#but she would rather do that than kill humans

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I thought I wasn't going to have strong opinions about the Laios-Shuro fight, but...

Laios was right about this! Yes, they had 2 physical fights first, but it's important to note that Laios was right about this!

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^ -man who would literally kill to stay in this room and observe this private conversation.

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Sir, your unfaltering little wide-eyed, amiable smile while seriously considering topics that are obviously un-smile-worth has charmed me utterly. I wish to study you like an climate-entomologist yearns for the butterfly that causes storms.

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She seems fine.

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If I start screencapping Laios's and Marcille's faces in this fight, I will never stop because literally every panel is devasting.

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Kuro has done distinctly the most damage so far this fight, just stabbing and gnawing, and I think we should recognize and appreciate that fact.

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I really miss the animation we got of Rin's lightning blast slicing narrowly past Laios.

I love how fast, if reluctantly, Laios accepts that if - not, that Falin is a true "monster", inhuman and hurting people relentlessly and unapologetically, and thus she needs to be killed before she kills them, like any other monster. I also love that Marcille doesn't accept this. Characters!

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+1 to qualification to kingship! Kabru is one again surprised (you can tell by how he's not smiling) (though this might also be due to the significant injuries he just took).

I do have several emotions about how Falin immediately yanks away and kills Kabru, without touching Laios. That's her brother!!

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I really like this little cluster because it says to me that Shuro still has very good "do what Marcille says when she abruptly shouts magic-related directions in combat" instincts. He's a mirror of the "You're already on the Christmas card, buddy" meme - more like, "You're still on the Christmas card." Just like Namari: no one really stops being fond of, and battle companions with, these weirdos.

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I think the most painful part of this probably is that Marcille isn't certain. Maybe this IS her fault. At minimum, she knows she might have mixed the dragon's soul into Falin's, which enabled this even if it didn't create it. But she can't 100% rule out the possibility that it's more her fault than that - which is, of course, the absolute worst thing to say to all of these people looking at her violently askance for using dark magic.

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yeahhhhhh "Lunatic Magician" REALLY lacks the oomph of "Mad Mage"

ANGRY LAIOS! It's such a rare expression on him, it's exciting to see.

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Yesss look at my man Chilchuck use available tools in his environment and save this little goober who thinks it's cool to resent adults.

I really like how they show the social consequences of dark magic. Much beyond Shuro's anger: the other mages are now shutting Marcille down, especially where resurrection magic is concerned. She's made herself untrusted by her peers, whether or not the magic she used on Falin is truly "evil."

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I really enjoy the, like, narratively obligatory, not actually real (well, maybe to Rin) "will they-won't they" between Kabru and Rin. In the story that this isn't, where Kabru is the protagonist with his quirky gang of found family who are helping him save the island and prevent another bloodbath like in his angsty backstory, she IS the One (Human) Female on the Team who is obviously his love interest - often the first to challenge him, battle mage rather than healer ie a Strong Female Character who nonetheless doesn't use unfeminine brute force, forced by happenstance to kiss...

Alas! Kabru is not the protagonist of this story, so Rin shall remain disappointed.

Also this montage of people healing and reuniting while in the background Laios and Shuro whale on each other remains SO funny. Flawless comedic timing.

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Alright, hot take time: I feel like all the debate I've seen about the Shuro/Laios fight depict it as revealing the friendship basically shattered, and never real in the first place. Whereas I'm mostly warmed by how real it clearly was despite everything that just happened?

Shuro is operating on no food and less sleep, desperate to save the woman he idolizes without truly understanding her loves, who is now apparently a monster who nearly slaughtered his most loyal followers. In the past like 2 weeks, Laios has: watched his sister die to save his life (his little sister, whom he is supposed to protect), walked headfirst into a nigh-unwinnable fight to get her back, held her skull in his hands, got her back and held her in his arms, lost her again about 6 hours later in an even more unwinnable fight, which was proven even more unwinnable when the Mage twisted the dungeon itself against them, saw her again but as a murderous monster now (which might be due to the magic he agreed to use to resurrect her), swiftly and sternly resigned himself to fighting and potentially killing her (his little sister! whom he is supposed to protect!), had her recognize him (and no one else!) despite her monstrosity, watched her be killed (again!) in part thanks to him distracting her, except it didn't work and then she fled.

This is an immature, ignoring-immediate-needs (ie, food, healing) knock-down drag-out fight between two men at the absolute ends of their ropes, who, sure, have built-up resentments against each other and the world, and an inciting incident pushing them over the edge - but mostly neither of them can punch in the face the fact that they can't save Falin. So they punch each other instead.

I won't even address the prologue to the fight, where Laios tells him about the black magic and Shuro promptly tries to strangle him then levels a sword at him. Kabru already nailed that: Shuro was worried about Falin - that the magic had hurt her, that the social consequences would be worse. Laios knew this enough that he didn't fight back, then. But now?

The first shove is Shuro demanding, Don't you fucking DARE give me false hope.

I cannot emphasize enough how hard I would also slap someone for suggesting that I wasn't taking the death and monsterization of my younger sibling seriously.

Shuro knows it, too. He doesn't respond to this, he just punches, and Laios punches back. Shuro doesn't speak again until Laios knocks him all the way down, and

Shuro is at his absolute depth. The lowest point he (feels that he) can go. He cannot save Falin. He's shamed himself as a leader and heir by getting his people killed (they got better, but that's beside the point.) He's been beaten in hand-to-hand combat by this idiot northern peasant. He lets down his guard and pride enough to mutter this self-deprecation aloud...and the idiot northern peasant hears, compounding every shame - and it's infuriating especially because he doesn't even hear properly, just like he never hears properly - he's so frustrating in his friendly but oblivious constant irritation and THIS, Shuro can still be furious about, to avoid his grief/hopelessness/self-loathing/shame. This, he can still fight about!

So he does.

They're both wrong in this fight. They're both right. Laios was consistently inconsiderate; knowing this about himself - because it's not like by his early 20s he didn't know that he didn't Get people the way most people Get people - he should've made more of an effort, and picked up any of the hints Shuro was laying down. Shuro was too caught up in his own pride and out-of-place manners: when it was clear that Laios wasn't going to pick up on even the strongest "hint", he should've said something plainly instead of just letting his resentment build until he was effectively lying to Laios about, if not their entire friendship, certainly the shape of it.

But they were friends. They are friends. This isn't the posture or conversation of two guys who don't like each other.

It's two guys who are still, in fact, fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally - but they just got rid of a lot of extra, furious, helpless energy, so they're finally satisfied to just sit. Their posture is relaxed and casual; their conversation straightforward and companionable, if serious.

This is two guys who've sat like this many time at a campfire, in just these poses. Who've kept watch together late at night and stayed awake by talking.

Laios cares about Falin more than anyone in the world, and even after the words and blows they just exchanged, he's still willing to put Shuro's suit to her. Shuro didn't tell Falin he was interested in her until he proposed to her, but he's telling it all to Laios. Admittedly, this is because Laios is, Shuro assumes, the closest he'll ever get to being able to tell it all to Falin...but still. And he admits vulnerability, which he clearly wouldn't have done before, even to his most loyal and loved companions as they urged him to eat and sleep.

Yeah, they're buddies. If I had to describe it, I'd say: their relationship was built on unsteady, false foundations, but they built something sturdy on it anyway, and the sturdy thing survives even when the foundations shake and re-settle.

Lol at Shuro. "I'm going to report you to the local authorities for your crimes because it's the right thing to do. But if you survive, I'll totally use my power and influence to help you flee the country, and live peacefully on my estate beyond where an extradition treaty can reach you."

[dragon-watcher03]

I like when ppl write their own version of mk intros, so I shall request those. I don't have any specific idea for reader's backstory so I'd love to see what you come up with o/

Thx for the motivation, you gave me a brilliant idea-

Mk1 x Gn! Doom God! Reader

Note: Reader uses mini scythes connected via chains as a Krucible and has armour more like those from Halo.

Ft. Liu Kang, Johnny Cage, Raiden, Kitana, Shang Tsung

Liu Kang: You are a God in your realm?

You: I'd rather go with Slayer, but yes.

Liu Kang: The fact that your realm's Seraphims see you as nothing but a weapon... doesn't sit right with me.

You: Why? It is my sole purpose.

Liu Kang: Slaying demons for many decades must have been challenging.

You: Less challenging, more soul-draining.

You: I do not intend to stay here long, Lord Liu Kang.

Liu Kang: At least grant me one last spar?

You: There is another like me, but he is a lot less talkative.

Liu Kang: I have no doubt he isn't as honorable as you.

You: The humans in this world are very different than the ones back at home...

Liu Kang: How so?

Johnny Cage: So, what exactly are you the God of?

You: I am no God, but people have no better words to describe me.

Johnny Cage: C'mon, you and your buddy would totally fit in a first-person shooter!

You: I have better demons to fight than Paparazzi, Cage.

Johnny Cage: So, this buddy of yours, he anything other than just your partner in crime?

You: Even if we were, I wouldn't tell you.

You: I have no time for trivial things like "love".

Johnny Cage: Sheesh, talk about workaholic.

You: I know what you're going to ask, and no, you can't hold my Krucible.

Johnny Cage: Y'know if you weren't such a buzzkill, I'd totally tap that.

You: Do you get anything out of flirting with me?

Johnny Cage: The possibility of courting a Goddess/God.

Raiden: Your people see you as a God?

You: Yeah, they even made a whole religion based on us.

Raiden: This other "Doom God" you speak of, he sounds like a ruthless man.

You: Oh trust me, he is.

Raiden: Is it foolish of me to request a spar with a demon-killing God?

You: Don't worry, I'll be gentle.

You: That amulet you have is fascinating...

Raiden: As is that weapon of yours.

You: Ashrah is a Demon? She looks so human compared to the ones back at home.

Raiden: Whatever monsters you deal with at home, I can assure you she is nothing like them.

You: Are you sure you want to meet him?

Raiden: When you speak so highly of him, how can I not?

Kitana: The war you fight sounds worse than Outworlds.

You: I pray this universe will never experience such a war...

Kitana: I feel like you and my sister would get along well.

You: I take from the way you say that, that it's a compliment.

Kitana: The humans of your world call you "Ruin God"?

You: A synonym for Doom, which relates the name back to Doom God.

You: I must say, you were right about getting along with Mileena.

Kitana: The blood coating your armour seems to prove so.

You: I have been alive for so long with the mind of a human, that I started to forget who my parents were...

Kitana: I'm... sorry to hear that, Ruin.

You: I hoped to not get attached to any of you to make my departure easier.

Kitana: laughs Guess that didn't work out so well, did it?

Shang Tsung: Well, aren't you a fine specimen.

You: Back off you cretin, or you'll see why we are called Gods.

Shang Tsung: I could set you and your partner free from the shackles of being weapons for your world.

You: And be yours instead? I'd rather serve the Seraphims.

Shang Tsung: We could have been such a powerful couple, you and I.

You: I already have a stronger and better suitor, sorcerer.

You: You are worse than the demons back at home...

Shang Tsung: Oh~ feeling feisty now are we?

You: You are playing with forces beyond your power, sorcerer.

Shang Tsung: Then let's play~

You: You look horrible. Did you finally meet him?

Shang Tsung: Tch, how you two have such power for mere humans is beyond my comprehension.

[saltwatersweets]

i like to imagine that sometime in between ep7 and ep8, charlie takes vaggie to cannibal town to help train some of the residents who will fight in the upcoming extermination, and while visiting vaggie sees the kid she spared and maybe gets to have a proper conversation with him and/or his family

[inkskinned]

it's because the bear wouldn't kill me just for being a woman. the bear doesn't kill me for fun. the bear can be shouted at, and will leave me alone. the bear won't make a tiktok complaining about how i crossed to the other side of the path when i saw him coming. if a bear kills me, it's just being a bear: it cannot understand logic. it is not acting out of malice - just fear or hunger.

bell hooks once wrote about how porches might be the only outside space left for women - it is still the domain of the house while it is also outside-but-safe. when i am in the woods, i am in the bear's home, and he has a right to defend his property. outside spaces - anywhere at night, certain parks in the day - those are often implicitly "owned" by men. i cannot explain the feeling of knowing when you have entered a man's "territory." you walk into a place and just know you are in their space. you get a sick sense - you're in danger.

the other day a group of about 8 men were fooling around in the woods while i walked my dog. i had to go around, take the extra 3 miles just to avoid them. it's okay, i like walking. this wasn't even a #feminism moment. it was just a tuesday.

what a plain and easy question. only one of the situations is seen as a tragic accident. i would rather die and have a park bench erected in my honor rather than have my family questioned about why they let me, an adult, walk in the woods in the first place when i should really be at home in the kitchen.

i worked in retail and food service. i have had women say and do absolutely heinous and abusive things to me - not because i was a woman, but because i was there, and they were angry. the way men treated me when angry was different - it was because i was a woman. you can always feel the difference, how there's an undertone of i'd hurt you worse if i could get away with it. i keep seeing people try to cite stupid statistics. why is there always a strange rage whenever women agree on things? like men can argue their way out of our lived experiences? it isn't a buzzfeed quiz - which of these traumas are you? 10 super cute ways not to fear strange men.

i have actually (thrice!) seen a bear in the wild, by the way. i died each time, obviously, and am a ghost writing to you. (it was scary but completely and utterly fine). the second encounter was a black bear with her cub. she looked at me like - do we have to do this or are we good? my dog was busy sniffing a bush, completely nonreactive. i felt like i was in a sitcom: feminist poet reacts - does she actually mean she'd choose the bear? my only thought was - she's so beautiful. her paws are massive.

and there's a part of me that feels the rage spinning out in a corner. why do we have to come up with quippy little comments in order to teach men empathy. would you rather die in a car accident or due to a mugging? and would you rather your house burn down due to an electrical fire or due to arson? gee willikers - it's almost like we're human people, and want to risk the accident versus the intention.

i would rather my last thought be oh shit, a bear rather than i'm a person too. why doesn't that matter? why don't you care?

[torpublishinggroup]

"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune

(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)

1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.

2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.

3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.

4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.

5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.

6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!

Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.

[dutybcrne]

Monster, Treasure Hoarder, or Fatui, it’s always the same–Hu Tao would hold a tiny, private little funeral ceremony for them upon ending their lives in times it’s the only way out or if she otherwise wounds them enough to leave their fate unavoidable. She will even choose to stay with them in the case of the latter, keeping them company as they breathe their last. It has gotten her several reactions from them, particularly the Fatui she’s fought–defensive walls, outright hostility and curses on her name, questions of why she would do this for an enemy.

She explains it the same every time: that she believes everyone deserves a proper sendoff, leaving them without one the cruelest form of punishment. Every time, she follows it up with apologies, saying the graves she leaves would have to be unmarked lest they be desecrated, unless they are willing to give her their names and ranks to better send mementos of them to their people back in Snezhnaya/their homelands or ( if they are willing enough ) to locations of their nearest comrades so they, too, may mourn them. Anything to make the inevitable grief of their family and friends a little easier, and to ensure they are properly remembered.

[lurochar]

Well-Fed

It isn't wise to harass Alastor's assistant. A man learns this the hard way.

Human Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Violence, unknowing cannibalism

--

What a pleasant night.

“F-fuck, please – what do you want?! I’ll… I’ll do anything!” The man pleaded, sniveling as he tried to crawl back, “J-just don’t kill me!”

What lovely begging.

Alastor hummed, eyeing the fallen man as he wondered in which way he should slaughter him that would best satisfy him and his current needs.

Should he just blow the man’s brain out? It’s not like he needed his head for anything – nothing really too edible there. It always made such a mess.

Maybe cut the man’s throat and make it a quick one? It always did give him a thrill to watch the life fade from one’s eyes and the absolute terror on their faces when there was nothing to be done. 

Possibly chop the man’s limbs off and watch him slowly bleed to death? He would probably put up too much of a fight and ruin too much of his meat and it would take far too long.

“Do you remember me?” Alastor asked, causing the man’s eyes to finally look at his face rather than the rifle in hand, “Or actually, do you remember the woman at the radio station earlier today?”

“Y-yeah, ‘course I remember you!” The man simpered, as if sucking up would actually save his life, “You’re Alastor Hartfelt, right? That radio host who’s the talk of the town right now?” His face twitched, “So, why you doing this?! Don’t fucking tell me…!” His eyes widened when he finally figured it out.

He wasn’t getting out of here alive.

“I asked, ‘do you remember the woman at the radio station earlier today’?” Alastor didn’t flinch in the least as he pulled his axe from the holster at his hip, swinging it down in a smooth motion, and easily severing the man’s hand.

He was screaming now, of course, in complete shock at the brutal action and he tried to scramble to his feet to run for his life, but Alastor already had his rifle at the ready, easily shooting him in the foot before he could do anything.

“I’d rather not repeat myself for a third time,” Alastor looked on in a bit of distaste when the man vomited, heaving and twitching around in agony. “It is why you are here, after all.”

The man didn’t answer or didn’t even hear him as he curled up into a sad little ball, causing Alastor to sigh in slight disappointment that his hunt was already over, but preparing meat took time and he had already invited you over to dinner the next night, so it was fine.

“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Alastor knew he was talking to himself at this point as he knelt down as he reached for his knife from his belt, “I’d rather you not treat women like objects that you can use whenever you feel like it. Far too many men are like this. Imagine how Y/N felt when you cornered her in my radio station and groped her like a mindless animal? Perhaps as helpless as you are now? In any case, I do not tolerate any disrespect of such kind, especially with my lovely little assistant.”

He was rambling, he knew, he always did get like this when it came to you and your wellbeing.

“I’ve spent too much time on you,” Alastor tightened his grip on his knife, “I have a meal to prepare. I do hope you taste better than you look, my good chum.”

He hoped you liked Jambalaya.

–

“This is amazing!”

Alastor smiled, feeling absolutely pleased at your joyful expression as you took a bite of his cooking, clearly delighting in the flavour, “It’s my mother’s recipe, you see.” His eyes flashed, a dark satisfaction building up in him, “I’m glad you like it. I thought the meat might have been of too low quality.”

“No, no!” You went to reassure him, “I’m nothing fancy!” You eagerly took another bite. “You are a very good cook. Your mother must have taught you well. She must be very proud.”

“I would like to think so.” Alastor’s smile softened briefly at the thought, “I do try to be nothing less than a true gentleman. I believe my mother would have liked you very much so. I would like to share more of her recipes with you, if I may be so bold to ask?”

You flushed, looking down at your food before peering back up to Alastor with a shy smile, “I would like that too.” You did not recognize the mania behind Alastor’s eyes as you continued to eat his cooking.

“I’ll keep you well-fed, my dear.”

[conelluwrites]

the red means i love you

Reader/Doppelgänger Francis (main focus on the doppelgänger aspect) (reader goes by she/her and is described with vaginal terms)

posted on my AO3

word count: 2.6k

title from The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley

Contains: monster fucking (doppelgänger fucking), headcanon design for non-disguised doppels, barbed dick, breeding, and blood drinking

You let the wrong one in, but maybe it's not as bad as it seems when you invite him back to your apartment.

“Mmm…”  The voice sounds uncanny, too similar to Francis with the slightest hint of a purr that the tired milkman would never express, “I’m rather thankful that you let me in earlier, you know?”  His uniform is clean and tidy, well put together in a way that Francis would never be able to achieve due to his early morning risings.  His hair is just barely out of place.  Things that no one would notice-- things that make her wish that she had called Francis’ apartment to see if he was home.

“W-Wha-!”  The doorman stumbles back in fear, causing her to bump her back into the chest of the doppelgänger who all too readily wraps his arms around her waist.  One of his hands trails down her rigid arm and grabs the hand of hers that is trembling its way towards the phone.  Even if he didn’t intervene, the D.D.D. would not arrive in time to prevent any damages, he was in the safety room.  His fingertips are inhuman, too sharp but not yet undisguised, as they intertwine with her own to prevent her from dialing the number she memorized so easily.

“Shhh, shhh…  There’s no reason for you to be afraid.”  He coos, brushing his nose against the exposed flesh of her neck.  “No need to scream, no need to squirm, no need to put up a fight…”  His voice is velvety but now lacks the tiredness the real Francis carries.  It’s not surprising that he’s giving up his disguise piece by piece, she assumes that it must take some level of effort to be so near-perfectly disguised and she knows at this point she’s utterly fucked.  “I could take you away from this annoying position forever if you want.  No pesky D.D.D. agents, no more anxiety from our kind, no more living in fear.  Sounds pretty nice, hm?”  His free hand goes to hold her chin, his sharp thumb slightly digging into her jawline.

“But I gotta protect my neighbors.  My job-- sitting here and looking at everyone and their documents, it might suck at times but it keeps everyone safe.”  She says, her voice trembling.  Her throat is bone dry from fear, her chest aches from the uneven breathing leaving her slightly open lips.

“Oh, my dear, that’s such a noble sentiment.”  The doppelgänger sighs dramatically before shaking his head.  He spins her around in his grasp, the hand that was holding hers goes to her waist.  His fingers trace along her jawline, making sure to keep a gentle, but firm, grip on her so she cannot try to escape.  There’s a bright grin on his face, his teeth too white to be human.  “But how many times have they let you down?  Surely they have failed you before.  People are fickle creatures; they don’t appreciate what they have until it’s gone.  I promise to protect you, sweetheart, just let me stay with you tonight, hm?”

Her mind races, so many thoughts of her own death and the death of her neighbors.  “How do I know you won’t hurt me?”  The answer is obvious-- if the doppel were going to hurt her, he already would have.  He’s stronger than her, stronger than any human and she’s still in his grasp.  If he wanted to maim her, he would have already.  “You doppelgängers just want to kill and eat us.”

“Ah, you misunderstand me, darling!  I could never harm a hair on your lovely head.”  The doppelgänger earnestly insists.  His thumb brushes gently across her cheek, trying to so lovingly convince her.  “All I want is to hear more stories about your day and listen to those sweet little fears of yours…  And yes, perhaps indulge myself in some delicious blood as well.”  He’s whispering intimately, as if they’re a pair of lovers.  The grip on her waist tightens slightly but remains mostly gentle, it’s almost comforting despite the sharp nails against her shirt.  “C’mon… please trust me.”

“But I-”  her voice dies out the longer she allows herself to fall into the illusion of mutual trust.

“It’s okay, my love,” he murmurs understandingly, “don’t overthink things, hm?”  He kisses her temple tenderly, a perfect imitation of love between humans.  His eyes flicker towards the phone, allowing even himself to dream of a different world where he could whisk her away and keep her all to himself.  “Let’s just go for now, let’s go somewhere private where no one can bother us.”

She relents easily, tearing her gaze from his face and allowing it to travel down the white uniform before making its way back up to his face.  “My apartment is on the first floor.  We… We can go there together.  We don’t have to worry about others seeing us, everyone else is in for the night.”

Francis’ grin grows even more, his canines growing sharper than any humans can be naturally, “That sounds perfect.”  He sounds appreciative, leading him gently to the door to exit the safety room.  The walk to the apartment is short.  As the apartment door closes, the intensity changes slightly; he is watching her carefully while also taking the new space.  “Nice place.  So cozy…”

“Thank you….” She murmurs. “I figured it’s safer for you to be here than anywhere else in the complex.”

Francis’ doppelgänger hums thoughtfully before nodding in agreement.  After the brief exchange, he takes the opportunity to explore the small apartment, touching things lightly as if trying to understand their purpose and history though touch alone.  Every movement exudes confidence in his decision-making process, evaluating the potential of each object.  “You’re so brave, you know.  C’mere.”

She walks over to him hesitantly and stands there.  The doppelgänger is taller than her.  Despite it all, since he’s imitating one of her neighbors that she’s rather fond of, she feels herself relaxing.  He wraps an arm around her waist casually, pulling her close while leaning down until their hands nearly touch.  He inhales deeply, enjoying the warmth that a human being brings.  He drawings circles on his back with his free hand.  He continues to lean down slowly -- closer and closer to her neck.  Her breath hitches as his nose finally meets her neck.  Her hands meet his waist and tighten slightly, crinkling his shirt.  Adrenaline is racing through her body, making her tremble slightly but she refuses to pull away.  The way the doppelgänger rubes and nuzzles his nose into the crook of her neck is the sweetest thing she’s experienced recently.

The doppelgänger lets out a satisfied rumble, savoring the sensation of her trembling beneath his touch.  If anyone saw them now, they’d assume it was two lovers locked in passion.  His lips brush against the skin he finds lightly before he stops abruptly.  “Promise me something -- promise that you won’t run away.”

“...”  She considers his words carefully.  Every primal instinct in her is begging her to run, to get away as fast as she can.  But she hasn't and, to be honest to herself, she doesn’t want to.  She’s rather content staying like this, being in his arms with his face buried in her neck.  She know he could bite her, sink sharp teeth in her neck and finish her life in less than a second, but she finds herself trusting that he won’t.  “ I promise.”

“Good girl.”  He praises softly, finally giving into temptation and pressing his teeth gently against her neck.  Not hard enough to yet draw blood, just merely teasing her.  His arm tightens around her as the gravity of her promise fully settles between the pair.  The danger she’s in never fully dissipates but mixes well with the affection he’s showing her.  “You deserve a reward for trusting me.”

“Oh?  Like what?” She asks, her grip on him loosening as her body adapts to the unfamiliar situation.

Francis’ doppelgänger chuckles, the vibrations tickling her neck.  “Don’t fret, just something that will make us both happy.”  With a groan, he allows his disguise to slip further and further, his teeth sharpening.  They puncture her skin ever so slightly, blood trickles immediately out of the small wounds.  With a satisfied hum, he pulls away and licks his lips, allowing blood to pool.  “Just relax, enjoy this moment.”  She struggles out a broken moan; it’s not necessarily painful but it reminds her of how weak and vulnerable she is in the moment, a feeling that is intoxicating.  “Relax.” he murmurs against her skin soothingly.  There was no aggression or hunger driving him, it was just to provide nutrients for him to continue his time with her.  Slowly yet deliberately, he licks up the collected droplets while sucking lightly on the wound.  He alternates between suckling and licking the wounds, moaning.

“Y’gonna leave a hickey on me.” She sighs out, her body relaxing even further.

“Only for me to look at later.”  He promises, his breath hot on her dampened flesh.  The rhythm slows down until it stops altogether and he pulls away.  Slowly and carefully, he raises his gaze to meet hers.  “Now tell me more about those annoying D.D.D. agents.”

“I don’t know much about them, to be honest.  They don’t hang around after the cleaning procedure and they don’t talk to me aside from congratulating me on living another way.”  She says, swiping a bit of her own blood from his lips with his thumb.

“You should know more than that.”  He growls. “We could use your help some day.”

“We?  You want me to help the doppelgängers?”

“Of course.  Someone like you, someone so skilled at calling us out…  You could be helpful in our cause.”

“I don’t believe that’s such a worthy cause…” She murmurs, resting her head against his chest.  His heartbeat is inhuman, too slow to be human, but it’s relaxing.  “Though…”

“Though?  You would be safe -- you’d be part of our family.  Perhaps one day I could introduce you to some of the ones I’m closest to.”

“Mm.”  She weighs his words carefully.  In a disturbing, unacceptable way, it’s almost sweet.  “I suppose that, as long as I’m protected by you, I’d be honored to meet them.  Does that make us mates?”

“Indeed.”  Silence stretches between them for a moment.  “In our world, we share souls upon consummation.”  He stares into her eyes after the statement, gauging her reaction based on his customs.

“Ah, like marriages for humans then?  Do you want to consummate our bond?”

The doppelgänger stiffens slightly at first before relaxing.  “Yes.  But we must proceed cautiously.”

“Why’s that, my love?  Is your genitalia that different?”  She asks, leaning up to nuzzle her nose against his for a moment before pulling away and going to stroke his cheek softly.  The skin is rubbery and like ice against her fingers.

“Hm…  No, not quite.”  There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence, he allows her mind to wander with possibilities.  “Our release is also quite different, I believe.  Is that okay?”

She’s quiet for a moment, allowing herself time to fully comprehend the possibilities ahead of her. “Yes.  I want to be your mate, so please…  mate with me the way doppelgängers do.”  Francis’ doppelgänger feels a surge of triumph.  The transformation starts gradually as he allows himself to rip through his disguise.  The clothes rip and tatter, falling to the ground around him as she lets him go, allowing him to fully transform.  Glistening black scales peek through skin like moonlight reflecting off ocean waves, his fingers grow out to sharp daggers, his arms and legs elongate as his muscles tense.  His teeth barely fit in his mouth, the sharp points poking slightly over his lips.  His cock is impossibly thick and long, tiny barbs lining the sides as it oozes black pre-cum.  He lifts her effortlessly, his hands on her ass as he carries her to her bedroom and places her gently on the bed.

“Lie back.”  He commands quietly, watching every breath he takes with anticipation and hunger.  She lays back, obediently as he hovers over her patiently.  There’s no shame or hesitation in his gaze as his hand travels up her shirt to lift it over her head.  She tugs off her pants, leaving her in her bra and panties.  His gaze is full of pride.  “You’re mine now, my soulmate.”

“You’re perfect.”  She says softly, cupping his face and kissing his monstrous face lovingly.  Her lips meet his rough lips and pointed teeth.  She winces preemptively as his sharp claws make easy work of her panties, tugging on the fabric until it tears away and reveals her glistening sex.  The thick, black sludge lubricates his cock, making it ease into her cunt slowly and easily despite its grand size.  She feels the tiny barbs grow slightly, just enough to dig into her walls to prevent her from squirming away or resisting.

He hisses appreciatively at the compliment and the feeling of her heat enveloping her slowly.  “You’re tight.”  He grunts out raggedly, thrusting deep.  The sensation matches beast-like intensity, every movement echoing throughout the small bedroom.

“Hah, you’re bigger than I expected.  So fuckin’ thick.” She pants out, her cunt swallowing his cock with little resistance.  “I was scared about the bars, but shit…  your cock is so perfect for me.”  The doppelgänger lets out an animalistic moan at her declaration, his thrusts becoming more aggressive and intense.

“That’s it!  Take everything I got!”  He exclaims hoarsely, nails digging into her hips.  “Answer me, would you want children?”  He gasps urgently.  Despite the heaviness of the question he posed, he keeps pushing relentlessly -- seeking assured release.

“I-I-!  Yes!  I want to swell with your young.”  She says lovingly, moaning.

He roars at his words, bowing low to catch her lips.  The kiss is filled with dominance and ownership.  “Perfect.”  He growls into her mouth, shifting positions easily so she’s on top of him.  “Ride me until we’re done.”

She straddles him easing, wincing as the shift in positioning digs his barbs deep into her cunt.  “Fuck, baby…”  She breathes out, her hands on his chest.  Her hips raise up and down rapidly despite her legs trembling greatly.

“Let me see those pretty eyes looking into mine.”  He orders hoarsely.  He hisses as her cunt adjusts.  The pain she felt was only temporary, but served its purpose well: reminding her whose body she was riding, a dangerous creature holding immense power over her.  His own gaze burned with need and desperation, pleading silently for satisfaction.  

She looks into his eyes obediently, so full of adoration for the monster.  “I-I-...”  Her breath hitches, she can’t finish her sentence.  She’s too embarrassed to admit her love for him.  Instead, she leans down to kiss him.  Her soft lips meeting his rough, uneven ones.

“Say it.  Tell me how much we mean to each other.”  He demands huskily.  His barbs grow slightly more, haling her movements for a single second.  It’s a sign of his nearing climax that’s mirrored by her frantic movements once she adjusts to the growth.

“I love you, fuck, I love you!”  She moans loudly.  Her cunt begins to quiver and massage his cock.  “Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me.”  She whimpers as his barbs dig in even more as her tight walls convulse around him.  Suddenly she can feel a torrent of his dark, murky cum release deep into her cunt.  His cock swells greatly, making her gasp and cum around him.  Her slick dribbles down his cock and coats him.  Her body slowly relaxes as his barbs retract but he remains swollen.  She lays limp against him, breathing heavily.

He roars hoarsely, pumping several times harder with his thickened cock.  He remains still, breathing heavily with his arms tight around her as he lays on his side, holding her tight to his chest.  It’ll take several minutes for his cock to decrease in size, but it’s unlikely that either of the two will be awake.  “Our bond is sealed.”  He rasps against her ear, nuzzling gently against sensitive skin.

[i-yap]

I absolute love how you write Jason and your takes on him like yes!! Giving Gomez and Morticia!!! Very much a man written by a woman!!! ANYWAY, I very much agree that he’d likely be with a civilian reader! So what do you think would be the little routines they’d fall into? Like grocery shopping and working out and date nights, like just the little details and minutiae of life that seems totally normal to her but means a whole lot more to him

I love love domestic jason, i love writing him , like he is so perfect i-

Domestic jason x reader

No one else does the chores around your house, unless you want to hire cleaning service, he doesn't.

He likes the simplicity, the domesticity and warmth and closeness and normalness of just being home, cleaning together, one washes the dishes and one dries. One cooks and the other presses shirts on the kitchen counter. making out on top of washing machines or making putting you bed together an impossible task from how he keeps dragging you in for cuddles (or more wink wink)

Man is starved. Like do something as simple as giving him a tissue just as he is about to sneeze, he will die on the spot. like wdym my lovely y/n was noticing me and observed that I was twitching and raising my arms about to sneeze...she knows I exist??

Rather than going "out out", jason loves really simple dates. Bike ride to a bookstore in a different town just because they have the hardcopy with the pretty art version of a book. Or drinking hot chocolate in a crowded cafe but you two are huddled in the corner. Or staying home and cuddling *(and more wink wink)

Also jason has really cold hands so when you just "oof jason why are you hands so cold jesus you should wear gloves no" and pull his hand into your coat pocket or if your at home just tuck it between your thighs even though you yourself are feeling cold.....man is now dead please bring flowers to his grave. Dw the rest of his body runs really hot.

REPEAT WITH ME, IF HE COULD SIT IN A BATHTUB WITH YOU AND WARM WATER FOREVER- HE WOULD KILL EVERY HUMAN AND ANIMAL AND MICROORGANISM ALIVE TO DO IT.

he just really loves baths, its the intimacy , the quiet , the lesseing of the ache in his muscles, you between his arms playing with his fingers or him in your arms with you washin his hair.

With the amount of time you guys spend with each other, you start following a pattern. so when someone sees you do chores together, or something normal together- they are a bit weirded out.

Like you're at a batfam dinner and jason sets your plate and justs takes out peas(or any other vegetable you hate) and puts it on his plate while you simultaneously take out the mushrooms from his plate. Or if someone asks you something and jason is able to answer in full detail ( if you're drunk-sleepy-tired busy cuz he would never interrupt you)

At this rate everyone believes you just have telepathy cuz you guys never even say a word in public but somehow understand each other. what witchery is this?

He just wants to combine your soul with his because even the thought of you brings him peace and man just loves you so much. please give him the love he never got otherwise .

[opencommunion]

"A December investigation by Israeli newspaper Yedioth Ahronoth revealed that Israel implemented against its own civilians captured on 7 October a version of its Hannibal directive: Israel used overwhelming lethal force even at the risk of killing Israelis along with their Palestinian captors, in order to avoid leaving them alive to be held captive in Gaza, and to avoid having to pay a steep political price for their return. Although Israel’s application of the Hannibal directive was widespread on 7 October, its implementation at the Cohen home stands out because more captives were killed there than in any other single structure on that day. One high-ranking Israeli officer called the army’s actions there an 'exponential Hannibal.' ... In late December the ranking officer who led Israel’s reconquest of the kibbutz – 99th Infantry Division commander and then commander-in-waiting of the Gaza Division, Brig. Gen. Barak Hiram – admitted to The New York Times that he ordered an Israeli tank to fire shells at the house, though he knew there were still-living Israeli captives inside. 'Break in, even at the cost of civilian casualties,' Hiram recalled ordering the tank commander. ... It is unlikely that the Israeli army will either fully endorse his explanations of the 'mass Hannibal' incident at Pessi Cohen’s house, or reveal all it knows about what really happened there on 7 October, because to do so would force it to undercut a pillar of Israeli propaganda about the events of that day: that Hamas heartlessly executed Israeli babies – a lie promoted by Hiram, but first invented by the commander of the Israeli army’s home front national rescue unit, Colonel Golan Vach.

... The day after Vach invented the lie of eight burned babies at the Pessi Cohen house, Yasmin Porat retold her survival story to the Israeli press, this time to Kan radio. Again she explained how she and a group of Israelis that included no small children were violently captured by Hamas and held hostage at Pessi Cohen’s home, but thereafter treated humanely and neither executed nor harmed in any other way. ... Colonel Golan Vach’s new allegations of 19 and even 23 Israeli civilians murdered by Hamas at the Cohen home created a serious problem for General Hiram, who had ordered the tank shelling. Vach’s tallies of the number of Israeli civilians killed there were up to 50 percent higher than the correct figures repeatedly reported by Yasmin Porat, who survived the bloodbath. Worse yet, Vach had introduced eight infants into the death toll – babies who had never existed. Hiram then had no choice but to alter his rendition of events, inflating the figures he had divulged to the Israeli news outlet Walla two weeks earlier. ... Hiram’s numerous lies about the battle at the Be’eri home of Pessi Cohen were apparently attempts to shield himself from the consequences of his command decisions. ... It is likely that Hiram’s main motive for lying about the events at Be’eri was to avoid repercussions for ending the lives of Israeli civilians in one of the most ghastly ways imaginable, burning them to death. ... Army rescue chief Colonel Golan Vach, however, who only arrived at Be’eri hours after those decisive tank shells were shot, did not lie about the battle out of loyalty to Hiram. Rather, he had his own motive for spinning Israel’s military failures into anti-Semitic atrocity tales: to manufacture consent for Israel’s utter annihilation of the Gaza Strip.

... Because of his stature and reputation, Israel’s national rescue chief Golan Vach was believed by reporters and editors all over the world, who published his bald-faced lies about Palestinians decapitating and burning to death Israeli babies on 7 October, even without any evidence. ... If they had only dismissed his gaslighting and done their due diligence, those same media outlets would have found plenty of evidence in the public domain of Vach’s desire 'to clear this region' of Palestinians without regard for 'human rights' from well before that date."

[disneyprincemuke]

hot laps * fem!driver

the fact of the matter is that she's got the reputation of being a reckless driver on the road, but they didn't know the extent until they had to join her for a hot lap around the track

pairings: bother figures x fem!driver, 4lyfers x fem!driver, macky

notes: hi i got bored at work and this is what i did instead of my dissertation

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

-> max verstappen, #1

literally cannot stop screaming the entire time

he knew she was a reckless driver by some degree on the road

but not like this

she takes him on an extra lap and goes faster, almost clips the wall and almost loses the car

is kinda impressed that she recovered it somehow

stumbles out the car a sputtering mess at how hard she’d gone in the car

“remind me not to anger you”

-> logan sargeant, #2

unfortunately is used to his life being in grave danger at her hands

lowkey still has a heart attack even though he knew she’s been driving like this since he taught her how to drive a road car at 16

holds onto the handles for dear life

disappointed but not surprised

“i almost got murdered trying to do content with rocky”

-> lando norris, #4

is silent most of the time

wide eyed though

is kinda traumatised at how fast she was going

because she seems to be having a lot of fun

just walks away the minute she parks the car at the grid

"doesn't seem normal to be giggling and humming songs when you're driving at 200km/h"

-> alex albon, #23

a little impressed

not sure what logan’s deal is about her driving

her driving reminds him a lot of george’s recklessness behind a wheel

isn’t as bad as george so that’s a win to him

“she’s a close second to george on the list of people i wouldn’t let drive me around”

-> liam lawson, #30

cussing her entire bloodline the minute she accelerated

apologises for every time he’s angered and pissed her off

his eyes were closed half the time, only ever peeking through an eye every couple seconds

terrified for his life

“have you ever considered operating a rocketship instead of a race car”

-> mick schumacher, #47

kinda enjoys it actually

she’s driven his car on the road before

asks her for a second lap because he literally doesn’t have the time to go to an amusement park

she says no

says she'll do it if he pays her money and the rates are $5/km/h

“it’s like getting on a roller coaster except it’s not nearly as scary”

-> george russell, #63

screams half the time she’s driving

literally tries to be a backseat driver

could feel his stomach left behind at sharp turns and his lifespan decreasing

actually saw his life flash before his eyes

“i need to apologise to alex for my driving behaviour”

-> oscar piastri, #81

would rather be anywhere than in a moving car with her

tries everything in his power not to get in the car with her

is unfortunately dragged in by lando because “if i had to go through it, so do you”

“i’ve lived with her, i’ve BEEN through it”

doesn’t feel much during the lap

feels kinda nice actually

better driver than he remembers her to be

“perhaps my expectations were low, but you weren’t as bad as i remembered so good job”

— bonus

-> sebastian vettel, #5

doesn’t even blink

sits there and takes it

kind of wonders why he allowed himself to be the target of the socmed’s team

from a race car driver perspective: good, but as a human: it’s absolutely foul

jelly legs when he came out of the car

“whoever let you have a license should have a stern talking to”

-> matt cornett (boyfriend!)

is praying for his safety the minute she approached him with bright eyes and a hopeful smile that he’d join her for a hot lap

literally thinks she’s going to kill him

isn’t as bad as he thinks

still thinks the rate she went at was too fast for his personal preference

she shrugs and admits that she went slower than she did with everyone else she's taken

is offended and asks her to give him the same treatment

literally regrets it

“i literally thought i was going to die at your hands”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Thomas Hewitt Headcanons

❝ I often ask myself, 'What makes a man a killer?' ❝

[ SFW + No Gendered Terms]

General Warnings: Mentions of Murder, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Hoyt being Hoyt

A/N: Congrats to Tommy for winning the last poll for headcanons :) I love this man sm. I scour the entire internet just for fanart of his body he's so soft and aaaaa !!!

🔪 Tommy is unfamiliar with romance entirely. The most he'd gotten to know of it were stories from Luda Mae during childhood but he never got to experience it himself.

🔪 And the mention of what a "man does to a woman" by Hoyt wasn't appealing to him in any way. Tommy just focused on providing for the family and ignoring what Hoyt said.

🔪Then, a new set of victims made the mistake of running into Hoyt and Tommy was to do his job. Yet, for some reason, he couldn't help but stare at you when he brought you down to the basement and rather than running, you clung to him instead to hide from Hoyt.

🔪 For once, he wanted to protect you while Hoyt yelled at him to just kill you. But, everything was different this time. Someone willingly approached him rather than screaming.

🔪 Tommy was firm in his decision, towering over Hoyt as his own silent threat to keep you around. And so he did. While he couldn't speak to you, he tried his best to care for you despite you now being a prisoner in a home of cannibals.

🔪 He'd carefully place a plate in front of you and then just sit and stare at you, waiting for a reaction or for you to eat. Telling him you don't trust the meat in the case that it's human has him confused because they taste fine to him? But since your stuff was taken from you, Luda will just buy other foods for you to eat with your money.

🔪 In truth, Tommy is just as scared of you as you are of him. He doesn't want to upset you in any way because for once, it seems like he has a friend. An attractive one too. He waits for you to be more comfortable around him.

🔪 Tommy is a light sleeper so he'd have you sleep in his room with him. If you were to try and sneak out, he'd be right there to stop you. But, it's not like you have much of a way to sneak out anyway since he is completely clung to you in his sleep without realizing it. It's as though you were his pillow or plushie to cuddle during the nighttime.

🔪 When Luda noticed the way Tommy treated you, she would whisper little things he could do to impress you or make you happy. She always wanted him to find someone, especially since Tommy had his struggles.

🔪 He gets nervous when trying to do some of what Luda suggested because it felt like he was a little boy again. A little lovesick boy. But he’s a mama’s boy and knows Luda is helping him. He'd approach you and hand a flower to you, just as she suggested, hoping that it works to make you happy.

🔪 Some days, you’ll wake up to find a little note in your dresser. It’s in poor handwriting but you can tell it’s from Tommy. He picked it up from what Luda used to do—Leave notes in his lunch each day.

🔪 The first note you got had some drawings on it. You could make out smiley faces and hearts. The only legible words on the note was “I LOVE YOU”.

🔪 Tommy is very careful around you since he's aware of his size. He tries to be like a gentle giant, although, he can default to being too gentle, treating you as though you were made of glass.

🔪 He's scared to hurt you. After all, that's the only thing Hoyt has him do. Gods forbid if he did hurt you in some way, he'd slink away into the basement to avoid being around you. He would need some coaxing to understand that you're okay.

🔪 Overall though, Tommy is an absolute sweetheart. He's very attentive and willing to do whatever to make you happy. And he's also very easy to please! He's been taught to be happy with the minimum so anything besides that immediately makes him overjoyed.

🔪 Tommy's favorite thing to do is hold hands with you. He's self-conscious over the fact that his hands are scarred and rough but he can't help but be an internal mess at the electric touch between you two.

🔪 Sometimes when he's upset with Hoyt's constant yelling and berating, he'll toss you over his shoulders like nothing and bring you outside with him so he can cool down with you.

🔪 He finds solace in you. You'll find how Tommy will just sometimes stare at you because he's admiring your appearance. He has a particular fascination with your eyes. He finds it hard to look at them directly but when you aren't looking at him, it's all he can focus on.

🔪 One thing about Tommy: As much as he can be sweet, he still is a brutish murderer. Any victims who even catch a glimpse of you are his first targets.

🔪 It can be almost unnerving how easily Tommy can switch like that. To be so gentle with you to becoming a murderous beast towards anyone else.

🔪 One quick way you’ve seen Tommy get upset is when he heard Hoyt talk explicitly about your body. Hoyt did it specifically to make you uncomfortable as that is what gets him off most.

🔪 But his grin was quickly wiped off by how Tommy turned around and stared down Hoyt. He didn’t have much restraint but decided to simply pick you up and leave to his room with you. His silent threats spoke for him.

🔪 He also has a tendency to be paranoid about you staying. He makes sure you understand that this is your home now. He is your family. You wouldn't leave him alone again, right?

🔪 Tommy isn’t that hesitant to never take off his mask but he is around you because of his insecurities. He knows what generally attractive people look like considering the victims he’s caught before and knows he doesn’t look like that.

🔪 He grows more accustomed to having his mask off when you aren’t afraid to kiss and caress his face. You couldn’t be lying about that when your touch was so sweet and gentle with him.

🔪 Tommy’s main Love Languages to give are: Acts of Service and Quality Time. He loves to receive in return Quality Time and Words of Affirmation.

🔪 Tommy likes to go out of his way to do things for you because he likes to feel useful to you. Anything he can do to help you out and he’s rushing to help.

🔪 Any errand around the house he immediately takes up so he can hear you praise him for it.

🔪 If he sees you working, he’s made it a habit to get you tea or lemonade. In the mornings, he’s used to waking up early so he’ll let you sleep in and surprise you with breakfast. Before bed, he has a whole ritual for you before going to bed.

🔪 Pulling back the covers, making sure the pillows are cold and plumped up. And once you walk in, he’s planting kisses across your face, picking you up and tucking you in while he gets in beside you and holding you close.

🔪 One of his favorites to do is when you ask him to pick something up for you if it’s too heavy. When you compliment him for being strong, he’s barely letting you pick anything up anymore because he wants to hear you praise him more.

🔪 Tommy also just generally loves to spend alone time with you. Constantly being around his family in the home can leave him feeling slightly stir crazy.

🔪 He loves to just sit under a tree, under the shade and away from the harsh sun, beside you and just enjoy your presence.

🔪 Tommy was a little hesitant at the suggestion of a spa day with face masks and other things, considering he’d have to take off his mask but seeing you in the same face mask as him in the mirror and he was silently asking each week to do it again and again.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[deanwinchestergf]

and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [3]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, barely proofread, a lot of awkward tension cause Neytiri and humans + reader being in conflict, terrible na'vi sentence.

Word count: 3,8k

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A superior of you recommended you to Norm, a human scientist in an avatar body that went against the RDA a decade ago. He lives close to the war, which means close to the Omatikaya. This means you were going to face your father, the man you really didn't want to see. It wasn't that big of a shock to you when you were told that you were going to the front lines. You were always preached about for being one of the best warriors, you saw it coming. Both Raja and Seb were also ranked as one of the best warriors among your group, so it was fortunate you could at least be close to your friends if you were to break down. Yet you weren't planning to do that. Deep inside you yearned for him, wanting to jump into his arms the moment you see him and call him daddy again, but another side of you told you to keep quiet about it. Let him figure it out on his own. Act like you don't care and show him what you became. Was it the mature way? No, definitely not. But you threw your childhood away to become a warrior, being childish every now and then shouldn't hurt too much. And I mean, they had your files. The information of you potentially being Jake Sully's kid was out in the open for the higher-ranked to see, so whether he was interested enough in getting to know his soon-to-be acquaintances or not, the choice of figuring out you are his babygirl is really up to Jake Sully himself. It's not like he would notice it by looking at your face, your mask wasn't see-through and covered half of your face. Besides that, you look different than what you looked like over a decade ago. So here you were, in this helicopter with Raja and Seb on your way to the Omatikaya clan, adrenaline rushing through your veins as Raja kept her grip on your forearm.

Jake Sully held his wife in his arms as he begged her to accept the help that is supposed to get to home tree soon. Norm already told him weeks ago that the resistance was coming soon. He didn't know what he meant, unaware of the things that were happening on earth. He was explained how earth was in an uproar, divided into three groups: with the RDA, against the RDA, or being neutral. Information was leaked about the RDA's doings, how they were sending humans to Pandora to kill the natives. History repeats itself. From killing their own kind centuries ago to killing a different species on a different planet. Norm told him how he was in contact with a huge resistance party on planet earth, one that was open for it to directly take action, how they wanted to send their trained warriors to Pandora to end the wrongdoings of mankind and keep the RDA away or any human that was a potential enemy to Pandora and its nature. Young warriors that just finished their training, choosing to fight for someone else's freedom rather than living a safe life on earth. Safe as in not getting attacked then, because planet earth is definitely dying. Jake could appreciate this selfless decision, whether some may be in it for the paycheck or just an act of kindness, all of them were there to help. He was hoping Neytiri could see it like this too, they were here to help fight against their own kind. Jake's pleading eyes couldn't make Neytiri decline, so with a loud hiss she agreed, "fine, but I'm coming with you. If they make one wrong move I'm going to pierce an arrow through their skulls, ma Jake." Her tone sounded annoyed, but she couldn't help but lean into his touch.

Even though Neytiri agreed to accept help from the sky demons, she was against the idea to bring those demons directly to high camp. It was that feeling all over again, when Jake betrayed her and the RDA came to destroy their past home, home tree. She was scared for her people, for her children. Jake could understand where she was coming from and agreed with Norm through his throat microphone to meet at the lab instead. His children were listening from afar and Tuk jumped out of their hiding spot, much to Neteyam's, Loak's and Kiri's dismay. "Are we going on an adventure?", giggles left her lips as she jumped towards her mother, her arms wrapping around her waist. Her chin was pressed against her mom's hip as she looked up at her with sparkles in her eyes. Kiri smacked herself against the forehead as their little sibling ran towards her parents. The three got out of their hiding spot, Neteyam walking in front as he was ready to confront his father, "sir I-" he started, but was immediately cut off as Jake spoke over his voice, "Neteyam I need you to come with your mom and me. We are retrieving guests, sky people. This will be part of your Olo'eyktan training." Jake's tone was fierce as he spoke to his son, treating his own blood as nothing but a warrior. Neteyam pursed his lips as he nodded his hand in response, "yes sir." was all he had left to say. Loak groaned as he felt left out of the situation. He wanted to go on an adventure too, and spend time with his father. "What about me? Why can't I come?" He didn't hide the disappointment in his tone as he asked his questions, mainly directing them to his father. "I need you to stay here and take care of Kiri and Tuk." Kiri then decided to chime in on the conversation, planning to get more information on the current situation, "what is this all about dad? They're going to help us, but what are they exactly?" Jake sighed in response as he brought his hand to his forehead. It was no use hiding anything, they would get to know the truth eventually. So he just decided to tell them everything he knew from Norm.

Everything comes to light after all.

Jake Sully prepared himself for their departure. Hunter's knife strapped to his hip and his throat microphone attached as always, in case Loak gets into trouble yet again. "Ma Jake? Are you ready soon? My mother would like to see you as well before we do." Neytiri called from outside their family pod. "Almost almost, I'll get to her tent soon." Jake was frantically looking around the pod as he spoke. He was looking for his good luck charm. Childish one may call it, but it made him feel at ease during these stressful times. There it lay, the thing he was looking for, under one of the woven carpets. He picked the round charm up, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he tried to open the lock. His heart pounded into his throat as he did so, struggling to open it because of his much bigger hands. He was delusional, scared to lose it. He breathed out when he came face to face with your cute baby face, all smiling and giggling. "Thank Eywa," he mumbled to himself and tied to chain to the handle of his knife. When Jake Sully opened the flap that separated the inside of the pod from the outside world he came face to face with Neytiri, "Mo'at wants to see me?" She responded with a nod as her head nodded to the healer's tent, "she wanted to speak to you, she told me." He wondered what that could be about. He wasn't injured or suffering from any illnesses, so what could have possibly happened? Jake Sully nodded his head before speaking up, "I still don't think it's a good idea that you come." Neytiri crossed her arms at his words, "Ma Jake, I need to see what kind of people are about to enter my clan." And with that, she walked away. A sigh left his lips since he knew things would not turn out too well. He stepped towards Mo'at's tent. Time to find out why she needed him, as he entered the tent Mo'at was supposed to be at. "Ah, Jake Sully. I was awaiting you." She motioned for him to come in and he followed her order. He awkwardly stood next to her as she busied herself with her herbs, "Eywa has spoken to me. It has to do with you, Jake Sully." His ears twitched in curiosity, motioning for her to continue speaking. "You are about to be in a huge conflict. Hearts will break and tears will stream. You mustn't give up as Eywa has spoken to me this needs to happen for you to continue forward, so don't back down, Jake Sully." This just confused him, what conflict? Does this have to do with the arrival of the resistance? Is this about the RDA? But he doesn't dare ask, because he knows the Tsahik can't get into detail. His gaze is focused on the herbs the Tsahik is mixing up into medicines. Was it to distract herself from this conversation? He didn't know what else to say, but there is one thing he dared to ask, "when will this happen?"

"Way sooner than you will ever expect, Jake Sully."

"Your codename is Buttercup?" Norm looked at Seb in disbelief as the guy in question just shook his head, "I was forced, this is a crime." The three of you were talking about yourselves to Norm as Norm listened carefully. Raja giggled at the embarrassment of her friend, "so there used to be this cartoon I found in one of my great grandma's old boxes. It was called the Powerpuff girls. It is about three sisters that fight against crime and we needed codenames, so I forced (Y/N) and Seb to match with me." This made Norm realize how the three trained warriors in front of him were actually still kids at heart. Of course he knew that they were young, but this just showed how much they missed out on beings kids. You chuckled at the conversation and shrugged, "I mean, my codename is Blossom so it's not too bad, not like being a buff dude and getting called Buttercup. Raja's fits hers, bubbles. It fits her bubbly personality." Seb continued complaining about how it was two against one and that he couldn't escape from his codename being Buttercup. "We are here," Norm commented and you felt the nerves go through your body once again, your grip on your katana so hard your knuckles turned lighter. As the helicopter lowered, you looked outside the window and there you saw three blue figures standing next to one another close to a facility in the middle of the forest. There he was. Your dad. Standing all high and mighty and he was so tall. He looked so different, yet still the same. You noticed certain features that just made him look like your dad. You wished you were a little kid again. If it was little you in your place right now, she wouldn't have given a damn. Would've run up to him and told him who you were as you would have jumped into his arms. But you grew up, full of anger and pain. You pursed your lips as you watched him talk with his mate and son, silently wishing it was you there, by his side as he had a proud look on his face. You had an intense conflict within yourself. Why did you have to be such a tryhard? If you slacked off, you could have been chilling with the other warriors that were spread around the other forest clans. Yet, this was something to be proud of. You did this on your own, you should prove yourself to them, to him. But were you ready for this confrontation? All this inner dialogue made your head hurt. You had to stop fighting the thoughts in your head and focus, because you were getting lost in your thoughts a lot. That wasn't acceptable, not on a battlefield. Once the helicopter landed, Norm was the first to step out of the helicopter, followed by Seb, Raja and you. When the three of you stood in a line you were standing right in front of the Na'vi: Seb in front of Neteyam, Raja in front of Neytiri, and you in front of Jake Sully right in the middle. As if Eywa herself wanted this to happen, wanting the two of you to reconnect. He analyzes you from head to toe, his gaze burning into your skin making you push your mask further into your skin. You wanted to crawl into a cave right there and then.

"Oel Ngati Kameie," the three of you say in unison as you brought your hand towards your forehead, dropping it slowly to the height where your chest is at. The na'vi in front of you do the same na'vi greeting, before Jake Sully switched to English, "I, Jake Sully, Welcome you to Pandora, I can speak for everyone of the Omatikaya clan that we are very thankful for your arrival and your help." His English sounded rusty, but understandable when you haven't been using it for the past decade. Your eyebrows raise at his English, "we understand Na'vi. Pxoeng nolume Na'vi." You spoke to your dad through your mask and you could see the surprise on his face. It made you smile, he looked proud. Fortunately, the mask covered your mouth, otherwise, everyone could have seen your happy expression. Norm chimed into the conversation, "These three are the best warriors of their group. (Y/N), Seb and Raja, all scored fantastically on their physical exams. Six years ago, these warriors left just a few weeks before RDA's departure. We got a few weeks to plan out a raid against their new forces." Everyone nods in unison and you glance at your dad once again, locking eyes with him, since he was already looking at you.

Jake's eyes widen at that name. It was a name he didn't hear in so long. He thought of his babygirl, wondering what you could be doing right now. Did you graduate? Have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Was he a grandfather? He got so overwhelmed at the thought of you. He missed you so much. His little girl, who is probably not so little now. Regret and guilt fuels his body as he remembers that he was the one to leave you and never return to earth. How he hoped to see your face again. Come and live here with him on Pandora, was that a selfish thought?

Norm took out a form and cleared his throat, making Jake Sully wake up from all his thoughts, "Jake, the warriors first need to do this checkup before they can get to work, resistance orders," he passes him the map with your files and your heart immediately dropped to your stomach. You knew he was about to get your last name eventually, but on the first day? You don't know if you can do that. "This was supposed to be my task, but I trust that you can do this, oh great Olo'eyktan? Max is researching something and he urgently needs my help with it." Great Norm, just great. Eywa, is this your doing? Because you would rather wish she takes you to her right this instant. "You can trust me with this, Norm." Jake flashes him a grin. "Don't lose it and I really mean that," Norm's gaze reaches the three of you once again, he almost looks worried, "I read the checkup, good luck, because as a scientist I could never." And to the lab he went.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Seb raised his eyebrows in concern and his eyes glanced at the map your father was holding. Neytiri has been quiet this entire time as well as Neteyam. Both were weary ever since they met you three, like mother, like son. Everyone could notice the tension, it would have made Jake's arm hair stand if he had any. "Okay, let's see what we have here.. Pretty.. gruesome.." Neteyam was looking over his dad's shoulder, frowning at all of them, "sir, is this normal for humans?" Again, you raise your eyebrows and you couldn't stop the next words you say from coming out of your mouth, "you call your father 'sir'? What is this, an army?" Raja widens her eyes, as well as Seb. Neytiri hisses your way in defense, Jake putting his arm out in front of her as to not make her pounce in you, but you don't flinch. You just looked at your father in disbelief at how he was treating his own son. It was awfully quiet as Jake didn't know what to reply. Your hard gaze on him made him feel something, guilt? Pain? He couldn't describe it, but he felt weird in some way. Luckily, Norm came back in his human body, clear mask on his face, "false alarm, he already got help from the other scientists and everything is go- what the hell happened here?" Norm could feel the tension in his bones as he watched the six of you. You were the first to speak up, "nothing is wrong here. So you will do our checkup right?" You walked towards your father, gripping the file map out of his hands and handing it over to Norm. Everyone's jaws drop to the ground and Neytiri drew her hunter's knife, "you sky demon I knew you couldn't be trusted! Such disrespectful behavior!" Jake takes a hold of his mate. They couldn't fight, not now. Neytiri needed to get out of here before blood was about to be drawn. "Ma Neytiri please, it's fine, could you please check up on Loak?" The tension was unbearable for Jake Sully. His eyes pleaded for himself to handle this. The grip on her knife loosened as she hissed again. Neteyam stepped towards his mother as his hand wrapped around hers, the one she was gripping the knife with, "mother please, please trust father." He himself had doubts about these humans, but it looked like his dad trusted them, so he should at least try right? As future Olo'eyktan. Looking into her son's eyes, she felt herself calm down as she lowered her knife, attaching it to her hip. She put her hand on Neteyam's cheek for a second before pulling her hand away. Once again, she threw a glance at you. "I'm watching you." She sent you a hiss as a warning and crept back into the forest. Great, you have a bad relationship with your dad's mate. Maybe this was for the best after all. Jake sighed, he shouldn't have taken Neytiri with him even after all her demands. With sky people she just met it was bound to go like this.

After that awkward ordeal, Neteyam led everyone to an open field in the forest. With your dad's gaze still lingering on your body, you decided to try and ignore it. Easier said than done. You yearned for your dad, but you couldn't give in. Neteyam and Jake stood to the side as the three of you started stretching in the conveniently open field that was formed into a circle. "The checkup is about strength, focus, and speed. You need to fight one vs one hand-to-hand combat battles against one another without masks on."

"Without masks?! Are they out of their mind?!"

"Do you expect an answer or?"

"No I don't!"

Seb and Raja continued their daily bickering as always, but your mind was completely somewhere else. Jake seemed to notice this, as he walked towards you. He had this urge to comfort you. Could it be, because you had the same name as his daughter on earth? Maybe, but maybe if he took care of you, he could feel at peace again. He sat on his knees and put his hand on your shoulder, making you look his way. "I'm sorry for my mate, she can be very protective of me," he softly spoke to you, "and I don't blame you, you woke up after 6 years and your entire life is upside down. I understand." You pursed your lips at his words. Why was he being so soft to you? You couldn't stand it, not when he spoke like that, reassuring you like that. You didn't reply, you just gave him the shoulder as you stepped away from his grip. This just made him even more confused as his chest hurt, did he do something wrong when he met you? Was he staring at you a little too long? Did his gaze offend you?

"We will do three rounds and in those three rounds, you need to put your enemy down for ten seconds to win."

"Let's dance then, shall we?"

And those words you spoke, felt awfully familiar to Jake Sully.

Neteyam Sully watched in awe as you fought the final round against Seb. Your mask was on the ground as you pounced on the much taller guy. He tried to lock your legs with his to make you lose your balance, which would have given him an advantage, but you punched him in the face with your fist, making his mouth open and gasp for air. In his moment of panic, you used it to knock him face-first into the dirty mossy ground, keeping his head on the floor as you twisted his arm. You sat right on his back as you used your knee on his neck to keep him down, the other weighing on his lower back and arm. You gasped for air as you saw blurry, listening to Norm count to ten was honestly something. It sounded like he counted to a hundred in slow motion. When he yelled the word ten, you quickly got off your friend, crawling towards your mask. Jake wanted to run up to you to help you, but Norm told him to stop and that this was what you were supposed to do in a real battle if it would ever happen that you lose your mask. You quickly took your mask in your hand and put it on your face with a shaky hand, gasping for the oxygen you needed. You coughed loudly as you sat on your knees with your hands on the ground. Jake rushed towards you and put his arm around you, rubbing your back with his free hand, "are you okay?" worry in his tone as he spoke. Your eyes widen at the familiar hug. The warmth of his arms as he used to hold onto you as you snuggled against him in your sleep. But you couldn't. You held onto his hand, letting the touch linger your skin before you pushed it away, "I'm good, yes." You stood up and walked towards Norm, not looking back at him once.

Just what was it with you?

And why did it hurt how you treated him?

A/N: I was lowkey insecure about posting this part 3 fr, idk if I liked it. I kept adding and adding details in the hope I would feel better about it, so here's a longer part than usual. Hope you enjoyed it. Pls tell me what you think. <3

taglist:

@hoodiepandaninja16 @l0v3e1i @neteyamforlife @noname2246 @littlelia007 @j0551 @navs-bhat @fyfy-world @hellok1ttycake @lwozy @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kahlowy @iloveavatar @farleyis @reguluscrystals @inomoikawa @bobojojoba69 @eternallyvenus @imakms @alice121804 @aimsro @carollise @jjkclub @onlytays @yeosxxx @dakotali @degenweeb @sunshinewwx @sassy-persona @ggeveryone99 @calums-betch @voniikg @jakesullys-bitch @answer-the-sirens @ilovebluesliens @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @crazy4books1 @kitkat1690 @iikatsukii @666yourmomdotcom @ssc7514 @nhloversblog @eatassskatefast12 @mizuki80 @makeup-stuff-and-such @ayanies @n3t3y4msm4t3 @tigresslily @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @mangolog

[pandoraslxna]

Lost and found — Chapter 4

adult Neteyam x female human scientist

Words: 6.2k

Summary: Neteyam hates humans. One day, he finds you all alone and lost in the forest, but quickly decides against killing you. What might be the odd reason for that?

Warnings: explicit smut, neteyam‘s pov, queue play (hehe), Neteyam whimpers, praise kink, heavy size kink, alien biology, slight language barrier, p in v, belly bulge, creampie, hair-pulling, fluff <3

Notes: check my masterlist for all chapters

To say that his parents weren’t happy about the human that Neteyam bought home was an understatement.

Especially his mother was outright furious by the sight of the little demon, her smaller frame hiding behind her oldest son, seeking protection from her glaring gaze. His father, on the other hand, was very familiar with the story of a human and a Na’vi choosing each other as mates. Of course he wasn't thrilled when he found out that his son had simply chosen to make this decision for the little human, claiming her as his mate when she biologically wasn’t even able to do the same. Technically, he could’ve at least asked her out first, he said. But what was done now couldn’t be reversed. She might’ve not willingly accepted to become his mate at first, but Neteyam had chosen her and fulfilled his claim. (Multiple times by now, but obviously he didn’t tell his parents that.)

What mattered was, that they were mated now. And she willingly agreed to stay.

She got familiar with his clan, with high camp and his siblings pretty quickly. And even though she was hesitant at first, the little human even allowed him to take her on a ride on his ikran at some point, helping her explore places of the forest she had never seen before. It made his chest swell with pride, watching her eyes widen in awe at the sight of all the different flora and fauna he introduced her to.

Neteyam learned quickly, that she was a curious thing by nature. A little shy at first, but once she got comfortable, he jokingly debated putting her on a leash so she wouldn’t just wander off and get lost or hurt whenever he turned his back on her.

At least teaching his human mate the language of his people was easier than Neteyam originally thought. Which was a relief for the both of them, considering they would have to understand each other without Jake, Lo‘ak or any of the humans of high camp around to translate for them.

The forest was quiet today, save for the sound of a few Syaksyuk swinging from tree to tree, ruffling through the leaves where some rays of the sun shined through, warming Neteyams skin where they touched him. It wasn’t the same place they had met each other just a while ago, but similar enough that it bought back pleasant memories. The faint sound of an ikrans call made him aware that it was still there, circling above the trees, patiently waiting for his rider to return. But that wouldn’t be anytime soon.

"Zekwa", his human mate says, rolling her tongue in an attempt to pronounce the foreign word correctly. Finger. But Neteyam shakes his head with a sigh, "No, it’s Zekwä. Try it again, but slower."

"Zek…wä", she tries again and this time he nods, encouraging her to keep trying, "Zekwä, like this?"

One of the reasons she was so quick to understand and eager to learn, was probably the method of reward he had chosen to apply whenever she did something right.

"Good girl", Neteyam smiled, placing a soft kiss to one of her tender fingers. Then he moved higher, to the palm of her hand, kissing her there. "And this?"

"Tsyokx", she responds with a smile that rises her cheeks. Hand.

"What about this?" Neteyam leaned over to be closer to her. Holding her smaller face in his rather big palms, he gently tilted her head to gain better access to the space right below her jawline. Then, his tongue darts out to lick a small stripe along her pulse point and he feels her shiver underneath his touch. "That’s… Nikre", she says. Throat. And Neteyam doesn’t miss the way her voice slightly trembled. He takes a second or two before he moves, just staying close to her and inhaling her scent.

"Hmh", he hums, placing a kiss to her skin, where it was wet from his salvia now, "You’re getting better at this, little one."

While he rests his forehead against her throat, one of his hands comes to lay on her thigh, gently squeezing the soft flesh there. His hand was big enough to almost fully close around her small leg, her size difference making him utterly aware of her fragility whenever he touched her. Handling her with care had become his number one priority over the past few weeks and he had to learn how to gauge his own strength, in order not to break her.

"What’s this called?", he whispers, feeling her swallow around the lump in her throat.

"T-Taeng", she exhales softly to which Neteyam straightens his back and sits up to properly look at her. Of course, her cheeks had turned red. "It’s Ta'leng", he corrects her with a chuckle. Thigh. "Stay focused."

As he moves to sit back on his heels, some of his braids sway over his shoulder, the colorful beads in his hairs clicking together and he catches the way her eyes follow their movements.

Neteyam knew she liked them. He had braided a few strands of her hair himself and they were now decorated with a purplish-blue feather behind her ear and a few beads that were very similar to the ones in his hair. He had made them just for her.

Neteyam had caught her trying to recreate some of the hairstyles she had seen on his people, just a few days ago, but they never turned out how she preferred. He had to admit, she was an adorable little thing when she got frustrated, but he gladly offered to help her.

He just loved how much she cherished her braided hair and all the neat little accessories decorating them ever since.

Now she was staring at his hair again, but something told him that this time, it wasn’t his hairstyle or the pretty beads in his braids that caught her attention. Neteyam could only assume what it was.

"Neteyam?", she calls for him. The way his name rolls off of her tongue, like warm honey, makes goosebumps appear on his skin. It was the first word she had learned to pronounce in Na’vi and he wished it would’ve taken her a while longer to learn, just so he could hear her say it over and over again. He just knew he would never get tired of her saying his name.

Her short fingers point to the thick braid laying over his shoulder, the one that was longer than the rest of his hair. "What’s the Na’vi word for…this?" Neteyams gaze followed the direct of her finger, to see what she was pointing at. Reaching for his painstakingly braided tswin, he held it up for her to see.

"This? It’s my kuru", he explains with a soft smile, "or tswin."

"Oh I think I know that one", the human exclaims happily, "it’s called neural queue in my language!" Instinctively, her hands reach out to touch it and even though he’s a little taken aback by her curiosity, Neteyam let’s her. A pleasant chill runs down his back as she gently feels the braid up and down in awe, seemingly impressed with how tidily his hair was braided. Her hands glide over his hair, starting from the base of his skull, until she reaches the end of it. Turning it from side to side in her hand, the soft hair at the end of his braid part and reveal something that must’ve seem very alien to her, going by the way her eyes widened slightly.

She was looking at the little, pink tendrils, how they moved completely unwillingly and her small mouth opens like she intended to say something, but no words seem to come out. He knew that this wasn’t her first time seeing them. She had seen them before, just briefly when he had bonded with his ikran, but now he realized she must’ve never seen them up close before. And knowing that the humans anatomy did not possess anything similar to his, he doesn’t feel offended by her curiosity. She would have to learn more about his kind one way or another, he thought. And at least he could be the one to teach her.

Inhaling a shaky breathe to calm himself, he continues to let her explore. But curious as his little human mate was, exploring with her eyes only, seemingly wasn’t enough after just a short while. With wide eyes he watches as her other hand moves, inching closer to touch the tendrils and every hair on his body rises by the sheer sight of it.

Neteyam swallows thickly and watching her curiosity get the better of her, his first impulse is to take his tswin from her hand. Despite all of what they had shared together so far, this was still such an intimate part of his body and it felt… strange, to let her touch and explore him there.

But again, he lets her. She was his mate after all. And if she would’ve been even partly Na’vi, they would’ve already made tsaheylu with one another. The thought alone had his tail standing upright, curling and lashing in the air restlessly. He couldn’t deny that his body was yearning for this type of intimacy, the only one he couldn’t share with her.

Neteyam suddenly sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, when she was just mere inches from touching him there. Immediately, her eyes shot up to look at him. It was just for a brief second, yet her eye contact was so intense, as if she was wordlessly asking for permission to continue. And even though it was almost unbearable for him, Neteyam once again decides to let it happen.

Her hand comes closer and closer, slow and steady, and it made his heart race and a warm feeling arose in his stomach. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, until the pinkish tendrils wrapped themselves around one of her delicate fingers.

Neteyams whole body tensed at this and he squeezed his eyes shut as a shiver ran through him, his breathing increasing at the unfamiliar feeling.

"Th-This is tsaheylu", Neteyam murmured while he was trying his best to stay composed, "It’s the… the sacred bond between all of Eywa’s children. It allows us to mentally connect and share information. When you are bonded, you gain access to each other's physical senses. Pain, happiness, fear… ple-pleasure."

Her curious gaze flicked from his tswin, to his eyes and then back, as he spoke. Meanwhile her fingers continued to play with the extensions of his nervous system. Neteyam had to lean back on his palms to put some distance between her and himself, taking deep breathes to sort his own thoughts. She probably had no idea what she was even doing to him, he thought, trying his absolute most to keep all these noises down that arose from deep in his chest.

"But we", he exhales shakily, "we don’t bond like this. We bond by connecting them."

"Oh", she exclaimed quietly at that and he catches the way she looks down on her hands. Her eyebrows rise as if she had a sudden thought, before she asks him worriedly, "am I hurting you?"

Neteyam hesitates, but then shakes his head. What he was feeling in this moment was hard to describe. No, it didn’t hurt. But it also couldn’t be compared to the actual feeling of bonding with one another, it was more like a tingling sensation in his brain. Like getting tickled with a feather, with muscles twitching on their own, having no control over the way his body reacts to the sensation. It felt foreign, maybe a little weird too, but at the same time, it felt strangely pleasant. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

The idea of touching his own tswin like this had somehow never occurred him. It wasn’t like someone had specifically told him not to, it just wasn’t something that ever crossed his mind.

Watching and feeling the way the thin tendrils of his kuru moved into the embrace of her soft hands felt like someone was pouring warm syrup straight into his brain. Neteyam could feel how his pupils dilated further with every passing second, until they were almost fully black. The whole time, their focus was entirely on his mate. A low, breathy sound, like a whimper, escaped him as the unfamiliar feeling continued to spread through his whole body, the more she played with him like this.

Once again, he was dumbfounded at the things that this human was capable of. Not only was she able to sent him into his rut, when her biology was so different from his, but she also made him feel things he had never felt before. Things that he was sure no other Na‘vi could make him feel. How did she even know what to do and how to touch him to get him to react like this?

Neteyams breathing wasn’t just heavy, he was almost panting now. Letting his head fall back, he squeezed his eyes shut again to try and calm himself, but the heat that’s been spreading in his core slowly becomes hotter and hotter, until it’s almost unbearable for him to ignore. He doesn’t even realize how little whimpers and moans begin to fall from his parted lips freely, too busy to keep his focus on the strange feeling that could be mistaken as pleasure, entirely created by the humans hands playing with the tendrils of his kuru.

But maybe that’s what it was, what he was feeling. Pleasure.

Neteyam shifts a little as he feels something stir, right there under his loincloth, and he knows if he would look down, he would find himself hard and aching. Surely, this wasn’t supposed to make him feel like that, he thought. But it did.

Swallowing hard, he forces himself to open his eyes again, only to be greeted by a sight that just adds further to the tightness in his loincloth.

Her plump lips are parted, coated in a thin layer of salvia as if she had wet them with her tongue barely a minute ago. Her cheeks are flushed in deep red, eyes half lidded and heavy with lust and for a split second, Neteyams eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Was she… enjoying this?

It was like a switch had been flipped when her eyes suddenly met his. To his surprise, she unexpectedly lets go of his tswin in order to jump up to her feet. While he continued to watch her with great curiosity, she moved to stand directly over him. Even when he was sitting, leaning back on his palms like that, her navel only reached up to his chin and he was tempted to lean in and kiss her right there.

But the question, what she was even intending to do, already laid on his tongue. He quickly swallowed it down though, when she began to undress right in front of his eyes. The human fiddled with her clothes, discarding them quickly, which made her need become obvious to his eyes. She was, in fact, enjoying this.

During all the time they had spend together so far, he had never seen his little human so desperate before. And if so, it was usually him who would make the first move. It was him who would bend her in any position he favored, him who had to make her admit how needy she was, him who had to coax these pretty sounds out of her, because she was too shy and too flustered to act on her own. But not today, though, that was was for sure. Today she was acting different.

Her feather like weight settled on top of him, snapping him out of his thoughts when she straddled his waist. But Neteyam stays unmoving. He lets her act on her own this time, wanting to see what his sweet mate was carving for so much. Almost comically impatiently, her hands reached between their bodies. She scoots back just a little to make room to pull his loincloth to the side, just enough to let his cock spring free. It slaps against her lower stomach with a soft thud and Neteyams lips curve into a smug grin at the sound of her little gasp of surprise to find him this hard already.

His grin drops pretty quickly, as soon as she grabs him, her small hand not even close to closing around his shaft completely and a guttural groan leaves his lips. When her feather light touch becomes more firm and she begins to stroke him, Neteyam arches into her hand like she’s the only source of relief in the world. The contact of her warm skin on his own makes him twitch in her hand. There was no way he would be able to keep his cool when his mate was touching him like this, hovering above him, flushed and beautiful and so needy, she was ready to take what she wanted all on her own. Eywa, he prayed, give him the strength to not take a fucking bite out of her.

But Neteyam was getting impatient. Whatever she had done earlier to rile him up this much, in combination with the way she was sitting on him now– it bought him on the verge of his self restrain. His chest was heaving, sharp canines barred as he restrains every single urge to switch her position, pin her down and claim her like he’s done so many times by now. But no matter how impatient he was, he had to prepare her for his size first.

Mating with her, with a human, meant he had to take his time and get her ready to take him, fully take him, without inflicting any pain on her.

Usually, she knew that too. This time, however, it seemed like she was willing to take the pain that the stretch of his length and girth bought her, if it meant she could fill her entire being with him and not have to wait another second.

Not giving him much time to realize her intentions, the small human lifts her hips and lines his hard cock up with her entrance. Both of her hands find leverage on his shoulders, squeezing the taut flesh there, as she got into position. With a sharp hiss coming from him, his little mate begins to lower herself, letting him stretch her tight hole inch by inch.

"Oh great mother", Neteyam groans through gritted teeth, feeling her warmth embrace his cock as she sinks down on him, "Easy, go slow."

But his words fall on deaf ears, because the next thing he feels, is the suffocating tightness as she forces more of him inside her too quick. She whimpers and clenches around him, yet the little human tries everything in her might to get those last few inches of him inside.

Neteyams hands immediately grab her by her hips, his four fingers digging into the pillow-like flesh as he holds her firm so she’s unable to move any further.

"S-Stop that", he hisses and throws a pointed look at her, almost glaring as he clenches and unclenches his jaw, "You will hurt yourself, if you don’t slow down."

He would lie if he said he wasn’t as desperate as she was. In fact, Neteyam was fighting against his own body to rut up to take and take— take what’s his. Yet he wanted to let her do this, let her take on her own terms. But the reasonable and still rational thinking part of his brain told him that, even if she so desperately wanted to get stuffed like this, he had to be the one to remind her that she’s not supposed to hurt herself in the process.

A small pout formed on her lips at his words, but her face quickly turned into that of determination. He couldn’t deny the fact that he was amused by her strange antics today. But then he felt her shift, lifting herself off of him until only the very tip of his cock was still resting inside her. Neteyam, naïve as he was, allowed her this, loosening the grip around her hips.

It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to react in time, she slams herself down, her tight hole swallowing all of his length to the base.

"Fu-ck", Neteyam chokes out, once she sits on him properly, her full body weight and gravity pulling her down further than he thought was even possible. This position allowed him a new depth that neither of them had ever experienced before. He feels the head of his cock nestled against her cervix, pressed right against the opening to her womb and it makes him physically shudder.

"Are you trying to kill me, little one?", he grunts and when his eyes finally regain their focus, he sees the way his little mate pants heavily, sweat beading on the frame of her mask and her pupils blown, probably just as much as his own.

For a split second he’s worried for her well-being, that she could’ve hurt herself with that stupid stunt she just pulled. If that was actually the case, she must’ve been pretty good at hiding it, because her facial expression was nothing that came close to the ones you’d see if someone was in pain. It was the complete opposite of that.

The little human shakes her head as if she had lost her voice, breath still coming out shallowly. His eyes are glued to her, waiting for her to do whatever she wanted with his body.

It belonged to her by now.

"I– I want…", she whimpers and her face flushes an even deeper shade of red, her breathing almost fogging the inside of her mask. The soft, velvety walls of her cunt squeeze around him at her words and Neteyams eyes almost cross at that.

"What do you want, hm?", he coos, "Just take it. Take what you want, it’s all yours."

It takes her foggy brain a moment to translate his words, but he’s patient with her, like he always is. Instead of a verbal response, she decides to let her body do all the talking for her. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, moving her hips hard and fast— lifting herself up and down on Neteyams cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before she is slamming her whole body back down, turning herself into a moaning, whimpering mess.

Below her, Neteyam groans and his toes curl at the feeling of her tight heat swallowing him over and over again. He had leaned himself back on his palms to enjoy the full view of her, his mouth slightly agape as he watched her breasts bounce with every thrust. She was providing the perfect view of herself, moving how she pleased without a care for anything else.

Neteyam wanted to jerk up into her so badly. He wanted to slam into her, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into his mate.

Once again, Neteyam realized just how tiny she was compared to him. His eyes had wandered down on her soft curves, stopping at the bulge on her lower belly that was more visible in certain positions. One of his hands comes to caress the swell, where his cock was nestled deep inside her. It was always a miracle that she was even physically able to take all of him. "Feel me inside you, sweet little human? I‘m so deep, all the way up here. See?", he grunts with a breathy chuckle, "You’re taking me so well, always doing so good for me."

Her cheeks burned with the praise, even though she only understood half of the words that were spoken to her yet. Still, it didn’t stop her from responding, "m‘feeling s-so good, haa- fuck, fuck, yes! Oh my– god, feels so good!"

With the way she plunged his cock into her pussy over and over again, deeper with every thrust, he was certain that it must feel like he was already in her stomach. She was moaning like that was the case, at least. The sounds she knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans, grunts and sometimes even noises that sounded like whimpers, whenever his dick knocked on her cervix like an iron hammer.

"Neteyam, ahh– f-fuck, Neteyam", she moans and the sound of his name makes his cock throb inside her, "I‘m close, oh god I‘m gonna come!"

He knows these words by now, even if they’re spoken in the sky peoples tongue. It meant that she was nearing her sweet release.

Nodding, Neteyam then grabs her hips and when her breath hitches, she stays down against his pelvis, rotating her hips in circles and switching the direction randomly. Neteyam helps her grind herself against him, feeling her cunt pulse around him, her clit dragging against his skin before she slumped forward against his chest and her whole body went rigid. She gasped and moaned into his ear, her arms encircling his neck and holding him tight, while her legs twitched wildly on his sides.

"There you go, such a good girl", he coos softly, whispering the words of affirmation in her ear as she releases more slickness around his cock, "That’s it, come for me, let it all out. You’ve done so good, my pretty little mate."

She’s shuddering in his arms, broken sobs and whimpers leaving her parted lips and echoing under her exopack mask. Neteyam allows her a moment to breathe and collect herself, come down from the high of her orgasm in the warm embrace of his arms.

She still clings to him, even as he plants his feet firm on the ground. He keeps her flush with his chest, even as he spreads the soft cheeks of her ass with his big hands and then slowly thrusts up into her. She mewls and twitches, her body still sensitive from her previous orgasm, but Neteyam declares her as ready and capable enough to continue. It‘ll be quick anyways, with how hard and aching his cock was by now, throbbing inside her, so painfully desperate to finally reach his own release.

"Hmm, still so wet", Neteyam hums as he feels rich droplets of her arousal roll down his shaft and down on his balls, "You have another one in you, don’t you? Will you come for me again?"

The little human only sighs when his cock drives into her again, seemingly enjoying the feeling of being so full of him. Putting just a little more force behind his next thrust, she moans louder and Neteyam chuckles, "I want to come with you, so you have to hold it until I‘m ready, okay? Can you do that?"

Her first orgasm had already drained her to the point that she felt completely limp in his arms, her body covered in sweat that was sticking to him, mixing with his own, fusing them together as one. Her limbs still twitched with the aftershocks of her climax as he thrusted up and into her again, slowly picking up his pace to find a steady rhythm. Neteyam squeezed a handful of her ass cheeks, the supple flesh bouncing with the force of his pounding and she moaned so sweetly into his ear, completely ignoring his request.

"Hey, are you even listening?", he chuckled softly, sounding like the complete opposite of what he was doing to her.

"Hmm?", she hummed but it sounded more like a whine, muffled against the crook of his neck. Of course she didn’t listen. Well, even if she was, Neteyam realized he was probably asking too much of her again. It was already hard to communicate with her when she had the full brain capacity and focus to do so, but trying to get her to listen, translate the words and actually respond to him when she was this fucked out— impossible.

So he repeats the word that he can translate in her language. "Together", he whispers lowly in her ear and Neteyam could practically feel how the little hairs on the base of her nape raised at this. Her sweet pussy clenched and squeezed his cock so tightly, it caused him to groan from deep in his chest. Oh she definitely understood him this time.

His hips then snapped against hers and she tightened the hold of her arms around his neck for purchase.

She moans and whimpers foreign words in her alien tongue, like it’s been punched out of her by the sheer force of his thrusts. It's all garbled and sewn together, like vines weaving through the forest. Neteyam drinks it up, drinks up the begging and the pleases, the way she looks so blissfully fucked out and helpless in his arms while he forces her up and down on his cock.

Her inner walls cling tightly to his shaft, squeezing him, flexing around his warm, intruding length, coaxing him deep inside with each thrust.

Behind his back, he feels her arms shift around as if she was reaching for something and soon enough, he figures out what that something is. There’s a tug, just a gentle pull on the base of his nape, but it’s enough to make his hips stutter for a second.

"Wh–haa fuck, what are you doing?", he chuckles, albeit a little breathlessly, while the sound of skin slapping against skin still echoes through the forest. There’s no response, obviously, but Neteyam could already assume what she’s plotting.

Again, there’s a tug. This time, she had pulled just a little harder on his kuru and he couldn’t help but let a deep, wanton moan slip past his lips. The grip he had on her tightened to the point he was sure his fingers would leave bruises on her perfect skin.

So this is what it was about.

"You want to come, huh?", Neteyam asked her, even though he knew his question would remain unanswered, "Are you trying to get me to finish because you can’t– ca-haa— oh eywa, fuck!"

He’s interrupted by a feeling similar to electricity shooting through his body, tingling every nerve in his system and causing him to choke on his words.

Behind his back, he feels her hands move and yet again, a lightning of pleasure seers through his whole body. Neteyam just knew that if he would’ve turned his head to look back, he would’ve found her playing with the tendrils of his kuru just like she did earlier.

"S‘too much", he then hears the human whimper, "need to come so bad, please Neteyam I‘m- I can’t hold it!"

She’s a little more than a trembling, incoherent mess by now, the walls of your pussy bearing down around him as he plunges his cock into her. The squelching sounds of her arousal mixed with his pre-cum filled his ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned my sound of blood rushing to his head as she was pulling and fumbling with his kuru, her fingers dancing over the sensitive tendrils once again.

"Hmh that- that’s it", he groans, mouths it against her throat, "keep going. Yeah, just like that. Fuck, I’m close too."

The humans back arches as she suddenly begins to mover her hips again. She tries, tries so hard to fuck herself on his cock even though she’s completely exhausted and her legs must feel like jelly by now, yet it’s enough to drive him over the edge.

"teyaaam", she whimpers his name, or half of his name, and it’s the cutest yet most erotic sound his ears have ever heard before.

Her hands leave his kuru in order to grab onto whatever she could reach to steady herself, her dull nails scraping over his back, while he tightens his own hold on her. Neteyams arms encircle her middle completely now, pulling her close as he bucks his hips up and into her, until he’s not even thrusting anymore, it’s just grinding against each other.

Neteyam feels her insides pulsate, as if she was milking him for all his worth. Her legs tremble and every limb on her body tenses as she comes, clinging to him like her life depended on it. But he does too, squeezing her smaller frame and holding her as close as physically possible as he emptied his pleasure into her, filling her with his cum until he felt it leak out of her, leaving a sticky mess between their bodies.

For a moment, Neteyam feels nothing but the warmth of her body, the heat emerging from the little humans soft skin morphing into his own. He feels her chest expand, her lungs filling themselves with air, chest heaving from exhaustion. He also feels how she snuggles against him, a content hum leaving her lips that make his tail curl around her ankle as if trying to hold her even closer. Feeling his cock soften inside her makes her shudder and Neteyam can’t help but chuckle at this.

"Good lesson today", he snickers in the sky people’s language. Hearing his Na‘vi accent makes her giggle softly, which causes heat to rush to his cheeks.

Neteyam enjoys the comfortable silence that then falls over them, so he rests his chin on top of her head and closes his eyes for a while, just listening to the sound of her breathing and the familiar noises of the forest. But then the little human abruptly sits up, straightening her back to look at her mate. Immediately, Neteyams eyes are wide open again, the little hair on his tail raising in alert as she wordlessly scanned his face.

"It’s my turn to teach you a word", she tells him then and despite the fact that she was still entirely bare and sitting on top of him, her voice sounded small and shy. Neteyam felt a little startled at first, but his ears twitched inquisitively, ultimately giving away his inner thoughts.

"Hmh, is that so?", he hums, finally having found his voice again, "Okay then, teach me."

Her cheeks turn into a pretty shade of pink as he nods, giving her the affirmation to do as she pleases. Whatever it was that she wanted to teach him, he would listen.

To his horror, the little human then inhales a deep, sharp breath, her chest visibly expanding as air fills her lungs and then she hooks a finger under her exopack mask— but before he could even lift as much as a finger and bring her to an halt, she had already lifted the mask above her face, with a cute little grin plastered on her face as she held her breath.

Neteyam could only watch in complete shock, utterly dumbfounded. But then she surges forward, suddenly confident, and her lips find his. They move against each other, her arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed together as tightly as possible and Neteyam never wants to leave, never wants this to end. He moves his hand from her hip, reaches up to hold her face as she kisses him and he kisses her. She’s so warm. So soft. So sweet.

She called the rumbly sound he made when he was so content a purr, and he loved doing it for her. Loved the smile it brought to her lovely lips, how it sometimes made her giggle when their chests were pressed together almost like this.

The kiss was gentle but searing, slow but all-consuming at the same time. It was good. Addicting even.

Unfortunately, she ends it sooner than he’d like, but Neteyam knew all too well that she had to breathe again at some point. Still, he feels a little disappointed when her kiss-swollen lips leave his own.

By the time she leant back enough to look him in the eyes, her mask pulled back over her flushed face, they were both panting helplessly. But now they stare at each other, a sweet smile across her face and he breathes deeply, soaks up the deep emotion dwelling in his chest. He can’t name it, doesn’t know what she feels, but he wants to feel it again.

"Thats called a kiss in my language", she smiles sheepishly, the sight alone enough to make Neteyam feel warm all over.

"Kiss", he repeats the foreign word, testing the right pronunciation on his tongue. "I’d like to have another", he tells her grinning and she giggles. It’s the most beautiful sound hes ever heard and Neteyam thinks that maybe… maybe humans aren’t so bad at all. Not this one at least. Definitely not his human.

"Okay, since you’re so eager to learn today…", he brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze lingering on her soft looking lips for a few more seconds, before he meets her curious eyes, "I have something else for you."

"What is it?"

Neteyam looks at her– he really looks at her now, taking in all of her features that seemed so alien to him when they first met, but now they were so familiar, so loved and adored by him. And then, without missing a beat, he tells her,:

"Oel ngati kamaeia."

"And what does that mean?", she tilts her head, nuzzling it further into the palm that’s been holding her face.

"It means I see you, my little mate."

[writersdrug]

Nectar and Bane - Pt. 1

Pairings: Hunter!König x Witch!Reader

Pt. 2

Summary: König is hired to hunt down a pesky witch by a warlock, who paints you as the most evil thing in the past three centuries. With the promise of finding true love (or, the closest thing the warlock can offer: a brainwashed woman who is forced to dote on the hunter), König sets out on his journey. However, you aren't what he was expecting at all, and he develops a newfound obsession with making you become his.

Warnings: dubcon, mentions of rape, manipulation, kidnapping, sex pollen (kinda? If you squint? not really, but better safe than sorry), corruption kink, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of consuming human organs, unrequited pining, angst at the end, death (not for main characters), cowgirl, missionary, mating press, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, power imbalance, handjob, obsessive thoughts and behaviour (please let me know if I missed any!)

Notes: thought I'd try my hand a fantasy au version of cod, or at least of König. This is really long (over 15000 words) so I split it into two parts. The next part is pretty much done, I'm just exhausted and wanted to at least crank out half. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt 2!

ps if anyone has any suggestions or tips on how to make collages or banners for fics, pleeeaseeee lmk

translations at the end

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Watch your every step. From the moment you step foot into those woods, you can’t trust anything you see.

That’s what the sorcerer had drilled into his head before he had begun his journey. He called you dangerous, cunning… “A sneaky, meddling bitch…” he had grumbled over the table in that crowded tavern.

Two small pouches, one of silver, one of gold, sat in between the two patrons on the table. Stains of ale and coffee rings littered the unvarnished wood. The wax of the thick candle had trickled down and formed small, hardened pools at the base – its flame flickered weakly, casting unflattering shadows against the man’s weathered features, and making the portentous hood covering König’s face only that much more ominous.

He'd listened warily as the sorcerer described the witch – you. Tens of centuries old, too much knowledge and too little wisdom to use it sensibly. You take whatever you want by whatever means possible, and your favored method was using your physical assets and the promise of sexual devotion to coerce those within your web to do your bidding. “Sometimes it’s for her personal gain – sometimes, she does it for fun.” The warlock added bitterly. “Akin to a serpent, she winds you into her embrace, and then crushes your bones before she swallows you whole, saving your heart for last.” You’d done it to him, ensnaring him into your alluring trap, before stealing his spellbooks, his potions, his most prized collections… and vanishing into thin air.

An enchantress, König had concluded.

The warlock’s request? “Kill her. And be quick with it. The sooner this earth is rid of that swine, the sooner we can all rest. And, better yet – bring me her eyes! Potent things, witches’ eyes can be – of course, that is if they’re still working. If the bitch has gone blind, don’t waste dulling your dagger. A handful of her hair would do just fine.”

König had killed much worse for much less, and this sounded like it would be on the simpler side of things. A few days’ worth of hunting and a quick, efficient kill – hopefully, one of his easier jobs, although with the way the sorcerer described you, that might not be. He’d dealt with magicians before; up until now, they had been rather boring to hunt – tedious, but nonetheless, boring. Most of the time, they tried to end him with some elaborate incantation in the few seconds remaining of their life after he’d ambushed them. His silver blade would be slicing across their throats before they could utter five syllables. They were always so intent on murdering their victims slowly and in a flashy manner. With König’s preference for a more immediate result, he was usually the one collecting the fingernails, teeth, and tongues.

(Over time, he’d had noticed that it was always sorcerers ordering the assassination of other sorcerers. He wondered why they had so much of an issue amongst themselves, but he didn’t question it. Whatever kept him fed and paid for his room, he would do it.)

The picture the warlock was painting of you, however, made you seem much craftier and more calculated. You couldn’t resist the glamorous ways of murder via magic – it was written in your nature as a witch. But you played the game with your charisma and wit, too; something magic users didn’t typically rely on (half of the time, because they weren’t charismatic, nor witty). You waited until your assailant would fall to your wicked charm, before dissecting him like nothing more than a toad for your cauldron. If not an easy kill, you at least sounded like you would be an exciting one – but König knew he could get something more from this client for killing you.

“What more can you offer me?” he asked.

The warlock chuckled. “The gold is insufficient, is it?” he leaned forward and hunched his shoulders, speaking in a hushed tone. “Tell me, what do you desire? Recognition and respect? Revenge against someone who’s crossed you? To bring back a loved one from the dead? Or, perhaps, to find a love of your own?”

König’s shoulders tensed, and the rest of the warlock’s utterances fell on deaf ears. Could he possibly give him a chance to find himself someone to love? Someone that he and only he can worship? It was true that he would be happier to live alone, in whatever way that would allow him to be independent of society… but the thought of being able to live alone with someone, someone who was devoted to him, someone who could decorate his hut with signs of life and warmth, someone with a kind smile and a sweet voice, someone who he could spend hours upon hours with, memorizing each curve of their body, the taste of their nectar on his tongue…

He called it love. Others would call him insane. He’d heard it all before – how no one would ever love him, given his profession, his awkwardness in carrying a conversation about anything normal other than how sharp his knives are, and how he uses them… that, and the fact that he never shows his face (“He must be hideous under there…” they would speculate). Nonetheless, he still craved the devotion of an obedient, warm body waiting for him in his cabin at the end of the day – once he did get a cabin. Why should he be denied what everyone else wants?

He knew he was a hypocrite; he couldn’t expect someone else to be so willing to leave everything and run away with him. Not with his insane ideations and obsessions – hell, not with who he was as a person. But if he killed enough healthy rabbits to keep her fed, and if he fucked her hard enough that her eyes rolled back into her head and she couldn’t muster enough strength to escape the mattress… would she ever care about what kind of man he was?

The warlock smiled slowly. “Of course… that’s what all of you sick bastards want.” He said, leaning back and folding his arms. “If it will seal our contract, I will give you whichever woman you choose. I’ll make her yours, and only yours, with unconditional love – even for your damned soul.”

A fair deal, König had thought. Which is exactly what had him currently trudging through the dense woods, searching for any traces of a witch – a sack with two loaves of bread and some apples hung over his shoulder, along with his well-worn tashka stuffed with the coin he had earned over time. His sword was strapped to his hip in its sheath, his dagger (a short sword, when it was compared to the average person) stuffed into the lead-lined, deerskin sheath on the side of his boot; and a pelt, heavy and thick, hung around his shoulders. All he had to his name.

König had done a day of research on you – testimonies and sightings of you ghosting the perimeter of the woods at an early age, hoping to lure some poor soul away as your very first victim. “I imagine she was a succubus in her previous life,” the warlock had spoken, “maybe too much of a whore for even the devil to handle.”

He had caught you one night by luring you to his cabin with the scent of a savory meal. Guessing by your inexperience, and the way you avoided using words as you snarled and thrashed in the warlock’s grip, he assumed you had not yet reached one hundred years old. You were still young and fresh-faced, appearing no more than twenty to human eyes. “After a few decent meals, and reintroducing her to the work of her past life – she’d settled in as the perfect student. It almost felt like having a pet.” He added with a smug smile.

König questioned how happy you were with being reintroduced to the work of your past, but he didn’t comment on it.

After living with the warlock as his student and whore for a few centuries, you turned into a strong, young witch. You didn’t care to go into town, preferring to stay at the cabin and watch over the brews whenever he had to make deliveries or run to the shops. The warlock had no complaints about your desire to stay holed up in his home – fewer people to ogle at you, fewer glimpses into a more civilized life that might tempt you to run away. He’d much rather you be a brooding, antisocial bitch, than watch one of his clients stare at you with a yellowed, lustful grin, like you were some harlot in the window of a brothel.

On one particular day, without any indication of what you were planning, he had returned home from his rounds to an empty cabin – not just empty of you, but of his potion stock, his rarest ingredients, and his most prized spellbooks. He’d run into the woods in fury, screeching your name and hurling threats into the trees around him – but you were gone. Not a trace of you could be found within a five mile radius of his home.

It was like you had never been there, save the absence of his personal belongings.

In König’s opinion, you didn’t strike him as an extremely dangerous individual. Sure, the warlock had harped on and on about how cunning and deceiving you were – but all you had done was lie to him. And from the way he had described the conditions you were under, König didn’t exactly blame you for running away. Maybe this job was a waste of his time…

Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain, despite the nip of the mid-autumn air, and the fact that he was embarking on what might be one of the most treacherous endeavors of his career. He was getting a decent payout for it – that is, if he lived to finish the job. Additionally, the scenery was a comfort to his journey; wiry birch trees stood high and thickly clustered, their brown and black spots like ever-watchful eyes, staring at the gargantuan hunter as he moved. Their golden leaves mimicked the light of the sun, the real thing blocked out by the overcast skies. A whisper of wind flew by his ears, carrying down and blowing the leaves further along his path with a gentle sigh. As if nature herself was telling the world to be quiet, be still, and prepare for winter.

It was times like this where König became unsure of himself. What if he hated having someone else to care for? What if, deep down, he preferred the silence and the solitude? But then, the loneliness would strike him. The longing to be understood (if that was humanely possible), and the desire to have something warm, alive, and sentient to acknowledge him. It consumed him on those sleepless nights, perfectly warm by the hearth of whatever inn he resided at, yet so hollow without having someone to wrap his arms around.

A swaying movement in the branches above pulled him from his thoughts. Hanging down by a twine thread, tied to one of the spindling birch branches, was a tiny, burlap pouch. It reached a few feet above König’s head, and was drenched in a dark, thick liquid that dripped rhythmically onto the forest floor. Looking to where the drops landed, he noticed the matter on the ground was decaying – a steaming pile of rot was all that was left of the leaves that were once there.

He frowned. The trap was clever – for a witch in their first century. König had expected something a bit more dangerous for someone your age. Maybe the last hunter had been too gullible, and you stereotyped them to all be oafs. Or, maybe you were too old and couldn’t craft traps with the same skill and precision as your younger self.

He drew his dagger from his boot and quickly sliced the twine thread. The pouch dropped to the floor with a squelch, landing in the very puddle of death it had created. The liquid beneath it bubbled and hissed, and the bag soon dissolved to reveal its contents: bits of bone – a kind of reptilian foot, from the looks of it – dried pomegranate seeds, and a fuzzy layer of mold, all appearing to be drenched in some kind of blood.

He carefully stepped around the stinking mess, his eyes turning back onto the path to continue his hunt. He both hoped for and against finding more evidence of your existence. He wanted to get back to town as soon as he could, so he could hole himself up in an inn until his money began to run out – all the same, his mind craved a puzzle and a chase. Though, with how old you were, he doubted there would be much of a chase.

More leaking, swaying hex bags hung from branches as he trudged on, pointing him in the right direction. He didn’t bother to quiet the sound of the leaves beneath his footsteps – the rustling of the wind through the foliage was doing the job well enough. He held onto his dagger tightly, his other hand on his longsword, as he carefully toed through the dense forest. He had to be close – the smell of fennel and turmeric settled around his presence, along with the babbling of a nearby stream.

The sound of a distant tune danced through the trees. The voice was soft, yet clear, and whoever it belonged too was much too confident that they were alone in these woods. König wondered if it was actually you, and not some poor soul who had been foraging for the autumn mushrooms and berries – but he was nearly a day’s trek into the forest. No one would dare come out this far, unless they wanted to be alone. And, they were potentially hiding from something; their own past, perhaps.

He cautiously followed the sound of the tune, still disguising the sound of his own steps within the rustling leaves and wind. His heart thrummed with both uncertainty and excitement; he always did get too thrilled at the idea of a struggle and blood covering his hands. He took a deep breath in through his nostrils, focusing his attention on the voice that carried through the trees, pulling him closer and closer… He gripped his dagger tightly as he crept, reminding himself of the warlock’s warning: cunning, sneaky – be on your best wits.

The voice brought him to the edge of a clearing. The birch trees parted and encircled a few meters of earth, and a few bushes huddled along the far edge, dotted with purplish berries and thorned branches. A wicker basket, woven clumsily and rather lopsided, sat on the ground and caught each berry and branch that was tossed into it. A figure knelt in front of the bushes, carefully plucking the berries with thin, delicate fingers, stained purple from the juice of the berries, and nails that might need a trim soon, unless they were intended to be claws.

The cloaked figure confused König. The voice was too melodic, too clear and fresh for an old witch. He had assumed you weren’t much younger than the warlock, but still old. He remained a few yards away from you, shrouded by the trees and dense foliage outside of the clearing.

It was when you turned your head, dropping your handful of berries into the basket, revealing your face, that he realized how wrong he had been in his assumption.

Your skin was soft, he could tell even with the distance between the two of you. Your lips delicately moved as you sang your tune, your eyes sparkled in contrast to the dull autumn colors that surrounded you. Small wisps of your hair danced around your cheeks as the wind caressed it. Your entire body looked soft, warm, and pliable… exactly what he needed. Craved.

It wasn’t hard for him to imagine it: leaves tangling into your hair as he pressed his fingers around your neck, pushing you to the cold ground and watching as you gasped for air. He’d use his knife, but not to kill you. He’d drag it over your hardened nipples, watching them perk up even more at the prickling sensation, before he’d carve his name into your stomach. Smear your pretty blood all over your pretty face, watch as your eyes widen with horror, as you question how someone can be so deranged and cruel, how he can take so much pleasure in something so vile and horrible-

Or maybe, he could convince you that he just wants a fuck. You looked like you could use one – when was the last time you’d had someone’s lips on your breasts, or their cock in your cunt? It had certainly been too long for him… he couldn’t imagine how long you had gone without being thoroughly ravaged, living in these woods all alone. He could take care of that. He could be gentle, for a little while; holding your wrists above your head as he pushed you against a tree, whispering praise and encouragements into your ear, “… so gut, so Schön, genau so…” taking you from behind as your nipples perked up from the rough texture of the bark, listening to you whine and moan in that sweet voice of yours as he lets out months’ worth of pent up frustration by thrusting his cock into your warm pussy, over and over and over until you scream and tighten around his length, milking the cum right out of him as he fucks you deep, maybe sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck-

He growled quietly, palming his rapidly-growing erection as he tried to clear his head. Stay focused. Kill the witch, and then you’ll get what you want.

Remember the warlock’s promise.

Even if he didn’t need you to satisfy his needs, he could still make this interesting. Not like you could outrun him, anyway.

He stepped into the clearing, and as if by some ironic joke, the wind died down immediately. The crunch of his heavy boots was enough to make his presence known to any living thing within a mile radius.

Your singing stopped. You whipped your head in his direction, and immediately a look of fear fell upon your face. For a moment, the two of you were frozen in a staring contest. You reminded him of a doe, staring at the crossbow of the hunter you had noticed, wondering if this being was actually dangerous, or nothing you needed to worry about. He wondered what he must remind you of, and he wished to hear the panicking thoughts flitting through your mind.

Finally, you broke the trance – you gasped, stumbling backwards and awkwardly standing as you ripped a pathetic, little knife from your boot. You faced him and pointed the knife at him – you held it improperly, and if he truly wanted to make this messy, he could easily make you stab yourself in a struggle. He wondered what it would feel like when your nails dug into his rough skin, dragging marks down his forearms (or his back, if he played his cards right).

You pulled the thick cloak tighter around your body – you were tiny. Well, everything was tiny compared to König. But you were unexpectedly small. With the way the sorcerer had described you, he had expected you to reach his shoulders at least. But there you were, craning your neck to look up at him with fearful, owlish eyes.

“State your business!” You demanded, your voice cracking slightly.

König chuckled in response. You really were too pathetic for your own good, weren’t you? He took you in – your lips were pulled into a frown, parted slightly to reveal your perfect teeth, the way the fabric of your cloak quivered where it bunched in your fist… perfectly ordinary things that ordinary people do. But, besides the fact that you were a witch, something about you made it all so captivating.

“Hey!” you shouted, bringing his eyes back to your gaze. Your fear had given way to a judgmental ire. “Gods, have you ever seen a woman before?!”

König scoffed. “Woman? Yes, of course. I’ve seen witches, too. None as young as you, however.”

Your eyes widened in panic once again. You stretched your knife out towards him as he stalked over to where you stood. “S-stay back! I’ll kill you!”

Your meek threat didn’t slow him down. He continued his advance until he had corralled you against a tree, your one hand bracing against the trunk behind you, and the other holding the knife under his ribcage. The only thing between his flesh and your blade was his linen tunic, which wouldn’t do much to protect him should you decide to stab him – but were you capable of that? Your eyes were so filled with fear as they stared at him, your chin to the sky to take all of him in. Your fingers trembled around the handle of your knife as if the prospect of having to nick him made you uneasy.

“Not with magic?” he asked, his eyes flitting to the bush next to you. He plucked one of the berries between his thick, gloved fingers, rolling the onyx sphere between his thumb and middle finger before squashing it.

You pouted (a sight König could never grow tired of). “I’m not a wi-“

He snatched your forearm, and you yelped, dropping the knife to the forest floor. His fingers easily wrapped around you; he wondered how easy it would be to break it.

“Don’t lie, now.” He ordered, his eyes narrowing with a hint of annoyance. “You’re not good at it.”

He released your arms with a shove. You scrambled back with a fearful expression, swiping the blade from the ground. He watched with interest as you stood several yards away from him, pointing your weapon towards him once again.

“Fine.” You said, holding yourself a bit taller. “You’re right. What’s the crime in that?”

For a moment, König was lost. Why weren’t you trying to weaponize your magic? It was almost as if you had forgotten you weren’t a human. For someone who was supposed to be a cunning bitch, as the warlock had put it, you weren’t very smart.

“I’m not here for justice.” He replied, wiping his glove on his shirt. “Just doing my job.”

“Hunter?” you asked.

He extended his arms – gods, he could have crushed a pillar between those arms – as if presenting himself to you. “Was it not obvious?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his tone.

You huffed. “Well, you’re not a very good one. Most hunters don’t make conversation with their prey.”

Prey. He liked that you understood your position, that he was the one in charge here. Maybe you were a clever girl…

“I like to listen to the begging.”

“Begging?”

“For your life.” König folded his arms over his chest, inspecting you closely. The only thing you had to protect yourself was your cloak, and that hardly provided a shield against the wind. Even though you were obviously wary of him, it wasn’t wary enough. You had spoken too many words with the hunter, and had it been anyone else, you might have been dead long before now.

You seemed malleable – book-smart and spitfire, yet all too gullible. Easily manipulated. Just what he needed to brainwash you into loving him. Or, at least, being his pet. You’d never truly love him, he had come to learn that from experience. But maybe, if he could somehow convince you that you needed a big, scary man, who could protect you and fuck you nicely, it would be enough to make you stay. After all, you were too naïve to be alone out here, weren’t you?

Could the warlock perhaps make you his prize? It’d kill two birds with one stone, he could convince you to return whatever knickknacks you had stolen, and your presence would never bother anyone ever again – besides him, but of course, it would never be a bother to bed you every night.

Your expression turned sour. “I don’t beg.”

The tone of your voice sent a shiver down his cock. He’d have to pound that little attitude right out of you.

“Who hired you?” You asked indignantly. The knife in your hand had slowly lowered, now pointing at his feet. Your initial fear seemed to have worn off. Were you brave, or just that stupid?

“It doesn’t matter.” König replied.

“It does to me.”

“You don’t know? How many people have you wronged?”

You scoffed. “I haven’t wronged anyone. People just don’t like it when you call them out on their atrocities.”

König hummed. You had a point. “Your teacher – the warlock.”

For a moment, you scrunched your face in disgust. Teacher. Only a fool as mad as the warlock himself could consider he was any such figure in your life, other than a torturous one. Then, you sighed, shoulders slumping defeatedly, the knife now aimed straight at the forest floor. “That old toad can’t even kill me himself…” you muttered. “What payment did he offer you?”

“He promised me anything I desired of your possessions.” König replied, taking note of the change in your presence. He purposely left out the warlock’s promise to find him a “companion.”

“And what would you do with cursed fig seeds, or stag’s blood?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest (which, König noted, framed your breasts perfectly). “I have no gold – not enough to be a reward for the trouble of killing me.”

“He gave me three hundred gold coin, too.”

Your lips turned down into a scowl. “That’s all?! That absolute hypocrite!” You lodged your knife into the tree behind you and placed your hands on your hips. “I took everything from him, save that disgusting old shed he called home, and that’s all he’ll pay to kill me?!”

Your outburst pulled König from his obsessive staring. “You’re… insulted?”

You turned back to him and huffed. “Well, obviously.” You retorted. “I stole all he had to his name, and he treats me like a fly buzzing in his ear. I deserve a bit more recognition than three hundred gold coin.”

“You admit to it, then.” König said, stepping closer. You appeared to be too angry to notice how near the hunter was to you. “You are a thief.”

You laughed – a sound that König did not expect to be so sweet. “I’ve done much worse than thieving, mind you.” You shook your head. “And he’s done even worse to me.” You sighed, pulling the dagger from the tree trunk and sheathing it back into your boot.

Once again, he was reminded of how small you were. Why weren’t you afraid of him? Sure, you had the advantage of magic while he did not, but you weren’t even acting defensively anymore. You treated him like a traveler who had stumbled across your path, starting up conversation and sharing your story.

“What has he done?” he asked, his interest in you growing by the second. An outcast, despised, hated by others. He felt that the two of you were kindred spirits, and he would not risk losing a connection so rare – one he had never felt.

“You mean he didn’t even tell you?” you said, sounding more hurt than anything else.

“He did.” König sheathed his own dagger as a peace offering. “But I’m coming to think he was not entirely truthful.”

You sighed, looking down at your basket, then back at König. “I suppose I could tell you, since he brought you all this way to kill me. Walk with me – but keep your dagger away. And if you try anything, I’ll slit your throat. Understood?”

He suppressed the urge to laugh. Could you even reach his throat? “The warlock said you would lure me away to your hut, and carve out my heart.”

You huffed disappointedly, walking back to the bush near König. Completely calm, like he had only ever come up to you with the intention of finding a friend. “And yet, he’s still alive, after all the chances I had to kill him. We can stay outside of my hut, if it eases your mind. I’ll let you make your own tea, too. But if you aren’t set on killing me right this minute, I really should return to start drying these out.” You held up your basket. “Before too much time passes, and I can no longer use them.”

König had never given his prey more than a few moments to try and beg their way out of his crushing hands. He couldn’t believe he had even given so much lenience to your baseless trust in him – what he should have done was take the opportunity to grab your face and snap your neck. But he was starting to doubt the warlock’s testimony; you were a thief, yes, but had you really committed any crime? Or were you simply just taking the revenge you deserved from your captor – or, as the warlock called himself, your master?

König sighed. He gestured his hand out, signaling for you to lead the way.

You frowned. “First, give me your word.” You demanded.

“I will not harm you.” He said, with a hand over his heart. He didn’t care about forcing you to make the same promise – you were harmless enough. He did, however, make sure to avoid saying that he wouldn’t touch you. Although he was developing a few ounces more of respect for you, who knows? Maybe you would find a reason to drag him into your hut and satisfy both of your needs – and, if he was lucky enough to get that far, maybe you’d offer for him to spend the night in a warm bed, and he could be saved from sleeping on the cold earth for one night.

His word seemed promising enough to you. Threading your arm through the handle of the basket, you began marching through the woods, watching the ground carefully as you stepped over roots and twigs.

König followed by your side, watching you from the corner of his eye. You really were helpless – all it would take is a strong push from him, and you’d be tumbling down, maybe hitting your head on a stone, or rolling down the mountainside until your neck snapped. Even if the fall didn’t kill you, he could easily land one hit to your chest and pierce your lungs with your own ribs. But here you were, worrying more about the uneven forest floor than the lumbering creature by your side.

“What did he tell you?” you asked, pulling him from his fantasies. “About the beginning, when he took me.”

König laughed in pity. “He made it sound like he caught you, not that he took you.”

You sighed. “He didn’t catch me… well, I suppose he did. More like how animals are caught.” You adjusted your grip on the basket, still watching the ground beneath you. “I was the botanist’s assistant before he came along. Stared at me like I was naked. He would come more often than he needed to -  asked me where I was from, who my father was – things I didn’t understand why he needed to know. I still don’t.”

König didn’t understand himself. He continued to listen, the sounds of his footsteps drowning out your quiet ones. He began to wonder just how much of the warlock’s testimony was true.

“He came to the shop one night.” You continued to recount the story. “I was lighting the lanterns in the greenhouse. It was storming, and I didn’t hear him. He bludgeoned me and dragged me into the streets like I was some sort of animal.” You paused, turning your own words over in your head. “I suppose I was, to him.

He brought me back to his cabin – that’s when he started the curse. All I remember when waking up is feeling sick. I tried to stand, but it- everything felt heavy, like I was stuck in mud. I managed to crawl outside, and he was there. Saying my father wouldn’t recognize me, that he had killed the old lady at the botanist, that everyone would think that I had killed her… that I would be burned if I returned to the village. That I would forever be an outcast as long as I lived – as a witch. As what he made me.”

You paused again, for longer this time. König looked down at you, observing how your face twisted in… disgust? Anger? Your eyes were somewhere else, possibly somewhere where you could light the world on fire, drain the life from everyone who had ever done you wrong. König had felt that same hatred before, and he had learned to let it pass. You were still stuck there, wishing you could drive a blade into the warlock’s neck – and more.

“You stayed, then?” König asked, returning his gaze to the trees before him. “Why?”

You scoffed. “It’s not like I could go anywhere, not during the change. For the first fortnight, I couldn’t do anything but crawl on the ground and wail. And he let me – I’d get to the edge of the woods, and he’d be there to drag me back. Drug me into the hut at night and held me, fucked me, saying he was protecting me and similar bullshit. Of course, he was right; at that moment, I was as good as dead if I had ventured out on my own. And once I’d gotten my strength back, I was still a new witch. I’d never be accepted into the village – witches never are, despite the warlocks being the vile ones – and I had no idea how to live as one. So I relied on him for a while, until I knew enough to make it out on my own.”

König hummed in thought. Despite the initial desire to snatch you himself and have his way with you, his fists clenched at the thought of you being dragged around by the warlock. This life wasn’t one you had chosen, and yet the very person who had forced it upon you was killing you for it. It made something within him boil, something deep and buried, that he had thought had been tucked away for good.

You didn’t deserve any of this. He was fighting with himself in that moment, but the desire to show you what you should have been given was consuming him. He wanted to tell you that he knew what it was to be an outcast, he knew what it was like to feel lonely and crave being alone at the same time. To wish that you had the power to hurt anyone you deemed deserving of it, yet to have that someone who would never hurt you.

He would do it. He would be that person for you, he would be the one to kill for you. He knew he was getting ahead of himself – after all, he was hired to kill, you, not fall for you. And he knew it was just another one of his delusional fantasies… but he couldn’t help himself. You were like him, which was something that he had not yet been able to find. Something primal in him told him to sink his teeth in, to hold onto you until you stopped your struggling and realized that this would be good, for the both of you.

He was insane. But did it matter what he was, as long as he could give you what you needed?

“So, yes-“ you continued, bringing König out from the depths of his thoughts. “- I stole from him. Took the books he used to teach me, maybe a few ingredients for potions, a few seeds to start my own garden… but compared to what he took from me, I might as well have taken a loaf of bread.”

You stopped suddenly, and König came to a halt beside you. You nodded your head to the scene before you. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

König looked ahead: the trees parted into another clearing, larger this time. A rickety hut leaned against a wall of rock, made of thin, birch logs and mud slathered on top to keep out the wind. In the center of the clearing was a large stone, positioned near a pile of ash and rocks. A log lay near it, possibly another place for someone to sit. A small garden sat closer to the creek before your hut – it didn’t look to be doing very well, but that was expected as winter approached.

By the creek, there was a large, twisted oak. Its roots hung directly off of the bank and down into the water. Its leaves had fallen to the earth and mingled with the rest of the foliage by now – the entire thing had crimson paths winding around it, hauntingly similar to blood-filled veins. Several pieces of clothing and fabric hung from the branches and swayed in the autumn wind.

As you marched ahead, placing your basket down by the makeshift firepit and disappearing into the hut, König took a few, cautious steps forward. He was both charmed by the simplicity of it, and despondent that you were forced into this lonesome sort of life. He wanted to drag you from this measly hovel and show you something better.

But how? He was no better off than you were. All his earnings were spent on a room at the nearest tavern and a decent amount of ale to help him fall asleep. He never cared about having a home, as long as he had a place to keep out the cold. He didn’t think it would be good enough to drag you back to the village and convince you to spend the night with him in a thin-walled, noisy inn… but, even if he didn’t end up killing you today (something that seemed more and more likely with each passing second), he refused to leave you in this hell. If it was a cozy cabin, built so far away from civilization for the sole purpose of privacy and comfort, he could understand. Maybe even plead his case to you so you would let him stay. But this – this was a last resort. A broken down spot in the woods that you made for your banishment, for hiding. This wouldn’t do.

Call him insane. Call him crazy, hopeless, sick in the head… maybe his desires were founded on the thought that he would give you what he had never received.

You emerged from your hut, the thin, wooden door clanging shut behind you. You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Why was he still standing at the edge? You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and made your way over to him, your hair blowing across your face.

He watched as you stopped in front of him, your brow creased with question. Your head tilted back to look up at him, yet any traces of fear that you had shown earlier were gone. You looked at him like you’d known him for the past hundred years. It made his heart ache within his chest.

How could anyone have painted such a wretched picture of the woman who stood before him?

“Is everything alright?” you asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Like I said before, if you’d rather we stay outside-“

König interrupted you, reaching down and grabbing the sides of your arms firmly. You sucked in a breath warily, but you were still not afraid of him.

“I- you-“ Scheisse, what is he trying to say? He wanted to take you away, he wanted to show you how similar the both of you were to each other, he wanted to show you what (he thought) love was – slow, gentle, possessive, and strong. He wanted to keep you in his pocket, both to keep you safe from the world, and to make sure you couldn’t be taken from him. He wanted you, you, you –

This is insanity. He knew it. But that didn’t stop the fire in his chest, and the questionable throbbing in his trousers.

You knew. Your eyes said everything as they softened, as your lips pressed together into a knowing, sad smile. Were you going to turn him down? Would you say that you preferred it this way, that you liked being alone and living like a prisoner on the run? You took his face in his hands, and he had a foreboding sense in his gut that you might tell him to leave.

Quickly but gently, he cupped one hand at the back of your neck and pulled himself down to you, pressing his lips to yours before you could speak. It was only right, he thought, as he held the kiss – you didn’t understand that he could help you, he could build the life you deserved and keep you safe from any other hunters and warlocks. He placed his other hand on your lower back and pulled you in, moving his lips against your own and praying you wouldn’t deny him.

Like an angel answering his prayers, you tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes and kissing him back. He tugged his teeth at your bottom lip, and you so graciously allowed his tongue to slip past your teeth, letting him taste you. He whined, flooded with relief that you didn’t try to shove him away and call him deranged.

His cock was quickly growing hard, but he ignored it. Right now, he needed to figure out exactly what he needed to say to make you-

A raven’s call tore through the air, piercing his thoughts. It was much too close than any bird would naturally be.

He tried to turn his head in its direction, but you dug your fingers into his hair, making him stutter and freeze on the spot. He grabbed your hips, about to pry you away-

You pressed your lips firmly to his, and he heard you faintly muttering incoherent words against him. The world around him was suddenly showered with colors: purples like the berries that had stained your fingers, oranges like the leaves that were scattered across the ground, silvers like the thick clouds that blanketed across the sky… The black spots on the birch trees suddenly blinked and flitted across his vision; thousands of them stared at him, and he heard your sweet laughter echoing in the distance as the world spun, spun, spun…

He felt the cold earth press to his cheek, and the last thing he remembered was a sickening ache in his stomach.

He should have heeded the sorcerer’s warning.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"… so gut, so Schön, genau so…”

... so good, so beautiful, just like that...