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#demonic-banshee-likes
dnd-smash-pass-vs · 3 months
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On the left, the Incubus/Succubus. They're the same species, mortals just refuse to believe that shapeshifters can have a preferred presentation. These are seducers with magical charms who will morph into a 10/10 person of your dreams, but are really just trying to fill a void of longing. Relatable! They're also really intelligent, which combines with that charisma to make them great for conversation. By the way, when you're charmed whatever you do doesn't count in the eyes of gods, despite you not actually being fully controlled. So all the fun times you want without the guilty conscious or risk of sin!
On the right, the banshee! Depressed, avoids the company of the living, can't venture more than 5 miles from home, loves art, and hates her reflection. So plenty in common with many of us! :D Seriously though, it's an angsty ghost elf.
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jethrowest · 6 months
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i’ve been dead and i wanna come out…
- afraid by sarah fimm
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Hood, with you, trying to live a slower-paced, easier life. How he deals with it. How you both do. How you love each other and express it.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: mental struggle/anguish, mentions of trauma, hurt/comfort, angsty sex. 18+
He hides among the hollow of your breast, whimpering into it like a wounded dog. You smooth your hands down the muscles lining his spine, soothing him with repetitive motion. “It’s okay. You’re safe here. Fall into me. I’ve already caught you. There you go…”
He nuzzles against you, tears seeping into the burn of his cheeks. He draws you so close to him, squeezing your back like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his yearning for a simpler life, like you’ll stay behind and be consumed by the flames of his past.
“I’m so proud of you,” you continue, kissing the top of his head, your lips brushed by the concentrated points of his buzz cut. “You’re a good man. A good man. And I love you more than I’ve loved anyone or anything.” You grip his face and lift him up. Knotted brow, dried tears, wet lashes. A fresh one rolls into the angle of your thumb, stroking along his ignited skin.
He slackens his jaw and stares deeply into your eyes. He hates coming undone like this. His heart beats rapidly in his ears.
Releasing you, he gathers the shirt you’re wearing- his shirt- and hastily removes it. You sit naked upon the counter, your hair messy from the fabric pulling it upward. His mouth opens briefly, taking you all in before drawing you into a desperate kiss. He moves harshly against you, squeezing his eyes shut and scooting you toward the edge.
You taste his salt on your tongue. Experiencing it fully, his hands on your aching hips- aching from his intense emotions forging a home within you, becoming yours as well- makes you cry with him. Quietly, softly.
This is what he does. Breaks others down. Destroys. Why should you be any different?
He decides, suddenly, that he needs to be inside you. His thumb strokes your clit and you moan into his mouth. He twitches in his sweat pants, his need for a distraction, to pour all that he has somewhere else, making him throb uncomfortably.
When he’s sure you’re aroused enough, he hooks his fingers beneath you and you simultaneously wrap your limbs around him as he carries you to the bedroom.
He’s so warm, a sharp transition from the constant chill of the kitchen’s countertop. You wonder what’s brought this on, but you don’t question him. You’re both in survival mode, even when it comes to what others might deem simple. As commonplace.
When things settle and relax, neither of you are able to follow that pace. You’re never fully at ease.
But it’s all you want. It’s all you can think about. It makes you tense further. You should be able to move like everyone else. You shouldn’t be stuck. But you are.
You unravel together. Somehow, somehow. Two irreparably damaged people discover ways to fit their broken pieces together. Find solace among your individual suffering.
Despite his evident impatience, you are placed upon the tangled sheets with care and consideration. You can’t help but search his tender yet violence-ridden expression, caress his hard cheekbones, taut jawline. He slides out of his loungewear and positions himself in front of your parted center. You’re open to him. More than you’ve ever been with anyone, including yourself.
You both gasp when he enters you, your lower half pulling him as close to you as possible. His hands are on either side of your head, and for what feels like an eternity, he can’t look at or touch you. He simply loses himself inside your heat; your inviting, comforting body, swallowing thickly as he increases his rhythm.
He loves you so much. Why does that lead him to dragging you into his impossible, opaque depths? Why won’t he release you to the light? Why does he keep you here, trapped within his pain? Surrounded by yours as well?
Why won’t he release you?
With a strangled groan, a sound that causes your concern for him to rise along with the stimulating sensations he provides- a sound that twists and wrings your insides out like a wet rag- he holds your hips down, thumbs digging into your vulnerable flesh. He’s too fast now, all-at-once. Skin slapping skin, raw, unyielding
You should be free. He should set you free. But he forces you deeper into his chaos, into him. He forces you to believe you’ll be in a better place some day. You’ll be happy.
You’re starting to hurt. It’s not what it might have began as.
Again, you take his face in your hands, trying to get him to look at you, to focus, and you squeeze. “Slow… slow down, honey, please, I’m not… going anywhere…”
Hot tears collect in the corners of your eyes. But he slows. For a few seconds, it doesn’t seem like he will. Like he’s too far gone.
You wish you could read his thoughts. What he’s truly reacting to, reaching for. Is being here enough?
Past the blood roaring in his ears, he is able to hear you. Attuned to the slightest of your shifts. He falls into you like you told him he could. He shudders from the sobs that suddenly overtake him. And he affixes himself to you, still inside. You keep him there. You don’t move away from his firm, distraught embrace.
You tip your head back as far as it will go. You pulsate, unsure of what will happen next. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you. You know he endures enough as it is. You know this is a break, a flood; that this is something you can mend and love as if it’s yours.
He’s held your burdens just as close to his own chest.
Your fingers flow across his back, like before. You pause when you return to the tops of his shoulders. You soak him up, gather him to you. Let him do what he needs to.
Finally, he lifts himself. His movements are uncertain, but they encompass a specific kind of strength. His breaths are hot, panting against your neck. You feel his tears seep into your skin. What previously formed in your eyes also escapes, moisture eventually disappearing back inside you.
His gaze is heavy when it meets yours.
He wants to speak, you can tell. You’re in no hurry, no rush. So you stare at each other, feeling him gradually calm, his heart beat a steadier rhythm.
Your throat is dry, nearly closing. He kisses your nose, your cheeks, your jaw; your lips. His tears stick to you.
“You,” his voice wavers. “You looked so peaceful.” A small, watery smile flickers over his mouth. “You made me breakfast.”
You laugh gently, a little strained from the amount of emotions that tore through you these last few minutes.
“I promise I didn’t burn it.”
He laughs now, tickling the tepid tips of your features.
“I didn’t mean… I-” You press your index to his lips, tilting your head. He exhales, smile fading into a sincerity you’re not sure you’ve seen before. He grasps your wrist and rests your open palm to the curve of his cheek.
“No apologies. Just… show me how grateful you are. Who knows. Might earn you a lifetime supply of breakfasts.”
His mouth twinges, floating between a perplexed and hopeful grin.
Hopeful, he realizes.
“We’ll, uhhh…” he rasps, clearing his throat, “-be here all day if I show you how grateful I am. Won’t even get to enjoy the meal you cooked.”
You smile, the mood change a slow burn as opposed to a devastating burst of flames. Your fingertips are gentle but firm at the nape of his neck. You pull him in for a sweet, lingering kiss. He still tastes like salt.
The hands that hold you no longer dismantle. They might tear and rip at the smallest sign of normalcy. But they won’t bleed you out in the process.
You can bleed together. It won’t kill you anymore.
You choose to live.
Starting with breakfast.
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H E L P, there's a species of demons that are the size of ants that don't speak or understand the language the human sized demons use😭❤ what am i supposed to do with this information? what other species are there?
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kneworder · 9 months
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teen wolf is at its heart a show about teenagers turning into horrible monsters. their awareness of this fact alternates every other season. neatly sidestepped the constantly oneupping their villains until they have to fight god problem that so many teen dramas fell for by just doing the same thing every single season and getting away with it.
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abyssalstardust · 1 year
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Sometimes you hear a fucked up unidentifiable animal noise outside in the middle of the night and are like yeah okay this is why people believe in demons
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curseofbreadbear · 1 year
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@jammedmuses ❤’d! ( for banshee! )
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❝ I am a warning. I am a threat. If you choose not to fear me, you'll regret it. ❞
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corruptwave · 1 year
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this is what trimax ch.32/33 vash should sound like, imo.
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misterbaritone · 6 months
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God I hope that new DMC anime is good because that first one was such dogshit
#the main thing that bugged me was the action scenes#Now I understand that since these are the smaller missions between the world ending shit Dante isn’t going to be challenged much at all by#these monsters of the week but why does the choreography have to be so average#the anime came on in a post DMC3 world the action outta look like a cutscene from that game#but instead it’s a blade clash here a bullet spam there just real milquetoast stuff#and that’s when you can actually SEE the action! Most times the anime cuts away from the combat or finds some other way to block it out#Even if the action wasn’t to the level of DMC3’s cutscenes this is still a poor showing for the studio that made Hellsing Ippo and OPM S1#that main grimace aside everything else was just…. kinda forgettable#the episodic story idea was pretty smart but it fell flat since most of the episodes were snoozefest#Seriously the only episodes I clearly remember are the first one and the one with Sparda’s apprentices#I can remember select MOMENTS from the other eps like Lady vs Trish or the strawberry sundae scene or the banshee rockstar lady fight#but I can’t actually remember the shit that led up to or followed any of that stuff#seriously how do you make the slice-of-life adventures of a Demon Hunter so uninteresting?#probably doesn’t help that said demon Hunter is pretty boring this time around. seriously all Dman does is mope about and complain#even if I subscribe to the whole “““hE’s dEpReSsEd!1!1!11””” thing I still feel there was a better way than making him#DMC2 Dante but moderately talkative.#(I don’t even hate how Dante is in 2 I just don’t like how y’all excuse one but not the other)#that said they should’ve had him be his typical cocky and explore how that demeanor is an unhealthy coping mechanism for his problems#or something like that#idk this anime just freakin sucks#to add some positivity: I like Patty. Her pestering little sister dynamic with Dman was pretty entertaining#and Morrison is p cool too being Dante’s agent and what not and I’m glad he came back in 5#huge melanin injection and all#devil may cry#devil may cry anime#dmc dante#patty lowell#J.D. Morrison
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tsukii0002 · 2 months
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Mammon: Do you know that because of us Mc is losing their sense of danger?
His brothers: ?
Mammon: I mean, they have become so accustomed to the Devildom that they no longer perceives danger as a normal human… not even as a demon would.
Lucifer: Develops.
Mammon: The other day we passed by a river of crystal piranhas and they jumped in.
Levi: WHAT??!!
Mammon: That's what I said and they answered me that they were fish, that they were beautiful.
Asmo: *horrified* Oh my...
Mammon: Another day they started brushing a banshee's hair, which the creature was delighted with and they became friends *scratching his head*, but you get the point.
Beel: Thats not good *worried*.
Mammon: On another occasion they saw vampires devouring an animal and approached calmly saying that this was no place to eat, just like that, without even batting an eyelid.
Satan: Damn.
Mammon: A-damned-blood-thirsty-vampires
The brothers: ...
Belphie: We have broken our human.
.
.
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orchidyoonkook · 6 months
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The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG
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Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  
Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff
Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 10,488
Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM
A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!
A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much
A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
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Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....
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Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 
Intimate. That would be a better choice. 
From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 
The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 
You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.
He’ll be back for another soon.
While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 
Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 
Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.
And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 
Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.
Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 
Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 
Most of the time.
You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 
“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”
“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.
Fucking incubi demons…
You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 
You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.
You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”
Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 
Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 
They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 
It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 
You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 
“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 
And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 
“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 
There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.
“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.
It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.
Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty. 
But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 
Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.
Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 
It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.
He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 
“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 
To which you think again, fucking incubi…
Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 
You learned your lesson.
So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 
You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.
From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.
Which can only mean one fucking thing. 
You just lost all your tips for the night. 
Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 
Fuck. 
“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.
“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 
You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 
“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 
You know exactly where it is.
No one else will touch it. 
Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 
No one serves him but you. 
But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 
You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.
You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 
After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,
“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”
He didn’t take another breath. 
A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  
“Thanks,” You’d said.
“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 
Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.
But he was more than pleased. 
After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.
He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 
Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 
A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 
Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;
‘One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.’
You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 
‘Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth,’
You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.
“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 
He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 
You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.
“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 
He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 
“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”
You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 
No one calls the Devil by his first name. 
Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 
And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 
No one except you. 
What a funny little exception you are.
Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”
You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.
You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 
“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 
Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 
“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 
He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 
“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.
Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 
You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.
Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…
Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.
You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 
The King of Hell. 
He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 
Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 
Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 
He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.
You have to stay away from him. 
But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.
As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 
There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 
“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”
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Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.
Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 
The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 
Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 
You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 
All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 
And maybe he is. 
But not to you. 
The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 
You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 
The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 
And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 
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It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.
You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 
Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 
They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.
All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 
Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 
Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.
You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 
You needed this.
A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 
You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 
“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 
“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 
You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 
Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 
In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 
Yoongi. 
God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.
Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 
Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 
And he looks like sin incarnate. 
Fitting. 
Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?
Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 
Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.
When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 
Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 
Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.
They were all you. 
Maybe his plan was working after all…
“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.
What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”
He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.
“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.
A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 
“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”
Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 
Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 
Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 
You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.
“What do you think?”  
Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.
“May I touch?”
You don’t hesitate. 
“Yes.” 
Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.
“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 
This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 
Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 
Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 
The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 
“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..
Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 
Beautiful. 
“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 
“My birthstone,” you reply.
“Your birthstone.”
You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.
“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 
Makes you wonder what he promised.
Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 
Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.
Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 
Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 
What is he doing to you?
“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 
“Mmm?”
“Would you like to dance?”
Fuck would you ever, but wait— 
“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 
Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 
“Yes.”
You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.
Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.
Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 
They don’t know about Yoongi.
They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 
You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 
You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 
You’ve decided. 
To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 
To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 
You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 
But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.
“Let’s go to yours.”
“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”
Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 
“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.
Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 
And apparently neither does Yoongi. 
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“Yes, but what does tha–”
“Close your eyes for me, Love.”
Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 
So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 
You trust Yoongi. 
“That's a good girl.” 
One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 
Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 
But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.
What?
“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 
Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.
“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.
Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 
He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.
“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”
You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 
There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 
Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.
Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.
“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.
He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 
Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 
You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”
You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 
“Please what, Love?”
“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”
“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 
“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.
“There she is.”
Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 
They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 
Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.
“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 
His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”
You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 
“I need to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“Understand what?” He pushes.
“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 
“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.
The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.
“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”
Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”
He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 
“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”
Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”
His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.
“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 
Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 
If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.
Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 
“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”
He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.
He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 
“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.
“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.
He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.
“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 
Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.
“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”
“And if I do?” 
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”
Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”
“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 
And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 
Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 
Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 
“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 
Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 
“Fuck—”
Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 
“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”
Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.
“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”
The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 
Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 
“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 
His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 
You’re the most powerful person here. 
You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 
And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 
“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 
Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 
“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”
His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.
“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”
“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 
You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 
Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.
This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.
This is about you. 
And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.
You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 
You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 
Perfect in every single way. 
“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”
He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 
“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”
You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”
“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.
“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.
“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”
The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 
Not yet. 
You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.
Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 
Ever.  
And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 
He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 
There was only you. 
Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 
And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.
It’s time for him to finally claim you back.
“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”
“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”
Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.
“Only for you, Yoongi.”
His thrusts stutter.
“Fuck!”
He’s coming. 
He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 
It’s the first time he’s said your name.
And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 
You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 
It’s yours. 
He’ll make it so.
At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.
He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 
You got exactly what you wanted.
He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 
And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.
“What changed?” 
“Hmm?”
“What about tonight made you change your mind?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 
That seductive smirk makes an appearance.
“Yes.”
“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”
Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 
“Next time,” he says. A promise.
You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”
He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 
“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 
“My soul?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ve never asked for mine before.”
“Never needed it.”
At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”
“You.” 
Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 
You just know it. 
“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”
You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 
You never expected anything like that. 
You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 
Kindness. Patience.
The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 
Because of you.  
“I don't know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”
You can do that. 
“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 
Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.
“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.
“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 
He was yours now. 
The Devil was yours.
King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  
“Oh thank fuck.”
“Not thank God?” you tease.
Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”
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A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
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sphaeraa · 2 years
Note
She's enjoyed the quiet moments; the occasional resting upon her shoulder, and in this case, somewhat vice versa with feline form draped along the Hōgyoku's shoulders. But there are instances when the mischievous quality creeps in. Even in this stillness, the Flash Goddess slowly blinks and tilts her head while golden hues trail over the curvature of his neck then how quickly they dilate before teeth sink into the vessel's skin.
Now there was nothing at all malicious in the act, more so a teasing graze of canines; a playful assessment from one God to another.
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@raimeineko
[ UNPROMPTED ASKS | ALWAYS ACCEPTING ! ]
                      And so, too, the Flash Goddess has fangs of her own, and she proves she can wield them!                       The daemon rarely has teeth on him. It's not often that anyone is so bold, or daring. In some cases, even the idiotic don't take to tasting the Hōgyoku's sentient skin.                       But she does!                       And she does so with jest and challenge in her bite. The entity jerks upright, startled, biology reacting as nerves ignite the sensation of sharpened discomfort and prompt him to shy sideways of it sharply.
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                      "CAN I HELP YOU?!"                       He opens his eyes and looks sharply downward, but what rouses from him is prideful retaliation, as he's willing to meet her assessment.                       "Get a good taste, or is it my turn, kitten~?"
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tallulah477 · 6 months
Text
Hunting the Tawtute
Kinktober Day 19: Threesome
Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader x Lo’ak
Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Neteyam, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Primal Kink (Hunter/Prey Kink), Oral (female receiving and male receiving), P in V, Fingering, Handjob, Breath Play, Dirty Talk, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, Alien Genitalia, Slight Knife Play, Multiple Orgasms, Bukkake, Hair Pulling, Slight Humiliation, Slight Thigh Riding, Knots/Knot Play (but no actual knotting), Marking Kink/Biting
Word Count: 5.4K (of pure self-indulgent fantasy)
A/N: I don’t even know what to say about this. This one kinda like so fucking much got away from me. It’s like I went crazy, blacked out, and this happened. Hopefully some of you guys will like it too as much as I liked writing it.
Summary: When the Omatikaya raid an RDA outpost, you just barely escape the carnage with your life. You're stumbling through the forest when they find you, and the dark grins on their faces make shivers run down your spine. You try to run, but they’ll catch you - they’re little beautiful prey. 
Extra: Pretty, But Not Stupid
**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**
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Translations:
Tawtute -  Human
Mountain Banshee - Large, dragon-like aerial predators
Sevin - Pretty
Vrrtep - Demon
Paskalin - Sweet Berry (term of endearment)
The ground is shaking underneath you as you run, booming with the force of the explosions and gunfire racking the now nonexistent RDA outpost. You can still hear the screaming, both war cries and cries of terror, echoing through the forest as your tired legs carry you further and further away. 
You’re gasping for breath, heart feeling like it's going to pound out of your chest as you sob. You hated the RDA, they were mostly all power hungry assholes anyway, but some people in the outpost were good - innocent people who fled Earth just to get away from the horror there, only to be met with a fate possibly crueler here. All the cooks, cleaners, and medical professionals who just wanted a chance - all dead within minutes of the start of the emergency alarm that blared through the base. If not by the explosions, then currently being picked off without mercy by the Na’vi. 
You’re lucky to even be alive right now. 
You shake your head, trying to ignore how your heavy, panicked breathing is fogging up your mask and how you can barely see through your tears. You need to keep going. You can’t think about it now. Can’t think about the carnage you're running from and the people you’re leaving behind. You need to find safety. 
You run a little further, trying not to trip on any more upturned roots. You fell over one a little ways back, and your ankle protests the more weight you put on it, but the fear of being found and killed keeps you going. You quickly round another tree and stop, bracing your hand on the bark of the massive trunk and lifting your hurt ankle up a bit just to relieve the pressure for a moment. Your eyes hurriedly scan the area, trying to keep an eye out for danger you wouldn’t even be able to defend yourself against. Even if you did have some kind of a weapon (which you don’t, you barely had enough time to sprint away with your life as it was, let alone grab any kind of form of defense), you wouldn’t be able to win against the strength and prowess of one of the natives anyway.
A sharp gasp leaves your lips when your eye catches movement a few trees down from you. There’s a male Na’vi standing there, long braids still swinging around his shoulders from his abrupt movement, and he has an arrow notched and pulled back, strong muscles and chest bulging behind the bow as he steadies the arrow - the arrow that’s pointed directly at you. 
“Wait!” You yell, hands instinctively coming up to protect your face as if they could ever stop the Na’vi sized arrow. “Wait! Please, don’t shoot!”
The male stops, curious amber eyes locked on your trembling figure, and to your complete shock, he lowers the arrow. Why isn’t he killing you? The Na’vi kill humans on sight, they don’t hesitate. You should have been dead the second he saw you. But you’re not. He lowered his arrow, and for a brief moment relief and hope flood your chest. 
“I mean you no harm,” You call, voice shaking. “Please, don’t k-kill me,”
The male tilts his head at you and you watch cautiously as he puts his bow away, reattaching it to his back, before reaching up to touch his throat. From this distance you can just see the outline of a necklace. A throat comm, you think. He has his fingers pressed against the buttons and you can’t hear what he’s saying, but you see his lips moving as he talks to whoever is on the other line. 
A dark smirk curls at his lips as he speaks. He’s looking directly at you and whatever hope you had disappears as dread fills your entire being. 
You are going to die. 
You can’t stay here, staying still even as he’s watching you is a risk. If you’re going to die, you’re at least going to go down trying to live. 
You turn to run, making it just a few steps away from the tree before the canopy bursts above you, a roaring shriek piercing your ears as a large blue and purple mountain banshee descends down towards the forest floor. You scream, falling back on your ass as the dragon-like animal lands just feet from you, the wind from its strong wings beating over your body and making your hair whip around your face.
The banshee’s rider descends from its back, landing on the ground with a thud and disconnecting his neural queue from the animal. He stalks towards you, golden eyes gleaming behind a few loose braids falling in front of them, and he grins, long pointed canines biting into his bottom lip.
“Where you running to, sevin tawtute?”
With another terrified sob, you scramble to your feet. The second Na’vi’s low chuckle, despite being fairly quiet, rings loudly in your ears, and you can hear the footsteps of the first’s getting closer and closer to you each second. 
“Don’t do it,” The second warns, and you don’t even have the mental capacity to realize that he’s speaking to you in English. You’re already spinning and darting away in the opposite direction. 
You run as fast as you can through the dense Pandorian forest. They’re chasing you, you can hear their footsteps pounding against the forest floor behind you. They mock you, first just making quick yipping and whooping calls, communicating with each other in a way you would never even begin to understand. And then they switch to your language.
“Better run faster, human!”
“Getting tired already, baby?”
“Can you feel my breath on the back of your pretty neck?”
“We’re going to get you!”
Your sobs get louder, terrified as you try to push yourself harder. They sound so close, like they’re right behind you, like they could just reach out and grab you. But they don’t. They’re playing with you. They’re faster than you, their legs significantly longer than yours and more adept at running and navigating the forest terrain. They’re letting you keep going on purpose, finding glee in your terror and enjoyment in chasing their prey. 
Your ankle is aching, pain shooting from the twisted limb, and your running is quickly turning into panicked hobbling. You can’t do it anymore. Can’t do it - they’re going to get you. Without thinking, you dive under a slightly uprooted tree - the tilt of the base giving you just enough room to crawl under the trunk, thick roots caging you in and separating you from the two male Na’vi. 
The second you make it through, there’s a burst of movement as the long haired male slides in front of the opening, long arm sticking through the roots and reaching for you. You whimper when his fingers brush your mask and you try to scoot yourself further back against the dirt, but there isn’t much room. 
“Come out of there,” He says, voice soft like he’s trying to coax you out, but the underlining reverb of a growl taints the attempt. “It’s dangerous under there,”
“Yes, tawtute,” The other says, long legs visible from behind his brother’s upper body. “Much safer out here with us,”
You can’t help the anger and frustration that wells inside you as you hear the absolute lie they are trying to tell you. 
“Bullshit,” You spit.
The long haired male removes his reaching arm and peers at you through the roots, eyes alight with mirth. “Oh, you hear that, brother? Our little vrrtep has a mouth on her,”
The other male chuckles and squats down to peer at you through your self imposed cage. “And what a pretty mouth it is. Can’t wait to see what else it can do,”
Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. That sounded . . . suggestive. That couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like, right?
“What do you say, sevin? Want your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?” He asks, playful fingers lifting up the front of his loincloth slightly as if to tease you. And then, suddenly, there’s a new fear taking over. 
They don’t want to catch you to kill you - they want you. 
“My name is Lo’ak,” He continues, lifting his hand from his loincloth to wiggle his fingers at you in greeting. Five fingers, you notice. “You know, just so you know what to scream out later when I’m fucking you,”
More tears well up in your eyes, cascading down your flushed cheeks. “P-please. Don’t hurt m-me,” You beg, wide eyes pleading with the large blue men holding you hostage to show you mercy. “I’ll leave! I promise! You’ll never see me again,”
“She begs so beautifully already,” The other male says, nudging his brother’s arm. “She’s gonna sound so good when she’s crying in pleasure. Go ahead and try it out for me, paskalin. Let me hear you say it: Neteyam,”
Neteyam looks at her expectantly, golden green eyes dark from where his pupils have nearly completely taken over. 
“Fuck you,” You hiss. You try to put as much malice and ferocity in your words as you can muster, but Neteyam only grins at your curse.
“Yeah, tawtute. That’s the idea,”
Lo’ak suddenly moves, shifting over to the side of the tree and you panic at the abrupt movement, scrambling over and pressing your back against the roots on the opposite side just to be as far from him as possible. 
“Come on out, baby,” He purrs, eyes hooded as he stares at you. “Don’t you want to take a ride? Feel some big alien cock in your pretty, tiny pussy?”
You open your mouth again to shoot some more choice expletives at him, but all that comes out is a scream when the roots behind you rip and a large hand grips at your hair, dragging your body from its hiding spot and into the dimming light of the forest.
Neteyam hauls you up on your feet, fist tangled in your hair keeping you from running and grabs one of your swinging arms, pinning it behind your back. Lo’ak steps in front of you, tall and imposing at nearly twice your height, but you still try to fight, fight for your life and your freedom, and your hand smacks as hard as it can against his hip.
It doesn’t do anything to him obviously, you’re not even sure if he felt it, but all the fight leaves you in an instant when the large knife the size of your forearm waves in your face.
“You’re gonna be a good girl for us now, okay?” He says, tapping the glass of your mask with the tip of his knife as if he were trying to boop your nose. The tip of the knife travels down your neck, over your collarbone, and towards the center of your chest. If you were able to think correctly, you would be amazed at the control he has over the blade to not let it cut you despite your chest heaving with your frantic breathing. “Stay still now,”
The knife travels towards the valley between your breasts, taking the neck of your t-shirt with it and pulling it down and down until Lo’ak just cleanly slices through the whole front of it. Neteyam releases your arm now that you're not fighting against them anymore, but still keeps a firm grip on your hair. The ruined shirt slips from your shoulders and Lo’ak brings the knife back up to hook underneath the band of your bra, slicing through the material like it was paper and pushing the remnants of that off of your body as well. 
“Such a pretty little thing,” He muses, running the flat of the blade across one of your exposed breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as it presses against your heated skin. Lo’ak twists the knife and places the very tip of it at your nipple. The sharp edge makes you gasp, the bud starting to harden immediately at the feeling and you can’t help but feel mortified when you feel wetness pool in your panties. 
Lo’ak’s nose twitches, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as his large amber eyes catch yours, but it’s Neteyam that digs the metaphorical knife deeper, furthering your humiliation and making your face burn.
“Aw, is the cute little tawtute getting wet for us? We can smell you,” Neteyam laughs, dragging your head back further so he can get a good look at your face. “Look, brother. Look how flushed she’s getting,”
“You think that flush is going all the way down here?” Lo’ak asks, the tip of the knife leaving your nipple to tease your clit over your shorts.
“Rip them off and find out,” Neteyam suggests, and you start to wriggle again in his unrelenting grasp. 
“Wait!” You shout. Your neck is still craned up towards the sky, so you only feel rather than see Lo’ak undo your button and zipper. “Wait, please. I’ll do anything,”
“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees, looking down at your pleading face. His fingers latch onto one of your hard nipples and pulls on it, eliciting a sharp gasp from your plump lips. “You will,”
In an instant, Lo’ak yanks your shorts and panties down and Neteyam moves behind you to kneel on the forest floor, one knee pressing into the ground while the other acts as a stabilizer, foot flat against the ground. Neteyam’s grip on your hair is released as he grabs you by your hips instead, pulling you up to sit on his thigh, bare pussy pressing against the bulging muscles. 
The feeling of his muscles tensing under you makes more heat pool in your stomach, and your pussy is wet and sticky already as you squirm against him. Your legs fall on either side of his and even with him kneeling your feet still can’t touch the ground, toes just barely brush against the grass and only if you’re actually stretching to reach it. But the additional stretch just makes you push your cunt harder against his thigh and you whimper, not knowing what to do or how to move.
Neteyam wraps a restraining arm around your chest, trapping one of your arms under his and grabbing onto your other bicep, his large hand practically spanning the entirety of your upper arm and pinning it down. His other hand moves up to his mouth, long middle finger sliding between his lips, licking the long digit and pulling it out when it’s wet and glistening in the setting sunlight. He brings his wet finger to your core, dipping it between your folds and circling your clit. 
“So wet already, tawtute,” He whispers, lips brushing against the curve of your ear.
You whimper as he rubs you, dipping his finger down lower to gather more of your wetness and dragging it back up to tease small circles around your pulsing nub. When his fingers trail down again, it's to press at your entrance, and you can’t help the whiny moan that escapes you as his finger slips easily inside your leaking hole.
Lo’ak’s been watching you this whole time, crouching down to get a good, clear look at your glistening pink cunt, and the sight of his brother’s finger sliding inside of you prompts him to have some fun of his own. He stands, fingers moving quickly to untie his loincloth, the material loosening and sliding down his legs, flittering to the ground below him.  
You’re distracted, Neteyam’s finger is rubbing against your gummy walls, sliding in and out effortlessly while his thumb plays with your clit, so you don’t realize what’s so wrong with Lo’ak’s body until he’s directly in front of you - naked pelvis and even more naked center only a foot away from your face. 
Your eyes widen as you look at it, confusion written all over your face as you stare at the empty, flat space where his member should be. Lo’ak laughs at the bewildered look on your face and Neteyam mouths at your shoulder to hide his own grin. 
“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” Lo’ak says. “I’ve got plenty of cock for you. It’s just hidden. I’ll get it out for you since you're a little tied up.”
His fingers reach down to rub at the empty space and you watch in fascinated awe as he plays down there, fingers pressing in harder and sliding against the hidden slit you hadn’t seen before. His fingers dip inside, eyes closing in pleasure for a moment before they flick back open, sultry hooded orbs locked on your own. 
“What the f–ahh!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut, back arching in pleasure against Neteyam as another of his fingers pushes inside you. They’re long enough on their own, the combined thickness enough to feel like a cock inside you already. 
When your eyes open again, they lock immediately on what’s happening between Lo’ak’s legs. There’s something poking out from the slit and it takes your scared and pleasure hazed brain way too long to realize it’s his cock. It’s just the head peeking out, the mushroomed lavender tip like a bright, slick beacon between his dark blue thighs. He grins when your mouth falls open at the sight, fingers dipping back into his wet slit and pulling out another inch.
Every inch of his cock has your eyes widening, the long and hard length now fully unsheathed and bumping against his belly. Blue skin and even darker stripes litter the shaft, small bioluminescent freckles scatter towards the top and lead to the light purple tip. A fleeting thought has you thinking it's pretty, the colors blending in beautifully with one another, but when you see the textured bumps decorating the entire length, the panic hits you again.
“Let me go!” You scream, fighting against Neteyam’s hold, but hold is firm. “It won’t fit! You can’t! It won’t fit!”
“That’s why we have to stretch you out first,” Neteyam mutters, mouth pressed against your shoulder. His third finger nudges at your entrance and you stop breathing when it pushes against your already stuffed hole. The stretch is intense, your small body struggling to take the invasion as his long finger pushes in beside the others. His thumb rubs lovingly at your clit, distracting you from the stretch and working up the pressure starting to build in your belly. 
Lo’ak strokes at his cock, shuffling forward until the weeping tip of it is inches from your face. 
“You wanna taste it?” He asks, his other hand gripping onto the bottom of your mask. 
You whimper, terrified at the prospect of him pulling your mask off, but can’t get out anything more than a stuttering, “P-please,”
“Be a good girl and hold your breath for me,”
There’s a loud hiss of air as the seal around your face breaks, and then you can’t breathe. Can’t even make a sound when he pulls the mask halfway up your face to free your mouth, letting the bottom of it sit below your nose as he pushes his fingers into the hinges of your jaw to pry your mouth open. 
The lavender tip of his cock pushes between your lips, the underside dragging along your tongue. You can feel every bump and ridge as it pushes in further, the texture both unusual and intimidating as it slides against the warm wet muscle. 
And then it’s gone, your mask replaced and the burst of oxygen rushing into your lungs makes you feel even more lightheaded than without having any oxygen at all.
“Good girl,” Lo’ak coos, hand once again gripping the bottom of your mask and leaning down to press a sweet kiss against its glass. 
Neteyam’s fingers are still working themselves in and out of your stuffed pussy, and you see Lo’ak’s ears twitch a second before you even hear it: the horrible squelching sounds your pussy is making as it rocks against his three fingers.
“Such a good girl,” He grins. He stands up, holding his cock steady and pulling your mask up again, the hiss of air mingling with the wet sounds coming from your drenched cunt. “Let’s go again,”
His cock pushes inside of your mouth again, barbed length sliding against your tongue and nudging the back of your throat. You gag, choking from both lack of oxygen and Lo’ak’s thick cock, and you can barely register the light and strangely sweet taste of his precum as it coats your tastebuds. 
Neteyam’s fingers are ruthless inside of you, curling and dragging against your gummy walls with skilled expertise and his thumb is practically a blur on your clit. When Lo’ak replaces your mask and air once again fills your lungs, it's only there for a second before you’re screaming and gasping, the coil in your stomach almost too much to bear as it tightens, threatening to rip you apart when it snaps.
Your screaming is cut off again when Lo’ak lifts the mask away, shoving his cock harder and deeper into your mouth until the glass of your mask is pressing against his pelvis and his cock has slipped down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you take it, legs shaking against Neteyam’s thigh. When it's replaced this time and air is once again allowed into your lungs, Neteyam’s teeth latch onto your shoulder, sharp canines digging into the tender skin. The bite brings about a sharp pain immediately followed by a flood of intense pleasure - your body jerks in his hold, shaking violently as the coil in your belly snaps. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, gushing against his hand as your orgasm rips through you without mercy. 
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Lo’ak grunts, fisting his cock with one hand while checking to make sure your mask is secure with the other.
You mumble a weak reply, but the words don’t make sense, they don’t even sound like real words to your own ears - and your ‘not words’ turn into a forlorn whine as Neteyam pulls his fingers from your still pulsing pussy. 
He tilts your upper body to the side, sliding most of you off of him except for your leg still draped over his thigh at the knee while your other foot presses onto the ground, leaving you spread wide. His free hand falls behind you, somewhere around his hip where you can’t see, and then something large and round shaped is nudging between your folds and prodding at your entrance.
“No,” You mewl. “Won’t fit,”
“Shh, be quiet, ma sevin tawtute,” He grunts, pressure pushing at your hole as he starts forwards. “It will fit,”
You take in gasping breaths as the pressure intensifies, dripping hole resisting the push as much as it can before relenting to the large male Na’vi’s wishes and the thick mushroom head of his cock pops inside. Neteyam groans when he breaches you, unwrapping his arm from your upper body and gripping both of your thighs with his large hands, hauling you up and in the air as he stands up.
Your back is pressed tightly against his chest, thighs spread open and vulnerable to Lo’ak’s hungry gaze as gravity pushes you down further on his brother’s cock. You whimper loudly, hands desperately gripping at Neteyam’s forearms as he impales you on him. The bumps on his cock drag without mercy against your sensitive walls, and your right leg shakes in his grip from the overwhelming intensity. 
It feels so good, so devastatingly good inside of you, the barbs and ridges sliding just right against your gummy walls and you toss your head back with a silent scream as he bottoms out, tip nudging against your cervix.
You’ve never felt so full before. It feels like he’s all the way in your stomach, cock barreling through your important organs and rearranging your guts just to make enough room for him to fit. You chance a look down, letting out a wailing cry that’s half pleasure, half horror when you see the large bulge protruding from your abdomen. 
“Fuck,” Neteyam moans. “She’s so tight,”
Lo’ak grins mischievously as Neteyam lowers his mouth to the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses there as he starts to rock into you. One moment he’s in front of your face, sending you a cheeky wink when you gasp as the cock inside of you hits just the right angle to brush against your special spot, and then the next he’s crouching down, textured tongue lolling out of his mouth and licking against your swollen clit. 
You squeal at the feeling of his rough tongue, textured similarly to that of a cat’s, lapping at the sensitive nub. 
“T-too much!” You cry. You can’t close your legs, Neteyam’s hands holding them firmly open as he thrusts harder inside you, and your hands push against Lo’ak’s head, but he doesn’t budge - large head staying put while his tongue continues to swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 
When Lo’ak decides he’s had enough, he lifts his head, trailing kisses up your stomach starting just above the disappearing and reappearing bulge in your belly and up your chest, tongue laving over the swell of your breast and latching onto your nipple, sharp teeth nibbling on the hard bud as you yelp.
His lips wrap around it, suckling on it for a moment before pulling off with a pop. 
“You taste so good, baby,” He murmurs, reaching down to play with your clit. “Like the sweetest little treat,”
“Feel so good, paskalin,” Neteyam grunts, lifting your body up and slamming it back down on his cock to fuck into your harder. “Snug little pussy squeezing me so well. You were made to take Na’vi cock, weren’t you?”
“Oohh my goooooood,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming stimulation. “C-can’t t-take i-itt,”
“Sure you can,” Lo’ak teases, face so close to yours that in your haze all you can see is his bright golden eyes. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?”
Neteyam’s thrusts are getting sloppy, moans and grunts a constant source behind you, and he hisses a quick “Fuck, take her,” at his brother. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly pressed against Lo’ak, chest pressed tightly against his and Neteyam releases one of your thighs in favor of gripping your hip. Lo’ak’s hand cradles your released thigh instead, keeping you steady against him as his brother uses his new found leverage to pound into your tight cunt. Your arms instinctively wrap around Lo’ak’s neck, holding on for dear life as you moan and whimper loudly with the cool glass of your mask pressed against his collarbone. 
You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, and you can’t think about anything other than how impossibly full you feel and how good the ridges and bumps on his cock feel as they scrap and drag inside of you. Neteyam’s grip turns bruising, fingers digging into your hip and thigh as he fucks you harder. 
“Who’s pussy is this?” Neteyam growls, mushroomed tip pounding into your cervix. “Go on, tawtute. Say it!”
“Neteyaaamm,” You moan. “Please, please, please,”
Distantly, even through your hazy, fucked out brain, you can feel something thick and round prodding at your entrance, bumping and stretching you out even more with each thrust. You cum, sobbing as you contract tightly around him, body shaking in Lo’ak’s hold as his large hand rubs up and down your back soothingly. 
Neteyam pulls out of you with a tortured groan and your eyes flutter shut, pussy still contracting and squeezing and wanting - wanting his long, hard length inside of you again, wanting it splitting you open, and now that it's gone, you can’t believe how empty you feel.
Lo’ak lowers you gently to the ground, resting your exhausted body on the soft moss. You feel the way he pulls your thighs apart again, settling himself between them, what’s left of the setting sunlight filtering in behind your eyelids getting blocked as he hovers over you. 
“Stay awake, vrrtep,” He says, smacking your thigh lightly to wake you back up. Your heavy eyes peel themselves open, watching as Lo’ak braces one hand above your head while the other guides his cock to your core. You whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your dripping folds, teasing the tip against your clit before running it down your slit and lining it up with your entrance. “It’s my turn,”
The slide is easier this time as he pushes in, but still no less intense. Your tired and overstimulated body tenses at the intrusion, tightening around him as he spears you open with his thick girth. 
“Such a pretty demon,” He moans, pleasure shooting through his veins at the feel of your tiny body hugging his cock like it never wants to let him go. “Tempting us the way you did,”
His hips start up a gentle tempo, rocking inside you to help you get used to his size and letting you feel the pleasurable drag of his barbs against your oversensitive walls. 
You whine, denying his comment. “D-didn’t do anyth–”
He silences you with a sharp snap of his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts and leaning down further so his pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust. Already you can feel another orgasm barreling towards you, threatening to rip you apart the same way his cock is splitting you open. 
“Fuck!” You squeal, back arching as your pussy squelches between your bodies. “Oh my god, fuck!”
“Say my name, baby,” Lo’ak grunts. “Wanna hear you moan it,”
“Looo’aaaaak,” You moan, bliss clouding your judgment as your hips buck into his in return. 
Out of the corner of your eye you see Neteyam, standing just to the side, watching as his brother fucks your very soul from your body as his hand strokes along his raging length. Your eyes catch on something unusual towards the base of his cock -  a thick, round bulb that shouldn’t be there and he smirks as he sees you gaping at it, hand stroking down to the base and squeezing the thick engorged knot of tissue tightly, moaning at the sensation.
Lo’ak thrusts in you harder and you feel that same thick, round ball bumping at your entrance that you felt when Neteyam was fucking you. The same bulbish ball of tissue that must be the same as the one you're looking at right now.
“Great Mother,” Lo’ak groans, face scrunched up in pleasure. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad,”
“Don’t,” Neteyam growls, jerking forward as if to pull his brother away from you, but Lo’ak curls his body around yours protectively, a deep hiss of warning ripping from his throat as he bares his teeth at his brother. 
Neteyam freezes, hands up in surrender but he glares at the brother inside you all the same. “Don’t. We don’t know if her body can take it yet.”
Lo’ak grunts, resuming his thrusts. “I know. Just back off,”
His cock pounds you relentlessly, kissing your cervix and his hand reaches down to caress the bulge in your belly. He presses down on the bulging bump firmly at the same time that his teeth sink into the still unmarked side of your neck, making you scream, the blissful agonized cry echoing through the forest as you cream all over his cock.
He pulls out, groaning woefully like his brother did, and fists his cock furiously, aiming the leaking tip directly at your puffy, spent pussy. Neteyam does the same, crouching low and close, stroking his cock beside you as he aims for your chest. 
They cum within seconds of one another, shooting hot, thick stripes of pearly bioluminescent cum all over your body, covering your chest and lower half with their release. 
You can barely feel your body anymore, can’t move a single limb on your own, and, despite not having any use of anything, your body won’t stop shaking - oversensitive and overstimulated and completely satisfied in a way you never thought you could be. 
“Ready to head home, sevin tawtute?” Neteyam asks, breathing heavy as he recovers from his orgasm. He just came but his eyes are still dark and sinful, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Your exhausted eyes flick to Lo’ak only to see the same desirous expression. 
There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach as you close your eyes, listening to their dark chuckles as your body forces you to rest. The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is a low, deep voice say . . .
“You’re ours now,”
Extra>>>
**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!
Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife
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signedkoko · 3 months
Note
MMM OKAY OKAY OKAY the brainrot is getting to me and I adore you’re writing, so forgive me if this a bit all over the place!!
Might I order some headcanons (or a full oneshot, if you want ofc) for Alastor and Vox (separate) with a gn partner who is a martial art fiend and seems mostly powerless, but is sort of like a siren? As in, not only can they put subtle amount of power into their voice when talking to persuade or disorient someone, but they can also do a Banshee type scream!
Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!
Alastor | Vox X Reader [Romantic]
In which your powers aren't all that obvious to the naked eye, and is hidden in your voice. Reader is genderneutral.
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You were just another face at the Hazbin Hotel
You helped with anything Charlie, asked, much like an assistant, and focused plenty on the decoration of the hotel
From what he saw, you really weren't much to be cornered about
That in itself concerned him
Every demon had their abilities, but according to you and the others, you were just a normal sinner
But no normal sinner would end up in a place like this for no reason
Alastor always pushed, joked, and teased you about being powerless, almost as if he were taunting you to reveal the truth—to reveal that all along you'd been lying
But you never broke
Not like he minded all that much; you were still lovely to be around, and you weren't as much of a mess as everyone else that wandered the dreary hotel
Even as the two of you grew closer than close, you never gave so much as a hint
He could tell you had something hidden, but at this point he was convinced it was your past or something else beyond your abilities
Until the day a group of demons attacked, looking for him
You'd never been overly protective of the overlord; Alastor could handle himself and hundreds of others at once if he needed to
But they were threatening the hotel, your friends, and your lover
So you stopped Alastor in his tracks, opening a window by the front door and shoving your front half out
The sound that ensued was nothing short of horrifying
Like thousands of layers of screaming voices begging to be released became unchained, and each individual in front of you collapsed
Some had bleeding ears; others were running in desperation as the chorus of voices continued to echo in their minds
Thankfully, you were a great target, because when you turned around, everyone in the hotel was fine
Well, fine in terms of hearing, but they did not look mentally well
Alastor laughs it off and claps, citing how he obviously knew all along that you were so powerful
You'll be in for a long night of explaining to him everything you were hiding
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You didn't like to show off your ability that much
It was horrifying and could damage a lot of people if you didn't consider your words carefully enough
So you only sang; it held a bit of power behind it, but at the very least it didn't harm anyone
It just caught attention and helped you get through another day in hell
Singing is what led to you meeting Vox, who frequented the club where you sang on some evenings
He hired you to sing at the club the Vees owned, which meant you ran into him a lot more often and got along extremely well
You revealed your ability to him, but swore off ever using it against people unless necessary
What did he care? Ability or not, you did a great job on stage, and that was all he asked of you as a friend and partner
One evening, during one of your performances which he attended, someone broke into the club
They had guns, and they looked ready to shoot
What else could you have done when they beelined towards Vox?
" Die. "
Your voice came through the mic crystal clear, and in a moment everyone holding guns dropped straight to the floor
There was no pulse, and that evening Vox learned a lot more about you than he had previously
When you are finally private and he has the chance to say anything
" Listen, dear, light of my life—that was hot as fuck, but my patrons are scared shitless right now. "
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Author's Note - I love these two, they are too cocky to have an s/o with cool powers but thats okay... Thank you so much for requesting, Damien!!! Love seeing you around 🖤
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chaethewriter · 1 year
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You're dead to me [6]
dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
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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, i lowkey don't like this chap but it's cute, fluff and angst, silly siblings, sad Jake.
Word count: 3,1k
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Your flight back to high camp was amazing. Walking through the forest was something enchanting, out of a fairy tale, but the view from above was something so unrealistic. Colors of green, pink, and blue covered the ground beneath you, and the way the animals climbed the trees or flew just under you. You still couldn't believe where you were. You let go of the reins Neteyam told you to hold and you slightly get up from your seat, holding your body up as you tried to get a better view of everything around you. Neteyam frantically holds onto your arm, "sit down! You're going to fall!"
"As if you would let me fall, who will take care of my younger brother then?" You playfully hit him in the chest with your elbow. Lo'ak then came gliding next to the two of you, "bro! Did you already think of the excuse you're giving mom and dad by being late and bringing (Y/N) with us?" Neteyam groans in response, "I will think of something as an excuse. We are going to hide her in high camp until tomorrow morning by then." You huffed at his words, "hide me in high camp? What are you going to put me in? In a fucking woven bag?!" Lo'ak answered your question as a matter of fact, "I mean, you would easily fit in the bag?" You were ready to jump from Neteyam's Ikran right onto Loak's Ikran, ready to pounce on him. He might be your much younger brother, but you weren't afraid to fight the Na'vi right there and then. "Sis please!" Neteyam wraps his arm around your waist to pull you down, keeping you in place. Even though you were older than them, you had childish traits he thought you wouldn't have. Is this the effect of growing up early and finally feeling free? Would he get to experience that too one day?
As they approached high camp, the horns were heard through the night skies to notify the clan of a return, their return. Kiri facepalmed and looked at Neteyam, "well, there goes your plan. Ready to face the wrath?" His spine shuddered at the question, imagining the wrath of his mother if they took their sister to the clan, but they didn't have another choice now, did they? They couldn't leave you alone out in the open and you were supposed to get here tomorrow anyway, so might as well make you settle down, right? The three Ikrans land right at the opening of the mountains and your four Na'vi siblings climb off it with ease, meanwhile you struggle to get off the animal. You never rode a horse before, imagine a banshee ten times the size. Alright, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the banshees were huge compared to your human self. You huffed in embarrassment as you had a hard time getting off. You were one of the finest warriors and embarrassing yourself in front of a whole clan wasn't on your bucket list, definitely not. Neteyam held your legs as helped you down and you silently thanked him for doing so. The clan surrounded the five of you, standing in a half circle as they stared at you, either with curiosity or weariness. You felt watched, but not in a good way. You were a sky human after all, demon blood in their eyes. Neteyam stepped in front of you, half-shielding you from the prying eyes of his clan, "mawey Na'vi, mawey!" His chest puffed out as he spoke, shoulders broad. You watched him in awe. He was still a child, yet a fine warrior and respected by all. He would be such a good Olo'eyktan. The Na'vi made way as the Tsahik and her daughter passed through, moving to the front with ease as the clan parted like the red sea. You moved away from behind Neteyam, now standing right next to him as you brought your hand to your forehead, "Oel Ngati Kameie." You greeted Mo'at and Neytiri with respect once they were right in front of the crowd.
"I already expected your arrival, (Y/N) Sully." You're shocked that the Tsahik herself announced the news, just like that. The clan started whispering amongst themselves at the mention of the Olo'eyktan's last name and you felt yourself crumbling through the ground. Even Neytiri, your stepmother (?), looked surprised. You didn't know if that surprised expression was meant for the fact her mother announced it or the fact you're her mate's daughter. "I'm- thank you for having me." You bowed your head to show your gratitude, then your gaze traveled to Neytiri. She was already looking at you with those yellow eyes that had so much emotion hidden in them. You felt like she had a lot to say and you felt the same. "My people, mawey. Welcome (Y/N) Sully, daughter of the Olo'eyktan like she's one of our people. She's here to protect us from the dangerous sky demons." Mo'at had her back turned to you as she spoke to her people, emphasizing the fact that you're Jake Sully's child. If she did this to keep you safe, you are in debt to her. Yet, wouldn't something like this make it more complicated? Since you emotionally disowned him as your father? You did, right? You're getting pulled out of your thoughts by a hand harshly wrapping around your wrist. Your head turned to the person in front of you, it was Neytiri. She didn't say anything as she pulled you away from the crowd. Your breath hitched in your mask as you grew nervous, but you didn't complain. She didn't rip your head off, so she wanted to talk to you, right? Tuk looked after you as her mother pulled you away. She looked over at her big brother as she tugged his loincloth, "what is happening?" Tuk was still young, she didn't understand anything that was happening. "It's okay, Tuk! Let's get some food" Lo'ak patted her head, his hands running through her locks. Kiri nodded in agreement, taking Tuk's hand and pulling her to the fire to get their dinner. Neteyam looked after you as his mom and his sister entered their pod, hoping things wouldn't turn more complicated for you.
"Ma'am, what did you want to talk about?" You asked politely once you entered the pod, yet still tried to push her to get to the point. You still remembered how she acted when you taunted your father for questioning his parenting. Neytiri closed the flap of the entrance as she turned to you, cautiously walking over to you. Once she was close enough, she got on her knees for the height difference to not be too intimidating as she spoke, "You're my mate's daughter." You didn't know if it was a question or an extra form of confirmation, but you nodded your head yes. "And you're human." You nodded your head again. "I don't like you, you reek of demon blood." You rolled your eyes. You had to see that one coming."But tell me, child." Your head tilted to the side as you watched her in confusion. Tell her? Tell her what exactly? Neytiri could sense your confusion, so she continued explaining, "what happened, child. Tell your part." You knew it was a demand, yet you couldn't sense a lot of grudges. Her tone was stern and demanding, but not hateful. It was the voice of a wise woman, a wise mother. You decided to make yourself comfortable: taking a seat, sitting your butt on the soft woven carpets as you leaned against the wooden wall. "He was an amazing dad. He didn't see himself as it, but he tried. He tried for me and that's what made him amazing." You fiddled with your mask as you didn't know where to keep your hands, obviously nervous about telling Neytiri about all this. She nodded in understanding, taking a seat as well as she kept quiet to let you continue at your own pace. "Then he left so suddenly and he never returned. I had to hear from the people around me where he went. I waited for years and eventually gave up." Your hands were now lying in your lap as you moved your legs in a cross-legged position, much more comfortable than your last one, "until this day, I hold a grudge against him. He abandoned me, so I am giving him a taste of his own medicine." You didn't notice that your eyes were once again welling up with tears. Your left hand moved towards your mask to try and push it closer towards your face in an attempt to hide. Thank Eywa the mask wasn't transparent. Neytiri leaned towards you, even though she was very weary of you, she awkwardly extended her arm towards you to wipe your tears. Only for a few seconds as she pulled her hand away quickly, but your eyes still widened at the gesture, not knowing how to feel about all this, "you're a strong child with a strong heart, for a sky demon." She then got up and out of the pod. Now that you were finally alone, you once again got lost in your thoughts as you thought about your father.
Once Jake left to Eywa-knows-where, she turned to the backdoor of the pod, "I know you're there. All of you." Neteyam was the first to walk out with his ears flat against his head, followed by Lo'ak, Kiri and Tuk. She looked at her children with a sigh as they all held a guilty yet innocent facade up. "If she's dad's daughter, our sister.. would you hate her?" Lo'ak was the first to speak up. Neteyam wanted to honestly hit him on the back of his head for asking questions like that, but he continued, "she's putting her life in danger for us, therefore she's not so bad right? Dad would have wanted you to try if she's his." Those words hit Neytiri like a truck. Even if she hated sky demons, her mate used to be one and he changed a lot in just a few weeks. Why not her? Being the adorable girl that Tuk is, she chimed into the conversation, "Mom I want to meet her! Can I meet her? Another sibling yay!" Neytiri's canines pierced through her bottom lip as she thought. She still disliked you, also because you were a sky demon. She was conflicted with her feelings, but then she thought about Jake's sad expression. She would be willing to try, for him. Just like how he always tried for her.
From the corner of his eye, Lo'ak noticed how his mother left the pod, meaning you were alone now. At the same time, a horn went off, indicating an arrival. All their heads turned to the opening of the mountain, noticing a familiar ikran about to land. Their father. The four siblings exchanged a look and Neteyam spoke up, "Kiri get some fruits for her and get her away from there. Tuk, Lo'ak, and I will take care of dad. Go!" Kiri followed his orders as she ran to get some leftovers for you to eat, meanwhile, Neteyam immediately went to his father. Lo'ak crouched down to his youngest sibling, "Okay, so don't say anything about sis (Y/N) alright? Dad can't know yet, alright?" Tuk didn't really understand what he meant, but she just nodded as a response, "yes!"
"Sister (Y/N)?" You removed your face from your knees as you were sitting with your knees to your chest, "Oh Kiri, what's wrong?" She walked towards you with a bunch of fruits in her arms, "I got these for you." You chuckled at the small gesture, "thank you so much, but I hope you know I can't eat all that." She looked at the fruits in her arms, "I mean, rather too much than not enough, right? Come on, let's go to the Tsahik." It looked like she was in a rush and you raised your eyebrows at her, "Kiri, what's up? You look tense?" You got up from the ground. "Just follow me!" She already walked out before you could answer her, leaving you all confused and lost. But you obeyed her and followed suit after her.
"My children please just let me be for tonight, I'm tired." Jake wanted to be alone right now. His heart ached in his chest and his eyes were bloodshot red as his tears were drying up. He wanted to find Mo'at and talk to her. "We want to show you something, you must come!" Neteyam never asked something like this of his dad, not since he was ten years old. So this made him feel suspicious. "Yes! Tuk made something so beautiful and she wants to show it, right Tuk!" Lo'ak made up the quickest thing he could think of, eyes gazing down at Tuk who didn't know what to say. She glanced at Neteyam who nodded, so she looked into his eyes with determination, "Yes! You must follow us!"
You sat in Mo'at's tent as Kiri cut up some fruit for you. The moment the two of you entered the tent, she knew that you needed a moment for yourself and left the tent in your hands. You sat on one of the mats as Kiri sat next to you, cutting the fruits up for you to eat. You inhaled into your oxygen mask, letting the oxygen flow through your lungs before you removed the mask, took a piece of freshly cut fruit and popped it in your mouth, reattaching the mask to your mouth to gasp. Kiri watched you in awe as you chewed your food, "that's honestly so cool." She quickly finished up and put her hunter's knife back on her hip. "Eat well and rest up, alright? You got a long day ahead of you tomorrow." "Goodnight and thank you" the two of you exchanged a smile as she left the tent. You continued eating your pieces of fruit in peace, listening to the sound of the clan talking as their laughs filled the air. You popped a fruit in your mouth before reattaching your mask, smiling as you knew you made a good decision. They deserved to be protected.
"What is up with the three of you?" Jake grew frustrated at his children. They were standing in the pod for at least twenty minutes as the three rambled about the most bullshit subjects. "Do you know that I made this flower crown?" "Yes, you told me last week, Tuk." He tried once again to exit the pod, but Neteyam jumped in front of it as he scratched the back of his head, looking at Lo'ak for any other excuse. He was the best at pulling bullshit out of his ass after all. But also Lo'ak was quiet as his ears were pressed firmly against his head. "Well then, if you have nothing to say anymore. I have somewhere to be." His two sons stood there in defeat as they let their dad through, but then Tuk grabbed onto her father's hand, "no you can't!! (Y/N) will be upset if we let you go to her!!" Lo'ak immediately put his hand over Tuk's mouth as Neteyam coughed through that sentence, but unfortunately for them Jake already heard it. To check if he indeed heard that correctly, he crouched down to meet Tuk's gaze, "Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, remove that hand from your sister. Tuk, what did you say?" Her eyes were now also pressed against her head, knowing she said the wrong thing while trying to help her brothers, "uhm.. I said.." she felt overwhelmed as her dad continued to pressure her into telling, making her lips quiver. That was the point when Lo'ak had enough, "you are a terrible father you know that?!" The young Na'vi exploded as he yelled into his father's face. "You abandoned (Y/N) in the most terrible way possible! And now you suddenly crave forgiveness?! You need to earn that! You can't just go around yelling your 'sorries' while sobbing and not do anything?!" His fists were balled as his ears perked up, his tail standing tall, "she has a right to be upset and instead of sulking around you need to talk to her without the need to use your excuses!" And off he went. If he was a cartoon, the steam would have been leaving his ears. He needed to cool off. Neteyam watched his dad's expression falter, knowing Lo'ak was right with every word he said. He silently told Tuk to come with him, as he raised Tuk in his arms, holding her against his hip. "Did I do something wrong?" "No sweetheart, this needed to be done." And the two left the pod, leaving Jake all on his own as he stood still like a statue, painful breaths leaving his lips. He thought it was impossible, but more tears rolled down. Then he remembered Tuk's words. You're here, his daughter is here.
And he knew exactly where to check.
Jake moved from healer's tent to healer's tent. He knew that if you were hiding somewhere, it was somewhere in this area, the healing tents. He swiftly moved from tent to tent in search of your small frame. He eventually got to the biggest tent right in the middle, Mo'ats tent. He ripped the flap open and there you were, sleeping peacefully with the mask on your face to keep you alive. The skin under your eyes were stained with dried tears and a sob left his lips. "My baby.." he moved inside and closed to flap. He knew you didn't want to see him, especially if you woke up, but Lo'ak was right. He needed to try with all his might now, not with only his excuses and words, but also with his actions to show you that he cared for you, like a father. He quietly sat down next you, taking your small hand in his. You moved a bit in your sleep, making Jake tense in his movements, but then you stopped as you rolled a bit closer towards him, towards the warmth you felt. A genuine smile finally plastered his face, he felt at peace.
For now, he decided to enjoy this moment,
not knowing if it would be the last or not.
A/N: another update!! Hope you enjoyed!! And thank you so much for the followers, almost at 2k is a huge achievement! Tell me what you thought of this part. <3 now I'm gonna go ahead and work on my novella fr.
Taglist in the comments!!
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Text
L'appel du Vide
Pairing- Sully Family x Sully!Reader
Summary- You feel the urge to engage in destructive behaviors just to feel alive and your family wants to get to the bottom.
Pt.1 pt.2 pt.3
Warnings- self destructive thoughts/actions, getting slapped, biting someone's ear off, hateful thoughts, description of self harm, self harm, blood/bleeding, crying lmk if I missed something
A/N- did I cry writing the last part bc of my crippling mommy issues yes yes I did but we don't talk about it also tell me how it is 🤭🤭
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It's like a call to a void, the adrenaline of putting yourself in danger. Like jumping off a cliff not knowing if your banshee is going to catch you, or slicing your hand with an open blade, or getting into a fight with someone ten times bigger than you. It made you feel real, made you feel alive. And if your not doing it your thinking of it. So why wouldn't you go with your siblings to the old battle field.
"Tuk keep up." Lo'ak said as you pushed a branch out of the way. "Why'd you bring her?" Spider asked and Lo'ak huffed. "She's always like 'I'm telling if you don't let me come you know your not supposed to go to the old battlefield " Lo'ak mocks your younger sibling only making Spider laugh and you roll your eyes at his childish tactics. Tuk pokes her tongue out at him and Kiri comes to her defense. "Don't pick on her." And finally you make it, you and Lo'ak crouch Kiri beside you. "Dad is going to ground you," she whispered to you, "shush can you stop." You reply and she only rolls her eyes. "For life."
behind some bushes you and Lo'ak look around there was all kind of rubble and metal on the ground you hit Lo'ak on the stomach to get his attention. "Let's look around." You say before immediately jumping back, Avatars. "Shit." You whisper Lo'ak looks at them his body freezes. "We have to tell dad." Kiri whispers. Lo'ak goes to touch the microphone on his neck. "Hey dad." Lo'ak whispers, your eyes were glued to the avatars.
"Lo'ak." You hear your father's gruff voice over the ear piece. "Yes we are at the old battle field and there are some Avatars we've never seen them." Silence, "Who is we." Was all your father said afterward you and Lo'ak share a look. "Me, Y/N, spider, Kiri and Tuk." He paused before he said Tuk and you could hear your father sigh. "Just stay safe, Lo'ak Lo'ak!"
Suddenly before you could think your queue was being pulled roughly making you wince in pain. You look around at the kidnappers around you. The avatars. "Show me your fingers." An older man said to Lo'ak and he flips him off and give a screechy hiss and you laugh loudly making Lo'ak chuckle. "Your his alright and you," he says turning around to you pointing a finger. "Your a cute little thing aren't ya' think that's funny?" He asked. You cringe at his statement. "I do actually." He smirks gripping your face. "We'll keep you." He said and all you did was hiss it was deeper and louder than the one Lo'ak previously did.
He gives you a hard slap and all you did was smile as you hear your mother's war call. The man's face fell, "I will kill you as many times as I have to demon." Was the last thing you heard before you saw your father and brother, Neteyam sweep in and get the avatars holding your siblings but they couldn't help you but you didn't need any. As your father held you sister in her arms you took this chance to kick the man holding you kick him in the knee he filps you around arms locking around you and before you knew it you opened your mouth clamping down on the first thing near you and it came off in your mouth the taste of iron on your tongue filling your mouth, the man screamed letting you fall to the ground. You jump up and spit the piece of skin in your mouth blood spilling from it as you spit. "She bit my ear off! The bitch bit my ear off!" He yelled you smiled as you pick a gun up that he had dropped and run off next to your dad.
It was hell after you got home. Your father yelled at you and Lo'ak about how irresponsible you two were and how stupid it was to attack the man holding you. But, this was the usual for you not taking anything to heart but you could see Lo'ak every heart breaking thing your father said to you two it stabbed him a hundred times over. And then your father put everyone of lock down and suddenly everything darkened around you, it felt like you were a dead person in someone you didn't know, like your family and friends weren't really your family and friends.
So there you are sitting at the back of your families home watching the sky, you had the razor blade you swiped from Norm in hand and all of those bad thoughts flew into you again. You griped the balde t as tears fell down your face, "Your not real." Your head thought. "Your nothing." The thoughts consumed you as the blade got closer and closer to your skin and it made contact you held it to the base of your palm. Your eyes clench closed as you held the blade hard and sliced all the way down, the throbbing pain was there and then you take the balde off of your palm and as the blood dropped from your hand, and a sense of comfort fell over you.
Your mother looked at your hand as she wrapped it up, "And you say you accidentally cut yourself when sharpening your dagger." She asked once again and you smile. "Yes I was being stupid I know." You laugh as she lets go of your hand. Before you asked your mother to wrap your hand your father gave you the news you had to leave, it hurt it really did you were leaving the only place you called home but you knew you had to stay strong for your siblings for your Mother.
When you finally made it to the Meykayina all of their eyes were on you and your family it was strange, unsettling. It only got worse the more you stayed there people made fun of you, of your siblings. And that feeling you knew all to well came back you had to cut, and everytime you had a quick explanation. Soon you had scars in various parts of your body, on your sides, inner and outer thighs, your calfs, you even had to wrap you hands up. And after an altercation with Lo'ak and the chiefs son they were forcing you and your siblings to hang out with him and his sister Tsireya. She was nice, sweet you sort of envied her but didn't show it. "Hey forest people." Ao'nung laughed and all you did was roll your eyes. "Hey fish boy." You reply opening your eyes and giving him a sarcastic smile.
He looks taken back but Kiri and Lo'ak burst into laughter as Neteyam hits your arm. "Let's get this day over with." He said getting the ilus saddled up. You stand up and head towards your ikran and they just look at you. "Forest girl where you going!?" Ao'nung yells and you turn around. "I'm going to ride Amhel." And then Neteyam huffed. "What is wrong Neteyam?" Tsireya asked as she lifted her leg over her ilu. "When she rides Amhel that means shes gonna do something stupid and then get in trouble for it." He shook his head as you jumped into her and connected taking off into the sky. It was a dangerous speed, but you didn't care. You did all kinds of things in the air the farther you got into sea. "Flip upside down." You thought and that's what she did. "She's not strapped in!" Tsireya yells watching you as you let your arms swing in the air. Neteyam watched he hates when you did this, but he couldn't stop you.
You made it to the island you land on the warm sand and hop off as the other five to make it to you. Kiri hit you upside the head. "Why are you so stupid always doing dangerous things." She scolded. "Ah and it's not dangerous it's fun have some." You joke rubbing the sore spot she made. "Fun? We rather keep our lives thank you." Neteyam chimed in and you only rolled your eyes. "If I wanted to get scolded I would have stayed with mom and dad..." Trailed off by seeing a huge rock. It was beautiful it started in the water where it has a teal ring, and it goes up as moss and leaves grow on it, it had to be at least fifty felt in the air. "Y/N don't." Neteyam spoke, to late.
You rode Amhel up to the rock and looked down you were sure to die if you jumped and no one caught you. "Perfect." You thought.
Meanwhile on the shore your older brother and sister sit down and put their face in there palms. "Told you, something stupid." Neteyam muttered to the group. Ao'nung had his transparent eyebrows furrowed as he looks between you and your brother. "What is she going to do?" He asked as you got of of Amhel. "Just watch it's so cool." Lo'ak said.
You disconnected you queue as you let the side of your head. "Remember catch me." You whisper to her and she only gives you a small chirp in response as she takes flight. She circles around the rock getting ready to catch her rider. You take one more look down stepping back a few steps you take a deep breath. Closing your eyes you run and jump. Falling through the air you could hear Tsireya yelling, "She's gonna die, she's not gonna catch her!!" This time your siblings got up and started yelling Neteyam jumped to his ilu ready to rush toward you and then everyone stopped as the heard you. "Why are you guys so serious." From behind them.
"Holy shit that was cool." Lo'ak laughed you got off of Amhel and walked to them sitting down in the sand letting the warm sun hit your skin. "I thought you were going to die." Tsireya said sitting down next to you. "Not today." You say smiling as you close your eyes.
"You did What!" You father yelled, you have Lo'ak a side eye, why did he have to be such a blabber mouth. "It wasn't anything serious me and Amhel used to do it all the time back home." You say putting your hand on your hip. "Okay we'll talk about that later but you jumped off a cliff that was over fifty feet in the air, what the fuck is wrong with you." Clenching your teeth, "Nothing is wrong with, I'm sorry I'm not an uptight asshole and like to have fun." You say suddenly feeling defensive as to why he asked what was wrong with you. "Don't curse at me and that's not fun you could have killed yourself." He yelled and you only rolled your eyes. "No more riding Amhel." He said and your face dropped. "What t-thats not fair." You protest before your father clicks his tongue. "Fine." Was all you said before storming up to your room of the pod.
It had been a little past eclipse and your shoulders felt heavy and that question ran through your mind over and over again, "What the fuck is wrong with you." Your father's words never stuck but this did. Your hands shaked you jumped out from under the hand-made blanket your mother gave you. You tiptoe over to your bag and rummage through it and you found it. You bit your lip as you looked at the blade. You sit on your cot and grabbed the blanket you were previously covering up with, putting it between your teeth you bit down, now you look at the blade and you press it onto your upper arm, pressing down hard you guide the blade down you sighed and bite the blanket because of the pain, but the more pressure you put into the cuts the more mental relief you felt. You dropped the blade and looked at your hand you held it so hard it cut through your fingers.
You let the blanket slip through your teeth and your breath was heavy and then you look up and your eyes were met with ones of your mother. You gasp. Flipping the blanket over your arm and hide the blade. Neytiri walks closer bottom lips shaking, "Show me." She demands and you only look away wiping the tears away from you face. "Show me." She says this time a little harsher. "Fine mom, you wanna see!" You say loudly getting up and the balde falls to the ground, you show her what you had just did, then you ripped the bandages you had on your thighs and then your hands. "Is this what you wanted to see." You say crying. Neytiri tilts her head as she falls to the ground. "My baby, my daughter my special girl." She cried out holding the blade throwing it across the room. "Mom don't cry." You say holding yourself looking from your mother's broken figure.
Neytiri was gasping through her tears, "Was it me was it Jake, did we do something, did we do something wrong I know we haven't been the best parents but I tried to protect you I-"
"No it's not you or dad it's me I'm fucked up, I'm fucked up but it's not you mom it's not you." You say falling to the ground next to her. She looks at you and holds your arms, going over every scar she helped heal and guilt fills her. You cry watching her reaction and then she brings you close, "It's okay my special baby, my sweet girl." She coos rocking you back and forth as your tears soak her chest. "I'm sorry mama I'm sorry."
"nothing to be sorry for my sweet." She said guiding you back to the bed holding you she pressed sweet loving kisses to your wrist. "Nothing wrong my sweet girl." She whispered holding you as she did when you were a child and your cries softened and your eyes began to get heavy for the first time you felt loved, you felt safe.
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torukmaktoskxawng · 10 months
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our paths crossing
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Pairing: Tsu’tey x Avatar!Reader + Adopted!Spider
Summary: Tsu’tey is given a second chance at life, but not even Eywa could convince him to accept it. 
Word Count: 9k+
Warnings: single mom power, generational trauma, parental manipulation (tsu’tey’s parents suck), fluff
Na'vi words used: pa'li - direhorse, nivi - hammock, olo'eyktan - clan leader, ikran - mountain banshee, Iknimaya - Rite of Passage, marui - home, oel ngati kameie - I See you, taronyutsyìp - little hunter, teylupil prrnen - teylu face baby, niktsyey - food/leaf wrap, tsaheylu - bond, sa'nok - mother, Uniltaron - Dream Hunt, irayo - thank you, tawtute - human, tswin - queue braid, maitan - my son, sa'sem - parents, taronyu - hunter, tsahik - spiritual leader, tsakarem - tsahik in training, meresh'ti cau'pla - banshee catcher
A/N: This was heavily inspired by other Tsu’tey works written by @simps256 @byunpum @shu-box-puns and @little-box-of-autism on Tumblr, and @ AlexiHollis on Ao3
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PANDORA, 2154+
Everything is connected, one way or another. From the tiny stem of a plant, to the pa'li that steps on it, and to the ginormous tree looming over it. Pandora is made up of various different sizes of networks, from microscopic to gigantic. Some are easier to see than others. The network of tree branches and roots is clearly visible, but there are small ones, not physically distinct, and Eywa can see it all as clear as day.
The same goes for two souls. When two Na'vi-- when two souls mate, they are mated for life. It won't matter if they met when they were children or if their paths meet when they are old and wrinkled. Two souls are still two souls, meant for each other no matter how or when they meet.
Tsu'tey, like all Na'vi, believed this to be true. Sylwanin was the soul meant for him, ever since they were children. However, Eywa had other plans in mind for the young couple and destiny tragically separated them, forever shattering their former entwined paths. Later in life, Tsu'tey finally accepted that all things happen for a reason, and perhaps in another life, Sylwanin would have been his mate. But in this life, Eywa protects the balance of it all and in order for Jake Sully to one day arrive and save this beautiful world, beautiful souls like Sylwanin would have to be sacrificed. Tsu'tey came to terms with this one day, weeks after the battle against the Sky People.
He had plenty of time to think about many things, lying in his nivi and resting from his injuries. As Toruk Makto, Jake happily took temporary command of the Omatikaya clan whilst their olo'eyktan healed from his wounds. It would be a long journey for Tsu'tey, but those who respect him and call him 'brother' were just happy he survived that fall and all those gunshots. At first, he was not as happy or even relieved. Why would Eywa deny him the chance to see Sylwanin again? As he took time to heal, he eventually mourned properly for the first time in years and was able to heal mentally as well as physically. Tsu'tey had finally managed to let his young love go, may she rest in peace.
In return for his loyalty and devotion, Eywa rewarded her olo'eyktan with a gift fit for a good man. However, it would be years before he graciously accepted it.
Tsu'tey was always aware of the other sky demons possessing Na'vi bodies. He had seen many over the years, especially when he was just a student in Grace Augustine's school. He had always found them strange and ugly and didn't hesitate to let Jake know how he felt about his appearance. Jake never took it to heart and eventually learned to laugh at such comments. Tsu'tey grimaced, almost hating the fact that Jake was getting used to him. The other dreamwalkers --"Avatars, brother, they're called avatars,"-- never really got used to him but they greatly respected him, especially after Tsu'tey allowed them to live among the Omatikaya once the rest of the Sky People were sent off-world. He had accepted these 'scientists' and 'avatars' into his village, much to Toruk Makto's influence, and so therefore, over time, Tsu'tey began to treat them all as part of the People-- his people.
As he accepted the sky demons, he also began to learn their names. One of which he was always aware of but had never bothered to learn her name.
Y/n was an avatar driver and a scientist. Even though she hadn't been on Pandora for long, she had been allowed to visit Hometree several times before its destruction, always tagging along when either Grace or Norm Spellman visited. She was part of the young group of scientists who had received an avatar before the battle against the Sky People that actively cut off the scientists' funding to make more, therefore she would be one of the last of them, as would Norm and Jake. In many ways, it was like watching the end of a species that would cease to exist once the avatars all died out. That is until children like Kiri and Lo'ak were born.
By the time Neytiri bore Jake their first son and had adopted Grace's daughter born of mysterious circumstances, Tsu'tey had begun to notice that Y/n was not just a random avatar who opted to stay on Pandora. She had also opted into becoming a mother.
It was safe to say Tsu'tey didn't know of Spider's existence firmly because the baby wasn't old enough to wear a mask and exo-pack yet, therefore he had never visited the village. It wasn't until the fierce olo'eyktan followed Jake to the functional biolab of Hell's Gate one day did he finally meet the next generation of Sky People. At first, Spider was strange to him. With a full head of yellow curls, pink skin, and a gummy smile, Tsu'tey gained enough willpower not to verbally comment about how the sky demons' offspring were even uglier than the avatars. Jake had asked him to be civil prior to this meeting, so he indulged his brother out of respect for Toruk Makto.
If Y/n had seen how put-off Tsu'tey was by her son, she didn't mention it. In fact, she barely acknowledged the clan leader, instead devoting her time to making sure her adventurous toddler didn't get into any trouble. Much to all the scientists' dismay, the child had learned to run before he could walk, therefore the attempts to baby-proof the whole place had been frantic and half-assed at best. But wherever Spider ran, Y/n was not too far behind him, always making a game of the chase and making the toddler laugh until his sides hurt.
From what Tsu'tey had learned, Spider is not Y/n's child by blood. The baby had been left behind when the Sky People left, too young for space travel. Everyone was positive that his biological mother was killed during the Battle of the Hallelujah Mountains, and as for his father... from vague descriptions, Tsu'tey had gathered who the man was and decided not to ask any further. Now, in replace of Spider's biological parents came Y/n. Even though the scientists were all more than happy to help raise the kid together as a village, Y/n had become his sole guardian, claiming that Spider should always have that one person to rely on before all others. She had gone on record stating that the boy needs a mother before a village and he shouldn't be treated as an object or a pet the Sky People pass around. No one questioned her, especially when shown how everything she does she does it for the boy and not for her own selfish needs. The scientists all proudly took the roles of aunts and uncles to the boy, but by all rights except blood, Y/n was Spider's mother. She fed and bathed the baby, clothed him, nurtured him, and sang songs to get him to sleep. Sure, she would let the other scientists help with Spider if she needed to take her avatar out for a drive, but she was determined to be Spider's family when no one had formally stepped up.
Even though he didn't realize it back then, Tsu'tey had come to greatly admire Y/n for her sacrifice and determination to raise a child all on her own. She didn't expect anyone to help and she took motherhood in stride. She acted as if she was always meant to be a mother and she had been waiting for this moment her whole life. After first meeting Spider, Tsu'tey wouldn't visit Hell's Gate for some time and didn't often think about the human child or his mother. It would be years before Tsu'tey is reacquainted with them, their paths crossing once more, and only because Spider was finally old enough to wear a mask.
PANDORA, 2163
Spider was nine years old when he first donned a breathing mask and ventured out into the vast world of Pandora, leaving the square walls of the biolab behind him. The scientists had made it into a whole celebration like it was his birthday, providing gifts of Na'vi-make and even a cake before he got too antsy and was ready to go outside. His mother was equally excited for him. Dawning her avatar, Y/n brought Spider outside after triple-checking that his mask was firmly in place. She first let the boy wander into the treeline a little bit to get the feeling of grass beneath his feet and let him try to climb the trees like the little spider monkey he was named after. He had struggled to climb the first couple of tries but managed to get the hang of it before Y/n took him on a ride aboard her ikran that she had tamed only a few years prior.
While Norm was able to gain a banshee not long after the war, Y/n had decided to wait out her training to become a Na'vi warrior due to raising a human child who couldn't go everywhere with her. Once Spider was old enough not to need his mother every minute of the day, she finally felt comfortable with occasionally leaving Hell's Gate and learning the ways of the Omatikaya. The start of her Iknimaya went smoothly due to the number of teachers she had, and eventually, she came home flying her very own ikran. Spider squealed and laughed from his bedroom window at the sight of the creature, already in love as if his mother had just brought a stray cat home. Y/n immediately sat her son down to gently let him know that an ikran is not a pet and demands respect and space. However, the ikran appeared more than happy to act like the family pet, curiously watching Spider from behind the window and resting right underneath said window whenever the creature wasn't out flying.
And when Spider was finally allowed to go outside, the boy and ikran finally got to officially meet. It was like watching a rescued animal find its forever home. Immediately cozying up and trusting the nine-year-old, the ikran allowed Spider to hug its whole face in his arms while jumping up and down happily. With excitement, Spider begged his mother to take him on a ride and finally, he got to learn what it was like to fly.
Y/n immediately flew Spider to the village so he can lay eyes on all the Na'vi for the first time. The People were happy to greet the child after hearing so many stories from his mother. The Omatikaya had grown to love Y/n and the other scientists as part of the People once they had begun to learn the Na'vi way and tame their own banshees, so when the Na'vi were finally introduced to Spider, it was like meeting the first grandbaby of the family! Everyone wanted to hold Spider due to the fascination of the fact he was still so small at his age, and the kid happily ate up all the attention. Through his excitement, he kept jumping between languages when speaking, but most of the Omatikaya were able to grasp the boy's words with ease and would respond in kind. Eventually, Y/n managed to bring her kid to the Sully marui without too many people resisting, and so Spider got to meet his best friends for the first time.
Jake and Neytiri excitedly welcomed Spider, hugging him and dragging him inside like he was a nephew who had been far away from home for far too long. Y/n followed them into the home, smiling fondly as Spider was introduced to Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo'ak. All three Sully kids were very bug-eyed and curious about this new friend. And for the first time since arriving in the village, Spider was suddenly shy with all the attention he was getting. He ran back to Y/n and hid behind her legs, nervously holding her tail while peeking at the kids behind his mask. The adults all laughed while the Sully kids continued to ask Spider questions until finally, he got comfortable enough to come out of hiding. Y/n and Spider stayed for dinner that evening after the kids begged their parents to let them stay so Spider could play. Once they got over poking and prodding Spider with interest, the two Na'vi boys and girl kept dragging him everywhere, frantically wanting to show him all their toys and favorite hiding spots, acting like he was leaving forever the moment he and Y/n would eventually step out of their home. The adults calmly remind the children that now that Spider is big enough to wear a mask, both he and Y/n would be coming back to the village as many times as they want, but that didn't convince the kids to slow down.
Tsu'tey was invited to dinner as well, but due to his responsibilities, he arrived late and could only stay for a little while. Y/n happily greeted him like an old friend -they had only met a few times over the years-, pressing her fingers to her forehead and lowering them in his direction, "Olo'eyktan. Oel ngati kameie."
Tsu'tey gestured in response out of respect but otherwise said nothing. Had he still been younger and just a warrior, Tsu'tey would've been able to help mentor Y/n during her Iknimaya trials. But due to being olo'eyktan now, he had to hand down those responsibilities to someone who had the time to do so, therefore his meetings with Y/n were far, and few in-between. As she was training, there were communal dinners where both parties were cordial to one another, entertaining small talk but otherwise keeping their respective distance. Y/n had become closer to Jake, Neytiri, and their growing family, therefore she and Tsu'tey saw each other more than usual but still in passing, like two ships in the night. Tsu'tey was like a teacher and an uncle to the Sully children, while Y/n was becoming to be a friend of the family. Now that Spider was in the picture, Tsu'tey had a feeling he had not seen the last of the mother and son.
If everyone thought Spider was shy meeting the Sully kids, they had not seen Spider meeting Tsu'tey. The boy immediately straightened his back and froze like a deer in headlights. Despite being shy and refusing to say a word, the human child looked at Tsu'tey in awe of him, recognizing his station as the clan leader of the Omatikaya. Y/n laughed and gathered her son up in her arms when he couldn't move, facing Tsu'tey so both Na'vi man and human child could get a better look at each other, "Spider, this is Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyo'itan. You've met before, but you were too little to remember. He is olo'eyktan. Do you remember what we say when greeting someone new?"
Under Tsu'tey's stare, Spider's hand shook as he brought his tiny fingers to the top brim of his breathing mask before lowering it in the Na'vi man's direction, speaking just above a whisper, "O-- Oel ngati kameie..."
The marui is silent and the boy waits with bated breath. To Spider's credit and everyone's amazement, Tsu'tey thinly smiled and made the same hand movement back to the child, "You speak very good, taronyutsyìp. Your mother and other caretakers have taught you well."
Spider's frozen shock had broken in exchange for a large, beaming wide smile, staring at Tsu'tey as if the man had just handed him the world. Y/n smiled at her adorable son's reaction and gratefully nodded to Tsu'tey before the moment was broken by none other than Jake's teasing, "How come you weren't complimenting me when I was learning, brother?"
"Because you were a teylupil prrnen who had to hold Neytiri's hand every step of the way," Tsu'tey was quick to respond but made sure to only speak in a hushed voice which only the adults could hear.
Neytiri playfully scolded Tsu'tey for his language and shoved a small niktsyey into his hands before he could leave, all the children confused as to why both Jake and Y/n were laughing to the point they had missed Tsu'tey sneaking out of the pod.
~~~~~~~~~
That was indeed, not the last time Tsu'tey would see Y/n and Spider. The next time they visited the village was a week later, and Tsu'tey wasn't even aware of their presence until his evening tasks were disrupted by a small force running into his legs and hugging them tightly. Startled into looking down, Tsu'tey found Little Spider, not even standing up to the height of the chief's knees, clinging to his strong blue legs for dear life while beaming up at him through his mask. Spider laughed due to Tsu'tey's reaction and paid no mind to his mother when she finally arrived. Tsu'tey didn't even notice Y/n until she stood in front of him, looking guilty and apologetic.
"Forgive me, ma olo'eyktan. He didn't want to go home until he got to see you."
Her ears pinned back against her head, tail drooping as she stared anxiously at the usually fierce and stone-faced clan leader. She looked tired, likely from a long day of following her child everywhere while he went on these new, exciting adventures around the village and surrounding forest. Y/n had volunteered to take Spider and the Sully kids to the nearby river so they could play and let off some steam. Jake and Neytiri had gratefully accepted the offer, ready to have some time away from their children for the first time in years. One look at the female avatar and Tsu'tey could tell just how drained she had been from watching all four children who barely grasp the idea of being 'careful.'
Years later, Tsu'tey will not be able to recall what came over him, but in a split-second decision, he bent down and scooped the little human boy into his arms, much to Spider's delight who squealed and laughed happily. To no one's surprise, the pink-skinned child was lighter than a basket of banana fruit and didn't struggle when Tsu'tey lifted him up over his head until the boy was sitting on his strong, broad shoulders. Spider dutifully grabbed onto Tsu'tey's braids to stay upright, eyes widening in joy and wonderment as he looked around, seeing the world from a new height that Spider could only dream of.
Tsu'tey made no sound to acknowledge his decision, despite already clocking a few bystanders who had stopped to stare at their olo'eyktan in shock before he turned to Y/n, speaking as blunt and firm as always, "He has seen me. Now let's get him to your ikran."
Initially surprised, Y/n could only nod and obediently led the Na'vi man in the direction of the claimed ikran rookery. They walked in silence apart from Spider's ramblings, beaming and waving down at all the Na'vi they passed by. Tsu'tey stubbornly ignores the stares, keeping his head held high and his gaze ahead of him, still exuding the confident, proud walk of a chief without ever acknowledging the sky demon child sitting up on his shoulders. Spider wasn't bothered by his silence, still babbling about all the things he did today and excitedly exclaiming how he couldn't wait until next time. They finally walk up to Y/n's ikran and without a word, she formed tsaheylu and expertly hopped up into her saddle, bending down to accept Spider from Tsu'tey once the man plucked the kid from his shoulders. Taking this time to admire the handiwork Y/n put into making her ikran's saddle as she secured her son in front of her, Tsu'tey nearly made a fool of himself by staring and immediately shook out of his thoughts.
"Now, boy," Tus'tey spoke carefully, lowering his voice so as not to startle the child as he stepped away from the banshee, eyeing Spider with a stern expression, "Be good for your sa'nok the rest of the night. Do not give her trouble and do as your told."
"Yes, sir!" Spider puffed out his chest and dutifully nodded, excited to follow an order straight from the Omatikaya's olo'eyktan.
Y/n huffed in amusement before flashing Tsu'tey a small smile of gratitude, "Thank you, Tsu'tey."
"Get some rest, my friend," Tsu'tey firmly nods back, "That's an order."
To his internal surprise, Y/n laughs, and even though he was confused, Spider laughed with her. Tsu'tey didn't react to their laughter, every muscle in his face coming together to keep as firm and as serious as he could manage. He wasn't sure when was the last time a woman laughed at something he said. Normally, no one laughed at Tsu'tey, believing he was too serious and he was taken as seriously as one could manage. It wasn't as though he was trying to be funny, but it was like Y/n could see something behind his eyes that told her that at this very moment, she didn't have to treat him as the clan leader. Perhaps it was the way he called her 'friend' that made her realize that she didn't have to be so formal around him. Either way, he didn't plan on correcting her manners.
Tsu'tey couldn't remember when they eventually flew away, back to Hell's Gate. He could only remember standing there like an idiot even after the mother and son were out of sight, their gentle, sweet laughter still echoing in his ears.
~~~~~~~~~
It became a sort of tradition. After a long day of being in the village, Spider would always escape his mother and run to Tsu'tey every time she told her son it was time to go home. After the first three times he did this, both Tsu'tey and Y/n just silently agreed to go along with it and indulge the child in his little tradition. Every evening Y/n and Spider were visiting the clan, the olo'eyktan could count on the young boy to find him like clockwork, then Tsu'tey will, again, lift Spider up onto his shoulders and follow Y/n back to her ikran.
Tsu'tey noticed that the mother and child were visiting the village more and more and he chalked it up to be because Neytiri had just announced that she was pregnant again. Everyone was ecstatic, especially the children. Knowing that a new baby was on the way, Spider could be spotted around the Sully marui almost every single day. The kid was in awe at the idea of meeting someone who was finally going to be smaller than him, at least for a little while. He also fully ramped the other Sully kids up, getting them to be excited for another little sibling, especially Lo'ak, who was ready to finally be a big brother instead of the youngest.
As tradition goes, the People would gift the expecting parents food and necessities in preparation for the unborn child. It was a good way to help Jake and Neytiri focus on their growing family and pay more attention to their three children instead of worrying about getting much-needed supplies ready for the baby. After Y/n explained this tradition to her son, Spider was determined to also present a gift to Jake and Neytiri, and who else could possibly help him with that but none other than Tsu'tey?
The olo'eyktan helps the boy, despite the nagging voice in the back of his head, and tries his best to help when he has the time. If Tsu'tey is not making his usual errands, he can be found with the human boy who practically drags him through the forest, looking for appropriate items to gift the Sullys. Y/n usually goes with them, never too far from her son, therefore she finds herself in Tsu'tey's company more than she ever has in all the years she's known him. And he doesn't appear bothered by it. In fact, he inwardly looks forward to these small adventures, feeling like a young warrior again who could freely leave the village without too many responsibilities weighing down his shoulders. Either Spider blindly takes the two adults through the trees without any idea of where he was heading, or he lets Tsu'tey take the lead, always excited for where the chief will take them now. The three of them do this for an entire week until Spider presents Neytiri with a beautiful bracelet with six, various different colors of beads to represent how many people will soon be in her family. Neytiri's smile was like starlight, so wide and emotional as she pulls the small boy into her arms, kissing the glass of his mask as tears stream down her cheeks. After Spider asks her why she was crying, she was quick to reassure him that they were happy tears and tells him how much she loved his gift, all the while Tsu'tey and Y/n are standing off to the side, fondly watching this scene take place.
It was an eye-opening moment for the usually fierce, stone-faced olo'eyktan. He had been standing so close to Y/n, closer than he had ever allowed himself to be with anyone, while they both watched Spider beam up at Neytiri and happily ramble about his adventures while finding the perfect beads for his bracelet. As the child explained that Tsu'tey and Y/n always went with him, even Neytiri looked surprised, glancing up at the two other adults with her ears flicking with interest. Tsu'tey swallowed and stood firm, trying not to appear nervous under the Na'vi woman's gaze.
Neither Spider nor Y/n noticed this brief interaction as the boy finally turns back to his mother and the olo'eyktan, remembering their presence and running toward them, cheering, "She liked it! She liked it!"
"I can see that," Y/n smiled, giggling as she bent down to receive Spider, picking him up in her arms without a sweat. Normally, it's a struggle in her human body to lift him up as he continues to grow, but as an avatar, it's like holding a three-year-old again. Oh, how she missed those days.
Still in Y/n's arms, Spider reaches for Tsu'tey, making grabby hands at the man who stood close enough for the boy to touch him. Tsu'tey nearly froze under the boy's attention, his own tongue betraying him when he couldn't find anything to say. It was too domestic, watching the way Spider looked for approval from both Y/n and Tsu'tey. Watching as both Spider's and Y/n's eyes land on him nearly takes his breath away, as if seeing the pair of them through rose-tinted glasses for the first time. And while standing so close, Tsu'tey can almost pretend, just for a moment, that Spider was not just any child, but his, the child wanting to share the events of his day as he had run to both Tsu'tey and his mother like they came as a pair, not just one or the other.
This was the first time Tsu'tey ever realized the gift Eywa was offering to him, but at the time was too cowardly to accept it. Taking one last look at the way Spider leaned his soft pink head on Y/n's blue shoulder, Tsu'tey looked away, purposely engraving the sight of those two small brown and gold pairs of eyes staring questionably up at him.
Even though there was no need to go out into the forest anymore, Tsu'tey still insisted on taking the mother and son out on adventures under the guise that it was time Spider learned how to gather and forage. Tsu'tey firmly stated that the boy needed to recognize certain plants before he could ever learn to become a hunter. Spider perked up at this idea, cheering and running to Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo'ak to brag about his upcoming lessons. Y/n appeared hesitant at first -call it a mother's concern- but eventually accepted the idea, happily tagging along so she could witness her son's first lesson.
One lesson became two, then three, then four, five, and six. Eventually, Tsu'tey had lost count of the number of days he had squeezed in time to teach Spider the ways of the Na'vi. It had been weeks, easily, and he had no intention of stopping. He was exhausted between his usual duties and his newly acquired student, but Tsu'tey would only have to look as far as Spider and Y/n's smiles to think it was all worth it.
Before he knew it, Y/n had fully completed her Iknimaya. After surviving the Uniltaron, she was painted and born a second time as one of the People. The whole clan was happy for her, and even Tsu'tey bore a small but genuine smile as he stood before her as her olo'eyktan and welcomed her into the Omatikaya clan, placing his arms on her shoulders as everyone else followed suit, creating an overflowing circle of Na'vi all around her.
With Y/n being recognized as a member of the clan, Tsu'tey feels a small barrier break between them. Something unspoken had come to light and before he could argue with himself, Tsu'tey had done something he hadn't done in a while.
His carving skills needed improvement after so many years of nonuse, but it was still a talent he possessed. The next time he spotted Y/n and Spider in the village, he boldly approached them without a second thought. Spider saw him first and excitedly ran to Tsu'tey, hugging his legs until the olo'eyktan crouched down to his height. Y/n walked up to them just as Tsu'tey held out his hand to the boy, "For you, Spider."
Spider greedily held out both of his hands with wide, bewildered eyes just as Tsu'tey handed him a simple but perfectly carved wooden pa'li toy. Spider initially stood there, shocked, staring down at the toy while Tsu'tey began to shuffle uncomfortably on his heels, "I understand if you think you are too big for toys--"
His backtracking was quickly interrupted by Spider lunging at him, throwing his little arms around the man's neck before practically squeezing the air out of him. Tsu'tey let out a gust of wind at the impact, unaware that the kid had that much strength in such a small body. It took a moment, but eventually, Tsu'tey began to awkwardly pat the boy on the back while Spider continued to hug fiercely.
Y/n was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling and was failing miserably, the smile stretching far enough to make her facial muscles hurt. Tsu'tey bravely peered up at her and offered his best, closed-mouth smirk, despite still awkwardly holding the child in his arms. Y/n took a deep breath and was able to rein in the smile until it was small and gentle, clearing her throat to get her son's attention, "What do you say, Spider?"
"Thank you. Irayo, " Spider whispered into Tsu'tey's ear before finally pulling away, clutching the pa'li toy in one hand while his mother took the other. Slowly, they both walk away but would occasionally look back at Tsu'tey with those sweet, dazzling smiles that make Tsu'tey feel as though he had just lifted a mountain that was in the mother and son's path. After they disappeared into the crowd, he finally stood back up, stubbornly ignoring all the stares the scene no doubt caused before going about his day as normally as he could.
Once almost every week, Tsu'tey would have something new to offer Spider. It could be a toy, small bracelets, armbands, or even Na'vi child-sized clothes, Tsu'tey would make them all for the small human child. Spider's personal favorite was the small bow, already strung up and carved to his tiny size with equally small, harmless arrows. Over time, Spider was becoming more accustomed to Na'vi culture and started to wear his hair in beads and braids and continuously wore a loincloth. The Sully kids were eager to help Spider form his new style but it wasn't hard to get the supplies, seeing as though Tsu'tey had already provided Spider with everything he needed to complete the look. Each gift was more thoughtful and appreciative than the last, and each time, seeing the look on both mother and child's faces made Tsu'tey feel a thousand times lighter.
He thought he was being subtle, but that was far from the truth. Nearly everyone could see it apart from himself. He knew he had been a fool to believe otherwise when he was abruptly visited by his parents, cornering him in his own marui.
"What is this about you courting a demon?" His mother, Artsut, sternly asked.
"I am not courting anyone." He easily answered without hesitation.
"That is not what we heard. The People say their olo'eyktan has taken a liking to the dreamwalker they call Y/n and her demon child."
"Is that truly what the People say, Mother? Or is it just you?" Tsu'tey accused, eyes narrowed on her, "From what I have seen, the People love Y/n and Spider."
"Spider?" His father, Ateyo, repeated the name on his tongue and screwed up his nose, "What a strange name."
"This is not acceptable," Artsut shook her head, "You should have taken Saeyla as your mate when you had the chance. At least she is one of the People and she would have accepted you."
Tsu'tey nodded in agreement, but kept his face impassive, "Yes. She would have. But I will not have her and she will not have me. She is mated with Ka'ani now."
"You should have chosen her the moment Neytiri ran off to mate with a tawtute."
His eyes darken a shade of color and his parents are quickly reminded that they spoke to the olo'eyktan, one of said tawtute's strongest allies who was quick to defend Jake Sully after years of friendship, "You will not address Toruk Makto in such a way. And I do not want you to ever speak of Y/n as if she is not Omatikaya. She has learned our ways and had successfully completed her Iknimaya. In time, her son will follow her footsteps."
The sneer on his mother's face was potent as ever, "Do you actually believe that a sky demon can complete the task of becoming a warrior when he doesn't even have a tswin? Even if he were to be accepted as one of the People, he will struggle all his life and suffer without the means of bonding with the Forest, the animals, or even other Na'vi! You are olo'eyktan and your duty to the People also involves having heirs to succeed you! Raising this human child alongside this dreamwalker will end your line!"
Her voice had only ever risen higher until his father gently placed a withered hand on her shoulder. Artsut immediately silences herself while Ateyo turns to Tsu'tey, "Maitan. Tell us the truth. Are you courting this woman?"
Tsu'tey grits his teeth, staring both of them down, "I am not."
The words are bitter on his tongue, distasteful. What he would give to say otherwise and make his parents flinch as if in pain. His mother shook her head, her tone quieter but still accusatory, "Others have seen you gift the child many things. Do you think we are blind and deaf? We hear whispers, Tsu'tey. We hear that to win Y/n's heart is to dote on her son. You may not be courting the woman with gifts for her, but you are courting her with gifts for her son."
The marui grew in unpalpable silence. Tsu'tey remained quiet, unable to deny it, but kept his gaze sharp and locked onto Ateyo and Artsut. Ever since he became Eytukan's heir as olo'eyktan, he had learned to stop listening to his parents constantly whispering in his ears. He had quickly realized how poisonous they were, hungry for power, believing they know the will of Eywa better than anyone, even Mo'at. He had thought he had fed their thirst for power after becoming olo'eyktan, but that still wasn't good enough for them. For years now, they have shaped Tsu'tey's younger brother, Arvok, into their preferred image now that their golden son had chosen his own path without their consent. Tsu'tey wished his brother had learned to stop leading by their influence and start forming his own future, but has been unable to advise Arvok to do so, given how busy he is as the clan leader. On top of growing up in Tsu'tey's shadow until recent years, Arvok has no part of himself that their parents didn't twist and manipulate. Arvok was no longer his own person and it broke Tsu'tey's heart to watch from a distance, unable to save his brother from himself.
A wave of guilt washes over Tsu'tey but he strongly holds firm, blatantly refusing to let his emotions show, let alone in front of his sa'sem. He regrets not taking Arvok under his wing. He regrets taking time to be with Y/n and Spider and none to be with his own flesh and blood. Perhaps a small part of himself believed he could help his brother if he could help someone as hopeless as Spider, someone who couldn't truly become one of the People, just like his parents said--
'No. That is not you talking. Already they are trying to spin their words to make it sound like your own. Do not let them poison you.'
His own thoughts drown out all the doubt and regret and so Tsu'tey shakes his head to be rid of them with a deep, dark snarl, baring his fangs at his mother and father, "You forget yourselves. You forget your place. You are right about one thing. I am olo'eyktan, and I don't take orders from you. I will never listen to you or agree with you because every word that falls from your mouth is like a sharp blade in my ears. Your ways are of the past when I, your chief, aim toward the future. By the laws of our people, Y/n is taronyu, and Spider is her son. That is enough for me, and I order you to keep whatever you have to say about that woman and her child to yourselves from now on."
~~~~~~~~~
Despite holding firm against Ateyo and Artsut, Tsu'tey couldn't help but feel sour for the rest of the week about what was said in the confinements of that room. Their lecture plus Eytukan's teachings continued to ring in his ears, unable to let him rest. They were right that as olo'eyktan, it was his duty to find a proper heir to take his place and guide the People after he is gone. He could sire an heir or choose one from the clan, but he must choose wisely, nevertheless.
For years, Tsu'tey never worried about heirs. He was openly adamant in wishing Jake Sully to take his place should something untimely happen to him. Toruk Makto had sons and a daughter with possibly another on the way. At the very least, Jake's line of succession was secure if he was olo'eyktan.
But Tsu'tey was alone.
It didn't help that as olo'eyktan, he was still in need of a mate who would one day become tsahik. Mo'at has made it very clear to him, "I am not getting any younger. I will need at least three seasons to train a woman before she can become tsahik."
Neytiri was no longer tsakarem due to choosing Jake as her mate, and while Kiri was a good option for Mo'at to take under her wing, the young girl was still too young to worry about such responsibility. Tsu'tey was positive that Mo'at would rather have her granddaughter become tsahik over whoever he chose as a mate, but he was positive it was due to favoritism. Mo'at would rather teach family over a stranger, and Tsu'tey couldn't blame her for that. Her own legacy was shattered due to losing her first daughter and becoming estranged from the other, neither of who was capable of becoming tsahik like their mother one day.
The harsh reminder of Sylwanin made Tsu'tey's stomach clench with guilt and despair. He had moved past her death years ago, but at the idea of him finally moving on, the phantom pain returned to make him feel regret all over again.
She was meant to be his mate for life, and this all felt as though he was betraying her.
Tsu'tey let his feet take them to a destination, and they end up leading him to the Sully marui. Inside, Neytiri was alone since Jake decided to take the kids fishing with Spider and Y/n, her baby bump becoming more visible by the day. Looking up and recognizing Tsu'tey, she only held his gaze with a smug, all-knowing expression.
He scowled while walking further into the home, sitting across from her, "I assume you heard the rumors."
She shrugged, smirking, "I think everyone has heard or seen something or other. The question is whether or not it's true."
The man hesitates, unable to form the proper words he wanted to say. Here sat his young love's sister, someone who would know better than anyone how he feels because she suffers the same pain and loss every day. And yet... like Sylwanin, he felt as though he was betraying Neytiri as well, "I... I don't know."
Her gaze narrows at him, surprised and under scrutiny, "You don't know?"
"I thought I did," Tsu'tey confessed, his eyes only gazing at the small fire between them, "I was ready to take and bring both of them into my care."
"Then what's stopping you?" She carefully watches him as they sat in silence, letting it linger and simmer like the meat she had just hung over the fire. When Tsu'tey had yet to look up, Neytiri had discovered the answer on her own, "Sylwanin?"
Solemnly, he nods, "We were promised to each other. It is a promise meant forever."
Her posture relaxes, relenting whatever tease she planned on dishing him out in exchange for pity. Her words were gentle as she spoke, forlorn and sympathetic, "You were not mated yet, Tsu'tey, and it was many, many years ago. You are allowed to grieve, mourn, and miss my sister. But I think she would understand if you had fallen for someone else."
Leaning forward to the best of her ability in her condition, she reaches and grabs tightly onto Tsu'tey's hand. Finally, once his eyes met hers, Neytiri whispered, "She wouldn't want you to be alone forever."
She lets him think about what she said, turning back to the food she was preparing in silence. Neytiri lets Tsu'tey hide away in her home, stewing with his thoughts as the village moves on about their day around them. Before eclipse could even make an appearance, Jake and Y/n return with the children from their fishing trip. Looking up, both Neytiri and Tsu'tey take note of how exhausted all the kids look, especially Spider, who was passed out cold in Jake's arms alongside Kiri.
Jake smiles at his wife before turning to Tsu'tey to properly greet him, "Brother. I'd offer you my arm, but I kinda got my hands full."
"So I see," Tsu'tey huffed, slightly amused at the sight before his gaze flicks over to the woman standing beside Jake, "And how are you, Y/n?"
She appeared startled at the question being directed at her, but quickly covered it up with a soft smile, nodding down to Tsu'tey, "I'm alright, ma olo'eyktan. Thank you."
Neytiri smirked, sparing one glance up at her husband before pretending to absentmindedly hum in thought, "Perhaps if you leave us Spider's spare mask, Y/n, you could leave him here for tonight and have at least a few hours to yourself?"
Both Neteyam and Lo'ak are suddenly wide awake, ears perking up at the mother's intention. Y/n paused, about to open her mouth when Jake beat her to it, "That's not a bad idea. He's already asleep and there isn't a reason to wake him," the female avatar turned to the male one, who's quick to reassure her, "I promise he'll be in good hands. And the kids would love to wake up in the morning to find Spider still here."
Again, the concern Y/n displayed on her face was about to voice her answer before Neteyam spoke up, keeping his voice sweet and soft, "Please, Aunt Y/n? Can Spider stay here tonight?"
Lo'ak chimed in, too, albiet a bit louder, "Can we have a sleepover? Pleeeaase?"
All the adults present quickly shushed the young boy when Kiri and Spider squirmed in their sleep but everyone relaxed when the sleeping children eventually settled back down. Jake moves further into the marui to gently place them down on the mats while Y/n turned around only to be met with two round pairs of pleading gold eyes staring up at her, both Neteyam and Lo'ak poking their bottom lips out for added measure.
Y/n snorts, playfully rolling her eyes, "Well, who could say 'no' to those charming little faces?"
Both the boys silently cheer and run in the direction of the other two sleeping children, anxious to join the growing cuddle pile. Y/n watches them go with amusement before she hands Neytiri the spare mask she always kept hooked around the belt of her cargo shorts, "I'll be back for him early in the morning."
"No need to rush," Neytiri smiled with assurance, "Just stop by for breakfast and you can take him home after."
Jake then proceeds to hand the single mother a throat mic and earpiece, "Just in case we need to contact you or you just wanna talk to him."
Y/n visibly relaxed a little at the lengths both Jake and Neytiri were going just to make her feel comfortable leaving her son with them. She dutifully nods and clips on the throat mic as Tsu'tey stands to meet her, the olo'eyktan tilting his head to the marui exit, "Let's get you to your ikran."
If she found his offer unexpected, she didn't show it and followed Tsu'tey out of the marui, unaware of the knowing look Neytiri was watching them leave with. Once they disappeared, Jake turned to his mate with a confused expression, "What was that about?"
Neytiri's eyes shine with a mischievous gleam behind those golden orbs,  "With any luck, by the end of the night, Spider will officially have a father and we will have our future tsahik."
~~~~~~~~~
Tsu'tey and Y/n mostly walked in silence back to her ikran, the beauty of the night slowly making itself known as eclipse finally arrives. Over the years, Y/n was used to how intense and silent Tsu'tey could be and no longer found these quiet interactions awkward. If anything, the silence was actually comforting.
They approach her ikran and Y/n busies herself by tending to the banshee, comforting the creature when it squawks indignant and trying to look occupied to calm her own nerves. It was possible her ikran could sense said nerves and continued to act belligerent. Eventually, Y/n turned back to the olo'eyktan and nods in gratitude, "Thank you, Tsu'tey. I'll be back again in the morning."
He only nods and so Y/n took it as a sign to take her leave as the silence lingers. Double-checking the straps of her ikran's harness, she swung her leg over the creature and grabbed her queue braid--
"Y/n..."
She looked up, "Yes?"
Concern clouded her mind as Tsu'tey's eyes briefly look away, unable to meet her gaze. His ears flick at the same speed as his eyes, betraying him of his nerves as he spoke, "Do you wish to be courted?"
Befuddled, her eyes narrow cautiously, tilting her head with curiosity. Perhaps she heard him wrong, "What?"
He took a deep breath to steady himself, straightening up to be the taller more regal olo'eyktan she had come to know him. His voice is suddenly more confident and formal as he finally looks up at her, "It would be a great honor, Y/n of the Sky People and of the Omatikaya, if you would allow me to officially court you."
Y/n could initially do nothing but sit there on the back of her ikran, frozen and dumbfounded. The silence that was once so normal and comfortable between them was now intense and tightly wound like a meresh'ti cau'pla. As the avatar woman replayed his words back in her head, she couldn't depict anything else from the proposal other than one singular word, "'Officially?'"
Tsu'tey nods while further explaining, "It was not my intention to let you believe I was only tending to your boy in the hopes of courting you, nor do I wish for you to believe that I expect something from you in exchange for training your son. Spider is a spirited child and he is lucky to have a wonderful woman for his mother. You and your son have shown me what it would look like to be a part of your family and now that I have a taste of it, I want to know more. I wish to court you not just in the hopes of being your mate, but one day-- if you and the boy will have me, I want Spider to one day look up to me as his father."
The confession was something Y/n wouldn't have expected in a million years. It wasn't as though she believed Tsu'tey to be too proud, but as the clan leader he had a reputation to uphold and a responsibility regarding the wellbeing of his people. Immediately her thoughts turned to what other Na'vi might think about their olo'eyktan taking a sky demon as his mate, someone who can walk in two bodies instead of one, an alien whose species would do unspeakable things to cheat death and go against everything Eywa stood for. She never took herself to be an insecure person, but Y/n couldn't help the fear she felt when thinking about what the Na'vi people might think about her son if she decides to allow Tsu'tey to adopt him. Sure, the Omatikaya act as though they love Spider now, but what about when they learn that their olo'eyktan's legacy depends on a boy born from the Sky People?
Despite her fears, she couldn't help but think about how much happier Spider has been around Tsu'tey and the village. Y/n thought about how the boy would suddenly become sad upon returning to the biolab and leaving his friends behind, or how when he adamantly talked, it was only about the Na'vi and the Sully kids and of course whatever Tsu'tey had taught him that day. Though Y/n and the other scientists have tried to teach Spider the ways of the Sky People with the proper education and history of their culture, the kid doesn't want anything to do with Earth and tends to stick with whatever he had learned from the Omatikaya. Over time, Y/n had told the other scientists to give it up, coming to terms that Spider didn't want to learn about where he came from, only about the home he had now and the friends he had gained. Y/n couldn't blame him. Tsu'tey was a better teacher than even Max or Norm when it came to the topics Spider wanted to actually learn about. Tsu'tey was patient but firm. Informative but vigor. On one hand, he would make sure Spider listened and held onto every word he said, but on the other, he was a good listener and would praise Spider for every achievement made in his lessons. Y/n remembered watching them with fondness, amused and delighted by their interactions. As often as she sees her son and the olo'eyktan together, the more she, too wished to see what would happen if she allowed herself to feel something for that man. The man who opened his arms out to selected Sky People, allowing them into his village. The man who took Spider under his wing despite the fact the boy was human and treated him with kindness and respect even though he didn't have to. Tsu'tey has every reason to hate the Sky People and the face Spider wears, but he doesn't, and what Y/n initially thought she felt was admiration for Tsu'tey was actually a growing love for him and his character.
But she had stamped down her feelings because she was afraid of getting Spider's hopes up. She couldn't afford to disappoint her son when he already adores Tsu'tey to no end. When Y/n opened her mouth, she whispered her own confession to the olo'eyktan anxiously waiting for an answer, "... He already does."
She watches as his eyes widen before she made the decision to hop back down from her banshee, closing in the gap between them as she took the necessary steps to stand right before Tsu'tey. She watched his eyes for a moment, looking for something, likely making sure he wasn't joking despite knowing he was the last person on this planet who would. She hadn't realized they were standing so close until she felt the warm air of his breath softly fanning her face, causing her to blink rapidly and clear her throat when her skin began to prickle into a soft blush. Ignoring her brief fluster, she allowed herself to slowly, cautiously lean forward and felt relief when Tsu'tey did as well. Their foreheads faintly touch until their movements became bolder, pressing closer until they were sharing the same tight space and combating the tense air between them. Leaning into him further, Y/n closed her eyes and basked in his embrace, "You really want this?"
His shaky exhale hits her face, her eyelashes briefly twitching but otherwise remaining closed as if afraid to open and see his expression. Tsu'tey's voice was less confident now and more breathless, unable to take in a full gulp of air in this woman's presence. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the closeness, even if only for tonight, he didn't care if it was selfish. He gently gripped her arm as he whispered, wanting to pull her even closer to him than possible, "Yes. By Eywa, yes."
Her lips twitched into a smile at the same time her heart lept in joy, "I accept your proposal."
Faintly patting his chest, she then pulled away, both of them opening their eyes and smiling shyly at one another. Y/n blindly backs away to reach her ikran, unwilling to look away until the last second, "I'll see you in the morning."
~~~~~~~~~
Also heavily inspired by illustrations called ‘our paths crossing’ by kening zhu
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Lemme know if you would like a Part 2! I was hoping to write more for this but it was starting to get long, so you decide if it should continue! Also leave a request in my inbox but be sure to check up on the rules first. Thank you!
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