony with me tonight.” Neteyam calls you softly as you feed your ikran, tending carefully to her. He watches as you loosen the saddle and reins, allowing your ikran to have more ability and flexibility while you’re not riding.

“The ceremony, with you? Are you courting me?” You chuckle softly. You know the culture, he knows you know the culture. Even at your accusation, the both of you giggle and brush it aside.

“You? Of course not. I'm giving you the gracious opportunity to take your Avatar to a ceremony, and just so happen to go with the clan leader's son.”

“Uhhhh huh.”

“Seriously, you’d be missing out if you don’t.”

“Fine, I suppose I will.”

The night is hectic, fermented juice being passed around like no one’s business, dance, games, and food all being shared among the clans members. You’re a topic of conversation, everyone inquiring about your appearance in your Avatar and not how you normally show up. Even still, it’s a good time. Everything goes generally as planned, until Tarsen approaches you later in the night, smooth voice talking with you.

He's sweet, and you suppose he’s just as accomplished as Neteyam in terms of earning their place within the clan. You know he’s respectful and hardworking, but besides that you’ve never really talked to him.

“You look very beautiful tonight.” A giant smile spreads across your face before you even have a chance to stop it fully. “Please, allow me to get a drink with you.” You have no chance in hell, nodding like an idiot as he takes your hand to help you up off your seat. The drinks are strong, making you warm in seconds flat.

“How is the ceremony going for you, Tarsem?” You smile softly, turning to listen to his answer. He steps a bit closer as he talks to you, leaning forward to tell you about his day in your ear. There’s small goosebumps spreading across your arms from the proximity, listening nevertheless to him. It takes a lot of effort to not jump when his tail comes to wrap around your waist, a classic courting gesture. He's bragging to you about his kill in the hunt, and your mind begins to wander to yours and Neteyam’s joint kill.

“Y/n?” You turn to find the voice, losing your balance temporarily as you search. “Can I have this dance?” Neteyam appears out of nowhere, standing up straighter and broad in front of you.

“Nete! Of course!” Once again, your balance falters as you step towards him. You quickly mumble a string of apologies to Tarsem, promising to come back as you excuse yourself from him. Neteyam’s chest rumbles as you fall towards him, finally breaking free of Tarsem’s hold on your waist. “Let's go!”

He waits until you get away from the table to speak once again, “Are you drunk? You’ve been drinking?”

“Yes, well no. Tarsem wanted to drink with me, but that’s it.” You struggle, beginning to make your way over to the clan's traditional dance line. Your hand reaches for Neteyam, pulling him along to follow. He stands in place, solid as a rock despite your pleading. Your costume makes soft clicking sounds as the beads and feathers move, a pretty hanging assortment that Neteyam had gifted you. Before arriving at the ceremony, you realized you had no ceremony outfits for your Avatar, only for your human body. It sits on your shoulders, connecting at your wrists to almost resemble wings hanging down.

“And his tail?” His jaw is clenched hard.

“Neteyam? What’s wrong?” You finally give up trying to pull him to the dance, it’s clear he doesn’t actually care to dance at this moment. There's a small frown on your face that Neteyam threatens to crumble under. He pulls his composure together, reaching out and pulling you close by your elbow.

“He was courting after you, and you let him.” Neteyam mumbles, eyes searching yours for answers.

“I didn't think you’d mind…you said we were just going to give me a chance to use my Avatar, Nete.” You sigh, confusion evident. “You’re confusing me, really badly. I don't understand why you’re upset. Please, can we just dance??”

Neteyam once again doesn’t budge. Even in your Avatar body, his strength easily overpowers yours and he’s suddenly an unmoving force. The two of you are away from the crowd, able to talk more freely and hide from any peering eyes. “Would you have continued?” Neteyam grits, unable to hold eye contact with you as he peers down.

“What do you mean? What are you accusing me of?”

“Would you have mated?”

“Neteyam! What are you on about?” You slur your speech, balance losing temporarily as you fall forward into him. He catches you despite technically being upset. “I’m not mating with anybody, the person I want doesn't want me. He told me so today,” You drunkenly babble, arms wrapping around his neck as you hold yourself up. “Told me he won’t go to the ceremony with me in that way, doesn’t want to court me.” Your costume tangles with him as his arms come to wrap around your waist, the proximity going to his head.

“He told you that, huh?” Neteyam feels his face heat, knowing who you’re talking about. You lift slightly onto your tiptoes, pushing yourself closer against his chest. “I think you should tell him that.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” Your words came out mumbled, “He’s a really busy guy, you know? Don’t wanna be an inconvenience.” You continue, and Neteyam can feel his heart contract a bit.

“You’re not an inconvenience.”

“Hmmm,” You hum, goosebumps sprouting against his skin. “Can we dance, Nete. Please?” You ask again, beginning to untangle yourself from him. He mourns the loss of closeness, holding tight to your hand in his. Your face is bright pink, but you still lock eyes with him. “Come, let’s dance in the ceremony,” You softly pull, this time Neteyam moves with, giving in. The two of you dance and sing, play some of the games, share food as you begin to settle down for the night. You’re holding the leaf on your lap, you and Neteyam both picking from it here and there.

Unknown to you, Tarsem is making his way over, ready to ask about your promise of returning to him. Neteyam locks eyes, giving him a heavy glare that’s almost unmistakable even in an inebriated state. To solidify his claim, he’s moving closer to you, legs now pressed together, his arm wrapping around your shoulder. He gets the message loud and clear, turning around and beginning to make his way elsewhere.

“Nete, I’m tired,” You call his attention back without realizing, head falling onto his shoulder. “Can I go back to home tree? You can stay if you need to, future Olo'eyktan,” You smile, beginning to stand as you hand him the leaf in case he’s sticking around. “I’ll see you for our lessons, yeah?”

“I’ll walk you back,” He’s quick to offer, wanting to make sure you get back safely, and by yourself. Neteyam does as promised, safely walking you back to home tree to allow your Avatar to rest. He thinks hard, would your human body remember what you said and did? Are you going to steer clear of him now? You’re beyond wobbly, scaring Neteyam half to death as you wobble side to side on the tree branches. Your body has enough muscle memory to easily guide you to the hammock, still, Neteyam gasps hard as you freely jump into an open one. “Oh Eywa! Y/n!” He scolds.

You laugh softly, peering up at him. “Goodnight, Nete. Get back safe okay?” You lazily smile, gently pulling at the edge of the leaf to cover yourself. You’re out quickly, body exhausted. Neteyam is now racing on foot to the lab to check on human you.

“Y/n?” He calls as he walks through the lab, struggling with the mask as he holds it.

“Neteyam? You should probably get back to the ceremony,” You mumble, stretching your legs and arms out. He smiles softly as the beads clink together, “People are probably waiting on you.”

“Yeah, but you should get some rest. I wanted to make sure you’re okay, you drank a lot.”

“I suppose it doesn’t cross over, that’d be weird if it did. I don’t remember much though,” You smile, a bit embarrassed that you can’t remember the ceremony that Neteyam took you to.

“I see, I see.” He nods, “Here, I’ll run you up to home tree so you can get some sleep.” Neteyam smiles as he offers, turning around and squatting to offer his back. You climb on, wrapping your legs around his torso as much as possible given his size. Neteyam takes you there easily, jumping, climbing, and scaling the tree with little to no difference with you on him. He's careful as he climbs into a leaf, allowing you to climb off of his back. You laugh as he wobbles in it as he tries to get up around you.

“Careful, you’ll knock both of us out,” You smile, grabbing his arm where he’s trying to push himself up without leaning too far to one side. He can only balance with both arms, awkwardly placed on either side of your head, your smaller frame engulfed by his much bigger one.

Neteyam makes the mistake of looking, his body easily covering yours entirely, your face bright red as you bite on your lips, avoiding eye contact. Your small hand grips hard as you balance yourself, not helping. He's so close he can practically smell the heat rolling off of you. “Sorry, Sorry! I’m just, this is, it’s fragile,” He stutters, his own face warming. He wants to stay here, like this, with you. He's sure you can see the blush on his ears, stuttering like an idiot when he accidentally looks in between both of your bodies. But he can’t, so he reluctantly climbs away, barely making it to the tree branch. “I’ll see you soon,” He grits out, closing the hammock for you.

Neteyam knows he should go back to the ceremony, make his rounds as the chief's son. But he has a bigger issue at hand, said issue? In between his legs.

Your’s and the other warrior’s ceremony is quick to come, your body being painted traditionally for it. White paint is drug along your torso and face, finger paths making pretty even lines. You begged Kiri to help you, knowing she’d be the most careful and intricate. As she drags her fingers over your lips, the both of you giggle wildly. Tuk, who joined the both of you for fun, stares at you with stars in her eyes.

“Y/n, I have a gift for you,” Kiri speaks, springing up and running off. She comes back quickly. She comes back with a decently sized box. “It’s for tonight.”

Your heart aches as you open it, a giant smile spread across your face. “You didn’t have to-“

“It's not just from me.”

Its beautiful ceremonial pieces, bottoms, a top, accessories galore, and a few pieces to decorate your hair with. “Most were woven and made by Neteyam,” Kiri almost whispers, a knowing smile spread across her face at the confession.

“I see…” You smile, trying to avoid the blush that threatens to come across you. Kiri is very receptive, even more so to you since she’s known you for so long. “They’re beautiful, I’ll be sure to talk to him and thank him later tonight,”

Kiri smiles, “I'm sure he’d like that a lot.” She nods, climbing to her feet. She offers her hands, helping you up. “Me and Tuk will leave you to get ready,”

You thank her repeatedly as she leaves. You kiss the top of Tuk’s head goodbye when she complains about leaving, promising her you’ll see her later. Getting changed makes your stomach flip wildly, nerves beginning to set in for the night. Everyone is busy with their preparations, running wildly around the tree. Dressed and painted, you make your way down.

Neteyam spots you immediately, having to run off to help with preparations. His mind is filled with you, just the brief glimpse he caught. He tells himself to distance himself, too scared that once he’s in your grasp he won’t be able to break himself away. He watches the entire night, eyes never once leaving your frame. Hours fly by like minutes, too entranced in the way you dance, speak, sing, smile, interact, everything about you. You can feel his stare, burning into your skin. He watches as you join in the dances, accept praise and congratulations, turn down courting and mate offers left and right. His eyes never leave once.

“Sa’nu,” Neteyam soft voice catches Neytiri’s attention, quickly walking off with him. Far enough away from everyone else, Neteyam speaks freely. “I am going to ask Y/n to be my mate tonight.” His voice is firm and strong. He's not asking in the slightest, he is telling her.

Neytiri nods softly, fighting the smile that pulls at the corner of her lips. “She will make a good mate for you, my eldest.” He smiles, reaching to softly cup his face.

Neteyam nods, “I know.” The two of them walk back to the party, Neteyam standing much stronger, more confident as he searches for you once again.

“Syulang,” Neteyam calls, watching as your head immediately turns towards him. His heart beats hard. “Are you having fun?” He asks softly when you make your way over, a glow radiating off of you.

“Yes, I am. Are you having fun?” You smile back, sitting with him on one of the logs.

“Yes, I am.” He nods.

“Watching me? Because I haven't seen you do much else,” You tease softly, leaning forward towards him as you speak. It’s the truth, he hasn’t done much else.

“Yes, making sure you’re safe,” He nods, coming up with an excuse that’s semi-believable.

“My warrior, forever and always being my lookout,” You grin at him, thinking about when he first promised to be your extra set of eyes, keeping you out of harm's reach. A couple of braids fall from behind his ear as he shuffles slightly. Before you’re thinking, you reach forward, gently tucking them behind his ear.

The grin on his face is irreplaceable, his hand gently reaching for your wrist before you can pull away. He softly pulls your hand down, kissing the pads of your fingers softly. “Y/n? I want to show you something, whenever you’re ready to go.” He gently releases your wrist after pressing another kiss to your pinky, your extra finger that makes you different.

Your mind goes numb, essentially, eyes widening as you stare at the man in front of you. “Ye-yes. I was going to get going soon anyway,” You mumble, not entirely the truth but you digress. He grins, a love-sick grin as he’s the first to get up. He offers his palm, smiling even more when you take it.

“You are one of the people now, physically and spiritually now.” Neteyam begins as the two of you run through the forest, taking turns passing one another in brief sprints. The two of you laugh like dummies, leaping and hopping over logs. “Eywa has heard you, acknowledged you.” He continues, slowing his pace when he approaches his destination. It's the tree of voices, a place you know from stories and pictures. You’ve never visited yourself, never being able to connect or truly listen. “These trees are our people. We connect with them through here, hear their voices, listen to their stories.” Neteyam speaks softly as he walks through the trees. “It is one of our most sacred places. It is our memories, our history.”

Neteyam’s voice is honey to your ears, watching his actions closely. His movements stop, reaching to gather a few of the branches and bringing them to himself. Reaching for his braid, he connects his tswin. You watch him, unsure of if you should follow. Neteyam smiles, nodding towards you to follow when you don’t immediately mirror him. You follow, connecting. It’s different than anything else, your pupils grow giant, listening to the voices, stories, songs. Goosebumps grow all along your body, eyes falling closed as you listen to the advice of mothers passed down for thousands of generations.

“Y/n,” Neteyam speaks softly, hands gently taking your elbows in his hold. Your eyes peel open, gently pulling your kuru away. “I have a gift for you,”

“Neteyam-“

“It’s already made.” He uses your own logic against you from the past. You giggle softly, following him to the soft grass when he sits. He tenderly presents a necklace in his palms, holding it with both hands as he presents it to you. “It’s for you, marking our training together.” Neteyam explains nervously, feeling his tail flick wildly behind him in anxiety.

“You shouldn’t have, you already made me my outfit Nete.” Your voice grows soft as you scooch closer to him, leaning in to examine the necklace in his hands.

“This is the first day, where we spent all day in the forest. This is when you learned archery, your first clean kill, bonding with Midnight, your iknimaya, your kill in the sturmbeest festival, your celebration tonight.” He explains each of the beads, face warming as you continue to draw closer to one another. There's one remaining, a soft pink stone.

“Which is this one?” You ask, reaching and pointing.

“This one…is to represent tonight,” Neteyam mumbles, extremely soft. Your eyes catch one another’s for a brief moment, breaking off when you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. “The trees, the people, us.”

“Neteyam, it’s too sweet,” Your voice is smooth and heavenly to him, hands holding his bicep firmly. You then release him, turning your back so he can place it onto you. His touch makes goosebumps spread anywhere they brush, a shudder going down your spine. Your fingers reach to feel it, “It’s perfect, Nete,” You mumble as you turn back and face him. Your hands find his shoulders naturally, eyes connecting.

“I see you, Y/n.” He mumbles, hands once again falling to hold your arms where they rest on him.

“Neteyam, you see me, I see you.” You mumble softly, your hands gently cupping his face in your palms as you shuffle closer to where he’s kneeled. He smiles, leaning his head into your hold and almost nuzzling into you. There's a rumble in his chest, a purr as you always call it, as he feels so completely intent in your hold. He always denies purring with a passion when anyone else brings it up, but you, sure, he’d purr for you. “Nete, I see you.” You speak again, sitting so close that your knees are between one another.

“You’ve grown up here, you know the culture. After coming of age, all of the people are permitted to make their bow or weapon, and find their mate if they wish to." Neteyam speaks softly to you, pressing his forehead to yours. “You may do this as you wish, with whoever you wish.” Neteyam’s chest tightens as his mind goes to Tarsem.

“With whoever I wish?” You ask softly, pulling your head back slightly. Neteyam looks confused, eyes squinting in confusion at your move. “What are the conditions of, “whoever?” I feel that some people are definitely off limits.”

“Who is off limits to you?” Neteyam mumbles, his hands dropping down from your elbows to the ground behind him, holding his torso up.

“Hmmmm,” You pretend to think for a couple of moments, tapping your chin as Neteyam makes himself comfortable, now sitting as he rests on his palms. He looks especially handsome, the smallest look of smugness on his face. He’s almost beckoning you closer, inviting you onto his lap as he sprawls out in front of you. “Olo'eyktan, he’s definitely off limits. Hmmm, I think the future Olo'eyktan is also off limits.”

“Yeah? Did he tell you that it’s off limits?” His confidence grows even more, chest booming. Finally, he reaches forward, hands finding your waist and finally pulling you close once more. Your knees are on either side of his thighs, hovering over his lap. “I think that the future Olo'eyktan has already chosen his mate though, a very special person, someone who he didn’t think he’d be with right now.” Neteyam speaks gently as he continues to pull you close, allowing you to sit on his lap.

“So if he’s already chosen his mate, then he IS off limits.” You continue the game you’re playing, a giant smile spread across your face as your thumb rubs along his cheek. Finally caving in, you speak again “You really think the future Olo'eyktan would want to be with me? A little human?” You giggle like a school girl gossiping, pretending that you weren’t talking directly to him.

“I think he would, definitely. In fact, I know he would.” Neteyam speaks, leaning forward and gently connecting your lips. You pause for a moment to relish in the moment, soft lips pressed against one another, breathing mixing together. You’re the first to move, sliding your lips against his. You can feel the rumbling growing in Neteyam’s chest, the purring that you love so much coming out. Moving closer, your chests press flush together, his arms wrapping around your back.

The kiss consumes you, lights your skin on fire as his palms trail along your skin. It feels like your oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, Neteyam greedily taking it as he kisses you harder. Your hands find the back of his head, pulling him closer if it’s even possible at this point. You break the kiss, panting heavily as you fight to fill your lungs with air.

“Nete, I can't. I can't be Tsahìk, I cannot lead the people.” You pull away, hands still cupping his face. Neteyam presses his cheek into your hold, a gentle smile plastered across his face. Your heart aches, thumbs gently rubbing across his cheeks. “You should look elsewhere-“

“You have a bond with Eywa, I see her with you all the time. You and the forest, her children, your mount, they are all special. You can. You have helped my grandmother from the day she allowed you to, you know how to heal and help. But if you don’t wish to, we will be simple weavers together-“

“Don’t.” Your voice cuts him off.

“Okay, hunters,”

“Neteyam!”

“Songwriters?”

“You have worked your whole life training, ensuring your place as leader. You will likely take over in just a few years time. I will not let you throw it away for me.”

“I don't want to lead the people, if not with you.” He answers completely honestly, leaning forward to press your forehead together. “That life is not worth living.” His eyes fall closed as he relishes the feeling of your hold, holding him so closely, so delicately. “It is not the life I want. I don’t want to lead if you’re not by my side.”

“Only if you want to, no pressure,” Neteyam mumbles against your lips. One of his palms leaves your skin, instead beginning to reach behind him for his tswin. He pulls it over his shoulder, resting it there and waiting for your reaction. Reaching back for yours, it’s a choice you’ve already made long before now. “Y/n, I see you.” Neteyam mumbles, trailing down his braid and watching as you mirror him. “I see you, I see every form of you, every body, my sweet mate.'' Connecting your kuru’s sends electricity down your spine, both of your pupils dilating as the connection is sealed, releasing your kurus.

“Neteyam,” You mumble, hands immediately wrapping themselves around him and pulling him as close as possible. Your breathing is heavy, chest heaving against his as you stare into his eyes, both of your pupils giant. Your lips crash together, body seated securely on Neteyam’s lap as he pulls you close. “I need you, haaa fuck, I need you Neteyam.” You whine softly against his lips, pulling roughly on the ties around his hips.

“I know, paskalin, I know.” Neteyam mumbles against your lips, reaching down to pull your hands back up. He places a soft kiss on your palm, “Relax, pretty. Wanna make you feel good, please you.” Neteyam speaks, hands wrapping around to hold your back. He's extremely strong, pushing both of your weights up to gently place you on your back.

“Neteyam,” You whine, reaching back to try to pull at his ties. He easily dodges your prying fingers, pinning your hands to the soft moss underneath you.

“Patience, Y/n,” He speaks softly but firm, “Want to do it right, want to mate you right,” He mumbles, beginning to kiss along your skin. An involuntarily whimper leaves when he makes his way down your neck, slowly getting closer and closer to where you need his touch. You pull softly on his grip, unable to break it. “Make you feel good, so you never want anyone else,”

“I don’t, never Neteyam,” Your voice breaks off into a whine as he nips at the soft flesh on your chest, reaching to untie your top. Goosebumps spread across your skin as he touches as he pleases, hands trailing from your thighs, up to your breast, and then back down to your thighs. Teasing, he’s teasing you. You whine as you squeeze his hips in between your thighs, pulling him closer. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

“You mean that?” He asks softly as he carefully takes a breast in his mouth, tongue gently lapping. He watches your reaction, gauges what you don’t like and do, and adjusts all of his movements perfectly. As he nips, a small cry falls past his lips. “You didn’t answer me, yawne.”

“Yes, yes I mean that.” You answer, body steadily heating as he makes his way in between your thighs, kneading the soft flesh.

“So soft.” He bums to you, placing his head on your thighs as if they were a pillow. He's still teasing, unmoving as he looks up at you from where you want him.

“Nete,” Your voice breaks, reaching down to pull softly at his braids, growing impatient. His palms rub along your skin soothingly, moving from your outer thighs, up to your hips where he grabs and holds. “Please, take it off,” You plead as be toys with the ties on the side of your hip, twirling them around his finger.

“Of course, pretty.” Neteyam finally caves in, pulling your loincloth off carefully. You feel his heartbeat increase, pupils growing even more. Your adrenaline masks your embarrassment, wanting him more than ever. Neteyam peers up at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your reaction. His breath fans over you, making your thighs tighten where they sit on his shoulders. “So pretty, so beautiful.” He mumbles, lightly licking along your heat.

You can feel the lightning shoot up your back, a moan ripping through your throat. You can feel him inhale hard, nose pressed flat against your skin as he breathes in deeply. “Neteyam! Don’t!”

“Too good,” He ignores you, breathing in your scent in deep, greedy gulps. He ignores your whining, face buried as deep as possible into your cunt.

“Neteyam, you need to rel-AH!” His arms wrap tight around your waist, dragging you along the ground. He pulls your hips easily up to his face, now kneeling and sitting on his feet. “Eywa, Nete,” A moan travels through the trees as you balance on your upper back, hands reaching down to grab his knees to try and talk sense into him. Your nails dig where they can reach, Neteyam lost to you as he licks, sucks, and flicks along your clit with ease you would expect from someone experienced.

“Need you,” He moans into your pussy, only worsening your circumstances as he sends you closer to the edge. He moans into you, enjoying eating you out as if he was being pleasured currently. Your moans are impossible to hold back, whimpering, moaning, and crying out his name. “Taste better than, fuck, anything I’ve ever bad,” He growls, tightening his hold, folding his arms more.

It’s ridiculous, how you’re positioned, completely helpless from his assault. Your knees are resting on his shoulder, accidentally flexing and sending you grinding against his face, a loud moan coming from both of you. “Do it again, ride my face,” Neteyam growls softly.

You whimper as you do so, flexing your legs and consistently pulling your pussy across his face. When your legs begin shaking too badly to continue at the same pace, he picks up the slack for you. “Going to cum,” You cry, nails digging in deeper, beginning to break skin. He doesn’t even register the pain, desperate to get you there.

“Cum, cum on my tongue,” He growls, never slowing his ministrations. You whimper as he pushes you closer and closer, legs beginning to tighten around his head.

“Cumming, Nete,” You cry, head falling against the soft moss as you do so. Your legs tighten around his head, holding him there as you ride out the orgasm. They finally loosen when the overstimulation kicks in, unable to remain locked down.

“So good, so pretty for me,” Neteyam coos, carefully moving your body so you’re once again laying flat on the ground. His palms soothe over your thighs, rubbing the shakes out where they sit around his hips. “So good, such a perfect mate for me, such a perfect girl,” He mumbles.

“Nete, need you,” You whine, using the last bit of your strength to sit up. Your hands push softly at his shoulders, switching the positions as you straddle his hips once more. His loin cloth is stretched, body wanting you more than he could ever tell you. Your lips crash against his, tasting yourself on his face. Heat immediately spreads across your cheeks, slight embarrassment, as you fumble with his ties. This time, he lets you.

“You okay, pretty?” Neteyam coos as you untie him, eyes never leaving your face. His hands slide along your hips, making their way in between your thighs once again. “Are you going to be able to take me, hmm?” His voice has a slight teasing tone, but you know there’s concern underneath it as well. Your head falls forward as he slowly sinks a finger into your heat, allowing your face to nestle in his shoulder.

“I want you, Neteyam. I want your cock,” You complain softly, body aching with want.

“I know, but I don't want you to hurt yourself,'' Neteyam has a purr rumbling in his chest. He cares for you, so deeply, even as he tortures himself with the amount of restraint he’s exercising. Another whine is pulled past your lips as another finger slips in, curling to hit just right. “There it is, there you go,” Neteyam coos as you turn to putty in his hold, fingers exactly where you need him. He stretches you thoroughly, to his liking. Pleasure shoots through your spine, mind melting. “Okay, you got this,” He smiles at you, fingers rubbing comforting circles on your hips.

Your shaky hands line him up, excitement and nerves shooting through your body. Your breathing is uneven as you sink down, panting as you sink down to the base, hips pressed together. “Fuck, fuck,” Neteyam pants, one of his hands holding your hips and encouraging you to grind against him. It draws soft moans from the two of you, the spiritual and physical connection between the two of you making your mind feel fuzzy, almost numb. “You’re doing so good for me, my sweet mate. Taking me so well, taking it so well.” He encourages, gently rocking up into you.

“My mate, my mighty warrior.” You pant, gathering all of the strength you still have to rock yourself along his cock, doing your best to take all of him each time. Neteyam feels feral as you pant on top of him, thighs shaking on either side of his hips. Only he can make you feel like this, only he can see you in this state, all for him. You’re taking him so well, so warm and welcoming as you coax him inside with each thrust. You’re so close, holding his body completely flush against yours. All of his senses are full of you, one hand holding your back and the other has a death grip on your hip.

“So good to me, all for me, only for me.” Neteyam continues to encourage you, your whimpers and mewls filling his ears as you hide in his shoulder. Possessiveness grows, consumes him as you shudder into him, his sweet mate. He's never felt like this, his skin hot, a strong desire growing in his chest.

“Want to cum, Nete.” You’re so sensitive, so hot just because of him. You whimper, words slurred as you fight to think even the slightest bit straight. Your arms are wrapped around him for purchase, the only thing providing you stability as you grind down on his cock. Your small whimpers and moans fill your ears, making you flush red in embarrassment. Biting them back, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip is the best you can manage. Neteyam picks it up instantly, both due to your connection and his ears alerting him.

“What is it, my mate?” Neteyam draws, not able to use the term enough. “Not feeling good anymore?” The confidence and smugness oozes from each work, he knows the answers to his questions before he even asks. “Don’t want to give me your little whines anymore?” Neteyam knows what he’s doing, punctuating the end of his sentence with a gentle snap up of his hips. A broken sob falls from your lips, mewls and whines quickly following it. “There she is, are you going to come for me? Let me hear you, yawne. Use me to make yourself feel good, pretty.”

His voice is intoxicating, feels like you’re on drugs as you pant and whine on top of him. Your hips grind down, no longer bouncing as you whimper as his tip repeatedly hits where you want him, where you need him. Neteyam happily allows you, fondness growing stronger as you do as you please, following his instructions. It doesn’t feel as good to him this way, but god damn it, seeing you in this state easily makes up for it.

“Feels good, hm?” He asks softly, words muffled by your hair as you pull him close. One hand slides down, gently circling the little bud that he knows makes you tick.

“Ah, ah, gonna cum for you, Nete,” Your voice mewls, soft pants breaking up your words as you ride him how you like. Your thighs are shaking worse now, chasing your high like nothing else matters. “Can I cum, please?”

“Of course,” His abs clench hard as he fights off his orgasm, your pussy clenching hard around him as you become more sensitive. His restraint is wearing thin, patience being tested like never before. As you teeter closer, his fingers circle just the slightest bit faster. And you’re cumming around him, hard. His own lips part with a moan as you squeeze his length, shaky thighs continuing to move as your determination to ride it out takes over. Your pants fill his senses, heartbeat filling his own chest, minds molding together.

Eventually, your hips slow, one hand quickly grabbing and pulling his wrist away from your heat. “Nete,” You whimper, squeezing around him. Your arms wrap around his back, chests flush together. “Want you to feel good,”

“I am, yawne.” Neteyam smiles at you, rolling his hips up into you. “Wanted you to feel good, first.'' His voice is gentle as he maneuvers the both of you. Your back hits the ground once again, Neteyam still in between your thighs as he follows close. “Absolutely killing me, doing all I can to hold myself back,” A small growl rumbles through his chest, pressing his hips against you, filling you as deep as possible. “Absolutely losing it,” He growls as he pulls out, snapping his hips forward. You moan, loud.

“Don’t hold back, feel good, Neteyam.” You whimper, his palms slipping underneath your thighs. Your breath catches as he hikes your legs up, hands meeting the bend of your knees as he folds you.

“I'm sorry, yawne,” Neteyam moans softly, pressing his forehead against yours as he absolutely ravishes you. His hips snap hard into you, no longer holding back as he chases his own release. You moan loudly against his lips, not quite kissing, but lips brushing together. He groans and growls, eyes falling shut as he slams his hips into you, filling your cunt completely up each time.

Your noises are unrelenting, unable to bite them back as pleasure shoots through your body with each thrust. Neteyam is feral, chasing the high that he’s edged himself off of for the last hour. “Neteyam, gonna cum, you feel too good,” You whimper, biting at your lips as you peel your eyes open to look at him. Your arms shakily move, clawing softly at his back.

“Cum, cum for me.” Neteyam mumbles, “Gonna cum with you this time, okay paskalin?” He asks softly, pressing a shaky kiss to your cheek. His hips twitch and abs tighten as he focuses on how tight you’re wrapped around him, twitching and clenching down harder as you’re about to cum for him once more. “Gonna fill you up, okay? Put a future clan leader into you,” He groans harshly, feral, animalistic. “My baby, you’ll be a good mama for me,”

“Nete, oh fuck,” You cry, cumming hard around his cock. A broken sob falls from your lips, face leaning forward. Before you even have a moment to think of it, your teeth sink deep into his shoulder, your mating bite. Neteyam shudders as you mark him, hips continuing as he fucks you through your orgasm, soon spilling into you.

“Fuck, fuck yawne, good girl,” Neteyam groans, letting go of one of your legs and holding your head. He doesn’t pull you away, but relieves the strain on your neck as you bite into him. His hips slow, every now and then thrusting into you as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy.

You release your hold, pulling your fangs out of his skin. Laying back down, there’s blood and drool on your lips, eyes glazed over as you stare up at him. Neteyam lazily thrusts once or twice more, overstimulation kicking in before he’s slowly pulling out. “Paskalin, you okay?” He mumbles gently, carefully moving your legs to a more comfortable position. Kissing your forehead, you begin to come back, more aware of his words. “You did so well,”

“Neteyam, I see you,” You can’t help but smile at him. Your heart is so full, so fond, as your eyes water. “I love you,” It’s more human, Neteyam isn’t entirely familiar with it.

“I love you too,” Regardless, he doesn’t miss a beat, “I see you.” Neteyam nuzzles his face into you, arms wrapping around your back as he lays down, pulling you close. “We are mated for life, I am with you now.”

little extra lol

A couple of days have passed since then, and Neteyam has never felt so secure and confident in his life. His father was a bit upset he didn’t get the run down before like his mother did, but nothing serious. Kiri and Lo’ak saw it coming, and Tuk? She’s just as excited as Neteyam. You’ve started your official Tsahìk training now, alongside copious amounts of support from the Sully family.

While he is your #1 supporter, he can’t help but feel annoyed that he’s barely seen you the last couple of days. His mate, and they only meet after sunset for rest. He hasn’t even seen your little human body in days, always falling asleep with your Avatar and your human form staying at the lab (It’s easier, you start training extremely early in the morning.)

He almost cries from relief when you wake him, small human body basically sitting on his chest. “Nete, I have a day off,” You grin, still shaking him slightly. The excitement quickly shoots south, but in a surprising way. He can feel your heartbeat, it’s as if you were back to the night you had officially become one. But you were human.

“Y/n?” He mumbles, thinking he’s still half asleep. As he sits up and becomes more aware, he’s not imagining it. “I see you,”

“I see you-“

“No, I see you.” He mumbles, placing his hand over his heart. “Like we’re connected, I can feel your heartbeat right now…” Neteyam thinks hard, and he thinks hard for hot minute, “Like, our tsaheylu works even in your human body, I feel you, sense you,”

Neteyam’s mind runs fuzzy at the realization, big head falling into the crook of your neck and taking a deep, long inhale of your scent. He's suddenly way too aware of you sitting in his lap, small frame draped over his much, much larger one. “Y/n,” He groans, deep as his arms wrap around you, caging you in. His hands knead at your soft flesh, well-fed, healthy, fertile. His mind absolutely reels at the thought, the embodiment of fertility.

“Neteyam, we can’t,” You mumble against his skin, voice close to his ear, goosebumps spreading. He knows why, he does. As his frame easily hides your entire body just with his torso, he knows. He’d break you, truly. “I can link with my-“

“No, no.” He shakes his head, palms groping at the soft meat of your thighs. He doesn’t want your Avatar, he wants you. He feels this body, he’s connected not with your bodies, but with you. The thought sends him.

“Nete, I physically can't,” There’s humor in your words, a slight giggle as you pull away to peer at him. His pupils are giant, mind cloudy as he stares at you. You chuckle, hands pulling at your mask. With one deep breath, you pull it off.

“What are you-“ His panicked tone is quickly cut off when your lips press against his, soft and careful. It doesn’t help his situation, lips so unbelievably soft where they’re connected with his own. His mind melts, eagerly kissing you back as if he was starved from it. He whines, a genuine sound, when you pull back, yanking your mask on quickly.

“You worry a lot,”

“I worry for you,” Neteyam rolls his eyes. Maybe if he ignores you, and his unbelievable attraction for you, the tightness in his cloth will go away. It's all wishful thinking, impossible thinking, given how you’re currently straddling his thighs. “You have to give me a bit to calm down, yawne. I can't do it with you sitting like this,” He whines, growing uncomfortable with each passing second.

“Why can’t I help you?” You whine, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck, a small pout on your face.

“Because I’m scared I will lose it and hurt you,”

“You’d never hurt me, Nete,” It’s a genuine statement, both of you know it. “Not in a way I didn’t want, anyway,”

“Yawne,” He groans, “Not helping.”

“C’mon, let’s go find somewhere private.” You almost have it in you to laugh at him when you climb off his lap, a genuine crazed look in his eyes.

“Do you not feel it in this body?” Neteyam asks as he runs after you, picking you up to more easily scale home tree. You think for a couple of moments, shrugging.

“I think I feel it all the time, I thought it was normal,” You answer him honestly, arms and legs wrapped around his body as he climbs and runs. His ikran meets him hastily, and he’s taking off before he even asks you if you’d like to sit on the saddle instead.

“Maybe I couldn’t tell because I haven't seen you in this body in awhile,” He concludes as he lands, hoping down with you still death gripped to his back. “Been killing me, Y/n. It’s like torture, being away from you for so long,” He whines, immediately turning to wrap you in his hold when your feet touch the soft grass. He kneels carefully, more level with you as he continues the dramatics. “Missed your little human body tripping over sticks,” He teases, knowing the sticks are logs for you. His head finds itself against your chest, listening to the way your heart beats.

“Oh the drama,” You laugh, making yourself comfortable when you sit down. “Can't kiss you in this body, it’s unfair,” You complain as you lay down, knowing Neteyam is soon to find his place in between your thighs. It takes almost no time, legs widening to accommodate the large Na’vi.

“We can work out a system,” He really wants to kiss you, “Deep breath,” He barely lets you finish before he pulls the mask off, immediately slamming his lips against your own. He’s desperate and needy, the feeling only multiplying as you’re finally close. He can feel the heat in between your legs, making him lose his judgment. He kisses you as if his life depends on it for a bit, before his care for your well-being overrides his thoughts and he’s placing the mask back on. “Fuck, just missed you so much,” He grins, trailing down to your chest as he kisses along your sensitive and thin skin. It’s like torture when he trails down, his mind melting as his fingers trail over the edge of your own beaded cloth.

“It’s okay Nete,” You’re quick to reassure, watching as he immediately takes the go ahead and unties it. Wasting no time at all, he genuinely wastes no time as his head immediately buries in between your legs. “NETEYAM, FUCK!” You yelp, his giant head occupying all of the space. He's starved, so starved, and he eats to reflect that. You’re cumming once then again, then again, and then-

“One more for me paskalin, just too good, tastes too good, it’ll be the last one,”

Once his face finds its way out, he’s absolutely covered in your arousal and cum. His fingers find his own cloth, an idea popping in his head, “Do you trust me, love?”

“Of course,” He grins softly, allowing himself to finally be free of his constraint. He moans softly at that alone, so turned on, so drunk on you that his mind is definitely not working to its full capacitors. He whines loud as he slides in between your legs, big, angry cock easily slipping through your wet folds. You whimper as his tip brushes your sensitive clit, continuing to push past it until your hips are flush together. He moans, loud, when he looks down, angry cock just barely nudging at your breasts.

“I'd break you, yawne,” He growls softly, sliding his hips back before snapping them forward, “I'd break this little body,” He lets out more of a whine when you squeeze your thighs together, giving him more friction, more touch. “But oh, you’d be so full, stuffed full of my cock,” He groans, shuddering slightly on top of you.

“I know, Nete,” You whimper back softly, losing your mind as he fucks himself against your pussy, shuttering each time he slips into where your thighs squeeze. He genuinely would, likely fuck up your lungs and all vital organs in the process.

You’re absolutely soaked from his touch, providing more than enough lubrication for him as he easily slides between your lips, constantly hitting your clit right where you need it. It’s obscene, the sounds it’s making, you would think he’s fucking into you. “Nete,” You whimper, hands pulling at his arms to try and get him closer. He obliges happily, leaning forward to press himself against

you. He whines loudly, cock in between either of your bodies. “Love you,”

“Love you too, paskalin,” He smiles softly, kissing the top of your head, “I’m gonna cum for you, hm?” He smiles, watching your face as you eagerly nod. “Deep breath for me, pretty girl,” He grins hard, a giant smile on his face as you follow his instructions. He carefully pulls your mask off, wasting no time in slamming his lips onto yours. He devours your whines, whimpers, and moans, greedily taking them as his hips continue to pump against you. He kisses you until he cums, getting lost in the feel of your lips against his. You whimper as you feel him moan into your mouth, hands beginning to press against his biceps.

“My mate,” You whimper, reaching for his hand that still holds your mask. He quickly gets the message, placing it back onto your face.

“Yawne, my girl,” He sighs softly, hips still grinding against yours as he rides out his high with you. “Need you to cum again,” He mumbles against your lips, knowing you weren’t able to cum with him. “Just one more, one more. This will be the last, I promise love,” He almost babbles against your skin, kissing it.

“I can't, Neteyam,” You whine as his hands trail in between your legs, gently spreading your thighs to allow for more access. Your thighs are no match for his strength, whimpering gently when his fingers ghost across your clit.

“You can, yawne, for me, please?” He grins softly, a bit of a smirk spreading across his face. The smile never leaves his face as your hands grip hard at his wrists, discoloring his skin from the pressure. Neteyam is obsessed with the way your skin flushes for him, puffy swollen lips parting as he fingers slide in between them. He could watch it for hours, sit here and please you for hours if you’d let him.

A moan rips past your lips when two of his digits slip into your heat, filled to the brim from just his fingers. Your nails dig into his skin, clenching down around him almost impossibly tight. His eyes are narrowed in, mesmerized as his fingers disappear into you. Neteyam curls his fingers just right, an even louder moan. Your hips jerk hard, legs lifting and wrapping around his arms. “Feels too good,” You whine, thighs locking around him.

“Cum for me, Y/n,” He groans, prying your legs apart and replacing it with his head. The pleasure is still too much, legs wrapping around his head as his mouth and fingers never cease for a second.

“Gonna cum for you, gonna cum hard,” You groan, flexing slightly as you grind against his face. Your orgasm blinds you when it washes over you, legs shaking, chest rising and falling rapidly, stomach clenching hard as you rise up. You cum hard, squirting as Neteyam’s fingers still curl and grind into your soft walls. Neteyam has a crazed look on his face, eyes wide as he stares up at you. He's covered in your cum and arousal, just like you're covered in his currently.

“Y/n,”

“Neteyam I’m sorry I’ve never done-“

“Do it again,”

“No, please, Nete,” You whimper loudly, as his fingers curl just right, pleasure washing over you just right. It takes the last bit of your energy, cumming all over his arm in waves as you shake in his hold. Your hands immediately pull his face out from your thighs as you calm him down. He slowly relents, gentle as he removes himself from you.

“Thank you, my mate,” He smiles, “Love you so much,”

“Love you too,”

“Come, let’s go clean up,” He’s careful as he picks you up, leaving your items where they lay. He carefully makes his way over to the river, slowly stepping in as you hold onto his neck, legs wrapped around his torso. A giant smile spreads across your face as he lowers the both of you in, water up to your necks now.

“I'm sorry I’ve been so busy recently, Neteyam,” You smile, pushing back some braids that have fallen from his efforts. “Trying hard to get everything quickly,” You grin, hand softly holding his cheek in your hold, “So I can be a good Tsahìk for the people, for you,”

“I know you will,” He speaks softly, allowing his head to fall forward, pressing his forehead against yours, “I understand, I just miss you,” He instinctively curls into your touch where it rests on his cheek.

“I miss you too, your grandmother asks me about you sometimes. She told me Eywa sees us,”

“Oh, is that so?” He entertains you, smiling when he pulls back. He's standing, but you’re solely relying on him to not have to tread the water and use up what little energy you have left. “What does she wanna know?”

“Eh, you know. The basic grandma stuff, if you’re eating well, staying safe,” You smile, cupping some of the water and dragging it along his face. You clean him up, leaning back in his embrace when you’re satisfied with the job. His arms hold you, hands splayed across your back. “If you’re happy these days.”

“Of course I am, yawne, I have you,” His voice is sincere and gentle as he pulls you close, tucking your head into his shoulder as he holds the base of your neck. “All I need.”

@rainbowsocks @nerys-nerie bc you guys commented on the other post, luv uuuu

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unicorncornflakes · 1 year

Text

Dark Desire - Modern AU! | Chapter 1

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Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Summary: Aemond doesn't know how he feels every time he sees you. Neither do you when you look at it. Your father Aegon has always been absent from your upbringing ever since he divorced your mother. That role has been filled by Aemond until last summer, when everything changed.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes manipulation, violence, death, and inc3st, at some points. Reader has purple eyes and her mother is from Dayne House, the rest is complete free :D

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @afro-hispwriter @chainsawsangel @thetrueblackheart @atherverybest @itsabby15 @boundlessfantasy @partypoison00 @glame @tempo-rary-fix @tssf-imagines @aaaaaamond

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 5.1K

"I don't want to go" You told your mother again at the gates of the Starfall’s airport. Holding the bandolier strap across your chest, it tightly, nervously. You looked at your mother with a sad look. The Dornish woman gave you a sweet look and tried to comfort you before going inside. There you would catch a flight to King's Landing, where you would spend the entire summer vacation with your father's family, Aegon Targaryen. "I can't, please..."

“(Y/N), you'll end up having a good time. Your father told me last night that he really wanted you to go with him” she smiled sweetly at you. Your mother only wanted you to spend the holidays with Aegon. She wanted a bond or relationship to exist where it didn't. All you had of your father were the purple eyes and his family name. There ended all the coincidences between the two. You imagined spending a summer like the previous one. Mainly keeping your grandmother Alicent company, while your father claimed to be too busy.

"Last year he forgot to pick me up" you sighed exhausted, looking elsewhere, trying to suppress the tears that welled up in your eyes. “Please…” you said to your mother again, but she just tried to brush it off.

“I have also warned your grandmother that you were taking the flight, and your aunt, so I don't think there is a way for them to forget about you this year. If one does not go, another will go to look for you” she smiled at you, caressing your shoulder in a reassuring way. You sighed again, this time with more force. You knew that your mother also had little say in that situation. When she'd divorced your father, long before you even had consciousness to remember, your Uncle Daeron, a devoted advocate for his family's cause, had struck that deal, whereby you spent your summer vacation in King's Landing, with your father, and the rest of the year in Starfall with your mother. You were a Targaryen first and foremost, and whether you liked it or not, you had to carry the family name and spend time with them, though you'd never seen your father overly enthusiastic about the idea. You were his only daughter, but that didn't mean much to him either. You would end the summer like the previous one, counting the volumes in the library of that mansion where your grandmother lived. 3,758 volumes of the history of ancient Valyria. That´s the amount you remembered counting last summer.

"Mom..." you sighed again, hugging her and breathing in her scent. You had just come of age, but you didn't care, you would always need it. She was about to get married again and you were about to go off to college. You felt as if you were both about to start separate lives.

“It will be the best summer of your life. The summer before you go to university is always the best” she replied full of emotion. However, she had no idea how much you were going to change that summer, or what it would mean the presence of a certain dragon.

"Aegon," Alicent yelled at him as he continued to sleep off his drunkenness in his bed. With his mouth open and the pillow full of drool, he continued to doze against his mattress as if nothing was happening. He had spent the whole Friday night partying, and what he now needed was to rest. He had spent the entire week being a functional adult. That was his reward. "Aegon!" Alicent yelled at him again, shaking one of his bare shoulders. She narrowed her eyes desperately, as if she couldn't take it anymore with her son. Really, she couldn't take it anymore with the eldest of her offspring.

"It's very early," Aegon muttered, rolling over on the bed and settling back to sleep. “Please, I need to sleep…” he spoke with a thick mouth.

“(Y/N) arrives today. You have to go to the airport for her” ordered her mother. Yes, he remembered getting a text from his ex-wife telling it last night, and he sending a simple ‘OK’. "Get up," she commanded again, but Aegon continued to sleep, or pretend that he was sleeping. The truth about your presence made him uncomfortable, so he preferred to silence his mind with alcohol. It was the best.

“Send Cole, with the black Mercedes. Surely (Y/N) loves it” Aegon replied, knowing that this would make his mother even more angry, but he couldn't think of anything better. He was in no shape to drive, and sometimes looking at you, he could only feel failure. You were the reflection of your mother if it were not for those eyes that showed your Valyrian ancestry. That was all he had left you, and he couldn't feel more of a failure. He was a loser whenever the subject of his daughter across the country and his brief marriage to that Dornish woman had been brought up in public.

"I think your daughter would be excited if you go after her" Alicent snapped. Aegon said nothing more. He couldn't, nor did he want to. He heard his mother leave the room with a tremendous slam. He snuggled back into her bed. He needed to sleep. He needed to rest so he could face you later.

'The dragon has three heads' was the headline you were able to read in the business magazine. It was being read by the man you had to sit next to on that flight. The cover featured your father and his two brothers, Daeron and… Aemond. You saw the photo carefully. The three of them seemed what they were: big businessmen, attractive, powerful, successful and… arrogant. Above all arrogant. Kings of the arms market. The power of war was the key to their fortune. You sighed as you saw Aemond standing in the middle of his brothers, the tallest of them…and also the most handsome. You blushed, quickly looking away from the cover. Aemond was your uncle. Your uncle. You repeated slowly in your mind. If you had little relation to your father, Aemond had tried to fill in gracefully until last year. Last summer he hadn't appeared once during your stay. Only during your birthday party and he had appeared there with stupid Alys. You had become jealous as soon as you saw her. But since you had repeated yourself over and over again, it was because she was stealing Aemond from you as a father figure... and nothing more. Nothing else. To think of anything else would be to admit your own folly. It wasn't right. Although you hadn't realized it, your gaze had once again been fixed on the image of Aemond on that cover. His eye riveted on the camera. His smirk. The patch always well placed. His hair loose but well combed. It almost looked like he wanted to fuck the camera, if he hadn't yet. He was so… so… you would have let him do anything if he asked you to…

“Do you want to read the magazine?” the man, who must have been your father's age, offered it to you. He was quite attractive. Medium brown hair, powerful beard and sincere eyes. He must have been from the north, but a businessman like the rest of the men in your family. Thanks to the seven, he had awakened you from that vivid imagination that you had those days and that you did not share with anyone.

"Oh, no, no" you said nervously and blushing, waving your hand as if it were crazy. "I was looking at the photo" you replied and the northerner laughed charmingly and looked you up and down funny.

"Yes, women usually find these three attractive" he laughed loudly "My first wife was head over heels for them" he laughed loudly and you blushed even more, as if you didn't expect that answer.

"No, no" you shook your head again, blushing if possible. "He's my father" You quickly pointed to Aegon on the cover, wishing that it would stay in one more anecdote. As if you felt proud of him, or you felt him like something more than the one who had impregnated your mother.

"So you are Aegon's daughter?" the northerner looked you up and down, still with an aura of sincere amusement and without malice. “You're the little (Y/N), by the old gods,” he chuckled sweetly. You looked at him confused and he smiled at you again. "I'm Cregan Stark, when you were born I was the head of consultants at Targaryen Industries" he offered you his hand to shake, and you played along and gave it to him. He smiled genuinely and without any malice. "I was already saying that those beautiful eyes were familiar to me" he smiled at you again.

"Well... I don't know who you are" you answered embarrassed as you continued to shake his hand. Once again the fame and the name of your family predicted you. You had thought about changing it to your mother's, but you had not told anyone. You wanted to be anonymous. Not being a Targaryen.

“I'd be surprised if you remembered. You were a baby in your mother's arms the last time I saw you” Cregan laughed kindly and you gave a half smile. At least this man was nice. “Are you going to visit your father?” he asked you leaving the magazine on his lap, trying to be kind to you.

"Yes, I spend every summer with him since I was five years old" you smiled politely. You knew that everyone expected you to speak well of your paternal family. It was what was expected, although it was far from it. You berated yourself in your thoughts for being so open with someone you had just met. But it was the charm of the northerners, seeming good people.

“Tell your Uncle Daeron to call me, when you see him. Tell him that this old wolf has business to discuss with him” He ask you, again with a charming smile and you blushed, as if you had realized at that moment that he was quite an attractive man.

"I'll tell him" you said with a smile, as if you could really talk to your little uncle as much as Cregan must have thought "But, I don't think you're old" you smirked and realized that you were flirting with him, with a man who could be your father and he seemed to notice. He just smiled and looked down at his hands. You had changed. Since last summer you had, since the summer Aemond had abandoned you… you were no longer a little girl. You were a woman, quite attractive, with eyes that many would envy. Your body had taken more curvaceous shapes and you found yourself on many occasions filtering with men older than you. It was… it was just subconsciously, but… but you felt that you were destined to be quite an attractive and powerful woman. Your father's eyes allowed you to achieve it. Only at that moment, did you realize that you weren't a girl anymore.

"Well... I have a son about your age, you know?" He smiled back at you, this time more shy, as if you had some kind of effect on him that you were unaware of until that moment. The truth is that Cregan didn't interest you in the slightest, but you felt powerful seeing him like this... you sighed, turning your gaze to the front, turning your eyelashes in an interesting way, with a flirtatious smile on your lips... If only, he would had been the one in who you were interested... you laughed quietly. In that of conquering, you were a total Targaryen…

"Do you want me to join you tonight? To the dinner, I mean" Alys smoothed her skirt as she looked around the office for her panties. As a form of relief, they just had a quick shag. He was always stressed before you came to spend the summer in the capital.

"Of course not" Aemond buckled up. He plopped down on his office chair. “If you come with me today, things will only get worse. I assure". He picked up a cigarette and used his Zippo to light it. Finally, Alys found her panties and put them on as if nothing had happened. She approached his desk table, swaggering. Alys might be ten years older than him, but she knew how to move. No one could deny that. She leaned against the table, her cleavage meeting Aemond's gaze.

"Yeah… She was so… upset on her last birthday when she saw me with you" she laughed flirtatiously "She's so cute when she's jealous" she smiled sensually. Aemond only snorted at her words.

"She's a girl and she's my niece" he answered, disturbed. He took another puff and blew the smoke out his nose. He didn't look away as he leaned into his chair. He challenged her to keep talking. But, Alys had no way of stopping when an idea was inside her head. Perhaps, that was the reason why they were just friends with benefits. She didn't know when to stop her mouth.

“When she looks at you, her eyes light up. Didn't you notice that? Maybe, she may just be a little innocent girl. She may be your beloved niece" she pouted trying to imitate a young girl "But she really wants to sleep with you, Aemond. And sometimes I think you want the same thing,” Alys snorted. Aemond just smiled at his secretary.

"I think the only jealous one here is you, Alys" he responded to her provocations. She laughed mischievously.

“Aemond, on her last birthday you gave her a red lipstick. It was one of your gifts. A good one, very expensive ” she smiled like the devil again“ And the following week you asked me to paint my lips the same color to suck your cock, exactly the same color ”

"Pure coincidence," he continued, stoically. Her big mouth spoiled the fun and relief that her pussy gave him. His phone began to vibrate. He glanced quickly at the screen and his good eye narrowed in annoyance. He had said that he had to work that Saturday morning, and not to be disturbed. He needed to get away from you. It was the best because what he had felt in his pants when he saw you last year again... it wasn't ethical... nor moral...

"Who is now?" Alys replied, crossing her arms in front of him, also annoyed by the interruption. She liked to tease Aemond. It really was one of the games that excited her the most. Aemond did not answer her. He just picked up the phone and spoke in a firm voice after taking a drag on his cigarette.

"Mother" Aemond greeted her on the other end of the line and smiled silently as he watched Alys turn with feigned annoyance and leave his office, closing the door behind her. "How are you?" he asked as if he hadn't heard from her in months, and he had just seen her that morning, but it was pure courtesy. He knew that if his mother called him, it was to send him some task that the rest of his brothers did not want to do.

"You have to go to the airport to pick up (Y/N)" Alicent told him, without hesitation, as if it were an order. It really was. But, if there was one thing Aemond hated, it was being ordered around. So, he just took another drag on his cigarette and he tried to sound persuasive.

"Can't her father go?" he answered her. After all, Aegon was your father, and Aemond had been responsible for you for a long time. He tried to convince himself that this change in attitude was due to being fed up with taking over the responsibilities of his older brother, but it really wasn't like that. Something much darker was happening to him with you than he refused to admit.

"Aemond" he heard his mother blurt out desperately, as if he was the last one she had asked. It was. Aemond was the last one she had turned to, and she was scolding him for something the others had also refused to do.

“Send Cole, with the black Mercedes. Surely (Y/N) loves it” he answered, knowing that you wouldn't be excited, but he couldn't seem to be able to spend some time alone with you like before... he preferred you to be treated as someone from outside the family. Maybe that's how he could manage to hide what he felt...

"I need that girl to feel like one of the family." After a moment in silence, Alicent spoke. Aegon and Aemond were so alike to her at times, she didn't know what to do. That proposition was proof of that. They had both suggested the same thing, and Alicent kept wondering why.

“I think you're late, mother. (Y/N) is a Dayne, like her mother” he leaned back in his chair in a cocky attitude. He didn't want to argue with his mother, he didn't want to threaten her, but your presence made him feel too many things that weren't right for a man as strict and upright as him. "If she were a Targaryen, she'd be completely different," he said, but then a thought crossed his mind: If you were a Dayne, why did his blood boil every time he saw you with that dark desire of his house? He sighed, you were out of his reach and he couldn't seem to control himself to show you…your place…on a simple car trip alone…he shook his head. He had to be himself again. Not a character from his house from 500 years ago.

"Whether you like it or not, that girl is a Targaryen... one of us..." Alicent replied tiredly. Aemond knew from the tone his mother was using, the conversation was ending, and he was not going to miss the opportunity to feel powerful.

“Send Cole. If she's one of us, she'll love it” he tried to smile and sound arrogant, a sneer on his lips. What was happening to him with you? He needed to be like that so he wouldn't let himself be consumed by what he felt. It had already happened to him last summer when he went looking for you after Aegon forgot. When he saw you... when he saw you, he would have shown you why they called you dragons... he was still thinking about that top that showed too much and those shorts that were too short for a girl who wasn't looking for provoking him... you had looked for him... Yes, you were a damn Dornishwoman... a girl of Starfall... and now, when he saw you, he was feeling like a dragon ready to destroy everything for... a simple moment between your legs... he took another puff and expelled the smoke through his nose... he felt like a monster because of you, and he hated himself even more for blaming you for what happened to him every time he saw you. He collected himself. He was Aemond Targaryen. The CEO of Targaryen Industries. He could spend a summer ignoring you. He had already done it in the past. It wasn't hard. “For tonight's all-family dinner, I'll be late. I have a lot of work,” he lied and Alicent didn't even speak. She just sighed tiredly, without wanting to say much more to her son.

"As you wish" Alicent replied reluctantly. Then it would be Cole coming after you. Alicent closed her eyes wearily. From the day you were born, you had become yet another headache for that highly functional family.

You took your suitcase from the belt that carried it. You took the House of Dayne bracelet that you always put on the handle to drag it and that allowed you to differentiate it from the others. You could wear another cloth bracelet, one with dragons on it, but by the age of 10 you had begun to realize that you were a Dornish girl, with all that that entailed. You were not a dragon. No one in your father's house had treated you like one of the others, except your Aunt Helaena and your Uncle Aemond. And the last one had completely ignored you last year and you didn't even want to understand why. Your grandmother Alicent had tried to make you feel like one of them in every way, but she, like you, wasn't a dragon, so she didn't count. You remembered smiling to yourself that summer that you had dyed your hair silver before going to spend the summer with your father. You wanted to be one of them... and, even though no one had asked whose daughter you were, you had gotten bored and finally let it go... you planned to change your last name before starting university. You would tell your father at the end of that summer… after all, that was the last summer your parents' joint custody ended. Afterwards, you wouldn't have to go back to that house if you didn't want to. You dragged the suitcase to the exit, along with the shoulder bag that always accompanied you and on which you had put a patch with the heraldry of your mother's house two years ago. Aemond had laughed when he had seen you like this. You were then sixteen years old. When you did, your uncle had marveled at that brazen act of rebellion as soon as you walked through the door of their family home in downtown King's Landing. He had laughed until you followed his laugh and hugged him in greeting. Those had been good times. In which he still had time for you. Your father had silently scrutinized you without saying much and your aunt Helaena had tried to reason with you why you should carry the Targaryen dragon as well. Finally, it had been Aemond who had convinced you to sew both, just as he had done with the heraldry of his parents when he had been your age on his also favorite backpack. You had glued it together one summer night, late at dawn... you had blushed when you felt it throw your arm over it on that terrace that overlooked the wide patio of the family residence once you had finished... and, then, you had realized that your uncle... he... was what you were looking for in a man... that you would have done anything for him to kiss you... and after that night in king's landing you returned to Starfall with both shields. Your maternal grandfather had frowned upon seeing you, reminding you that at the end of the day they were the ones who stayed by your side, but you left the Targaryen emblem that year because at least there was one who cared... who loved you... who esteemed you...

After how Aemond had ignored you last summer, you had ripped it off when you returned to Starfall, and now you only carried the heraldry of your maternal house, much to the delight of your maternal grandfather, who sometimes you felt was using you as a thrown weapon against the house of the dragon, but you couldn't blame him. You knew little of your parents' breakup, but your mother hadn't had a good time. You understood your grandfather's sentiment to protect your mother at all costs, even if it meant throwing yourself against the dragons. Your mother's family viewed you as a dragon, your father's family as a Dayne. The feeling of not belonging was the only thing you'd grown up with, but, you were a Dayne, of Starfall. Yes, you convinced yourself. That's what you were.

You saw Cregan in a fleeting moment, and he came up to you. You two had spent the whole flight talking, and the truth was that you had also been flirtatious throughout the trip. “Do you need me to help you call a taxi or…?” he told you with kindness and that closed northern accent, smiling at you. He was trying to be polite to the daughter of an old acquaintance, even though you felt there was something else to it, too, after spending the entire flight laughing with you and your coquettish manners.

"No, I think they're coming for me" you shrugged with a charming smile and he was entranced looking at you. You had seen on the plane that he had a wedding ring mark on his finger, so he must have recently divorced...

"Oh, well" he told you delaying his departure, although it was obvious that a very expensive car was waiting for him at the door. He quickly opened his wallet and took out a business card on which he scribbled something on the back with the pen he carried in his pocket. "My card, in case your uncle Daeron doesn't have my phone" he said offering it to you and you took it with a polite smile, to finish putting it in one of the pockets of the shoulder bag.

"I'll give it to him" you answered with a smile, polite and correct.

“The truth is… that behind I have written my personal cell phone. I'm going to be in King's Landing on business until the end of next month” he smiled charmingly at you. You blushed and looked away with a smile "If you ever want to have a coffee... or go to dinner..." he suggested with a mischievous half smile and you laughed charmingly. You weren't interested in the slightest, but you found it irresistible to start having that power over men.

"I will take that fully into account" you answered, superficial and attractive, as if that helped you to appease the pain you felt for Aemond not being interested in that way by you...

"Miss (Y/N)" Cole interrupted the conversation, correctly and perfectly. His hair is always well combed and with a sober face behind his sunglasses. Your grandmother's favorite bodyguard... so, yes, in the end he had come to pick you up, but it hadn't been anyone from the family. Cole was her most trusted worker, but he wasn't your father, he wasn't your aunt Helaena, he wasn't Daeron either… let alone Aemond. Cregan said goodbye quickly giving you two kisses, indicating that he hoped to see you throughout that summer, and you went to Cole. "Her suitcase of hers, miss (Y / N)" he told him as he reached to pick it up.

"No, do not worry. I can" you replied, holding on to the handle, but he kept insisting.

“It wasn't a question, miss (Y/N). Your grandmother would kill me if she finds out that I let you carry it, it's my job" he replied carrying the suitcase himself while you followed him to that luxurious and expensive car, parked at the airport door, because your father's family could allowed to park where they wanted. No one was ever going to say anything against the owners of Targaryen Industries. While Cole put the suitcase in the trunk, you took your mobile phone from the pocket of those very short pants and turned it on. A couple of messages from friends, another from your mother asking you to let her know when you'll arrive… and another from your grandmother Alicent indicating that Cole would come for you, since the others were very busy with company matters. You sighed, did it matter how little you meant to them? That was going to be your last summer there, it was starting to become clear to you. Cole slammed the trunk shut and opened the rear seat door for you to sit there. Your mouth was about to open to ask him to go in the passenger seat, but you knew it was stupid. Cole must have been the person who took his job in the world the most seriously. You just walked in, sat in that leather upholstered car and sighed as the bodyguard took his seat and started the car engine. You were looking at your phone while the car was moving slowly when Cole broke the silence again.

“How have you been doing this last year of high school?” he asked, taking a quick glance in the rearview mirror, trying to make conversation. "Your uncle Aemond told me that you are an exceptional student." Aemond had said that…? Well, you weren't bad at studying, but to be exceptional was to have the grades he would have had in high school. He compared you to him, he always had and that's why you guys had such a good rapport until last summer. Even that year he hadn't even written to you once, when before he had done it almost daily. Distance. That was what you thought he was marking, distance. But he kept showing off about you, or at least that was what you had intuited from Cole's words.

"Fine, normal. I passed everything. Now I´m thinking that's what I'll do with my life next year” you joked, and Cole flashed what must have been a smile on such a serious face.

"I thought you had been admitted to the King's Landing Business School, that you were going to follow in your father's footsteps," he told you, his attention fixed on the road. You laughed sweetly.

"The company would end up sinking if I got to be in charge" you continued laughing and Cole looked at you in the rearview mirror again, this time with concern, as if he hadn't expected your answer.

"Well, you're a Targaryen, your place is in the family business, like your father's and your uncles'," he said with concern, as if he didn't understand that you couldn't feel like one of them, as if your place really… were there. No. You didn't belong to the Targaryens…if not…one of them would have come looking for you instead of sending Cole.

You both continued in silence. You answering messages on your phone and Cole driving. Did anyone from your paternal family really expect you to follow in their footsteps? Perhaps it was what might have been expected in another situation, but not at a time like this. You were not your father's daughter. Helaena and Daeron always tended to forget your birthday and… Aemond had decided to ignore you forever… What was expected of you? They couldn't demand anything of you. They couldn't because you weren't one of them. Those pretty eyes. Those eyes so pretty, that now they looked so sad, was all you had of them. You suppressed the urge to cry as Cole continued to drive. You were nothing to your father, nor to your uncles, but what hurt you the most was to be nothing to… Aemond.

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