#rarely speaks walks on all fours the lot

[urisk-factor]

Lealmoc is the first person Duro meets - being a senior in the beastkeeping track, she sees him sitting alone in a corner and went huh mood and approached him. As it turns out, Bessley is the first ever palisman Duro meets. Poor thing can't even grasp the idea of the animal staffs being alive.

Leal helps him with beastkeeping, and also helps him look after a baby Laird, pulling him into her tiny friend group (Bonnie and Marina). She is totally unaware of his status as an (ex) Titan Trapper until the collectpocalypse, at which point they holed up in Hexide with the rest of the students, the chaos resulting in Duro's illusion gem (I forgot the word) shattering.

The only person who really cares all that much is Rebel because she ran into one of the Titan Trappers once and decided to keep them in mind if it ever wanted to try assassinate Belos again. Rebel just ends up questioning him a little then shrugs and leaves, as Rebel does.

[illyrianbitch]

Of Our Own Devices — Part Four

For @erisweekofficial Day 4: Traditions

Pairing: Reader x Eris

Summary: The Autumn Equinox Ball is a tradition of royalty, an event to symbolize the growth, prosperity, and power of the court. This year, Eris has set his sights on having you at his side.

Warnings: yearning tbh

Word Count: 3.5k

Part Three | Part Five

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

"No."

Eris grimaced at the door shut in his face, the sharp sound echoing through the quiet night. The heavy oak door, adorned with intricate carvings, gleamed under the porch faelights.

He took a deep breath, grip tightening on the box in his hands— it was large enough to require both of his palms and weighed heavy in his hold. Not because of its contents, no, but because of the importance it held to him now, in this moment.

He knew you were still there, lingering behind the door. He hadn't heard your footsteps to prove otherwise. 

And he knew you. You were curious, and despite how much you loathed him—something he assumed was quite a lot at this point—your curiosity would be biting at you, begging you to understand why he’d come.

After all these years, you'd want to know why he was here, at your door. 

"Y/n," Eris said tightly. “It’s considered bad taste to slam doors in the faces of court royalty.”

He heard a scoff from the other side of the door. The sound tugged at his lips, almost coaxing a smile. His words had hit their intended mark, indeed.  It was oddly comforting, in a way he couldn’t fully grasp, to know he still knew how to get under your skin.

The door clicked as a lock was undone, but it only opened a crack. Through the narrow gap, the warm light from inside casted a halo around your silhouette. An angry eye glared at him.

"Go away," you sneered. "It's in bad taste to harass females who don't wish to speak to you."

Eris didn't have a chance to open his mouth before the door was shut on him once more. He let out another deep, frustrated breath. 

"You're going to ruin your door, Vixen."

Silence.

He shifted his weight on his feet. He hadn’t seen you since before the second war on Hybern—since that night in his cabin following Feyre and Lucien’s trespassing. Maybe the time hadn’t been long enough. Perhaps it would take centuries to regain your trust, if he had ever held it in the first place. 

But Eris didn’t have that long. He needed to make this work now.

"Y/n," he tried again. "Please let me in."

More silence.

He was nearly ready to walk away, to accept this as one of his rare defeats, when he heard the click of the lock again. The door creaked open wider, revealing you standing just inside. Your anger was still evident, still rippling off you in waves, but there was something else in your gaze—curiosity.

And he suddenly found it hard to breathe.

He'd almost forgotten how beautiful you were. 

The years, which had been rough on him, seemed to have only made you more breathtaking. Perhaps it was the distance, or maybe it was what he’d seen in the war, but Eris had found a newfound appreciation for the beauty in life.

All of it paled in comparison to you.

It was a shame—a sin, even—to have you hidden away from the eyes of the central Autumn Court, from the vibrant life that might have appreciated your beauty. It felt wrong to deprive the world of such glory, of the ability to witness you. But then, he thought, he was grateful for it. There was no other scent in the house, no jewelry on your hands, no glow of a bond. It was just you, here, and he was thankful for that.

You stepped aside. "Well?" You said, tone clipped. "Come inside before I change my mind.”

Eris didn’t need to be told twice. He stepped over the threshold, his heart pounding as he crossed into the warmth and light of your home.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“No.”

Eris almost rolled his eyes, the word feeling like a brick wall he was constantly battling against. 

“Is that the only word in your vocabulary?”

Something flashed in your eyes.

"Maybe,” you said. “I guess I’m too ordinary to have the vocabulary of someone as well-regarded as a High Lord’s heir.”

Eris flinched— he didn't bother hiding it, though he knew he should've. Instead, he quickly collected himself, straightening his posture further, adopting a cold, unamused face.

You were always one to hold grudges, always one to remember the details. It was why you'd bonded with Lucien, someone equally as observant.

Lucien had gotten that habit from Eris, whether he'd realized it or not.

Ordinary. It was one of the last things he’d called you, a comment that had haunted him more persistently than other nightmares. The memory of his father’s cruel hand, the sight of wounded siblings—all of it seemed to merge with the sting of that word, with the memory of your palm against his cheek.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a moment to look around, absorbing the space around him. It was alive with the essence of you—every detail, every personal touch. He walked over to a table near the entrance and placed the box down, his fingers lingering on its edges for a moment. His gaze wandered to the art on the walls, running a finger along their frames. 

You cleared your throat from behind him. Eris turned, finding you standing with your arms crossed, jaw tight and rigid. You looked like someone who had allowed a wild animal to prowl around their home, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.

For a moment, he was at a loss.

There was no sinister agenda here, no political gain, no deep analysis needed for his next move. But he still needed to tread carefully. He hated that he had to. There was too much to say and not enough at all. Small talk would be useless. You wouldn’t entertain it anyway. He was treading a thin line.

You nodded towards the box. “What is it?”

Eris, casually fixing his sleeves, replied, “A gift.”

“A gift?” you echoed, a bitter laugh escaping you. “I don’t want your gifts.”

He stared at you for a moment, taking in your features, your stance. 

“Come to the Autumn Equinox ball with me.”

You blinked. A smile broke across your face— it lacked any genuine warmth, any kindness. It was pure disbelief, pure anger even. Another bitter, humorless laugh escaped you as you ran your hands along your face. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Eris didn’t react, didn't so much as move a muscle. It only seemed to anger you further. 

“Where do you hold all of your audacity? Is there a specific pocket in those tailored jackets?”

In another situation, he might have laughed at the comment. It was funny, truly, it was. But this wasn’t that moment. Instead, he merely raised an eyebrow, unphased. “The ball is—”

“I know when it is,” you interrupted, your voice sharp. “I also know who it’s reserved for. And I’m not going.”

Your hands curled into fists and Eris’s eyes tracked the movement. His steady gaze returned to your face as he repeated, “Come to the ball, Y/n.”

Had your jaw been any tighter, you might have shattered your teeth from the sheer force of clenching them.

"Did you lose your hearing in this war?" You sneered. "I said no."

Usually, in any other circumstance, Eris would have respected your wishes, recognized the discomfort in your stance, and taken his leave. He would have understood, would have taken the clear signals that you wanted him gone. But tonight was different. He couldn’t afford to walk away, not when he needed you there, not when he needed a chance, a moment. His resolve hardened, his gaze unwavering as he faced you. He knew he had to press further, even if it meant pushing past your boundaries. With a determined breath, he pulled out the only card he had left:

 “Consider this calling in my favor.”

The world went quiet for a moment, absent of your breath as you processed his words. He watched as you blinked once, as your gaze took him in, then watched as you blinked again. A small crease appeared between your brows. 

"You're calling a centuries old bargain for some ball?"

Eris scanned your face, allowed his gaze to linger on your lips, to drift to your eyes. Then, he smiled. 

"Seems so."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The Autumn Equinox ball was a spectacle of opulence and splendor.

It stood as one of the premier events in the Autumn Court, the kind of affair that young females, newly recognized as adults, fantasized about attending alongside someone of high standing, someone deserving of an invitation. You had only heard whispers of it, never coming close enough to the court’s grand celebrations when Beron hosted such festivities.

Despite his appreciation for the grander, more beautiful things in life, Lucien never attended such events. You always thought it was a waste. Lucien was immaculate in his presentation, in the way he dressed and carried himself. You used to long to see him dressed for a ball, waiting for you, asking you to stand by his side.

But you weren’t a family of title. These events were reserved for royalty and high-ranking court members. Beron extended invitations to other courts as well, but it was never out of friendliness. It was a display of power, a way to showcase the flourishing of his court.

But now you were here, surrounded by the Autumn Court's elite.

And you'd never felt so out of place. 

The grand ballroom shimmered as you entered, the soft glow of faelight casting a warm light over the crowd, the chatter of conversation blending with the gentle strains of a string quartet.

You looked around, hands clenched at your sides, gripping the fabric of your gown as if it were an anchor. You avoided the eyes of those around you, afraid that their looks would make you feel smaller than you already did, that you'd hold their gaze wrong, prove to them that you didn't belong. 

Within seconds of scanning the sea of elegantly dressed guests, you found Eris’s amber eyes. 

The rest of the world seemed to blur as that fire met yours. 

He made his way toward you, cutting through the crowd with the same grace and authority he commanded in all things, regal like a blade through silk. His attire was impeccable:  a deep, rich burgundy jacket adorned with intricate golden embroidery that caught the light with every movement, fitted trousers, and polished shoes that gleamed like liquid shadow. His outfit was completed with a pair of exquisite gold cufflinks and a matching set of earrings, each studded with garnets that mirrored the fiery tones of the autumn leaves.

Eris paused, running an attentive eye down your figure. A small beat of silence passed, as if he was deciding how to approach the night, contemplating what to say. 

“Dance with me,” he finally said, extending a hand toward you.

You hesitated, glancing down at the gown that hugged your form. “I—I don’t know how.”

Your answer didn't seem to phase him.

“Dance with me,” he repeated, his voice carrying a note of insistence. “I will show you how.”

You hesitated. It would be so easy to refuse, to walk away and leave this entire farce behind. But something in his tone, something in the atmosphere of the ball, made it clear that this was not just another game.

Fighting it was no use. This could be your last night around the eldest Vanserra. If you truly wished to never see him again, he would probably respect that. He had always been a male of his word when he wanted to be.

But as you looked around the beautiful ballroom, draped in the soft glow of countless lights, you felt the weight of the opportunity slipping through your fingers. You would never be in such a lavish dress again, never witness such finery. Take advantage of it, your mind whispered, pretend for a night that you are more than ordinary.

With a resigned sigh, you placed your hand in his, allowing him to lead you to the center of the ballroom. His touch was more gentle than you would have thought, though the palms of his hands are calloused. You felt an urge to compare him to something divine, to admire how he was finely polished like a beautiful, stone statue. Something of greatness, something worthy of being praised.

You did your best to keep your breathing steady as his hand wrapped around your waist, tried not to fully inhale his scent as his head dipped down when he spoke.

“Is the dress to your liking?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, struggling to keep your expression neutral. To say it was to your liking was an understatement.

The box Eris had left was unassuming, its exterior plain and nondescript. But when you opened it, you were greeted by the most breathtaking gown you’d ever seen. It was a rich, burnished amber, catching the light with every movement. The fabric shimmered like fallen leaves in the dusk, and the intricate embroidery, reminiscent of autumn’s delicate patterns, wove around the bodice and down the skirt. It was as if the essence of the season itself had been captured and spun into the fabric.

It felt entirely too beautiful to be worn by the likes of you.

You glanced at Eris. Up close, you could see every freckle that decorated his nose and cheeks, could count them if you truly wanted to, each dot pronounced against the pale skin. 

“Yes,” you replied curtly, struggling to keep your voice steady. You turned your gaze away quickly, not wanting to stare at him longer. "What poor seamstress did you have to threaten to have it made on such short notice?”

 "None," he replied. "Do you truly think so low of me?"

"Yes."

Against your better judgment, you found yourself glancing back at him anyways, your eyes meeting his as he studied you. Eris’s gaze flickered, his expression briefly faltering before that well-practiced charm returned. He laughed, and the sound carried a note of sincerity, a rough edge that hinted it hadn’t been used recently.

“Well, no matter. You look beautiful in it.” His hand moved against the small of your back. "You look beautiful."

Your stomach flipped, a feeling so embarrassingly strong that your cheeks began to burn. You were supposed to be angry at him— you were angry at him.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” you retorted, though a small smile tugged at your lips. The gentle movement of the dance seemed to ease some of your tension, some of that anger that had settled in your bones. Either that, or the warmth that radiated from Eris's hand. You'd never been this close to him, never felt his skin against yours. It resonated somewhere deep inside you, brought warmth to places you weren't aware were cold.

“Distance isn’t what I seek tonight,” he said, his voice dropping to a murmur.

For a moment, you faltered. He noticed, of course—he always noticed. His hand tightened on your waist, guiding you back into the rhythm. His eyes were trained on you, but there was something different in them tonight. A weight. A silence behind the usual arrogance.

“What are you seeking?” 

His lips quirked into a smile, not the biting, sarcastic one you were used to, but something softer. “Time to think.”

You frowned, a crease deepening between your brows. “At a ball?”

“Yes.”

"Liar," you muttered, but there was no venom in your voice.

Eris hummed softly, a thoughtful sound, but offered no immediate response. Instead, he guided you through a graceful turn, the fabric of your dress swirling around you.

There it was again—that strange softness. He wasn’t needling you like usual, wasn’t pushing for a reaction. It made your stomach tighten with suspicion. His grip on your waist felt protective now, and as you stared at him, you realized that the usual front he presented—the one of the cruel prince, the sharp-tongued heir—was slipping.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight," you murmured, "Did you finally run out of clever quips, or are you saving them for another unfortunate soul?”

You wanted to provoke the usual sharp retort from him, something to break the coil in your stomach, to bring a sense of cold familiarity. You wanted the mask back, wanted the bitter, sharp Eris. The one you knew, the one you could hate. But he didn’t bite. Instead, he glanced around the room, taking in the grand ballroom and its glittering guests. 

You followed his gaze, watched as it settled, momentarily, on a corner far across the room. On the Night Court's contingent. They were one of the few courts in attendance tonight. Rhysand stood in all his glory, a beacon of effortless power, and beside him, two females. One was shorter but radiated undeniable authority, and the other— the other you recognized instantly. The High Lady. Feyre Archeron. 

Cursebreaker. 

Their eyes seemed to lock onto you, and a shiver ran down your spine. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, an unsettling sensation settling over you. Instinctively, you turned to Eris, but he had yet to look back.

When his gaze did return to you, there was something unreadable in it, something that made the hair on the back of your neck rise. “Do you believe in second chances?” 

"What?" You blinked, instinctively pulling back, but Eris’s hands caught you, pulling you back in with a natural, effortless motion. 

“Second chances,” he repeated, his tone as calm as ever. "Do you believe in them?"

He spun you again gently. For a moment, you felt a flash of disorientation as you twirled, your feet struggling to keep up with the rhythm of the dance. Thoughts were pounding against your head, all equally heavy, equally damning. Your chest felt tight with an emotion you couldn't quite describe— not now, not here.

"I'm not sure."

Eris didn’t offer another word. Instead, he studied your face, his gaze tracing over your features like he was memorizing you.

“Our ancestors,” he began, “Used to believe this time of year marked change. The Autumn Equinox. A point when things are supposed to shift, make way for something new.”

You raised a brow at him. “Is that what this ball represents? Growth?”

Eris’s lips curled into the faintest smile. “In theory,” he said, "Our Court is one of endless change, after all. Decay and rebirth.”

You eyed him closely. There was something about the way he spoke tonight, something too pensive, too reflective. He was rarely like this—rarely this vulnerable, even in his cryptic way.

"Why did you ask me here?”

You fought to keep your voice steady, to keep it level despite the way his touch made your skin tingle. 

He continued to guide you in a slow, measured dance. You hadn't even thought about your skills, hadn't been granted a moment to overthink your movements. The ballroom around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you in a world of elegant isolation. With a practiced twirl, he spun you, and you found yourself dipping into a graceful arch.

“I owe you an apology, Vixen,” he said softly. He brought you back into his arms. Your head swirled with the motion, with his face so close to yours. Your bodies were touching now, nearer than you had been when the dance begun. The proximity intensified the warmth of his touch, making it difficult to breathe. 

“Many, in fact," Eris amended. His hand tightened around yours, and you could feel the solid weight of his words as if they were pressing into your very bones. 

“I know you may hate me,” he continued, his voice low, almost a whisper, a confession of sorts. To you. To himself. “But I do care for you. There is something about you. It unnerves me and entices me all the same.”

You were at a loss for words, completely unaware of the song’s ending or the shifting crowd around you. As you came to a halt, Eris’s eyes widened slightly, as if he were nervous. 

“I don’t hate you,” you said, the words slipping out before you could fully grasp their weight. His eyes now glowed with something else, flickered with something that felt like hope. You swallowed, forcing yourself to continue, “I wish I did. It would be easier. It would make more sense. But I don’t hate you.”

Eris looked down, a sense of vulnerability, of thoughtfulness, passed through his face. It was almost bashful, and the sight of it was so foreign, so out of character, that it made your chest tighten.  He lifted his gaze to meet yours, and as he released your hand, he took a step back and bowed. “Then I ask for you to hold onto that.”

A frown tugged at your lips. “Why?" You took a step forward towards him, now eager to close the gap, to have his warmth near you again. "What are you up to?”

But Eris simply looked at you, tilting his head with a fleeting smile that vanished almost instantly as he straightened up.

“Enjoy the rest of the ball, Y/n. But make sure to leave before the feast. You won’t enjoy it.”

He adjusted his clothes with a delicate hand, his face hardening into a mask of cold indifference. With a final glance, he turned and walked toward the far corner of the room, to where the Night Court’s presence lingered like an encroaching dusk. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note: idk guys something about having someone who just sees straight through eris and despite knowing they have every reason to hate him, they still try to dig deeper and dont accept him at surface level... it gets me.

almost as if...she just has some innate sense... some connection...that pushes her to him...over and over.....hmm. strange.

thanks for reading <3

eris week/of our own devices tag list 🫶🏻: @i-know-i-can @scarsandallaz @anainkandpaper @ratgirl2020 @nyenye

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound-blog

@melissat1254 @secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

[babyfoxflower]

The Hunter and the Hunted

Human! Alastor x Fem! Reader

*Disclaimer: This story is an AU and does not follow Hellaverse canon. Alastor is pretty much just a hetero, if this offends you in anyway, then I suggest you block me and go on your way.*

Synopsis: This the story of Alastor and the love of his life, his huntress, the charming Y/n Rosier. A rare beauty out on the bayou, his heart is instantly stolen by her. He’ll do anything for his beloved, even if that includes murder.

Story Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Violence, Blood, Hunting, Murder, Mentions of Child Abuse, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, 1920s Attitudes Towards Women

Chapter Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Mentions of Child Abuse, Alastor drugs his mom so he and Y/n can fool around, Mentions of Masturbation, Reader has small tits but Al loves them, Dry Humping

Prev Chapter Four next chapter

“Lunch is ready, dears!” Mrs. Hartfelt called from the kitchen, “Alastor, love, come help me set up the dining table!”

“Coming, Mother!” He replied, “I’ll be right back,” he told Y/n.

“I can help too.”

“Please, you’re our guest. All you have to do is relax,” he gave her a lighthearted smile.

“Oh, alright,” she returned the smile.

“I’ll come get you when the table is ready,” he lightly kissed her hand before leaving to help his mother.

Y/n fidgeted her fingers.

I’m not used to relaxing. I’m usually the one cooking and setting up the table. This is strange. Wait, do I actually like doing the house work? Or is it just that I’m so used to it that I can’t even fathom not doing it?

Alastor entered the kitchen, “Smells delicious.”

“I didn’t have time to buy shrimp, so I used that one recipe that calls for venison instead. You think she’ll like it?”

“I’m sure, she’ll love it. Nobody cooks better than you, Momma,” he gave her a reassuring smile.

“Hm, why are you being so sweet all of a sudden? You two necking in there or something?”

“Haha. I’m just in a good mood. I’m having lunch with my two favorite people.”

His mother raised an eyebrow, “Okay, lover boy, go set the plates and utensils on the table.”

———————————————————————

As soon as Y/n took that first bite of Mrs. Hartfelt’s jambalaya, she didn’t want to stop.

“Oh my! This is the best jambalaya I’ve ever had,” Y/n exclaimed.

Mrs. Hartfelt seemed relieved, “I’m glad you like it, I was worried you wouldn’t since it’s not a traditional jambalaya recipe.”

“No, I love venison. I never would have thought to put in jambalaya but it’s delicious!”

Alastor had the biggest grin on his face, “We’re big on venison in this house.”

“Would you like the recipe?” Mrs. Hartfelt asked Y/n.

“Oh, yes please. My little sisters would love this,” Y/n replied.

“I’ll write up a copy for you to take home, dear.”

“Thank you so much, Claudine!”

“Don’t even mention it. Tell me what are your little sisters like? I adore children.”

“They can be a handful at times, but they’re good girls.”

“You should see them, Mother, they’re very cute and so polite. They’re definitely being raised right,” Alastor chimed in before smiling at Y/n.

“They must be, if they won you over,” Mrs. Hartfelt said to Alastor, “Alastor usually isn’t fond of kids, even when he was one. How old are they?”

“Annalise, the oldest, is ten. She’s an intelligent one, always gets good marks in school. Then there’s Marie, who’s seven. She can be real trouble maker. And then there’s Louise, who’s five. She daydreams a lot and I often wonder what’s going on in her little mind.”

“You speak of them as if they’re your own,” Mrs. Hartfelt smiled.

“They might as well be,” Y/n gave a small smile.

———————————————————————

Y/n looked outside of the window; the storm that had started during lunch gave no indication of slowing down any time soon.

I wonder if my sisters are alright. Hopefully they made it home before the storm.

Alastor stood next to her, “Would you look at that, there’s no way you can walk home in this weather.”

“It’s fine, I can make it home. I have to,” she replied.

He was about to protest when his mother chimed in.

“Nonesense! You’ll catch your death out there! You’ll just have to stay here until the storm passes.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I need to get home and start making dinner for my family,” Y/n turned to Mrs. Hartfelt.

Mrs. Hartfelt shook her head, “I can’t allow you to leave until it’s safe. Think of it this way, if you get sick then you won’t be able to care for your family.”

Alastor took Y/n’s hand in his, “It’ll be alright, my dear. Annalise is a smart girl, I’m sure she’ll be able to manage,” he smiled reassuringly.

Besides there’s no way in hell I’m letting you leave this house right now.

“Alright, thank you so much for your hospitality,” Y/n gave in.

———————————————————————

“Here you go, dear,” Mrs. Hartfelt handed Y/n one of her nightgowns, “Hm, you’re a petite little thing, aren’t you? It might be too big.”

“It’s fine, thank you,” Y/n smiled.

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart! Follow me, I’ll show you to the guest bedroom.”

Y/n followed her up the stairs and down the hallway to the very last room on the right. Mrs. Hartfelt pulled a ring of keys from one of the pockets in her apron. She unlocked the door and opened it.

“Well, there you are, my dear. Now, Alastor’s room is right across from this one,” she pointed to door on the left side of the hall, “So, if you need anything, you can ask him. Also, the first door on the right is the bathroom, alright?”

So, Alastor will be sleeping right across from me? Hehe, I wonder how deep he sleeps?

“Thank you so much, Claudine! You’re very kind for letting me stay the night,” Y/n said.

“Of course! Now, I’ll leave you be. Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night.”

Y/n stepped into the room, turned on the lamp, and closed the door behind her. The room had a canopy bed, a dresser, a vanity, and floor length mirror. She took off her shoes and stepped out of her dress.

She carefully folded it and placed it on the dresser. Next came off her pink slip, her garters and stockings, and finally her brassiere. She stood there, staring at herself in the mirror.

The scar from the time her father cut her stomach with a knife ever present on her otherwise smooth skin. She fingered it and winced. Whenever she touched it, she swore she could still feel the cold blade slicing into her flesh. The pain still very much fresh in her mind.

“Will you still think I’m beautiful when you see this?”

She snapped out of whatever trance she was in and pulled the white long sleeved nightgown over her head. It reached down to her ankles, but it probably only reached to Mrs. Hartfelt’s calves. It was also slightly loose in the shoulders, but it would have to do.

Meanwhile, Alastor was washing the dishes in the kitchen while his mother came in.

He smiled, “Well, what do you think of her?”

“She’s a sweet girl. Pretty, good even temperament. I like her,” his mother replied.

“That’s wonderful! I knew you’d like her. She’s a peach, isn’t she? A real Southern Belle,” He exclaimed.

She laughed, “It’s also cute how you gush over her. Is she your girlfriend yet?”

“Not yet, I’m still in the midst of wooing her,” he half joked.

While it wasn’t exactly formal courting, he was waiting the perfect time to ask her to be his girlfriend.

“I don’t think you have to do much wooing, I see the way she looks at you and how you look at her. You too are quite smitten with each other.”

Alastor didn’t say anything, continuing to wash and dry the dishes.

“Oh, Honey, will do me a favor? Get my sleeping drops and put them in a cup of water for me. I have to go make sure the doors and windows are shut tight so the water doesn’t get in the house.”

“Sure,” he replied, putting the last of the dishes away.

“Thank you, love! And remember, only three drops. More than that and I won’t be able to get up early.”

“Three drops. Understood,” he smiled at her.

She ruffled his hair affectionately before going to do her task.

Alastor poured a glass of water and then got out his mother’s sleeping drops. He put the first two drops in before an intriguing idea popped into his head.

If I just put in a drop or two more, Mother might sleep more soundly. Then Y/n and I can…have a little fun.

He squeezed the next drop in. Before putting the fourth in, he wondered if this would actually be a good idea.

It’s not as if she’ll die or anything that serious.

In went another drop.

And then another one.

Five drops were now in his mother’s cup.

“That should do it. Sleep well, Momma,” he said to himself before putting the bottle up.

His mother came back into the kitchen, “Ah, thank you kindly, Darling!”

“You’re very welcome, Mother,” he grinned as he handed her the cup.

He kissed her cheek, “Good night.”

“Good night,” she replied before heading off to bed, taking a few swigs along the way.

———————————————————————

Alastor knocked on the guest bedroom door, “Are you still awake, babydoll?”

“Just a second, pretty boy,” replied Y/n.

Soon the door swung open, “I’ve been waiting for you, Sugar.”

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. But the good news is my mother should be out for the count right about now,” he lifted her up, carrying her bridal style to his room.

“Are you sure she won’t be waking up anytime soon?”

“Quite sure, I slipped her a few extra sleeping drops,” he chuckled.

“Ah, good ol’ sleeping drops,” she laughed.

He laid her down on his bed, a double bed with a nice wooden frame. He crawled on top of her, making sure to be the one to steal a kiss this time. She sighed contentedly as those familiar soft lips were back on hers. Wet kissing noises filled the room mixed with tender moans, lips moving in sync with one another.

“I didn’t…get to…tell you this before,” she said.

“Yes?”

“You’re really good at this.”

“Thanks, I’ve never done this with anyone before,” he bragged humbly.

“Really? Me neither.”

Alastor peppered little kisses along her jaw, before nibbling on her earlobe.

Y/n bite down on her lip, “Ooo…ah! That feels…amazing!”

He grinned, licking the shell of her ear.

“You know…I’m so glad you…came to my room. I was getting pretty lonely without you.”

“Really? How lonely, my dear?” He whispered in her ear.

“Well, before you came knocking, I was…oh I shouldn’t say it!” She turned away.

“Now you have to tell me,” he made her look at him, “or we can just go to bed?”

She knew from the sounds of it, that was an order, not a request.

“It’s so unladylike! But if I must tell you, I was…touching myself,” she said with the most innocent look in her eyes.

That should get him all riled up. Hehe.

She was what? Oh dear lord, this woman’s gonna be the death of me.

“Is that so? Hmm, you’re naughtier than I thought you were, Darling…I like that,” he licked his lips, “Do you often play with yourself?”

“Every night, since I met you. I find my hands wandering around my body. Touching, stroking, squeezing…I pretend they’re your hands and I cry out your name,” she got right into his ear, “Alastor!”

His eyes darkened with lust, “Well, then that’s something we have in common, our nightly routine.”

“You don’t think I’m a slut then?”

“No, no! Ma chérie, I could never think of you in such a degrading way. You’re not a slut, you’re my naughty girl,” he planted kisses on the crook of her neck.

“Oh, I like that. Call me that again please?” She smiled, blushing.

“What? My naughty girl? My naughty little girl who gets off to the thought of me,” he smirked, lightly sucking on her neck.

She giggled and moaned.

She started to finger one of the buttons on his shirt, “If you take this off, I’ll take off this nightgown.”

He gave her a sultry grin as he began unbuttoning his shirt, “You have yourself a deal, little lady.”

She watched him with eager anticipation, rubbing her thighs together.

As the final button came undone, her eyes lit up, “You’re gorgeous, Sugar. Absolutely gorgeous.”

His face flushed as he tossed his shirt to the floor.

He was gorgeous with his broad shoulders, perfect pecs, toned biceps, and six pack abs. He had a few light patches of hair on his chest and a sexy happy trail.

She placed her small hand on his chest and let it run down towards his lower stomach.

He gently took hold of it, pressing a few little kisses on her wrist, “Your turn, Baby. Though, I already know for a fact that every part of you is utterly enchanting.”

That’s no lie either, my dear. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.

She blushed under his lustful gaze, slowly lifting the borrowed nightgown.

I hope I live up to your expectations. But this ugly scar…

Now it was his eyes lighting up, “You are ravishing, Darling.”

He kissed her stomach before she even got the item of clothing off, causing her shudder, heat pooling in her knickers.

Finally it was off, and he kissed his way up to her breasts. They were small and pretty.

“I know that they’re not big but I hope they still please you…” she shyly whispered.

“What on earth are you talking about, my dear!? Your bubs are perfect. They’re perky and pretty. They also fit nicely in my hands,” he gave them a few soft squeezes.

She moaned his name, “Oh Alastor…”

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled into a passionate kiss. Their mouths practically devoured each other. Y/n suddenly felt Alastor’s tongue on her bottom lip, begging for entry. She obliged, slightly smiling as she parted her lips for him. Their tongues met, swirling around each other. He groaned softly as she began rub her clothed crotch against his.

His cock was already hard, but thanks to her gyrations, it somehow hardened even more. He wrapped her leg around his waist as he copied her motions. Together they found a rhythm.

Every time he grind against her, the head of his covered member stroked her clit.

“Th…that feels…amazing! Don’t stop, Sugar,” Y/n cried out, running her hands over his muscular back.

Alastor smirked at her flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips, “Don’t worry, I didn’t plan on stopping, babydoll.”

The skin on his back felt different than the rest of his body.

These feel like scars. They go all the way down his back. Is he…is he like me?

He started kissing her behind her ear, making his way down to her pretty little neck, sucking and nipping gently at it. She couldn’t stop sighing and gasping from the pleasure. Her sweet little voice was getting higher and higher.

It wasn’t long until she started to feel that familiar tingling sensation from head to toe. She shuddered as she came undone, her knickers soaked. Her face twisted in ecstasy.

“You look and sound so cute when you climax,” he praised, gently kissing her lips.

He could feel his release coming as well, “Seems as though I’m not far from mine…Fuck.”

She gasped, that was the first time she ever heard him curse. Y/n cupped his face with her little hands, “I want to see the face you make.”

Alastor chuckled, his breath heavy. He put his forehead to hers. His movements became sloppier as he was chasing his own high now.

Just a few more short thrusts and he came in his pants. His eyes nearly rolled back, face flushed and mouth agape.

They panted together, faces covered in sweat. She smiled up at him and he smiled down at her.

He’s so pretty.

She’s so pretty.

Alastor gave her a tender kiss on her forehead, brushing her hair out her face.

He got off of her and picked up the nightgown, “Arms up.”

She giggled and raised her arms. He pulled the nightgown over her head, helping her get dressed. He took a pause for a second as he looked down at her stomach.

How on earth did I miss that!?

“What happened here, Sweetheart?” He asked in a concerned tone, running his finger gently over the scar on her stomach.

“What happened to your back? I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.”

Taglist 🏷️: @chibistar45 @ghostofajinx @girl-math-aint-mathing @91062854-ka @harmfulb1tch @2dmenforme @ladyadrasteia666 @uniquecutie-puffs @vxllys @wendds @alastorsgirl48 @xghostnuggsx @alastorthirsty @boldlyenchantingfox22

[seventies-arcana]

PAC: you're someone's muse; this is how they'd describe you

good evening lovies, i hope tonights super moon is treating you well. in this pac reading, you will find out how someone would describe you if you were their muse. this reading is purely for entertainment and enjoyment purposes.

ask upon your guides/higher self to help guide you to whichever pile/photo you should pick, then read the corresponding message. images are not mine

pick a picture to begin✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

pile one (the field): pleasing + give way

you are such a pleasing and enjoyable person to spend time with. the things you are able to do, no matter how minuscule you might find them to be, are awe-striking. there's a passion behind your eyes that adds to the radiance that surrounds you. with this, you are very attentive. you remember things people say which makes others feel seen in a way they've never felt before. you're down for whatever in the best way possible and it makes you someone that could only ever be described as fun to be around. you're adventurous at heart and consider home to be wherever your loved ones are. this makes people feel safe around you. the smell of late summer, campfires and sunflowers is something to be associated with you. you're a breath of fresh air.

pile two (the clementine): care + apple of the eye

oh, you are just so sweet. so kindhearted. you care for people so deeply and love so wholeheartedly. you make people see their insecurities as something to find beautiful. your hugs make people feel protected, it is easy to fall asleep when wrapped up in your arms. your eyes are mesmerizing, so easy to get lost in. one moment, they are doe-like, the next, the exact opposite. it's the way you flirt with your eyes that makes others feel so weak in the knees. but this doesn't make you cheeky. in fact, you are loyal and committed to the one you love. because when you love, you love intensely. you are a romantic at heart. your energy is reminiscent of candle lit homemade dinners that begin a night of endless cuddles. of fresh florals and luscious baths. you are a place of comfort.

pile three (the cat): challenge + puppy energy

you will never lower your standards or settle for someone who isn't what you want, and that is just so attractive. you know what type of relationships you want and that adds to your appeal. not just anyone can be the reciprocator of your divine affection. you speak to people once and they cant help but want to learn more about you. you're siren-like without even intending to be. once you truly let someone into your heart, you become such a lovable softie. you are so sweet and wholesome when you love, no one would ever guess it. your reminiscent of fresh linen blankets in perfectly cool rooms. your touch is soft and soothing. when you smile, genuinely smile, it brightens the mood of anyone around to see it. to be able to receive the love you give is one in a million. you are unlike anyone else.

pile four (the beach): no judgements + new perspectives

you are the model example of how everyone should be. you are accepting of people, no matter their status, and care deeply for those who may have been overlooked by others. you treat people however they treat you. you know your worth and will never let someone tarnish it. you are unapologetically yourself and that is something so rare to find, it makes others captivated by you. nonetheless, you are mysterious. you savor some aspects of yourself and only show them to the people you love. these aspects of you are the most rewarding thing to experience. every now and then, you can be mischievous. but it is all in good fun. you are filled with surprises and each one of them adds to your allure. you remind others of violets and nights spent walking along the coastline. you are utterly captivating.

please like, follow, and reblog! i appreciate it a lot :)

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Part 5 of Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Sorry guys this turned out crappy, I'm really unhappy with this one but I hope the next part will be better again. Finally we get to see readers perspective on things. Also name reveal of readers dog, finally. < Part 4 | COD Masterlist | Part 6 >

So there’s this new butcher. He’s kind of intimidating but he’s nice. At least you’re pretty sure he’s nice. He rarely speaks but the meat at that shop is the best so you power through the anxiety the big man induces (the first time you caught a glimpse of him you had to hide and gather your nerves before going inside).

God, he’s big. Built like a brick shithouse he looms over you even behind the counter. The fact that Wraith has to wait outside the shop makes you wring your fingers nervously on the regular. You’re happy that Simon, that’s what his name tag said, never gives off creep vibes.

Still, stepping into the shop always makes you want to curl in on yourself. Somehow the butcher has a way of taking up the entire room with his presence. The way he stands and moves makes you think he somehow got dominance drilled into his genes. Maybe if you go in often enough some of that will rub off on you, god knows you’d enjoy being a bit intimidating.

When he allows you to bring in Wraith with you, you reconsider. Simon isn’t just nice. He’s kind.

Sure he’s quiet and big and he could snap your neck with one hand (don’t think about that, don’t think about that) but he’s considerate. The consideration he showed for you also proved that he is scarily observant and you’re not sure you like that.

You hate being observed or looked at. You’d prefer to be a ghost, existing in the world but not being perceived. But since you don’t plan on dying anytime soon you got yourself your own personal bodyguard.

Wraith is the sweetest soul on earth and you’re not sure what you did to find him. He saved you in more ways than one and it seems you saved the scarred and tired dog too.

Being allowed to bring him into the shop with you helps a lot. As big and scary as the butcher is, Wraith could do serious damage to him if he so much as raised a hand against you.

So you’re pretty confident nowadays when you go to buy Wraith’s treats. Over time Simon has grown to be a new part of your routine and you don’t mind him anymore. He might be a goddamn intense man but he’s proven himself to be nice (you just pray that your intuition isn’t wrong with him).

You’d even say you’re more or less comfortable around him by now so when you walk in one day and hear one of your favorite songs play you can’t contain yourself. Maybe you’re making a fool of yourself in front of the butcher but the way he chuckles immediately soothes you. He doesn’t seem to judge you at all.

Still you’d be mortified by yourself (you can’t remember the last time you were yourself that much anywhere besides your own four walls) if Simon didn’t smile at you behind his mask and oh... His eyes are kind and sparkle lively with mirth; you’ve never seen him have an expression like that before.

Suddenly you realize how hidden the man keeps himself. Always behind a mask never any unnecessary movements, always controlled. To see his eyes so expressive is kind of a shock. But it’s a good shock, you decide.

It’s the first real conversation you have with him and it’s about music. That immediately makes you warm up to him even more. So much so, that you end up admitting that you don’t want to go to a concert alone.

You’ve barely recovered from making a fool of yourself and having the first real conversation with the butcher, when he pulls the rug out from under your feet:

”I’m planning on going to that concert, wanna join me? I’ll make sure you’re safe, sweetheart.”

[hunterwritings]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 | 𝐛𝐢-𝐡𝐚𝐧, 𝐤𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬, 𝐬𝐲𝐳𝐨𝐭𝐡

summary: "Ayoo!! May I request for headcanons on the Lin Kuei Trio and Syzoth (need to give that lizard some love) on how they’d react to being jealous? Like their s/o is getting flirted on by someone stuff like that?" | requested here warnings: creepy men, mention of violence, blood, etc., suggestive, implied smut notes: why do i write better in the middle of the night | there might be spelling mistakes

↳ 𝐁𝐢-𝐡𝐚𝐧

oh this man will get violent

out of the four, bi-han holds the most jealousy over his partner and can sometimes be possessive

he knows you can hold your own, your his partner after all, but every time he sees someone trying to take your as theirs, it sets off something in him

"You are one of the most beautiful warriors I've ever seen." The man pressed as he leaned over the table in the dining area of the temple. You just nodded as you tried to subtly tell this man off. Your eyes scanned the room to see if there was anyone too help you, then you noticed your husband staring from across the room, you cold practically feel icy blades digging into this man's head. He crossed his arms tightly as his gaze never left you.

You have taught Bi-han to try and not resort to violence where it is unnecessary, so in most situations, he will walk up to you and snake his arm around your waist as his eyes beam into the person in front of you.

Now, if someone had done anything to make you uncomfortable? Then blood is being drawn.

This man will beat down whoever dares to make his partner uncomfortable in anyway, not stopping until various bones are broken or until you command him

Whenever you two are out, he now will instinctively wrap his arm around you whenever he feels someone staring and will follow their gaze every second. He's not ashamed to stare, he thinks of it as a power move to make them uncomfortable. But if he had it his way, he'd beat down every person that tried to take you as their own until they are nothing but a pile of blood and guts.

You would reassure him that you were his as you kissed his neck and whispered in his ear. He would take the opportunity to fuck you any way you wished as you'd tell him that he was the only one for you.

↳ 𝐊𝐮𝐚𝐢 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠

although he has his hot nature, Kuai Liang isn't as easy to be jealous

he is very secure and knows that you are bound to him when you agreed to spend the rest of your life with him

even though it can be rare, there are still moments when Kuai Liang can get jealous

If he happens to see someone spending a lot of time with you and become increasingly closer to you, he can feel that pit of jealousy build in his stomach. He knows it's wrong to feel this way and knows that you would never leave him, but he can't help himself.

His jealousy wouldn't be something he would express outwards unless he felt he had to to get someone away from you.

Kuai Liang's eyes pierced you as you spoke with another Lin Kuei member. He had gone on about fighting techniques and how he thought you were a great fighter and asked if you could teach him some moves, to which you politely declined. As you felt eyes on you, you turned your head to see Kuai Liang staring through your soul. As your eyes met his, he looked down and away, as if he had gotten caught. After the training regime, you confronted Kuai Liang as the two to you returned to your shared bedroom. "What was that?' You ask as you stand on the opposite side of the bed as him. "What was what?' He tries to seem clueless but can't help but avoid your glare. "Kuai Liang." You spoke his name and he knew well enough to look up at you, your arms crossed over your chest. "He's just very talkative with you, it's obvious to everyone else." He explains. "Is that jealousy?" You rhetorically ask as you walk over to him. "You have nothing to fear, my love. I have no interest in him." You speak as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. "I know." He says softly. You pressed your lips against his before pulling him back onto the bed. If he was so worried, then you were going to prove that you truly belonged to him.

↳ 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬

Tomas is also quick to be jealous, but unlike Bi-han, he will not address the situations through violence

Tomas has much faith in you and hates the fact that he has the thought of someone else making you more happy than him. When he sees another man making you laugh or impressed, it makes him feel bad about himself. He will go out of his way to do something impressive in front of both you and your admirer as a way of showing them that you liked him more.

You stood at the edge of the training arena as you watched your husband, Tomas, demonstrating his skills on a test dummy. Your smiled as you watched him hit and slice at the dummy, seeing all the younger initiates at your sides as they watched him.

"Any one of us could do something like that. Put me in there and I'll show you a real man." One of the other Lin Kuei members had leaned down and spoke to you with a large smile on his face. "Excuse me?" You say, a bit taken aback. "I just don't understand why this guy is praised for something everyone else can do." He adds. You turn to see Tomas glaring at the man next to you, he never heard him speak but somehow he was still fully understanding of what he was saying. Toomas grunts before turning back to the dummy and cutting it clean in half using his karambit. Then, he tightly grabs ahold of the dummy and turns to fling it in the air, launching it over 100 feet. As it flies through the air, Tomas grabs a large boulder and spins around to launch the boulder into the air, using both his strength and smoke to guide it to hit the dummy mid-air, smashing it to bits. The younger children around stared in awe as they talked amongst themselves. "I doubt it will be easy to do better than that." Tomas bites as he walks back over to you. The man scoffs before walking away. "That was quite a show." You smiled as he rested his hands on your hips. "It looked like he was getting top comfortable." He smirked before leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

↳ 𝐒𝐲𝐳𝐨𝐭𝐡

Syzoth isn't an inherently jealous person, but he can find himself being jealous and almost possessive of you at times

With everything he had lost from Shang Tsung, he is very protective of his partner and wouldn't let anyone get a chance to steal you from him.

If someone were to approach you and flirt with you, he would be open about his feelings. He would stand close to your side and let them know at the first given moment that the two of you are betrothed.

A man began to approach you as you were standing outside of Empress Sindel's castle, waiting to hear about certain arrangements. "Well look at you, just waiting to be swept off of your feet by someone like me." The man shot you a wanting smile as your face contorted in disgust. Before you could even protest, Syzoth was at your side, standing slightly in front of you. "They do not need anything like that, we are already happily vowed to each other." Syzoth explains, taking in pride in your relationship as he holds your waist tightly. "Exactly." You add on with a proud smile. The man rolls his eyes before grunting and waking away, Syzoth's eyes following him as he walked away. "I didn't know you were a jealous Zaterran" You smile as you held the side of his face, he brought his hand to lie over yours. "I will not lose what is mine." He shakes his head as he looks up to you with a smile before pressing his lips on yours, holding the crook of your back to pull you closer into him.

Sometimes, if people really get on his nerve, he will go into his Zaterran form to intimidate people.

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Cabin - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

A/N: Written for this request. I hope I did it okay. I left a lot of things vague, but I didn't wanna make up a situation for this one. Also, if anyone saw this post early, no you didn’t

I hope Logan doesn't come off as too ooc. Writing him getting angry around Reader didn't feel right for the request, so l wrote it like this instead

CW: crying, unsafe driving (due to crying), family fights, Reader has a toxic mother, I think this counts as hurt/comfort?, more crying, quiet comfort, cuddling, kissing, hugging, Logan's more of an actions guy than a words guy, hopeful ending sorta?, ooc Logan

672 words

You were crying while driving. It’s a little bit disheartening; how well you know this road by now. How easily you can navigate it, even with your tear-blurred vision.

But you don’t stop. You can’t. Where else do you go?

It’s not the first time you’ve driven up this road after a fight with your mother. But this time was different.

You’d finally gotten the courage to come out to her. To set her straight about who you really are. And of course, everything had fallen apart the moment you’d spoken the words, “I’m trans.”

Hell hath no fury like your mother. Even now, you flinch at the memory. You push it out of your mind forcefully. The last thing you want is to start bawling and have to pull over.

Pulling over means stopping. And stopping means facing the fact that you have four boxes in the back of your car, filled with everything she let you take.

All too soon, you’re arriving at your destination. Logan’s house. It’s small. Tucked away in the mountains. Cozy, with a beautiful view.

It’s become your safe place. The one place your mother’s too scared to venture. It’s home.

And now it may really become your home.

You take the time to clean your face up. Making it look a little less like you’ve been crying. He’ll be able to tell; you already know. But it helps you focus on something.

Finally, you exit your car. You leave the boxes in the back, taking only yourself as you walk up to the front door. His truck is in the driveway, so you open the door without knocking.

“Logan?”

“In the living room.” His voice is gruff and immediately soothing. Just the sound has a weight lifting off your shoulders.

You go further in, toeing off your shoes at the doorway.

He’s lounging in the living room, comfortably sprawled on the couch. He’s reading a book, though he puts it down once you enter. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Something breaks in your chest at his question. Your heart, maybe. Tears spring to your eyes and your voice comes out shaky. “I got kicked out.”

Logan sits up, beckoning you to come closer. “Come here. Tell me what happened.”

You make it into the safety of his arms before everything spills out with a sob. And oh, you tell him everything.

You can feel him tense as you speak, but he never gets angry. He never says anything. He just holds you.

Once you’re all done, he rubs your back. Quietly soothing you into soft hiccups of breath. Your tears have all dried up, leaving your eyes itchy and sore. You feel like shit, except for the fact that you're with him.

“Say something?” You whisper.

He rumbles out a sigh. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need. A place to stay, a voice against her. I’ll do whatever it is you want me to.”

You think about what you want. What you need. “I want to stay here. Will you help me get the boxes out of my car?”

He pulls you in for a gentle kiss and nods. But he hesitates before getting up. “No matter who you are, you’re always safe here. You’re always safe to be yourself.”

It’s gruffly said, but clearly heartfelt. You know he’s rarely so direct about it; preferring unspoken ways of love to words. But he’s doing it for you.

You hug him tightly, a silent appreciation of his words. He’s never been one for grandiose displays of affection or comfort. Instead, he’s your cabin in the mountains. Quiet. Steady. Always there when you need it.

It gives you hope. Confidence. Logan’s got your back. Whatever you decide to do, whatever ways you choose to continue on, he’ll go with you.

It gives you the strength to stand up, gather your shoes, and lead him out to finally face the boxes in your car.

No matter what, you’ve got Logan. And she can never take that away from you.

Logan Howlett Taglist: @yhlqmdlg @alekkkkssss

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 09

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

If that punching bag could speak, it would beg for mercy. Sweat heated my skin, and with every punch against the rubbery surface, an overstrained grunt sliced through the air.

"I think that's enough for today, Noah," someone said from a distance, but my focus was locked on the back-and-forth motion of my clenched fists, ignoring how they throbbed painfully with each strike.

This was the only way to unload everything consuming me without smashing my head into some random passerby while walking down the street.

The past few days couldn’t have been more hellish. I couldn’t write, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, and all I was left with was being forced to see that woman at every rehearsal and act like she didn’t exist.

Impossible when she was everywhere.

"I just said it seems like enough for today, Noah!" The same voice broke the short space between me and the punching bag as it pulled me away from it. "What the hell is wrong with you today? You seem like you're on another planet!"

The trainer stood in front of me, arms crossed, while I slid down the wall until I sat on the floor. My chest heaved uncontrollably as I stared at his calves through the strands of sweat-soaked hair hanging over my face.

Training at night was good; I liked the empty gym, especially when I used it as an escape.

"My head's full of crap, that's all," I spat, removing the wraps around my fists.

"Anything I can help with?"

"Only if you can hit me hard enough to induce permanent amnesia," I tried to joke, but my voice came out more morbid than anything else.

"Actually... I might be able to do that!" The tall, bald man with bulging veins on his temples shrugged. "But forgetting, even temporarily, won't make your crap disappear."

"And who said I want anything resolved? The sooner everything goes to hell, the better."

I definitely didn’t mean to be so harsh, but it came out automatically, and he should ignore it. My good moods were so rare that, to him, this probably felt like just another normal day.

"It might be a relief for a while, but the body reacts differently than your mind. Even if your mind didn’t remember anything, you'd live with the feeling that something’s missing every time it relives memories, habits, interests, and tastes," he added. "Like when you touch an object and your body reacts instantly, or when you visit a place and your insides speak for themselves."

What utter nonsense, for God’s sake.

"Got it," I said, giving him a thumbs-up with a straight smile, as if that load of crap actually made sense.

"Fine, fine, call me crazy, Mr. Know-It-All!" He rolled his eyes, turning his back. My gaze swept the room, watching as he picked up gloves and bags scattered on the floor, placing them on the shelves.

Leaving the gym, I regretted not grabbing a jacket earlier as the wind hit me on the street. Walking to the parking lot, I unlocked the car with a click, and before getting in, I heard a brief cluster of voices in the distance. Turning around, I saw a group of four girls bundled up in band hoodies, phones in hand.

I couldn’t explain why, but a discomfort seemed to envelop me as they approached, realizing I wasn’t about to flee.

“Noah, would you mind taking a picture with us?” asked the tallest girl, her short hair tucked behind her ears.

Well, maybe there was no harm in that.

“Of course! Let’s do it!” I forced a brief smile as they gathered around me.

A guy passing through the parking lot helped take the photo, and I held the smile until he finished.

“Thank you so much, Noah. I hope you’re doing okay!” said another girl with colorful streaks in her hair, stepping aside.

“I am, thanks for asking.”

I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t that I hated my fans or anything. In fact, I’d always been able to separate those who genuinely appreciated the band’s work respectfully from those who felt entitled to my personal life, as if it didn’t belong to me or as if I wasn’t an adult capable of handling my own decisions.

But I couldn’t deny that most of the time, I wished to be a voice without a face. I loved writing music, I loved singing, and I never doubted it was for me since the first time I did it. I just wasn’t so sure that back then, I’d also wanted everything that came with it.

The way I felt uneasy in most recent social interactions made it clear how I felt.

“We just wanted to let you know that no matter what happened, we’re on your side. Always!” she emphasized, and my brows furrowed as my expression darkened.

“What are you talking about?”

“It was on a news channel—speculations that the Bad Omens vocalist’s overdose was her ex-boyfriend’s fault.” The information came with a phone placed in my hand. “They dug up videos of you two arguing at the festival, and now they’re blaming you.”

“They’re piecing together moments from shows where things seemed tense and comparing how she’s been since your breakup,” added a redheaded girl, taking the phone from my hand. “But we’re rallying in your defense. We know she was always the problem, and we won’t let her fans drag your name like that.”

Every misfortune seemed to fall short of what I deserved.

“Look, I’m sure you all have better things to do than worry about this,” I assured them, stepping back closer to the car. “I don’t need lawyers for the internet court. Take care.”

With a final fake smile, my eyes narrowed as I turned my back on them and got in the car. Before starting the engine, I still caught one last complaint.

“It’s incredible how he defends that girl even in the middle of this circus. I don’t understand what the hell she has!” she fumed, stomping her feet and crossing her arms.

That was an excellent question.

I was far too focused on the traffic, humming Sicko Mode by Travis Scott, tapping my fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. I couldn’t help swaying in a little dance as if nothing was wrong. The sunlight was strong, so I pulled my sunglasses from my hair to better see the road.

For a fleeting moment of distraction, I glanced in the rearview mirror, and a chilling sensation washed over me for no reason. Behind my car, a dark-windowed SUV waited at the same red light. There was no reason for concern—I knew cars like that were common around here.

But the unease grew, gnawing at me, as I decided to test my suspicion when the light turned green. Casually, I turned the first corner to shake it off, but it didn’t take long for the driver of the SUV to appear on the narrow street, blatantly trailing me.

I pressed the gas pedal moderately, and the bastard matched my pace. He didn’t seem intent on cutting me off, maintaining a safe distance—just enough to let me know he was there, aiming to unsettle me.

I tried to keep control, ignoring my sweaty hands gripping the steering wheel, my gaze fixed on the mirror. Accelerating down the second avenue, I ran a red light, weaving through the crossing traffic to shake the pursuer, my pulse racing in rhythm with the car’s speed.

No time to think. I veered sharply into the opposite lane, narrowly avoiding a collision with another vehicle that slammed on its brakes. The blaring horn couldn’t even dampen the sinister adrenaline coursing through my veins, heating my blood alongside my labored breathing.

I yanked the wheel, swerving into the first open alley I spotted, slowing just enough to notice the SUV caught in the chaos I’d caused at the intersection, freezing the traffic behind it.

But what the hell was that?

After another meeting in the office, everyone was ready to leave. I was really determined to keep my promise when I said she had died to me yesterday.

Today, I only thought about her three thousand times.

When I passed through the door, I saw that she was right behind me, and it was incredible how every time things were tense between us, she somehow managed to look six times more stunning, as if just to provoke me.

The funniest part was that she didn’t have to try very hard to do it.

“Are you okay?” My steps instinctively halted when I heard her voice. “You seemed agitated when you got to the meeting, and…”

If I were speaking to her, I would’ve surely said that a big part of my irritation came from people spreading lies about us online again and some lunatic racing me on the road just a few minutes earlier.

“I really wanted to talk to you about something,” she insisted, gently touching my back, which I quickly pulled away from. Her fingers carried electricity, and just the slightest contact with my skin was enough to turn my brain into useless mush.

But I wasn’t about to break the silence game.

“Noah?” Gerard poked his head out of the room, interrupting the moment. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

Relieved, I exhaled deeply, keeping my back turned to her as I walked into the room. I hated the smell of cigars and strong alcohol that filled the place, and I couldn’t stop glaring disgustedly at the leather furniture, worried the scent would stick to me.

“Just seeing the number of attendees in today’s meeting told me your conversation didn’t go well, did it?”

“Did you call me here to talk about work, or are you looking to catch up on gossip? I’m sure any website could keep you more updated than I could,” I retorted as I slouched in the chair, legs spread, letting my head fall to the side.

Fortunately, I wasn’t very expressive.

“I called you because I care about you two, and of course, this news shook me—not just because it’s a sad decision coming from someone young like her…” Gerard paused dramatically, and I raised a single eyebrow. “But because I’m worried about you in all of this.”

Fascinating.

“It happened exactly as I imagined. There’s no way she could’ve handled another wave of hate after all these months being labeled as problematic. Noah, I knew she’d eventually find a way to drag you into it, to share the blame!”

“I don’t follow the news, so I’m out of the loop,” I lied shamelessly.

“So you haven’t noticed she hasn’t defended you or denied anything being said about you? Noah…” He took a deep breath, clasping his hands with a thick gold ring on his ring finger over the messy desk. “I’ve been your age, and I know what love does to people, especially when it’s one-sided.”

Nothing annoyed me more than people circling endlessly around a topic instead of just saying it outright. We weren’t at a lecture or a sermon, and outside this place, dragging things out made no sense.

It was impossible not to stare at him with more disinterest as I rested my hand on my chin.

“I know you probably think this is all nonsense, but I can’t let you forget what happened the last time an issue between you two crossed personal boundaries and hurt the band,” he stressed, drawing a line on the desk. “I took the hit, and you… well, no need to comment—just search your name online.”

“Every day revisiting the same topic. Don’t you have a new, important agenda to make my visit worthwhile?”

“This will remain the topic until you stop behaving like you’re ready to throw it all away for that disturbed girl again!” He finally bared his claws. “Are you going to tell me you didn’t, even for a second, think it was betrayal for her to throw you to the wolves and save her own skin?”

I’d reached my limit for the day, clearing my throat into my fist before standing and stretching my back. Slowly, I leaned over the desk, bringing my face close to his while locking eyes and moistening my lips with my tongue.

“Gerard, dear…” I whispered so softly it almost sounded like a song. “You can take my band, my money, my rights, my songs, even the damn socks I sell. But my personal life? That’s still none of your damn business!”

“It becomes my business when she manipulates every thought in your head and keeps you from doing your job!”

“As you’ve noticed, we’re no longer together. She made her choice yesterday, and now our relationship is purely professional. I couldn’t care less about what she does from now on, as long as it means she sings properly and does her job!” I declared. “Now, please stop bothering me with things that aren’t my responsibility or interest. I’ll keep ensuring my part is done.”

A strangely triumphant smile formed on his lips, and I watched as Gerard nodded slowly.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, giving two light pats to my cheek. “I knew I could count on you!”

Breathing outside that room again felt like being reborn, if such a thing was possible. The entire way out of the office, I tried to push his words out of my head, though they carried a shred of truth.

I couldn’t forget that when everything fell on her shoulders, I had the same reaction, if not worse, staying silent, waiting for the chaos to subside. But it never did, and now it made sense for her to use a winning hand against me.

She knew I couldn’t do anything on my own, and that gave her free rein to do whatever she wanted. But it was undeniable how bitter it tasted to feel like a stepping stone for her unstable ego.

Outside, I paused at the entrance as rain washed over the dry, empty streets of the city. It wasn’t heavy, but the few drops that hit my face were cold and powerful enough to conjure a mirage before my eyes.

Ahead on the road, there was nothing but trees past the shoulder. In the middle of the asphalt, two people—a couple—smiled as they ran, chasing each other like there was no fear of tomorrow. They danced even without music, and it seemed like the first time the boy had ever felt truly happy about something. He looked free.

Shaking my head to push away the revisited memory, I headed toward the studio, which wasn’t far. Outside, amid the laughter and the sound of guitar riffs, there she was, her voice like a spell capable of putting me in an automatic trance every time I heard it.

Passing through the gate slowly, I walked toward the back of the vast yard. She and my friends were gathered, Jolly and she doing a duet—more precisely, a cover of Decode. Even as they seemed to be having fun, she didn’t go off-key once.

The raspiness of her voice, the beginnings of delirium watching her sit there smiling between verses on a bench with the microphone in hand—it took me back to the bar’s back room, watching her sing in absolute silence. There was no technique, no production, no effect—nothing could compete with the absurd talent I desperately wished the world would know.

The same place where I first saw her and swore I’d never seen anything like it, the same place where I fell hopelessly in love with the insane woman who had a desperation for life, for proving how free she was, enough to infect me with the same poison.

I hated her.

I hated her so much.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ;

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[warnings: kissing, angst, sexual tension]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

For the last four years, all her sisters had spoken about was Prince Aemond Targaryen. She knew that he was to choose one of them, as agreed between the king and her father, Borros Baratheon − military intent for marriage seemed for him the right price. On the day when all the findings were confirmed he came to her, took her cheeks in his rough hands and began to speak.

“One of your elder sisters will marry Prince Aemond in a few years. But not you. I want you to stay with me." He said, kissing her forehead.

She didn't understand what he meant then, and she felt humiliated to think that perhaps he thought that she was missing something. Only after a few years did she realize that her father treated her differently than them.

Cassandra, Maris, Ellyn and Floris loved to sew, sing, play instruments, read poetry. They resembled her mother, whom she barely remembered.

Her father once told her that she reminded him of his younger sister, who died when he was only fifteen. Although, unlike her father, she could and liked to read, she went hunting with him as well, Borros watched from a distance as his son and heir, Royce, taught her swordsmanship and archery. Her father decided that she was of Baratheon blood, not her mother's, and that marriage would destroy her.

She accepted the idea that her father had other plans for her, watching her sisters, thinking that she was no match for them in maturity and beauty, their hips and breasts full, their curves graceful.

She, as the youngest of the siblings, was much smaller, her cleavage was not so plentiful, her hips were not so wide, she didn't seem fully female standing next to them, and she was glad that her father had let her escape this humiliation.

On the day Prince Aemond was to make his choice, a great storm broke out. She thought, as she and her brother walked out to the back of their fortress, that this was a bad omen from the gods.

They both flinched as they heard a monstrous, loud roar in the distance, they thought for a moment that a huge dark cloud was approaching them, and then they saw a huge beast appearing from the sky, circling above their stronghold. She felt her heart pounding in terror, shivers run down her spine.

"Do not think about it." Royce shouted at her, throwing his sheathed sword at her.

She grabbed it on the fly, her hair wet, strands stuck to her face; they often practiced in the rain and with how tense things were inside their castle, they both decided to run away and wait until it was all over.

She smiled at him, pale, drawing her sword. They slashed their blades again and again with a loud clang of steel, turning around, trying different positions. Their movements weren't fast or brutal, both of them practicing proper posture and stamina.

Though she knew that it wouldn't make sense in King's Landing, in Storm's End no one asked why Borros Baratheon's daughter practiced hand-to-hand combat.

It seemed obvious.

War has been in the blood of their family for generations.

It almost always rained in Storm's End, and when it didn't, it was usually cloudy, she was used to the fact that whenever she went outside she was all wet, and although her sisters rarely left the fortress for fear of getting sick, she only strengthened her immunity and such conditions did not impress her anymore.

She and her brother both flinched and backed away from each other when they heard a guard run down to them, shouting something at them, she had to listen carefully to understand what he was saying, as he repeated his words.

"Your father orders you to return to the keep immediately, my lady." He said, in the background of his words thunder and loud, rushing rain, she looked at her brother, but he just nodded for her to go.

"It's probably over." He said, obviously wanting to reassure her.

She followed the guard down the corridor, through the cold, stone walls of her keep, trying to keep her composure, feeling her heart pounding hard.

Which one did he choose?

Ellyn, she thought.

She had a charming smile and pleasant curves, bright eyes and ease of speech, she knew that Ellyn desired this marriage and she hoped that the prince would be kind to her sister once he was her husband.

She followed the guard into the great hall and saw her father sitting on the lord's throne, stroking his chin uneasily, her four sisters were scowling at her, grim, she sensed that something was wrong.

She turned her gaze a little to the side and then she saw him.

He was standing in a long, unbuttoned leather coat, resting his weight on one leg, saying something to her sister, but he turned to her when he heard her footsteps, the dagger and sword strapped to his belt.

She saw that famous scar and black eyepatch, his long, white hair partly tied back, there was something terrifying about him, she thought, in that animalistic, menacing look.

She felt the raindrops falling down her cheeks onto the floor, she had the impression that they would soon evaporate from the heat that she felt in her body, at first she didn't even hear her father speaking to her, unable to look away from his face, she turned to him when she heard him say her name.

“This is my youngest daughter, my prince. As I said, I felt that she was not properly prepared to fulfill her responsibilities as your wife." He said briefly, she heard impatience in her father's voice, but also something else.

Fear.

Prince Aemond didn't even glance at him as he spoke, he stared at her intensely, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I will decide that, Lord Baratheon. Wasn't that the deal?" He asked, and that was the first time when she heard his voice.

Cold, low, slightly taunting.

She felt her hands shaking and swallowed softly, only now feeling her throat tighten, she didn't know where to look.

She saw him avert his eye from her and walk slowly, unhurriedly toward Cassandra. She looked away immediately, red and horrified, when she saw that he had kissed her, her sister gasped.

When she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he released her without giving her a single glance and walked over to Maris.

She saw him repeat the same gesture and felt tears well up in her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling of the great hall that she was standing in, where she had played all her childhood and prayed to the gods that he wouldn't do this to her.

When she heard him walking slowly towards her she didn't look at him, felt his large, cold hand grab her cheeks, forcing her to turn her face towards him. Involuntarily she drew a shuddering breath into her lungs, letting out a soft sigh, her eyes looking pleadingly at him, her mouth slightly parted in shock and fear.

His face showed absolutely nothing.

She felt him move closer to her, but hesitated for a second as she shivered all over, felt his small gesture, how quickly, almost imperceptibly his thumb squeezed and wiped her cheek, as if to soothe her, comfort her.

She looked at him again then and his lips were on hers, pressed against hers in a sticky, warm kiss, she closed her eyes and thought that it wasn't unpleasant, he smelled like smoke and rain.

She didn't purse her lips against him, but she didn't kiss him back either, she thought that he was about to break away from her as he had from her sisters, and she waited patiently, knowing that the end would come soon.

She stifled a guttural groan as his hand closed over her cheeks and he kissed her deeper, more hungrily, sending shivers down her spine.

Involuntarily she put a hand on his shoulder, as if she was both looking for support and wanting to push him away, she flinched as he let out an almost inaudible grunt when she touched him.

He pulled away from her with a wet click and she looked down, red with embarrassment. He didn't let go of her cheeks and was silent for a moment.

"Her." He said suddenly, her heart stopped.

She looked at her father in horror, but she couldn't get the words out of her throat, she heard Ellyn sob loudly, burying her face in her hands.

She thought that it was impossible.

Her father seemed as shocked as she was.

"…as I was saying, my prince…" He began, but Prince Aemond let go of her face, turning tensely as he walked slowly towards the entrance, without glancing at her once more.

"I have decided." He said loudly, coldly, leaving through the main door, outside the windows they heard a loud thunder, which shook the fortress.

She heard her heart pounding loudly, didn't even know when tears were streaming down her face as she slid helplessly to her knees, trying to catch her breath.

She heard her sisters sobbing, Cassandra came over to her, pushing her angrily so that she collapsed on the stone floor.

"How dare you touch him?! He's a prince!” She screamed, possessed by humiliation and pain.

"Enough!" Their father shouted, rising from his throne, running his hand across his face.

"All of you, go to your chambers. Now!" He shouted impatiently, dismissing them with his hand.

She stood up, but she felt her body moving on its own, her mind leaving her loins and drifting away, as she walked down the corridor she met her brother who was speaking to her, apparently asking her a question, but she moved past him, heading for her chamber, closing the door behind her. She slid down, sitting on the floor and pulled her knees up to her chin.

She felt her whole body tremble in convulsions as if she had a fever, she tried to tell herself that it was all a dream, but then she felt his fleshy, full lips on hers again, his hand cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing over her face imperceptibly.

Her stomach tightened at the thought, terrified that she liked this feeling.

They had all been humiliated by him, but especially her sisters.

She thought that they would never forgive her.

They'd wasted years of their lives, preparing to be married to the man who stole their first kisses and then chose their sister who wasn't even considered.

She wondered why he did it? What drove him?

She wasn't even wearing a gown, didn't have her hair combed, didn't look like a woman, a highborn lady.

She thought that he was mocking them and her, that it was his cruel joke, a punishment for the king and queen for forcing him to marry against his will.

Her sisters pretended that she didn't exist for the next few days, when she came to join them during supper, they got up from the table and left.

Her brother comforted her by saying that they were taking it out on her for their misfortune, but she didn't feel better.

All nights since he chose her she cried, burying her face in the pillow.

Her father had no words of comfort for her either. Even though she knew he wanted to, he couldn't keep his promise to refuse him. He hadn't expected this turn of events and was furious, but breaking the agreement with the crown was out of the question.

She wouldn't even dare to ask him to do it.

The prospect of marriage and wedding night left her in a state of constant shock, she knew nothing about these things, and her sisters wouldn't tell her even if she wanted to, her mother was dead and she couldn't ask anyone what it looked like, what she should do, how to behave.

She thought that it would all be a series of endless humiliation.

After a few weeks, Lord Baratheon received a letter from the queen, informing him of the expected date of the nuptials. She was to arrive in King's Landing in the next few days, to properly prepare for the ceremony and acclimate.

She wanted to vomit at the thought.

Her father then hugged her tightly as he had when she was a small child.

He was a big, aggressive, sometimes even boorish man, but she had never known another lord who loved his children so dearily.

"You are of House Baratheon. Nobody will break you." He said, taking her face in his hands and kissing the top of her head, she pursed her lips at his words, not letting tears leave the corners of her eyes until she heard him disappear behind the door.

The night before she left for the Red Keep she couldn't sleep. Her sisters still didn't speak to her, but she and Cassandra always had the closest and warmest relationship. She needed the advice and comfort of another woman.

She took her candle in her hand and walked down the corridor towards her chamber. She opened the door, peering inside timidly, her sister frowned at her, confused.

"What is it?" She asked coldly.

She swallowed softly at the tone of her voice and closed the door behind her, walking slowly to her bed, sitting on the edge of it without looking at her. There was silence between them for a moment.

"I'm scared." She said, her lips quivering hard, her eyes were already red from crying, but she felt tears welling up again under her eyelids, heard her eldest sister shift uneasily under her covers.

"Please, tell me what to expect." She whispered, looking at her pleadingly, her sister stared at her dispassionately.

"Pain."

She swallowed softly, terrified, the way she said the word sent shivers down her spine.

"What do you mean?" She asked softly, her voice trembling at the very end of the question, betraying her desperation and fear.

Cassandra looked at her for a long time before answering.

“You have a duty to fulfill. You must give the prince an heir. This is your only task. Do you know how this act looks like?" She asked, and her younger sister shook her head quickly, looking down in embarrassment.

“The man lies on top of you, between your thighs. He inserts a part of his body into you, from which fluid will flow out, thanks to which you will be able to bear his child. With any luck, he won't tear you apart from the inside." She said indifferently, her face proud, her eyes cold.

She swallowed hard, feeling her whole body tremble, what she was saying sounded terrifying, foreign and painful, she couldn't imagine anyone putting anything inside her body. She clenched her hands on her knees.

"Does it hurt a lot?" She mumbled, feeling herself shiver all over, her sister exhaled loudly through her nose.

"They say the pain is indescribable."

She nodded, swallowing softly, thinking that perhaps this would be some kind of punishment for taking away from her sisters what they wanted.

She decided that she would accept what was about to happen with the greatest dignity as she left her chamber without a word.

That night she did not fall sleep.

The next morning everything was ready and her ship was waiting to take her to King's Landing. She threw herself into her brother's arms, for the first time in her life she saw him cry.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered into her ear, squeezing her tightly, his stubble scratching her cheeks pleasantly as usual, she stroked his hair, closing her eyes.

"Don't worry." She whispered, breaking away from him.

Then her father approached her, also unable to refrain from an affectionate gesture, he kissed her cheek and pulled away from her, pressing his lips together.

She knew that if he could, he would have kept her.

She looked at her sisters who were standing in the distance, only Ellyn rushed to her, bursting into sobs and hugged her tightly. She embraced her, and walked up the long plank, to the deck of her ship.

The journey wasn’t long, but it still felt like an eternity for her. She felt great tension, terror and fear, Cassandra’s words rang in her ears, filling her with anxiety.

When they finally arrived, a man who looked like a knight was waiting for her, she recognized him as Ser Criston Cole, she had seen him fight in royal tournaments more than once. He bowed to her, giving her a calm, gentle smile.

"My lady. Welcome to King's Landing."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses

[sports-on-sundays]

I saw that youre requests were open and that you’re willing to write for Hector Fort! Could you do one where it’s sort of enemies to lovers type vibe and your Marc Guiu’s sister so him and the whole team can see that there’s a lot more going on between you and hector and other feelings than just hate and when he finally realised his feelings it’s all cutesy. xx

love to hate you / Héctor Fort

Summary: Héctor x female!Guiu!reader - You and Héctor have feelings for each other. You both assume those feelings are hate.

Warnings: censored cussing, teasing that feels straight out of an 80's high school movie or something (I don't watch those; I'm just guessing how they would be)

Requested?: Indeed.

Author's Note: Thanks for requesting.💖 I hope you like it.

"You're bad," you say with a smirk as Héctor Fort walks past you, staring straight ahead, clearly trying to avoid meeting your eyes.

His jaw clenches, and you comment after him, following him down the steps off the training field, "Marc is so much better than you."

"Leave me alone!" he suddenly snaps, suddenly swiveling on his heel to face you. You stop walking abruptly, as to not completely run into him. You falter, than take a step back at how close he is. He continues, "You're so annoying. Like a fly, buzzing in my ear."

"I just like to see your dumb reactions," you taunt, but somewhere deeper within you, you don't like the way he speaks about you so off-handedly, so unimportant.

"Why do you care so much?" he snorts, but you decide to take it as a rhetoric question.

You're about to fire some lame comeback off from the top of your head, when suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder, and your brother, Marc, appears beside you, but he's looking at Héctor. "Are you two bothering each other again?"

"She's bothering me!" Héctor snaps.

"Your very presence bothers me!"

"Hey, hey," Marc says in a soothing tone. "Calm down. My God. Listen, Y/n, I'll meet you by the car in a few minutes. Leave Héctor alone."

You cross your arms. "You talk as though he's so innocent! It's not like I jab him for no reason-"

"Y/n! Stop!" Marc complains, gently shoving you down the hall, toward the exit. "I'll be at the car in a bit."

You roll your eyes, sigh, but nod, stalking off.

When Marc gets to the car and sits down next to him, he demands, "Why do you and Héctor hate each other? What is it?"

"He's annoying," you claim.

"That's it? I mean, you guys waste so much time with each other..."

You keep your head high and claim, "I take every opportunity I can to get under his skin."

Marc just sighs, turns the key in his car, and shakes his head, apparently too defeated to try to respond. You don't care.

You love to hate Héctor.

"Get out of my way," Héctor's annoying voice snaps behind you, gently shoving you in the back. "You walk so f*cking slow."

You turn around to retort, "I can walk as fast as I want, and it's too bad if you don't like it!"

"That's a lot coming from someone who is, like, four feet tall," I comments with a smirk, giving you a hard pat on the head.

"Shut up!"

"What's that? Didn't hear you down there. Wanna repeat?" he scoffs, his smirk growing.

"I'm not too short to punch you in the face, if I so desire!" you fire back, glaring at the taller individual.

"Oh, right. I'd like to see you try," he says, shoving past you as he saunters off.

"You really think you're so hot and sexy and cool, don't you? Give me a break!" you call in anger after him.

Suddenly Fermín López slips past you with an (much more polite than Héctor's 'Get out of my way,'), "Excuse me."

You nod, quickly stepping out of the way to let him through, but a little amused smile appears on his face as he gives you a very light, playful shove, "Hot, sexy, and cool?"

You like Fermín, and you know he's just teasing, but it's rare you can be lighthearted concerning Héctor. Your jaw clenches as you blurt, "Everyone knows what I meant!"

But Fermín waves his hand as he walks off, shaking his head, and says simply, "Do we?"

That's a question you should give more thought to, but instead you call, "Yes, Fermín, we do!"

Strange things come from eavesdropping on long phone conversations.

Even though you're staying over, you know Marc thinks you can't hear him talking with one of his teammates... you're not sure which one, but you know it's not, at least, Héctor Fort.

You know that because of the comment from Marc that made your ears perk up in the first place.

"Yeah, I mean, but, this is obvious, is it not? Héctor and Y/n- it's like they feed off each other's attention. It's clear they're obsessed with each other, and neither of them just want to admit it. Or, at least, I'm sure Héctor is."

You continue listening to the conversation, but only manage to hear Marc's half of it, through the door. After a pause, he continues, "Do you see how he looks at her?... Exactly! I don't know what to think about it, because Héctor's a good friend of mine. I literally asked him about it, and he like looked all grumpy and snapped way too angrily about how he hates Y/n and she's so annoying... Yeah. They give so much attention to each other. I'm starting to think Y/n cares more about getting Héctor's attention than she does actually following me around everywhere. She gives more time to him than me. Not that I care, but it's funny... Right... Hah, you want to do that?... Yeah, right. I mean, if they really do feel that way about each other, at some point, it'll just come out, and someone will realize and confess. I don't think they're that unaware- they just don't want to admit it... Oh, alright. See you tomorrow... Bye."

Your fists clenches. You heart pounds. Your head spins.

Is it really so obvious that you and Héctor like each other, when to both of you, it seems so ridiculously obvious you hate each other?

Or at least you think you hate each other.

Right?

"If you two keep this up, I'm going to confiscate your coming-to-football-training privileges, Y/n," Marc comments as he sees you and Hector in another argument, on the sidelines of the training pitch. He's crossing his arms, but smirking teasingly. "I mean, I know you two just can't get enough of each other, but really. It's getting to be a bit much."

He reaches you two, and gently shoves Héctor out of his way, teasingly, with a little grin. Héctor complains, "Marc!" but stumbles right into you. You, too, dodder back from Hector, almost slip on the grass, but feel a hand on your wrist before you can actually fall. You're expecting Marc, and don't mind him helping you straighten yourself, but when you look up and see the greyish brown eyes of Héctor Fort looking back at you, and his hand holding your wrist, you tear it away and snap, "Héctor!" instead.

Marc snorts, and as Lamine walks over, joining Marc, he comments, "You two are helplessly in love!"

"Oh, give me a break!" you say, feeling overly upset, indignant, and embarrassed at this teasing. "Even he thinks so?"

Marc shrugs, always being the type of older brother to take any and all opportunities to tease you. "Y/n, do you realize that whenever we tease you guys about this, Héctor never seems to say anything, let alone object?"

You see Marc's and Héctor's eyes lock for a second, and Héctor turns a deep shade of red as he comment, "Ah, Marc... Don't... Don't even say that... I, uh, should get back to training-" And just like that, he's off.

You look to Marc, who shrugs. Both him and Lamine are grinning stupidly. "Just saying," Marc teases, and then walks off with Lamine.

And you're left with that to occupy your thoughts.

After about a month of deciding to avoid following Marc around to football training, because of all the weird rumors about you and Héctor, your heart aches in longing, but you'll never admit to yourself that it's longing for Héctor himself.

You'll never admit you're actually missing him.

But today, you've had enough. You want to see him again, and, clearly, that's because you think he must be deprived of the misery and making fun of that you like to invoke on him weekly.

You just keep telling yourself you might just love to hate him slightly too much.

"Oh, look who's back! Why haven't you been at training for so long?" Héctor speaks mockingly, but there's a big grin on his face to see you.

You take it as a taunting one, and answer back, "Because I'm sick of seeing your handsome f*cking face!" You're not quite sure why the word 'handsome' slipped out of your lips with the insult, but you don't bother with it.

But he does. "Handsome? First right thing you've ever said in your life."

You snort and say, "If I'm such a nuisance, then why the hell do you bother with me? Is it because I'm not so bad myself?" If this is flirting, you ignore that, because it makes more sense for it to be teasing.

"Well!" he grins wider with a chuckle, his brown eyes sparkling. "It's not my fault that the cutest girl I've ever see just has to be also the most annoying girl I've ever met, is it?"

"Cute?!" you hoot. "What on earth would make you say that?!"

You watch as Héctor gives a very quick glance around, seeing that all his teammates must've hit the locker room by now, considering the hallway is empty.

Except for you and him, of course.

"I don't know... It just dawned on me..." Suddenly his eyes soften, and he looks down into yours. Your whole body tenses when his hand slips to your waist, just holding it gently. He smirks a little, but his eyes remain tentative, and perhaps even a little unsure. "Maybe sassy girls like you are my type."

Your jaw clenches as every single little tease from Héctor zooms through your mind at lightning speed, and then all the little teases from everyone else, about how you're so into to each other. About how you're hiding emotions. All those things you've been brushing off-

Clearly Héctor has decided there's no reason to brush those off now.

You feel your face heat a little. "Why?" you blurt. "Don't you hate me?"

"Hate you? No," he responds, his eyes searching yours for... something. "No, I don't hate you. If I hate anything, it's the fact that I love you."

Your jaw drops. You heart pounds in your ears.

"I think it just... I saw you, after not seeing you for a while, and it clicked in my brain," he continues.

"O- Oh..." you stutter, before blurting again, without any thought, "Well, I love to hate you."

His eyes freeze. Stop searching. His hand leaves your waist, but it doesn't feel right. It feels like his hand slipping away, like that's taking a part of you away with him. "Oh, alright. If you want it to be that way, that's fine, too." But disappointment, and confusion floods his being. He turns on his heel, about to walk away, leave you there, after all that, accepting your foolish proclamation in resignation.

"But, uh, wait, Héctor-!" you suddenly call, rushing after him. You grab his wrist. Slip it down to hold his hand. He turns to face you, staring down at you. You blush deeply at the intense eye contact, before saying softly, with an embarrassed, shuttering breath, "But maybe I would love to love you even more."

You glance away from his eyes, feeling the intensity from them far too strongly as he breathes, "Wait, really?"

"Yeah, maybe..." you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

He beams so brightly, his cheeks all pink. "This is such on a whim, but I feel like there's so much we've been denying."

Sounds just like something Marc would say to me teasingly, about Héctor.

But you smile a little back.

"So, what, now you're going to be all shy?" he teases softly, his hand gently rubbing yours. "Come on, now. I know you can be all cheeky. You're going to be shy now?" But he doesn't seem to mind, as he reaches up to gently tilt your chin, so you're forced to look at him.

"Ah, stop, Héctor..." you chuckle nervously, as butterflies begin to swarm in your stomach.

"Ah, I see," he grins, apparently not intending to stop at all. "You're all tough when you get to be petty, but as soon as I do something really relational, you get all embarrassed!"

"Oh, stop!" you giggle, clutching his hand more, your feet involuntarily stepping closer to him.

"Why should I? You're kind of cute."

"Because I say so!" you grin, looking up at him with shining eyes.

"Mmm, yeah. And you know I have to listen to everything you say, huh?"

"Yeah, because-"

"Oh, stop talking, or else the moment will pass!" he suddenly interrupts. You eyebrows crease together, but immediately you understand as he leans down-

And gently pecks your lips, before pulling away, his face red.

But you cry, indignant, "Oh, come on! Not something at least a little bit more grand?!"

He opens his mouth to speak, but you stand up on your tip toes, wrapping your arms around him, and kiss him before he can get out whatever words he was going to.

And yours is a real kiss.

When you finally, in sync, pull away from each other, he murmurs, "Oh, God. Didn't I tell you I think you're cute because you're sassy?"

"Because you're into that?" you tease softly, but are still blushing deeply at the kiss.

"Yes, exactly," he grins. "Because I'm into you."

[yallthemwitches]

Talk to Me

When Lily and her boyfriend have a public breakup, James suspects he is to blame.

Pre-dating Jily angst-ish fluff ft. good guy Sirius for @jilytoberfest Day 9, Prompt: " You Literally Checked your phone 3 seconds ago"

....look at me finding any way possible to NOT write an AU fic.

AO3 Link Here

“Prongs—just give it back.” Sirius leaned on the edge of James’ four poster bed, cigarette dripping ash from his mouth, hand outstretched and grasping. 

“Not yet—she might still–”

“She’d be calling for me remember—or Moony I guess, but c’mon mate. I’m going nutter just watching you.”

James stared up at the canopy of his four-poster bed, hand gripping around the handle of the two way mirror. He flipped it up to his face for what had to have been the hundredth time in an hour, seeing only his reflection glare back. 

“I’ll give it to you if you tell me what happened.” Out of the corner of his eye he watched Sirius snub out his cigarette on the bedpost, hair shrouding any emotion on his face.

“I’ve told you, she didn’t want to get you involved—”

“Bollocks. Apparently I already was involved.” He sat up, leaning on his arms. Sirius glared back at him, two equally stubborn boys at an impasse. 

“They had a row. Sparrow went mental, threw his butterbeer, and Rosmerta kicked him out.”

“I’ve heard.”

“--And I assume they are broken up. At least Moony heard her say something along those lines while I helped Rosmerta and the other Hufflepuffs get him the fuck out.”

“Ok, fine. So then why were they rowing?”

This was the vital piece of information that everyone was withholding. Peter, Remus… even Marlene remained tight lipped, offering a simple shrug as he had cornered her earlier in the main hall. 

“They were rowing about me—weren’t they.”

Sirius snorted, but James could tell it was forced, a weak performance at best. 

“Don’t start being arrogant again.”

“I’m not, I’m just saying what seems to be the only conclusion.”

James flipped the mirror up to his face again. Every flash of his reflection felt more and more grotesque, like the anticipation and confusion was twisting his soul into a tight ball. 

“Can you quit it—I highly doubt she’s gonna call anyways. I just gave her the mirror in case Sparrow decided to do something even more stupid on her way back.”

 James could feel anger rising .“So why didn’t you walk her then.”

“Because she didn’t bloody want me to and she already had one arsehole bloke overstepping his boundaries to deal with, alright? Merlin for fucks sake.”

Sirius threw his arms up, a rare action of exasperation. He kicked some of the records laying on the ground out of his way and threw himself onto his bed face first. 

James softened, sitting up to look at his mate. “Pads, fuck mate I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be taking this out on you—I’m just—if I had just been there and not at bloody quidditch practice—”

“Then it probably would have gone a lot worse.” Sirius’ voice muffled through the fabric of his pillow. 

A sting of pain shot through him.  “What do you mean by that?”

A knock echoed through the dorm, the knob turned and a vibrant green eye peeked through the crack.

“Nobody naked in here? Remus said you’d be–”

She stopped speaking as she caught sight of James. Unintentionally swinging the door wider, he could see she was grasping Sirius’ mirror in her other hand. She had clearly been crying, streaks of salt bleached skin lined her cheeks, eyes red and puffy. 

“Nope, unfortunately fully clothed!” Sirius’ mood made an immediate rebound, hopping off his bed towards her. 

Lily eyed James for a fleeting moment before turning her attention to an approaching Sirius, mirror outstretched. 

“I wanted to give this back—and thank you. I didn’t think Sawyer was capable of–of acting like that.”

Sirius gave her a smile, all frustration completely melted, flashing one of his biggest and most genuine grins. 

“No worries Evans. Sorry your boyfriend–er, ex boyfriend was such a fucking idiot.”

Lily nodded, offering him a weak smile. 

“Right—well have a good night.”

She closed the door behind her and Sirius spoke, not turning to look at him.

“If you go right this second I bet you could catch her before anyone else does.”

It was the confirmation he needed to hear. James bounded towards the door and ripped it open. Lily was only a few steps down, clearly not too enthused to walk back into a room full of people who wanted to hear about the newest scandal. 

“Hey Evans–”

She turned to look up at him, eyes glassy. 

“You alright?”

Lily tried to give a weak smile. “Yeah, peachy.”

He took a calculated step forward. “I heard what happened with Sparrow—it was a real shit thing he did.”

Her eyes wandered around the dim lit stairwell, looking everywhere but at him. 

“Yeah well, I guess he isn’t going to make the cut.”Her eyes glanced up at him. Mouth open, poised for something. He was about to say his goodnight when it tumbled out of her mouth, clear and unwavering.

“It was about you, you know–.” Her eyes were steady on him, even with tears in her eyes, she looked defiant. 

“All I did was mention how we sit together in the library after charms—guess that hit some jealousy nerve I never knew about.”

James could feel his whole body tingling. She continued.

“I kept telling him it was nothing, that you and I were just mates but—he just went raving,” she hesitated, “--anyways, I’m sure you know the rest. Everyone is talking about it.” 

She turned to step back down the stairs, clearly spent from the emotional toll of it all. To James, she had never looked more beautiful, like the most resilient person in the world. 

“Lily wait,” he called down and she turned back to him, eyes glowing from the reflection of the candlelight. 

“You can always talk to me. I’m here for you—you know, if you want me to be.”

It was the first real smile he had seen her give since he saw her. 

“Yeah, I guess I do want that.”

[sams-butt-dem0n]

Darry x high school gf!reader

• You and Darry had been together for years now; four to be exact. The two of you had met in high school when you moved to Tulsa in your Junior year and you fell in love with him instantly. • You had met his parents, obviously before they died, many times and they were always so kind to you, especially his mom. She was the best. • It was because of this that when they passed, you felt like you had lost your family too. However, you could only comfort Darry and his brothers and ensure everything ran smoothly. • Darry hated that. He wanted to be the one in charge all the time. He believed he was the man of the house and while that did annoy you (and trust me it annoyed you A LOT), you completely understood that all he was trying to do was look out for his little brothers.

• Ponyboy definitely loves you to pieces: you help him with his homework, you read with him, you buy him lots of cool stuff to show off to Johnny and Dallas whenever they are off on their shenanigans, and you are just there for him all the time. • Soda views you more as a best friend than he does as a sister. He can always joke around with you and have a good time; he can sit and talk when things aren't going so well; he rambles to you about Sandy (when they were together) and cries when she breaks his heart. • Ponyboy loves that you don't see him as a little kid and that you take the majority of the things he says seriously. I mean, he does have his stupid moments, but doesn't everyone? You treat him as an equal, like the rest of the gang. • Speaking of the gang, they all love you a whole bunch, especially when you cook for them in the mornings after a rumble and they're all burned out. • Darry loves that you're so involved with the gang, more his brothers, and he honestly couldn't have hoped for anything better.

• Darry himself never really had much free time, not after his parents died. He's always working, trying to keep the boys alive and while you appreciate that, you just wish he'd give himself a break, even if it was just one day every 2 weeks. • He's constantly worn out and the only time he ever gets to spend with you is when he's asleep after overworking himself and being sent home early. • You did miss the boy you met in high school and you missed being able to spend time with him and go on dates but you knew that he wasn't going to change. He was doing it for his family.

• However, on the very rare occasion that you DID get to spend time with Darry, he would always have an arm around you. whether that's around your waist, over your shoulders, or even just a hand on your knee. He wanted to be touching you because he knew it would be a while before he could do it again. • Definitely calls you "darling" and the classic "babe" but he isn't really a sucker for pet names. • When he has a later start for work, he'll come up behind you while you're making ponyboy and Soda and whoever else decides to stop over the night before some breakfast, and he'll place his hands on your hips and kiss the back of your head, rubbing his hands on your skin before walking to get a drink or help set the table. • Gets teased by Soda sometimes when he gets caught doing something lovey-dovey like kissing your forehead, staring at you for a little too long or giving you a compliment; but he never does anything outrageous in front of the gang. He won't even kiss your lips around them.

• Darry would never let anybody say a bad word about you and if he ever heard someone, he'd glare them down his his arms crossed, his biceps stretching the fabric of his usual black t-shirt, and his eyes colder than ice. • As much as you appreciated his protectiveness, sometimes he could scare you with how angry he looked. • Extremely protective but doesn't let it show unless it's absolutely necessary. Won't bother if some guy calls you hot because he knows that you are but if anybody even dares to lay a finger on you, he'd want to tear their heads off. • Obviously, he can't do that due to the difficult situation of Soda and Ponyboy getting put in a boy's home, but God, he wanted to.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed it! I don't really do much on Darry, Two-bit or Steve but I'm gonna try and make it somewhat even, even though I definitely have my preferences haha.

[teyums]

His Secret Admirer (Part Three) - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader

part one | part two | part four | bonus chapter

wc: 4.3k

a/n: here is the well awaited pt 3, I didn’t know it could get more angst-y than it already has but boy I was wrong. the next part will be the final part to the series, prepare for sh!t to go down y’allll 😗

contains: soft + angsty neteyam, lots of emotions so buckle up fr, some language (not much at all), familial conflict

“~~” resembles a time skip or a POV change

Neteyam rarely got angry. But after witnessing Eyiti purposely say what she did to hurt your feelings, he felt anger bubble deep in the pit of his stomach. He so badly wanted to chase after you as he watched you walk away, but he couldn’t risk having her run to tell her parents that the olo’eyktan’s son had disrespected her. This was what he faced on the daily, people holding his future over his head with no regard of how high he had to jump just to get it back. He was trying his hardest to keep his parents in a good mood, so when he would tell them about you they would be less inclined to deny his pleas and actually hear him out. If he went after you, it would squash all of his hopes of ever being yours. He whipped his head around to face the unapologetic girl in front of him, not being able to conceal his repugnance.

“Why did you do that?” He spoke through gritted teeth, jerking his arm away to remove her grimy mitt from his skin. “I did not promise you anything. My parents do not speak for me.” He brushed his arm, trying to expunge the feeling of her touch.

“Oh, but I think they do ‘Teyam.” She cooed with a pout that was far from genuine to shield the smug that lied behind her lips. “They said you’d talk to my parents, so that’s what you’re going to do. Unless, you want me to go and tell my father about your little girlfriend. And now that I think about it, I don’t even think I heard your parents mention her. Is that allowed?” She already knew the answer, her question was only a threat.

Everything began to add up in his mind. Why her behavior would change so suddenly- trying her hardest to gain his attention conveniently at the time you would come around. He had never once felt the urge to injure a woman, and he still didn’t, but he was definitely tempted to tag Kiri in on this conversation and support whatever method of action she chose to take.

He wished he could have told you in that moment that being her date was never his idea. But he was just as stunned, it hadn’t even been brought up to him before Eyiti revealed the information in front of the two of you. There his parents went again, making decisions for him knowing he would have no choice but to follow through. His heart felt like it had been stomped on, even more so at the thought of how badly you were hurting right now. He had no intention of leading you on, and you probably hated him for doing just that, even if it were accidental. In fact, he planned on agreeing to the Ikran ride, taking the two of you somewhere you wouldn’t be disturbed and asking you to be his date to the festival. But everything went to shit, like usual.

He exhaled sharply, biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would have this brat running to make his life more of a living hell than it was already becoming. He dodged Eyiti’s attempt at grabbing his hand to lead him along, shooting her a piercing glare. If looks could kill, the village would be planning her funeral right about now. “I can walk just fine on my own. And stop calling me that.”

He entered her family’s home with as much respect as he could muster, grudgingly taking a seat once realizing his parents had already arrived. There was nothing he could do to stall this any longer. He kept his stare avoidant, anything to distract him from the conversation at hand. There was a drastic amount of space between him and Eyiti on the mat, which Jake had not failed to realize. The voices around him sounded like they were underwater as he tuned them out. He toyed with the intricate details on his armband while they spoke, all he could think about was how this was the last place he wanted to be. His mind was anywhere else but here. The image of you talking with Ta’olu reappeared in his mind like clockwork, regardless of how many times he tried to erase it.

“Neteyam?” Neytiri’s voice repeated for the third time, sending him a warning glance once noticing he was out of it before she proceeded. “Do you agree with the date chosen for your ceremony?”

No, absolutely not. He didn’t agree with the date chosen, he didn’t even agree with the woman chosen.

Eyiti never paid him mind years ago until the day she found out what he would grow up to be. She looked at him like a piece of meat and he knew it. Not that he ever craved her attention; when she would speak he would simply imagine she was someone else. You were the only girl in the clan who saw him for who he truly was. Just a man wanting to fall in love like everybody else. Was that so bad?

Neteyam abruptly rose up from where he sat and cleared his throat, effectively cutting the conversation short with an unexpected answer. “I am sorry, I refuse to mate with Eyiti. I will only accompany her to the festival, as that has been promised by my parents. But no one other than me will have a say in who will have my heart.”

The mouths of everyone in the room fell to the floor but Neteyam stood strong on his declaration, excusing himself from the conversation and walking out of the tent- leaving Eyiti as stunned and embarrassed as she had made you feel earlier. Jake and Neytiri immediately rose to go after him, apologizing for his change of behavior as much as they could while her parents consoled their daughter who was now sobbing dramatically.

He didn’t want to accompany her to the festival at all, but declining her as a mate, and forcing his parents to meet someone new all in one day was probably not the best idea. His plan was to show up with Eyiti, then ditch her in roughly ten minutes after her parents saw them together, slip out unnoticed and find you. He’d have to get Tuk in on the plan to serve as a distraction, which shouldn’t be too difficult for him. Neteyam was a stickler for being a gentleman, but he couldn’t care less about that witch’s feelings.

His legs were sent into a slight run-walk as Jake forced him into their family home by the back of his neck. He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair before turning around to face his father who was nearly red in the face, already knowing what was next to come.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how much you’ve embarrassed us? Our entire family? In front of the parents of the woman who is supposed to be your mate?” He yelled a string of questions, his finger pointed out of their tent to clarify exactly what he was referring to. His eldest son stood unamused. Silent and withdrawn. His physical body was here, but his mental was somewhere unknown. His head was turned to the side, his face not even so much as flinching at his father’s words. He simply laughed to himself, dropping his head towards the floor and mumbling incomprehensible sentences to himself.

“And what are you laughing at? Which part of this is funny to you?” Neytiri chimed in, looking at him with such disbelief it would have hurt his feelings, had he found the will to care. There was no more approval he strived to seek from his parents.

“Answer your mother when she’s speaking to you, boy.” Jake growled, Neteyam’s ears perking up.

“I am not a boy.” His eyes shot up, challenging his father with zero hesitation in his tone. Neteyam had it to his wits end with his parents trying to control every aspect of his life. Elder or not, he was no longer going to let them have a say in who he chose to love or how he chose to live his life. “You heard what I said.” His accent was apparent.  “I will not mate with that woman. And I will not apologize for loving another, my heart belongs to [Y/n].” He stated strongly, lifting his chin to indicate confidence in his decision.

Neytiri blinked in astonishment, her voice sputtering while she tried to find a way to continue the conversation with words instead of knocking him over his head. “And what makes you think we will allow you to mate with someone we do not know? Someone we have not deemed fit for you? This girl will be Tsahik, Neteyam!” She hissed.

This. This was the issue. His parents were so concerned about status in the clan that they let it overshadow their own son’s right to happiness.

“I have tried so many times to tell you! She is special, I swear it. You guys won’t listen to me.” He extended his hands to the pair in a pleading motion, his voice growing louder with each word he spoke and a slight crack in his pitch giving away how much this was all starting to affect him. “Dad wasn’t even one of the people when the two of you mated, it went against everything the clan knows. You cannot judge me. And I couldn’t care less about this stupid title. You can give it to Lo’ak, for all I care.” He spat, leaving them right where they stood and storming out of their home.

He was right, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Jake wasn’t a real na’vi when he first arrived, he was an avatar driver with an aborted mission. Neytiri was promised to another, but went against her parents and mated with him anyway. They both went against the rules because their love for each other was so strong, just as he was now. How could his own parents blame him for wanting to find true love just as they did?

“Neteyam!” Neytiri gasped, both her hands coming up to cover her mouth and tears forming in her eyes.

Jake immediately turned to comfort her, pulling her into a firm hug and rubbing her back. “He doesn’t mean that, I know he doesn’t. He’s just upset, I’ll talk to him.” He held her as she cried into his chest, wanting to go after Neteyam but knowing he couldn’t leave his wife alone after what had transpired.

By the time Jake had soothed Neytiri and ran out after his son, he had already set out into the air on his Ikran without another word spoken.

Neteyam soared through the purple-tinted sky aimlessly, allowing the bond with the animal to reach deep into his heart and figure out where to take him. He winced at the thought of how he had addressed his mother, the look on her face after what he said. He was fed up and couldn’t stand to argue any longer, his voice was not being heard no matter how loud he spoke and it had pushed him well over the edge. By the time he realized what he was saying, it was too late to take it back and the damage had already been done. He felt the innate urge to turn around, to run to his mother and apologize. But he was tired of doing the right thing all the time. For once in his life he just wanted to be able to make a mistake like everybody else could without it seeming like the end of the world.

His father’s voice calling his name could be heard through the speaker connected to the neckpiece they all wore for communication. He curled his lips in annoyance, hooked two fingers under the band and snapped it off his neck with ease. He pitched it into the air without another thought, letting it fall to the ground below him. He had no idea where it landed and he couldn’t care less. He didn’t want to be bothered anymore.

He allowed the wind to flow through his braids, the cold, crisp air hitting his cheek and helping in keeping him grounded. After what felt like a short journey, his Ikran slowed and prepared to land in the open field by the Tree of Voices- a place for prayers to be heard. He eyed the giant willow tree, ignoring the heavy weight in his chest. He dismounted from the bird, gently pulling his braid to break tsaheylu and smoothing a hand up its rough back, followed by a tender pat to calm its spirit. He hadn’t been here since his parents brought him to visit the ancestors, when he was younger. There had been nothing he wanted enough to call upon Eywa for, and his duties rendered him far more busy than he had expected, which left almost no time for a casual visit.

He trailed a hand along the delicate, elongated tendrils of the tree as he walked- taking a brief looking around to make sure he was alone before he slowly lowered himself to the ground. He reached over his shoulder to pull the long braid from behind his back, taking hold of one of the tree’s branches in his other hand. He watched closely as his queue reached for the branch, wrapping itself around and making the connection that would allow Eywa to hear his pleas. He could feel the intense spiritual energy coarse through his veins, allowing him to let his guard down.

His head lowered and his eyes came to a close. He had so much to say but didn’t know how to phrase it, didn’t know how to start. Neteyam was not familiar in asking for things, let alone help. He was always made to do everything himself, made to figure it out on his own like a true leader. Every moment in his life boiled down to preparation for what was yet to come, so much that he didn’t even know how to handle the emotions that would arise in the present. He was constantly running, motivation carrying him forward. But now he questioned the purpose of the race entirely. Had he ever stopped to ask himself if this was what he wanted?

“Eywa, I have come to you to ask for help, if you’ll have me.” He started, his voice merely a whisper as he continued. “I don’t know what to do.”

Going against his parents was ultimately going against everything he knew. It felt wrong. Forbidden. But giving up on his feelings for you felt even worse. At this point he didn’t care what would happen, he’d bare with having his potential title stripped from him if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with you by his side.

His eyes shut tightly in attempt to stop the tears he dreaded welcoming. His throat burned and a lump began to form that felt nearly impossible to swallow. He didn’t want to cry, not after he had tried so hard not to. He hadn’t in years, and he knew if he allowed himself to break down in this moment it would only lead to bringing up every other emotion he had succeeded in bottling up for so long.

Neteyam’s shoulders began to shudder and he shook his head in resistance at the shiver that struck through his body, but ultimately failed at putting up a fight. A sob finally erupted from his trembling lips and he brought his free hand up to shield his face, as if he were afraid someone would see him in such a vulnerable state. He sat in the bioluminescent flora around him, simply allowing himself to cry, something he hadn’t been able to do in years. The pressure of being the perfect son had finally gotten to him. He was aware from time that it was slowly creeping up, taking an immense toll on his mental health and he tried his best to outrun it. A slight miscalculation on his end, you can never outrun the inevitable. He had never expected it to break him down in such a way, his body physically feeling weak and hopeless. He was completely conflicted, knowing it was always best to follow his heart but it went against his coding to disappoint his parents.

He felt the presence of Eywa and his ancestors calm him, the pace of his breathing gradually returned to normal and the beating of his heart followed soon after. He wiped his face dry with the backside of his hand, regaining his composure while gathering the will to carry on with his prayer. “I have never asked anything of you until now, because nothing has ever meant more to me than this. Until I met her, I hadn’t known the true meaning of happiness, what it felt like to be alive. And now, we’ve found our way back into each other’s lives and I cannot let her go. Not again.” He felt an ache deep in his chest, fearful that even saying these words out loud would turn them into reality.

“I fear that I have disappointed my parents greatly. I said some things I am not proud of, and I am not sure if I can take back the damage they have caused.” He sighed, his eyes opening and his head raising to peer at the sky above him. “I know she is special. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it, deep in my bones.” With his hand placed over his chest, it balled into a fist against his skin and he begged with everything he had left in him.

“Please, allow them to see her the way I do.”

~~~

Had it not been for your mother that day, you don’t know what you would’ve done. The walk back to your tent was unforgiving as you tried to hide the tears that were forming once more, not out of sorrow, but of pure disgust. The speed in which you declined Ta’olu’s invitation was utterly comical. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t consider it for a second, but all the faith you had in his proposal died as soon as you found out he was only inviting you to make the same girl he ditched you for in the past, jealous. You wished you hadn’t even stopped to give him the time of day because the whole encounter only made you feel worse.

You pushed through the fabric that served as a doorway to your home and crossed the distance that separated you from your mother, sinking to your knees and tears flowing from your eyes when she wrapped her arms around you without question. “I’m too late, Mama.” You hiccuped. Your tears felt like acid on your cheeks and it hurt to even speak. You hated crying, especially over something like this. The entire process of being upset, realizing your emotions, then having to find an outlet to rid them- revolted you.

“What happened?” Your mother looked down at you, her eyebrows furrowed with concern and a hint of apprehension. Her head moved to the side with an understanding sigh when your crying picked up at the nature of her question, resting her cheek against the top of your head and stroking your hair. She quietly shushed you, rubbing your back to aid in comfort. Your fervent emotions shrouded your will to elaborate.

You sniffled, inhaling a pathetically shaky breath and forcing your voice to come together and make words after a bit. “I’m too late. He’s found someone else.” Saying it out loud to her made it all the more real. You couldn’t stop your heart from clenching when you admitted the truth to her. In all your years of loving him, your mother had never had you come to her with anything he had done that wasn’t positive.

She slowly pulled away from your embrace, but only to look into your eyes as you spoke. She needed to make sure for herself that she was hearing this correctly. “No… How? The two of you were just together only two days ago.” She sounded as dumbfounded as you felt.

“Eyiti,” You shook your head, wiping the tears that had fallen without your permission off your face with the heel of your hand, annoyed at the fact that more appeared no matter how hard you tried to settle yourself. “She’s his date to the festival tomorrow. He’s probably talking to her parents about it right now.” Your voice got quieter, your shoulders slumping down as you sulked and studied the palms of your hands- staring at the lines etched into your skin as a getaway from your feelings.

Your eyes shot up when you heard your mother breath out a sigh, it almost sounded like she was *relieved*. She quickly geared up to explain once the expression on your face became one of slight betrayal and confusion.

She shook her head and laughed quietly, “There is still time, [Y/n]. Her being his date does not mean they are promised to one another. But it very well could, if you do not take your chance tomorrow.” She used her thumbs to clean the tears that had rolled down the side of your face, cupping it in her hands afterwards. “Did you bring what is needed?” Her eyes were soft and seeing her calm expression somehow helped you in doing the same.

“Yes, I…” You blinked to clear your vision, opening your mouth to speak but settling for a nod of your head. The small bag was brought around to your front, holding it open so she could see inside.

A grin from her was all that was required to strike you with the ambition you didn’t know you had left.

Your fingers were sore to the touch and swollen after hours of carving the marbles and stones you had found into small beads. The process was intricate and painstaking. It required delicate hands and utmost patience. Had you tried to speed up the process you were at risk of cracking the material directly in half, rendering it useless. And after doing just that almost three times while trying to rush through, you had absolutely no more room for error.

You used a thin twine to weave the beads together, crocheting intricate rows of stitches between the material to hold it together, making a clasp that would be easy for him to take on and off on his own. Your mom had taught you how to make jewelry and garments years ago, you eventually surpassed her in skill. You hadn’t the desire or need to make something for a while, but the talent you possessed remained. You constructed his gift with unbelievable precision, your eyes strained from barely taking time to blink. But you were still incredibly nervous that it wouldn’t be to his liking.

Unknown to you, Neteyam loved everything you did, even if it was as simple as breathing.

You couldn’t thank your mom enough for helping you with this. She had given you a deadpan look the tenth time you expressed gratitude, so you figured ten was a good number to settle on. You felt silly even asking, so you were more than appreciative that she had offered. At first, it was hard for you to understand why she had been so supportive. Then she explained to you that when she were head over heels for your father, she had no one to lean on but herself, not even her own mother. She was more than willing to help her daughter win over the one she loved, because all she wanted was to see you happy.

Eclipse had long passed, the sun tucking itself away after a job well done and the moon announcing its arrival with how the night now encapsulated the village. The necklace was finally complete. One could tell how much effort went into it just by looking at it, it was beautiful. The beads were varying shades of brown, orange, and red- Neteyam’s favorite colors to wear. You honestly had no idea why you decided on still making it, without even knowing how this whole thing would play out at that. There was a small part of you that feared it would go to waste after what you witnessed earlier, but there was an even bigger part of you that since rediscovered the hope you previously lost.

How dark it had become outside skated past you without notice until you finally looked up from the spot your eyes were locked on since this afternoon. The both of you had even skipped dinner just to make sure you finished in time for tomorrow.

“How are you even still sitting like this?” You collapsed backwards with a exhale of great fatigue, your eyes fluttering closed against your will and your back crying out in relief. You knew hunching over in the same exact spot would hurt, but you had no idea you’d come out of it feeling a hundred years older than you already were. “Do you think he will like it?” You mumbled, sleepiness hurriedly overtaking you.

By the time your mother turned to respond, an array of faint snores could be heard. Had you not been so exhausted, you would’ve awoken at the sound of her laughing due to your mouth hanging open obnoxiously. She smiled at you with nothing but endearment, gingerly lifting your head to slip a cushion under it and draping a light blanket over your body that was now curled into a fetal position- a mindless endeavor to seek warmth. She leaned down to kiss your temple, pushing a few braids from your face so they wouldn’t disrupt you. “He will love it.” She whispered.

a/n: y’all knew i wasn’t gonna make her accept Ta’olu’s invitation that’s toooo cliche for my liking 😭 also you literally have the best mom she’s so sweet

This chapter was so emotional to write omg! but can we talk ab the fact that Neteyam finally stood up to his parents about you, need a him in my life fr 💔

Please like + reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated! 💞

tag list ⬇️

@hornknee-and-bi-myself @obsessedwithlife @llearlert @awkward-halfhug @extreamlycutecuban @answer-the-sirens @arminsgfloll @jackiehollanderr @tejas-kris @neteyamoa @instabull @halibanana @bookishaficionado @uwu-i-purple-you @neteyamsgirll @kre3ce @philiasoul @eringaitskill @bwormie @fanboyluvr @ssc7514 @meivap @afro-hispwriter @hellok1ttycake @melsunshine @casuallydogobsessed @katsukiswrld @mcdonalds-playground @itscheybaby @neenieweenie @babyvinnie @msjae @laylasbunbunny @epicy0n @dreamersbelieveinus @elegantzippercashshoe

[whoppert]

Hands on the Ground! (König/Reader)

2,652 words

tagged: König protective stalker; non-con groping of MC by villain

AO3 Master Fic List

The new recruit has caught König’s eye. He's seen a lot, but this is new. He doesn't want to complicate her life, no, he will just watch her from the shadows.

It's just a crush. An obsessive crush. An addictive and feverish and all-consuming crush. Nothing more.

But when she has a problem, König takes it upon himself to find a solution.

König passes by the new recruits in the training area. It’s not often he particularly notices a recruit - sure, he’s incredibly observant. He’ll notice a change in breathing in an opponent in a fight, a slight change in the walking gait of a teammate when they’re hiding an injury, but rarely does someone actually make an impression on him.

He checks with the training leader and learns her surname. The leader says she has promise, and asks if König wants to meet her, but the king declines. No, he’ll just watch from afar.

That night he steals her personnel file. Just some light reading, a bedtime story. This is where he gets a full name, address and next-of-kin, her brother. A dishonorable discharge from a foreign militia is on her record, but there’s no explanation.

AO3

It wasn't a concern, KorTac had a high turnover in the lower ranks, so administration often ignored marks on people’s records when it came to new hires. From her records, König learns that she speaks four languages fluently, that she has pilot experience and the area she struggles in is sniper shooting.

König thought about her as he drifted off to sleep.

A few weeks pass.

He keeps to his internal promise to watch from afar, but that doesn’t stop him taking the long route to get around the base, just so he’ll have a chance to watch. She’s really something in combat and wins both of the hand-to-hand training sessions that König manages to watch casually as he strolls by. He can read the tension in the male recruits. She’s the only female who manages to win in a mixed-sex fight and it wounds their egos.

Good, König thinks to himself. He knows how men fight and the angrier they get, the easier they are to defeat if you can read the signs, which she seems to be able to, because she taunts them as she fights them, a verbal dressing down for their shitty behavior and arrogance, respectively.

Occasionally he’d see her in the mess hall when their schedules overlapped. She sits with two other female recruits, and smiles at them warmly, the group seemed to have an affinity to each other that usually signifies friendship. She isn’t shy about getting what she needs to fuel her body, she’s smart in that way.

The next training session König watched entirely from the shadows. She wrestles well, though she doesn’t have the strength or size of her opponent so she is quick to recover from his grapple. She’s very quick. This opponent, a man with a dark cropped haircut is much better than her previous sparring partners. The rest of the recruits don’t talk through this fight like they did during the turns of the other pairs. No, this fight seems to be significant for all of them as a group. Her legs are strong, and she kicks her opponent just over his center of balance, sending him stumbling backwards.

In the second she took to right herself, her gaze flicked over and settled where König was watching, leaning against the edge of a nearby building, arms crossed over his chest. Bright eyes bore into his, the only visible part of his face. Today was another day he was glad to have his mask, the surprised expression rendered invisible to the outside world. It is only one second at most, but her opponent spots it.

The battle is quickly concluded, and her streak is lost.

König is gone before she’s even hauled herself up from the dirt.

Some nights later, König checked the schedule and found that she had booked a time at the sniping range to practice and that only one other soldier had booked an overlapping session. König made sure he was called for guard duty.

This is how he would make up for costing her the match.

The sky is grey and dull. He watches as she fires several shots, observing her form and then steps up to the neighboring practice spot. They do not acknowledge each other. She is too busy practicing to notice. She is by no means bad at it, just struggles with moving targets, which is costing her attempts. König is proud of his marksmanship, and knows that if he had that rifle he would have put down each of the targets in half as many bullets.

After another round she looks up at König from her seat, pulling her ear muffs off. He is sitting too, but even so she has to look up at him - everyone has to look up at him.

“You jerk as the gun fires,” he says. “You need to square your shoulders in order to support the weight of the rifle.”

She blinks, and considers his critique. Pressing the start button for the next round of moving targets, she hits every single one, only missing one shot. She rubs her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

There is a pause.

“You’re the Colonel. König.”

“Yes. And you are?”

She gives him her name, though he already knows it.

“Good luck with your training, Lieutenant.”

König is called for a mission that will send him away for two weeks. Normally he welcomes the change of pace, but he mourns watching her each day. She is always in the back of his mind, and often in the front of it. He just can't stop himself from thinking about her.

When he returns, everything is the same on the surface, but she's different. Tense. König wonders what changed.

When he catches her sparring, there is a brutal ferocity to her movements, until she faces the only recruit who has ever bested her. König watches as she seizes up. The dark haired recruit easily takes her down, and his friends jeer. Perhaps it is a mental block?

A few days later, König collides with her - literally. He's making his way to visit a colleague when she comes out of a door, looking behind her, and smashing squarely into his chest. Strong hands grip her upper arms, so she narrowly avoids toppling over backwards. She's flushed, flustered.

"Forgive me," she stutters, glancing over her shoulder.

His hands don't leave her sides. For a second he short circuits. She feels so small compared to his large form.

"Hey," an unfamiliar voice calls from a familiar face as the dark haired recruit flies through the door after her. He stops suddenly, saluting. "Sir."

She seems to notice the breach of conduct and steps back quickly. König lets his hands fall to his sides.

"Is something wrong?" König asks, looking only at her.

“No. Sir,” she adds his title as an afterthought.

“Then you are dismissed.”

He didn’t believe her.

König had seen the growing tension between herself and this recruit. Naturally, he takes a look at the recruit’s personnel file as well. Adrian Meyer. No complaints. No formal military training, it seemed he’d been accepted to some relatively unknown private militia on a fluke. 24 years of age. Had left his previous employment voluntarily, but seemed to have made it into KorTac on the assurance that he was a quick study. It seemed true enough, his training showed exemplary marks - except in hand-to-hand. Always second place until recently. So he dislikes that she’s bested him, it creates tension, nothing particularly unusual, soldiers had troubles like this all the time. Still something doesn’t sit right with König. She had fought him a handful of times, and he’d studied her enough. She was always calm, collected, put together. Even first thing in the morning she’d report without a hint of exhaustion on her face. She could put on a show, hide her feelings as expertly as if she wore a mask, so what could have shaken her so badly the other day? Perhaps Meyer had said something to her, but what could he have said that left her so afraid?

There are hundreds of security cameras on a military base, with his clearance it was no issue at all to pull the footage. He isolated the record to about the rough time he’d run into her, and rewound from there. The video filled him with rage.

A few days pass and he watches the new recruits. She is shaken, making stupid mistakes and isolating herself from her friends. She eats lunch alone, practices alone and is easily defeated by opponents she had never so much as blinked at before. Meyer’s confidence grows each day, just continuing on as if nothing had happened.

König visits the trainees. She notices his approach, everyone else too deep in conversation, but as soon as she sees him, she turns her face away, refusing eye contact. He wants to tell her that he is going to fix this, but he doesn’t. König has said exactly forty words to her before, and he is not ready to add to the total.

“Meyer,” the training lead called out, König at his side. “The colonel is impressed with your training, he’d like a word.”

Meyer’s face split into a wide grin. “Knew it couldn’t be long before I started to get noticed.”

The pair step off to the side.

“Come visit me tonight in my office. 2100 hours. I want to discuss your future with KorTac.”

The smile falters momentarily. “Sir, I would love to, but I have guard duty-”

König interrupts, “I have arranged it. If you play your cards right, you’ll never have to pull guard duty again.”

Meyer is on time. He knocks on König’s office door at exactly 2100 hours. König invites him in, and at the sight of him Meyer stiffens.

“Relax,” König passes Meyer a drink. “This will be informal. I just want to get to know you a little better.”

König’s cheerful voice and the alcohol lulls Meyer into a false sense of security. The king is adept at this kind of hunt, he laughs on cue and flatters his prey with compliments, plying him with liquor, though Meyer doesn’t seem to notice that König has been nursing the same drink all night.

It’s growing late and still they talk. König knows the right time to strike is approaching because Meyer has started to talk absolute bullshit, too comfortable with the colonel.

“It’s just funny that you’re Austrian,” Meyer hiccups, swallowing the last of his glass.

“Why is that?” König makes sure the smile reaches his voice, since Meyer won’t see it.

“It’s just- to have an Austrian in charge of this place. Like shouldn’t you be running a farm or something?” Meyer laughs, and König pretends to laugh with him.

“You are a typical little Bavarian, aren’t you, Meyer?”

“I’m hardly little, I’m 190.5 centimeters!”

“You are little to me.” König replies.

The time is here.

König clears his voice. “Can I show you a video I found the other day? It’s hilarious.”

Meyer nods, pouring himself another glass.

König pulls up the security footage, pre-prepared and paused right before the crucial moment.

When Meyer notices, his eyebrows knit together. “Is this the security tape?”

König ignores him and hits ‘play’.

The shot is of one of the rooms used to take language lessons. It is completely empty until she enters. Moments later, Meyer follows her. He says something that causes her to freeze up, but unfortunately the feed is visual only. Meyer takes a step towards her and she takes a matching step back, her lips forming unheard words, her face pleading.

“What is this?” Meyer asks. He seems suddenly sober. “Why are you showing this to me?”

She faints right, breaks left, but it’s a move she frequents while sparring and he’s prepared for it, shoving her hard into the wall behind her. She struggles to regain her balance and throws a sloppy punch, which Meyer outmaneuvers, slapping her hard in the face and using the moment she is stunned to turn her around, pressing the front of her body against the wall as he presses himself against her back. One hand holds her by the back of her throat, her cheek against the plaster, the other runs down her body, groping the sides of her breasts and squeezing her ass before he kicks her legs apart and begins to touch between her legs. He is whispering something in her ear.

“It’s not what it looks-” Meyer stands abruptly.

“Sit down,” it is an order. All of the comradery König had exhibited early vanishes.

Meyer obeys.

Meyer is clumsy, too caught up in the moment. He releases her neck to step forward, sandwiching her body between his and the wall for maximum contact. He grinds his crotch against her, his lips close enough to kiss her neck, but she uses the second he is distracted and stamps down hard on the top of his foot. Immediately, Meyer staggers away, and she bolts. The camera shot switches into the hall as she bursts from the room, running straight into the Colonel.

The clip ends.

“Look,” Meyer pleads, “I know how that looks, but she came onto me, alright? You can’t hear her, but she wanted it. She’s been a tease for months, it’s not my fault is she panicked the second things got real, it-”

König does not care for excuses. “Left or right?”

The quest jars the recruit. “W-what?”

“I asked: ‘left or right?’”

“Right?” Meyer seems confused.

“Very well. Put your right hand on the ground.”

Meyer didn’t move. “Why?” There was panic in his voice now. He repeats the question when at first he doesn’t receive an answer.

“Because I am going to crush it beneath my boot.” There was a hint of sadistic pleasure apparent in the tone.

“Wh- no. No.” Meyer stuttered, cradling his hand to his chest. “You can’t do that.” Again he stands, but he does not back away, König stands between him and the exit.

“You touched her with both hands,” König said coldly. “It is by my mercy alone that your other hand has been spared. I have let you pick which hand you would like to keep, but you will be punished for touching her, Schwein. Do not disobey me. Put your right hand on the ground.”

“I didn’t know she was yours, I wouldn’t have ever-”

König steps towards him and this time it is Meyer shrinking back.

“Please,” he begs. “Please.”

But it is of no use. Meyer can see that. Face flushed and body shaking, he slowly kneels on the carpet, begging once more to no avail as he places his hand palm-first against the floor.

The next day, König walks past her like she was nothing to him. Like she didn’t consume every thought. He’d done what needed to be done and he had no regrets, but that didn’t mean he suddenly had a free pass to talk to her, she was his subordinate, that kind of fraternization would get him in trouble, and even if he got away with it, who’s to say she'd even want him? He could live in her shadow knowing that under his supervision she would befall no harm. He likes knowing that he took care of her little problem.

König watches her eating at the mess hall. Her friends rush to her, telling her something that he could not hear, though he could make out the excited tone they used.

“An accident?” She repeats.

“Yes, broke his hand. Doc showed me the x-ray, it was fucked. Crushed and twisted so badly he’ll be lucky if they can fit rods against the remaining bones. He’s resigned for long term medical care, but the doc said he’ll never shoot again.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently he fell in front of a Jeep and it ran his hand over.”

“That’s unlucky,” she says. For a brief moment she glances in König’s direction.

For an even briefer moment he holds her gaze, before excusing himself.

AO3

[rosemoncherie]

business affairs: t.wolff - series [OLD VERSION]

Chapter One: The Night Everything Began.

pairing: Toto Wolff x OC!Natalia Danon.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, age gap (Natalia is 32), talks of divorce, allusions to sexism, fast paced, explicit sexual scene, cunnilingus, slight dirty talk.

w.c: 4.04K

tags: @queenshikongo3 @bluesole16 @christinabae @aisharmi @hoziersfairy @queenzee27 @omgsuperstarg @lewisroscoelove @itsyagirlmeee @joviallljas @serpenttines-library @hrlzy @sugardontbesweet @tallrock35 @tian-monique @f1-hoff @peyiswriting @thewolffswife @mochiminimoni @bekindbecoolbeyou

KUALA LUMPUR, MALAYSIA. 2022.

Natalia was exhausted but ultimately, she was hungry.

Very hungry.

She had rationalised that since she was already downstairs, going into the in-house restaurant was better than tracking all the way up her suite and ordering room service when she could hear the loud growling of her stomach.

Quickly, Natalia was seated and ordered some focaccia with an olive oil dip and a glass of Corton Charlemagne white wine. After a long day of meetings and conferences, a good glass of wine was desperately needed.

It had only been a couple of years since Natalia had been assigned to the position of Chief Financial Officer of Mercedes Benz. The youngest woman to ever be appointed to the role and unfortunately, the first black woman to ever hold that title for a top five company within the vehicle industry.

Natalia had been a finance protege. A master of her craft as some people would describe her and when her parents picked up on her affinity for numbers, they did everything possible to advance her career. And all the better for it as it led her to where was today.

She loved her job and despite all of the hardships and pushback that she had faced, no one and nothing was going to take that away from her.

That however, did not change the fact there were some days where the job had been strenuous on her mind and body. Hours on end speaking to people in seminars, overseeing a few upcoming projects and a lot of walking. The walking was the worst of it all as Natalia had chosen a beautiful pair of high heels typically made for a sitting situation. She had failed to anticipate just how much walking she would have had to partake in today.

Natalia hummed softly as she chewed on the dip soaked bread. After four hours, this was the first piece of nourishment she had after hours of sipping on only water. Her eyes wandered around her surroundings until they landed on a man.

Toto Wolff.

The CEO and team principal of the Mercedes-AMG PETRONAS Formula One team. A man who she held a lot of great respect for and he made it known whenever the both of them were in the same vicinity that the feeling was mutual. Toto staying in the same hotel as herself was not uncommon. Mercedes Benz and the Ritz-Carlton were in a long term partnership, hence they were able to stay in the luxurious hotel free of charge anywhere in the world.

A perk of the job.

Their eyes met and his face radiated a genuine smile. Quite the rare sight of the man. Natalia waved for him to come over and soon enough, Toto was being led towards her table. As soon as she stood up to greet him, the sleeves of her jersey slid back down her arms.

“Good to see you again.” Toto greeted her after a quick hug.

Natalia giggled as she sat back down with him pulling a chair close beside her. “We’ve seen each other a lot today.”

“That’s what happens when you work together.”

"Technically I am your boss, you work for me.

Natalia shot back which caused Toto to chuckle.

”You love pointing that out don’t you.” His right eyebrow lifted as he took in her facial features.

“Yes I want to make sure that you never forget it.”

“And I won’t.” His eyes trailed down to her glossed lips and settled there for a moment.

Toto licked his.

The action was subtle but Natalia caught it all. She took a deep breath as she reached for the menus.

”Are you ordering anything to eat or are you just here to keep me company?”

The question caused him to smirk. “Well. I had only come in, to a place an order to be delivered to my suite but now that I’m here I don’t see why I can’t do both. A late dinner in the company of a beautiful woman? You’d be a fool to decline that.”

His words and tone were laced with flirtation and Natalia hated herself for just how much it swayed her. You’d be an idiot to deny how attractive the man was. A tall giant at 6 feet 5 inches, slender yet muscular in all the places that counted. For a mature man like him, Toto kept himself physically agile and well groomed. Almost always clean shaved but his hair always ended up ruffled from the constant wear of headphones and how frequently he ran his fingers through the dark locks.

Outside of appearance, his charisma was extremely charming as intended. Toto knew how to talk to people and he knew how to make people feel comfortable around them. The addition of his accent to his voice, Natalia knew that trying to fight her attraction towards the recently divorced man was futile.

The pair ended up ordering the chef’s special along with the bottle of Corton Charlemagne. As they enjoyed their meal, the conversation was easy going. Natalia spoke for most of the time whilst Toto listened. He was interested in knowing about her life - only interjecting when he felt that his opinion was needed.

When the bottle of wine was finished, Natalia switched to drinking water. Her flight out of Malaysia was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon and she would rather still have control of her senses.

“I can’t believe you’re single though.” The words easily slipped out of her mouth before she could have stopped her harbouring thought. The topic of conversation had been on his previous marriage as it had been a diversion of attention from the status of Natalia’s love life. One could argue why her question was inappropriate to ask but curiosity had gripped her. When the divorce was announced at the tail end of 2021, people had been curious to know the reason. Nobody had thought that the power couple of motorsports would ever part ways.

Toto sighed. “As much as we tried to not let our marriage get in the way of her career, the stigma that she would always just be my wife and that everything she would accomplish would be attributed to our matrimony ultimately became too much to bear. Of course there were other issues that contributed to the divorce but that was a big one. At the end of the day it was the best decision for the both of us. She needed to grow and being with me was a hindrance to that. No matter how much I loved her, her growth as a leader and as a person was far more important to me.”

“Wow.” Nat whispered as she let his words sink in. He spoke with great candour and genuine care. She could still feel the love that Toto had for Susie but there was romantic fondness in his words. Just respect and adoration for his ex-wife.

Toto nervously chuckled as he scratched the top of his left eyebrow. “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d be talking about my ex with you.”

“No, no. That was deeply profound. It’s a shame things came to such an ending but I think the choice that the both of you came to was a good one. If that is any type of comfort.”

“It is.” Toto softly smiled as he played with the stem of his wine glass. “It’s taken some time to get used to that but I’m getting there.”

”That’s good.”

That particular conversation ended there. Things were getting too deep and personal for either of their liking.

“No more talk about past relationships.” Toto said as he reached for the wine selection menu. However, Nat reached forward and placed her hand on his wrist to stop him.

“No more drinking for me. I need to head up to bed. My flight is tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving so soon?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I need to get to London by Friday. INEOS moved their meeting up to then instead of the agreed Wednesday the following week.”

“That could be because Jim is coming to London around that time.”

“I don’t care. It doesn’t change the fact that multiple people, me included, are now having to re-arrange our schedules because Radcliffe is an impatient old man.” Natalia complained as she rolled her eyes. A move that made Toto laugh as he placed the menu down.

“How about I walk you up to your room then?” He volunteered.

Her back straightened up and she lightly cleared her throat. “Yes. Please.”

Ever the gentleman, Toto put the bill of the meal on his room tab instead of Natalia having to share the cost. All the way to her suite, Toto had kept her smiling and giggling and it made her sick just how down her guard was. She couldn’t even blame it on alcohol.

All night, the crush she had for the man beside her had been festering and now it was at a fever’s pitch. Being in his presence for such a long time, alone, had her mind thinking of things that she shouldn’t.

They stood outside of her suite’s door, key card in hand with her back to the frame. At her full height, her forehead was still barely touching his chin. Toto was looking down at her with a soft glimmer of something in his eyes that she couldn’t deny.

”Would you like to come in? I have a full bar if you want to continue drinking. If not, I have something else in mind to offer.” Nat chewed on her bottom lip as she left the suggestion lingering in between them.

”If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you were trying to seduce me with that offer.” Toto expected her to claim that she was just joking and to walk away from the suggestion. Proclaim that she had just been joking and that the rising sexual tension in between them up to this point had been a figment of his imagination.

Instead, Natalia stood on her tip toes and tipped her head upwards until her lips were close to his. Just a breath’s reach.

She held his gaze. “What if I am?”

The energy had immediately shifted. Toto did not give her a verbal agreement as the door closed behind the both of them. He turned her around so that her back was touching his chest. Natalia’s moan vibrated in her throat as he moved her hair out of the way of her right shoulder. A sigh left her as his mouth touched her skin. His hands pulled her tucked in jersey out of her skirt until he was able to lay his hands onto her bare skin beneath the knitted fabric.

His hand clutching onto her top, he instructed Natalia to strip out of her skirt. And in quick succession, her clothes were on the floor.

“Fuck.” Toto said as he swallowed his thirst. If it wasn’t for the fact that her panties had been already soaked, the way his eyes roved hungrily over her body would have had her gushing more than she already was.

Natalia enjoyed his reaction to her. His lust was palpable as she unhooked her bra from her chest and let it join her clothes on the floor. She then hooked her thumbs into the sides of her thongs but before Nat could do anything else, Toto grabbed a hold of her wrists.

“No. Get on the bed.”

As her knees touched the duvet, Toto stood behind her as he dragged his fingers down the length of her spine before both of his hands dug into her ass cheeks, parting them softly. The cool air touched her nether lips which caused her to lightly gasp.

“Oh!” Natalia whimpered as he roughly handled her body. She was now on her back with a shirtless Toto hovering above her. He kissed her with all his might, with all of his pent up desire translating into the way that his lips modded over her. She opened her mouth to the intrusion of his sweet tongue laced with the wine of dinner into her mouth. Natalia dug her nails into his back as the kiss deepened. She wrapped her leg around his waist as she tried to anchor herself as his hardening erection pressed against her lower stomach.

Toto’s hands moved away from her hips until he was cupping the back of her neck, pulling her close until her teeth were sinking into his bottom lip and she was pulling it into her mouth. Natalia gasped into Toto’s mouth as he pressed his lips harder into hers before sucking on her tongue.

She couldn’t stay still as he continued to kiss her like this. Her hips rotated forward, trying to to create some type of friction to ease the ache residing deep in the pit of her stomach.

“Let me taste you.” Toto mumbled against her lips. His voice was as heavy with arousal as his cock that was pressing into her. Not waiting for her answer, she struggled to catch her breath as he pulled her panties down the length of her shapely legs. When the fabric was over his shoulder, her legs instinctively parted and Toto was rewarded by the sight of her drenched cunt.

“I knew you’d be soaked. You kept squirming in your seat at dinner.” His words shocked her a little but she wasn’t rattled at his observation. Toto ran his finger along her slit and without breaking their intenseful gaze, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked his finger clean

”So sweet. Just as I thought you would be.” With her left knee hooked into his arm, he buried his face in between her thighs as he gave her lazy strokes of his tongue against her clit. Natalia gasped as her back arched off the bed as he continued giving her languid strokes of his tongue, which was moving up and down the length of her slit. Toto was eating her pussy with so much intention, it sent shocks of pleasure up her spine.

His movements were meticulously calculated, every time that he did something that garnered a reaction out of her, Toto played on that until Natalia was gasping for air. He licked, pulled and sucked on her pussy until she was clawing at the sheets beneath her trembling body.

”Oh shit!” She gasped as he covered her now sensitive nub with his tongue and softly pushed to fingers inside of her, sliding them in and out of her, increasing the speed and pressure of his movements until he felt Nat’s thighs begin to quake on each side of his head.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Natalia cursed as she felt a familiar pressure mount in her lower abdomen. She tried to jerk away from him but Toto kneaded his free hand into her thigh, trapping her in place as he became more insistent to drink from her. He flicked his fingers against her spot, his tongue danced on her clit.

Then she exploded into his mouth.

Her legs trapped his body in between her thighs as her body twitched with each wave passing through her. Natalia’s head was still in the clouds as she finally relaxed to set him free. His hands trailed back up the length of her body and kneaded her breasts as his kisses followed up until his lips were against hers once more.

His lust clouded his eyes, Drinking from her, bringing her to climax, made him more ravenous. He wanted to devour her. The intention to do so very much made clear as he haphazardly threw his trousers and boxer briefs off. He held her hips as she tried to calm himself enough to let her reach for the strip of condoms that were on the bedside table.

He couldn’t put it on quickly enough as Natalia placed kisses on his chin and her hands on his back.

Toto sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he raised Nat’s leg to his shoulder before he finally made his move and sank into her pussy. Just as the tip breached her entrance, they both lost their breath due to the feeling of being connected.

“Baby.” She exhales as he completes the stroke by thrusting all the way forward and holding himself there.

“I know schatz. I know.” He groaned into her ear.

After fantasising about this very moment, for months on end, Toto concluded that nothing was better than the real thing. Yet somehow his mind couldn't comprehend what was happening. All that he could think about was how soft she was.

She was so soft. So sweet. So warm. So tight, warm and deliciously wet.

She fit him like a glove and he could feel as much as he could through the protective sleeve. Toto moved slightly which caused Nat to let out a cry.

“Please move. Please.” She whimpered into his ear.

He soon found a rhythm of slow , methodic strokes as he folded her body into itself. Her silk press began to revert back to its natural curls, the longer he worked her body into a sweat. Natalia’s lips parted with a sigh as he placed her other leg onto his shoulder and hooked his arms beneath hers and held onto her shoulders.

”Oh my god!” Natalia struggled for breath as his body slammed against the back of her thighs. The sexy sounds of their pleasure reverberated through the room.

”That’s it isn’t it schatz? That’s the spot.” He taunted her as he hammered his tip against your walls. He grinned as he saw the internal struggle to conjure up a response. He didn’t tease her too much though.

Toto himself was failing to contain his restraint from just how tightly Natalia was clutching onto him with each stroke. It was making him lightheaded as she threatened to drown him with just how soaked she was. He felt himself slipping into mindless pleasure as his thrusts became harder and more frantic.

It was only when he felt Nat’s leg beginning to tremble against his shoulders and his stomach began to tighten did Toto slow down. Natalia whined as she shifted her hips up to tempt him.

However, he didn’t fall for it.

Instead, he let her legs fall away from his shoulders but he still made sure that they were wrapped around his waist. His forearms dropped on either side of her head as his chest pressed into hers. Natalia’s hardened nipples tickled his skin as he rolled his hips as deep as she possibly could take him. He coupled his slow, deep thrusts with a circular motion, making sure that he touched every part of her that he could.

He hummed softly as he drew little cries from Natalia. He swallowed her moans and every sound that he could. They were only his - just for the night. For however long she would allow.

Natalia could feel resolve disappear from his frantic kisses and touches. The slapping of his thighs against her skin echoed in the room. The contact pinched at their skin in a bittersweet manner, the harsher the pounding became. But Nat took it all in stride.

His hand around her neck was the last straw.

She exploded around him without warning.

“That’s it baby.” He kissed the underside of her ear.

“Cum all over this dick.”Her teeth sunk into the skin of his shoulder as she let the orgasm ride her body. The repeated contraction of her walls pulled Toto down even further.

“Fuck!” He hissed in Nat’s ear as her cunt tightly squeezed his dick until he filled the condom with his seed.

They stayed in the same position for a moment before he pulled out of her. Nat sighed as she watched him dispose of the condom and pull his underwear back up his legs. His eyes followed him as he entered the bathroom and then came out with a wet cloth.

After grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge, he came back to the bed and cleaned her up in silence. Natalia sighed with a smile on her face, loving the way his hands were handling her so delicately as if he wasn’t roughly gripping her flesh as he fucked into her minutes ago.

”Drink your water.” He mumbled before placing a kiss onto her thigh. Natalia giggled as she reached for the water bottle.

“Yes sir.” She teased as she took a gulp of the refreshing liquid.

“What time is your flight tomorrow?” He asked as he began to place kisses on her torso before stopping to take a nipple into his mouth. Natalia gasped as her eyes flattered close to enjoy the feel of his warm mouth sucking on her nipple like she had been sucking on her clit earlier on in the night.

“3pm why?” Nat said, only able to answer when he moved his attention to her other nipple.

”I want to take you again … and again …” He spoke as he began to tower over her body. “And again. Until you’re so spent that I’m all you think about for days to come.”

His lips touched hers again as his body pushed her back into the disheveled sheets …

PRESENT DAY

”I want to take you again … and again … and again. Until you’re so spent that I’m all you think about for days to come.”

Those words were now haunting her as she sat at her desk. Of all the things Toto Wolff had ever said and done to her, these particular words haunted her the most.

Because of just how devastatingly true they were. No man after that had come close to how he had made her feel that night. A couple had come close but it was never the same.

It could never be the same.

When she left Malaysia the following afternoon, it had not occurred to her that it would be the last time that she would see Toto. Both of their respective careers kept them busy. The previous season of Formula One had overwhelmed him. The last year had not been kind to the team. The sport had not been kind to the team and it was beginning to show in the numbers.

All of that had led to this moment. Natalia was in her office with the reports of the team’s previous financial year and the CEO asking her for an incredible favour.

“It’ll only be for a couple of months.” He said.

“Six months is hardly a couple, Chris.” Chris Stevenson chuckled at the statement.

“You’re right but I need someone I can trust to go over there and oversee things.”

“And why couldn’t Tomlinson do it?” Oliver Tomlinson was the current Chief Operating Officer of the company and from the last she heard, Oliver and Toto were friends.

“You’re better with numbers. Two, you did Physics so I’m sure you understand the technical jargon better.”

Natalia frowned at the reasonsing. “I did Physics when I was like eighteen.”

“Doesn’t matter. Plus Wolff only agreed to do this if it was you.”

”Why?”

“I don’t know. A deep respect for you I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You guess?!” She sassed back and placed her hands on her waist.

”You know what I mean! Look, why are you opposing this? Do I need to know something?”

”No!” Natalia knew that she had said that a little too quickly for her liking. “I’m not opposing it for what you think. You’re basically asking me to audit the team just because they had a couple of bad years.”

“Two bad years with no titles, two bad cars, a shift in leadership and a few lost sponsors. All of that translates to a bad investment. And a bad investment means no money and no money means-.’

”Okay! I got the message.” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in surrender.

“Wolff is not happy about this and quite frankly I don’t care. We need to get to the bottom of this before the season begins.”

Natalia was going to be Toto’s boss for six months. She could barely think of him without remembering the way he had ravished her that night. Now she had to work with him everyday for the next half year.

Fuck me. She thought to herself

[randybutternubber]

I’ve noticed a distinct lack of love for the kid from the first ep of TSON who helped noone and the workers, so here’s some art with some HCS (Kid on the left, I’ll just call them goo kid, worker on the right)

Random goo kid HCS

Goo kid fell into a vat of some weird ass shit shadow goop in the factory

They use this to their advantage to basically blend in with the workers

Goo kid is around 6 to 7 years old and was relatively young when they were taken to the nowhere

Because of the factory having a lot of darker areas and the goop messsing with their eyes, they don’t have great vision and they’re nearly blind in one eye. They also have some hearing issues due to basically getting exposed to loud ass factory equipment constantly. Due to this, they’re very tactile and they often try to hold the hands or touch the faces of other children, but it’s often met with rejection due to often getting mistaken as a worker and usually not properly asking to do so. Their sense of smell is also pretty fried

Goo kid is mostly non-verbal and has a very limited vocabulary as a result of being taken so young and spending most of their time around the workers who don’t speak

The workers often try to give them tools like hammers and wrenches, thinking that they’re another worker

Even if a worker realizes they’re not one of them, they tend to not be very aggressive towards them because they’re very used to them being there. They’re mainly aggressive when goo kid is with another child or gets too close to the machinery

Goo kid’s clothes were taken from a worker. Most of them wear workers overalls, but it’s very common for the overalls to be heavily damaged as the shadow goop stuff isn’t that good when on fabric and they’re often torn by machinery

Because of lack of exposure to light, goo kid has pretty pale skin, which is also very sensitive to the sun, along either their eyes

Worker head canons

Workers act smarter when alone/in small groups and show a lot more individual personality as well. When they’re in groups, the hive mind kind of takes over and they become completely engrossed in keeping the factory running. This is why they tend to act quite dull/stupid when together, but the individual workers seemed to stalk/observe Noone and goo kid before striking

Like nomes, workers do hoard items, often in their pockets/pouches or tool belts if they have one, but they also like to hoard items in their own little nooks and crannies



They sometimes accidentally (or purposefully) steal each other’s tools while working, and yes, they will brawl over a wrench, but they often don’t notice/don’t know who took it

Workers can coalesce into far bigger shadow amalgamations, but it can only occur in very low light conditions, and only if the situation is bad

They have great eyesight in the dark and can see a ton of detail when up close, but otherwise, their vision is quite poor. Their hearing, on the other hand, is excellent, and like birds when they call, their ears have a sort of shadow muscle something something like that that closes when near loud machinery. This is another reason why goo kid doesnt talk besides being primarily non verbal and why they stop noone from speaking. Their hearing also helps with noticing if a machine needs fixing

Workers walk on their toes and their feet are rarely flat on the ground. This, coupled with their claws causes them to have a unique sounding footstep

Their toes/feet are very flexible, allowing them to scramble around and climb quite well

Their arms are proportionally longer since they often work with tools that are quite large for them

Workers can scramble around on all fours quite effectively

Some of them have exposed teeth

They often grab goo kid/lead him “back to the group” when they find them far away from where most of the workers are. It makes exploring difficult, but if goo kid gets stuck/lost, it can be very helpful

Goo kid is a bit scared of the workers, but because they tend to just think they’re another worker, they aren’t absolutely terrified

Singular workers are generally more playful and curious. They’re also more likely to notice something is different about goo kid. They poke them and sometimes try to apply some of the shadow goop to their face thinking that there’s something wrong with him