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star-girl69 · 4 months

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Cherry Blossom

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

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synopsis: headcanons about you and clarisse and your new adopted kid

a/n: idk inspiration strikes randomly but enjoy

Cherry Blossom - Lana Del Rey

warnings: not proofread, probs ooc clarisse but I DONT CARE I DO WHAT I WANT, swearing, mentions of violence and weapons, idk pretty chill, tell me if i missed anything!!

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clarisse never really felt anything towards kids

sure some of them are cute

she likes her younger siblings, bc she gets a real kick out of being able to teach someone who ACTUALLY has talent

she wants a mini army of ares kids w her skill

she would DESTROY in capture the flag

but then along comes your little sibling ivy

even clarisse admits that that’s a cute kid

and you just LOVE this little baby

she has the same hair color and skin as you and yours just like omg my baby

she comes to camp when she’s like 10

bc her mortal parent has a new family and doesn’t rly want her anymore

she never really talks about it but you know that it hurts her

and then it’s like omg this adorable little baby needs a mom EYE will be her mom

clarisse is so confused as to why you love ivy so much

but you are DETERMINED

clarisse is trying to have a nice little date with you and then you walk over with ivy on your hip

she’s about to like explode

but one day you’re helping ivy get used to holding a sword and clarisse watches you from afar and she’s like OH MY GOD bc you are teaching her WRONG

so she marches over even tho she’s supposed to be doing something

“oh my god y/n y/n please i love you so much but STOP”

“what ☹️☹️”

“you are teaching her wrong just move over again i love you but MOVE OVER”

so then she teaches ivy just like the basic stances and ivy is like GOOD

you’re both impressed

but she just has a natural talent

and then all of a sudden clarisse is like oh yeah so this is my child and i would kill for her

ivy is the most spoiled camper at camp

like she always gets little baubles and things from the hephaestus kids you ask them to make and clarisse threatens them to make

you get her the BIGGEST piece of dessert every day

clarisse is a bit more bad cop tho

she’s not afraid to tell ivy to go do 20 push ups if she does smth wrong

and you’re just like “WHY ARE YOU TORTURING THE PRECIOUS BABY????”

it’s so funny bc you and clarisse will just be like tucking ivy in every night and it’s SO jarring bc clarisse is like “ok my little warrior have sweet dreams” and kissing her forehead

all of your siblings are confused but very happy!!!! ivy deserves loving parents even if they are two teenage girls

ivy is also the most popular and influential 10 year old at camp

like everyone knows her name and everyone knows to give her what she wants

there was this one day when some older camper accidentally bumped into her and bc she’s just a baby and so tiny (☹️❤️❤️) she got KNOCKED to the ground

and you’re like “OH MY GOD MY BABY”

and clarisse is like “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” about to punch the guy and then ivy starts crying bc she skinned her knee and then clarisse is like WHAT

she throws the kid to the ground and she’s like freaking out

overprotective clarisse you can never escape her

so then you’re all like running off the infirmary and ivy is FINE like you and clarisse are just insane

and then one time another younger kid was being mean to ivy and you actually had to hold clarisse back from attacking this 12 year old

ivy definitely picks up her habits from the two of you

someone pisses her off and she will just start attacking them

clarisse is trying so hard not to be proud while you tell ivy that violence is not the answer

but then clarisse is like “OH WHO CARES Y/N THAT WAS SUCH A GREAT KICK AND AN EVEN BETTER PUNCH”

“CLARISSE NO”

the ONLY two people clarisse is affectionate with are you and ivy like ivy is always climbing her like a jungle gym bc clarisse is just so strong and can like do all these crazy things w her

clarisse will literally throw her up into the air really high and catch her

ivy fucking loves it

you have a heart attack

and now they have to do it in secret 💔

you always tuck ivy in together but let’s be real most nights ivy ends up in your bed

and clarisse is all pissed off

so she ends up sneaking into your cabin and your bed every night

like just a huge tangle of limbs and blankets and ivy snores but it’s not that loud and it’s adorable

like the ONE night clarisse didn’t sneak into your bed ivy had a nightmare and you were like oh no way

bc most nights clarisse comes in at like 11pm and you’re already asleep but you know she’s there and you wake up next to her so

but you wake up to comfort ivy and you’re like WHERE THE FUCK IS CLARISSE

and then ivy realizes CLARISSE IS NOT THERE

it’s like some super dramatic scene in a movie you wrap up ivy in a blanket and come into the area cabin and start berating clarisse

“do you just hate us? bc it is ONE THIRTY THREE in the morning and you are NOT in my bed and poor ivy had a nightmare and you WERE NOT THERE”

clarisse is like looking at you like what

half of her siblings are awake and just watching this crying child you’re holding cross her arms and shake her head disapprovingly and clarisse is not even awake yet

“baby idek what you’re saying just come lay down”

“yes but we’re talking about this in the morning”

“…okay”

of course all is forgiven the next morning after a nice sleep

there was this one night you were at the campfire and then ivy just found some random person’s dagger? and she’s like

“y/n!!! clarisse!!! look what i found!!!!”

“what do you have?”

“a knife!!!!”

“NO”

like that one meme y’all know

and then you have to chase her down

clarisse gives her a very blunt sort of dagger thing to play with and ivy is very happy

it’s so weird bc clarisse is like yk being all grumpy and mean and then ivy or you walks around and she’s like AHHHHHH MY LOVES

also when percy shows up he’s so confused

like the scene where she pushes him over you walk over with ivy and then ivy literally JUMPS from your arms to clarisse’s bc she knows she’ll catch her

and then clarisse is like “omg hi my little warrior how is your day?”

“OH MY GOD I THREW A ROCK REALLY HIGH I’M SO STRONG”

you’re like “no seriously it was like 10 feet high”

“omg baby that’s so amazing i’m so proud of you”

then everyone around you is like “oh wow ivy that’s so amazing you are so strong”

bc ivy is just an adorable baby and also bc they don’t want to incur clarisse’s wrath

she don’t PLAY about ivy’s happiness

percy is ????

then clarisse is like “oh isn’t that so funny my 10 year old baby can throw a rock higher than you probably can”

PERCY IS ??????

that’s all i got y’all

in conclusion ivy is just your perfect little angel princess

and you and ivy are the lights of clarisse’s life

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taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #clarisse and ivy and y/n: the perfect family

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rippersz · 2 months

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𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚

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(Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Reader) (NSFW: Cunnilingus, Overstimulation; Fluff) (~1.3K words)

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Brienne held the kindest soul. Always hidden behind a tough exterior, yes, but kind nevertheless. She was so eager to be of service and fight for her honor, for her morals, for her people. Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, the best of her ranks. The best of her warriors. Perhaps not as strong as some of the men, but definitely more intelligent. Definitely more lithe. Quick, even in her armor. Brutal, even in her training.

You enjoyed watching from the walls of the castle, looking down at the training grounds with amused eyes as she barked orders and corrected stances and cut down a few arrogant souls with one swift slash of her sword. It wasn’t very funny to her, but sometimes, in the dark of night beneath your blankets, you were able to pull a laugh or two from her tired body. Gossiping about how stupid and oaf-ish some of the men could be, and mimicking their silly deep voices so outrageously that she was forced to wack at your shoulder and roll her eyes in eternal exasperation. You delighted in those moments, especially when you could lean over and push a smooshed sloppy kiss onto her cheek - giggling when she shoved you away and pretended to get sick into her palm. Also a tactic to hide the blush on her face, but you never confronted her about it.

Though it was no surprise, of course, for a woman like Brienne to take her passion for combat into other areas of her life. Her vigor when mounting and riding her horse, the quick sharp movements of her hand and her penmanship, and the way she pulled on her armor without needing help. All done with a certain level of dedication and precision. All done without complaint. You admired those qualities about her, and you told her so often.

You told her so often… when you weren’t being fucked dumb on top of her face. Held by her strong hands. With a dedicated, precision-focused Brienne looking up at you through hooded lashes.

She was flushed and sweating, with the soft baby hairs at her temples slicking back into the rest of her golden locks. Splayed out like a halo on the front of the feathered pillow. She was an absolute vision there, your warrior. Eyes so dark and sharp, watching the way your breasts bounced and your lips parted - swollen from the biting kisses she placed there not too long ago. Something had happened earlier in the day that led to her desperation. The very moment the door to your quarters was closed and locked, those calloused hands were running to your hips and bringing you in. Closer and closer and closer to her, until she nearly ripped the shirt from her head and the dress from your body.

“I’ve missed you,” she huffed into your ear before pressing hot kisses down the line of your neck, trailing her tongue in a delightful little dance across your skin. You were so sensitive for her, and so familiar with being in control, that the loss of it had you losing your courage.

“You saw me- oh gods- e-earlier,” was your whispered response, though it was shoved out of your mouth by the hand that wound itself into your hair and tugged backward.

“I don’t care,” Brienne seethed. “I always miss you.” And the softness that came with such words was only reserved for you. In front of others, she wouldn’t dare, but there were no others there. It was only you, grasping her shoulders, and her, leaning down and walking you toward the bed.

The bed, where she had you falling apart.

The bed, which you could barely see because dear fucking gods her tongue was ruining your senses. It was an eager thing. Absolutely hungry. Running over your clit in perfect circles, flicking and teasing and pulling soft whimpers from your chest. Stroking the flames of your desire, building them up and up and up until they swallowed you whole. From the prickles of heat at the base of your skull all the way to your curling toes and shaking thighs. You were so sensitive, pushing yourself against the wall to stop yourself from losing balance, utterly embarrassed to feel the drool leak out of your mouth as the overwhelming tide of bliss came over you again. And again. And again. Washing away your thoughts, your earthly desires, and leaving a raw woman behind. Shuddering above the wicked mouth of your lover, with her sharp jaw burning in exertion and her sweet brow furrowed, too concentrated to care about her tired muscles. Long fingers kept you pinned, digging into the crease of your thigh and tummy, and her arms flexed with the strength it took to keep you still and open for her. At her dear excruciating mercy. Quivering on top of that handsome face and feeling your muscles clench eagerly when she filled you up with her tongue and moaned. Forcing the warm flutters from your body while she closed those gorgeous blue eyes and lapped at your mess.

“B-Brienne- please!” Your words were slurred and sloppy, mumbled helplessly against the wall. Every part of your body crumbled from the exquisite burn. “Please- ungh- can’t-”

But Brienne didn’t care if you could or couldn’t. The only response you got was a throaty groan and a small quirk of pale, wet lips. Her silent pleasure at your beautiful praise. Her gentle purrs at your eager whines. She was more than willing to drown in you - if only it meant you were satisfied and happy and so tired by the end of it that she wouldn’t have to feel embarrassed about you being the ‘big spoon’. That is, of course, if your arms ever became strong enough to hold her again. It was far too easy to lose yourself in the pleasure she gave, desperate and starved, and when your hands ran to tangle themselves in her soft hair, she seemed to know that just for a moment- you had had enough.

“Dear gods Brienne!” You huffed as soon as her arms pulled you down toward her chest and she had enough leverage to flip you around and put herself on top. “That- I-” a soft whine bubbled up from your throat, swiftly cutting off your words when she leaned down and pressed soft pecks to your cheeks and neck. They were easy and light, so quick and delicate on your skin that they could’ve been raindrops. Your eyes slid closed with bliss. Whatever you were going to say was lost to the feeling of her chest pressing into your own and the sweet subtle hum between your legs.

“Are you alright?” Brienne murmured, shoving her mouth against the space above your heart to grant it the sweetest of kisses.

All you could give her, your darling warrior, was a pleased grunt. You were more than alright. You were loved. Cared for. You were pleasured within an inch of your life and intelligent conversation was far above you then. Perhaps after a warm night together, you’d be able to return the favor in the morning. Though Brienne was never the type of woman to care so much about reciprocation, and the soft amused snort she responded with was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard.

“Can I- tomorrow- hng.” You stuttered, waving your hand like a white flag in the air. Too tired to bother stringing together a proper sentence.

Brienne’s smile was small and full of pride when she sat up.

“Rest now, love,” she leaned in and swiped her thumb along your cheek, silently admiring you in all of your sensitive glory. “And we’ll see about tomorrow.”

Well. You heard the woman. And there was no need for her to tell you twice.

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Short but sweet. - Rip x

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Tags: @oddball21 @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @opalthefrog @shyladyfan @erablaise-blog @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @lex13cm @sugipla @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @eveymay @one-pining-queer @azu-zu @niceminipotato @syrenacrainn @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @scarlettssub @willisnotmental @gela123 @zillahofviolets-bayolet @the-bearr @amateurwritescm @h-doodles

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#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne of tarth x fem!reader #fem!reader #brienne got #got brienne of tarth #got brienne #wlw fanfic #wlw ns/fw fanfic #got fanfiction #wlw

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estell-allary · 3 months

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APHRODITE’S BANE

Relationship:romantic

Pairing:Clarisse La Rue x fem!aphrodite!reader

Warnings:fighting,mentions of blood,reader getting injured,swearing pls tell me if I missed any<3

A/N-this is my first time writing,also this is just a fluff about Clarisse and you loving each other AND you are like the past Aphrodite the fighter and warrior that she truly is,not this soft weakling that people preseve she is just because she is the graceful goddess of love~(it is also 00:30am and this is heavily inspired by the song Salvatore by Lana)

Shocked.That’s what you would say you (and most of camp half-blood) were when you found out that your mother-Aphrodite-claimed you,especially in the middle of capture the flag! No it’s not because you’re not pretty-hell your one of the prettiest girls in chb,but because everyone was sure you would be claimed by ares or even Athena.

Everyone had no doubts to you being one of there children because you were strong,quick witted, intelligent and understanding you also had an undying loyalty towards the ones you loved, but after you were claimed people started to relate you to your mother more-or well who your mother used to be,Aphrodite Areia.

When you were unclaimed you would hang out with the ares kids and a few other people,but there was only(not even)a hand full of people you talked to in the Aphrodite cabin-them being piper,livia,Valentina and silena

I mean you were only claimed a few weeks after you arrived at camp half-blood that being in that years game of capture the flag..that’s also when you met her.Clarisse La Rue,honestly you didn’t really think of her to be all that before the incident,sure people told you to stear clear of her because she was a bully and would not hesitate to flush your head down a toilet,but you just saw her as a normal teenager who had anger issues.

You’ve only been at camp half-blood for 3 weeks and the date of capture the flag was today,everyone has been preparing and training extra hard for a few days now and you still haven’t even found out who your godly parent is yet,tho everyone’s already assumed who they are,ares or Athena,because your a natural for sword fighting and one on one combat or because you are wise and patient-most of the time.

You were placed on the blue team with the hermes cabin until your claimed same goes with the rest of the unclaimed kids,Chiron did his speach and then the red team let out this loud monstrous war cry that made you flinch,“um Luke,is that normal”you asked in a hushed voice to the black haired boy that was standing next to you “yep,they do it every year,don’t worry you’ll get used to it”he pated you on the shoulder biding you goodbye as the blue team departed.

Stumbling through the woods trying to get to your spot was..difficult to say the least let’s just say you got lost a few times,when you finally get there you lean back against a rock,it was smooth and rough at the same time,just right.You could feel the sun levitating off of your now warm skin,this was sure to give you a light tan.

‘Catch me if you can,working on my tan Salvatore’

You heard a twig snap behind you and you quickly jumped up and grabbed your sword,turning around to see no one,“hello?..”you said confused but keeping up your fighting stance “annabeth?..Luke?” You called out knowing annabeth was close by but Luke wasn’t you were just confused…that was until you got tackled to the floor by non other then..someone? it was a boy and he smelt vile but you had no time to think about that before you panicked and slashed your sword at the side of his amour and flipped him off of you before quickly getting up and taking a step back.

He lunged up and swung at you but you quickly dodged and bolted for the woods, running,in hopes he would head for the flag instead of following you,but he didn’t..it was strange he was going after you and not the flag, “ow!shit!” You cried out as you were tackled to the floor again this time with him stabbing at your amour.

You pushed yourself backwards and kicked him in the stomach sending him back a few meters,you jumped up again and so did he this time you lunged at him stabbing at his chest but he kicked your legs out from under you and pushed you back making you fall of a small ledge and land on the small,damp rocks of the beach.

‘Dying by the hand,of a foreign man,happily’

He jumped down on to you and held his sword to your neck,he was about to open his mouth to say something but you kicked him in the shin making him fall and his sword pierce your skin,not enough to properly injure you but just enough to draw blood,he yelled out as he hit the damp rocks “ah!you bitch!”you both got up again and started clashing your swords together “why the hell are you still trying to fight me!”you grunted out.

Before he could respond you heard yelling and both the blue and red team came running out the woods the blue team with the red flag,the person holding it was annabeth but she faltered for a few seconds seeing that you were is a fight.

Then you caught her eye,for the first time you both looked at each other and gods she was gorgeous.Clarisse La Rue.

But you got distracted.“HEY!”luke yelled out as the boy stabbed with full force at your chest.

‘Calling out my name in the summer rain,ciao,amore’

You huffed out a breath,gasping for air as you grabbed the end of his sword cutting your palm and two of your fingers but kept your grip on it strong,you raised your foot and kicked the boy in the stomach making him stumble and lose his grasp on the sword.You threw the sword into the water and just as he was about to punch you,you grabbed his fist and flipped over above him landing behind him (thank god for you being able to do gymnastics)

Just as annabeth got the red flag to the post you punched him in the back making him fall on his front and he stayed down..OH GOD YOU KNOCKED HIM OUT!!

You looked up panicked and everyone was staring looking shocked at yo-..wait why were they looking above you?You looked up and gasped,

“Wha-?”

Suddenly you were tackled into a hug by silena who was laughing “oh my god” you heard annabeth say,your gaze went from Silena to Annabeth to Clarisse..she was looking at you with a puzzled expression before saying the thing that everyone was thinking, “how the fuck are you a daughter of Aphrodite?”she said your eyes grew wide before you furrowed your brows “HEY!are you calling me ugly!?”you yelled out looking offended even tho you were thinking the same thing.

“Well no bu-!”Clarisse started before she was interrupted by Chiron “Aphrodite areia..you take after your mother’s original origins from being a warrior”he said with a kind smile on his face.

“Well that’s enough for today everyone go get some rest get fixed up and carry on with your day!”Chiron declared.

A/N:sorry that there was like no Clarisse x reader in this I promise there will be way more in my next one this one was just a tester btw😃

#Spotify #lana del rey #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse la rue #pjo series #clarisse x reader #aphrodite #aphrodite!reader

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juanarc-thethird · 2 months

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Their first meeting.

Blake is fighting Eve. She's not doing very well. Eve swings her sword at Blake, knocking her off balance and falling to the ground.

Blake: Argh!

She screams in pain. Eve wastes no time and raises her sword again to attack.

Eve: You die here.

She brings her sword down at high speed, but is stopped by a blow to her side. Shooting it seven meters away from Blake. Angry, she turns to see where the blow came from, and sees a guy hiding behind a white shield with two golden moons in the center.

Eve: Who are you?!

She says as she gets back into her fighting stance. The guy lowers his shield a little, showing his face of determination and bravery.

Jaune: I'm Jaune Arc, and I won't let you hurt my friends.

He says with a serious look fit for a warrior. His hair is combed back from all the sweat, his clothes are somewhat worn and torn showing part of his well toned body, and his eyes shine like the ocean itself on a bright morning.

Eve:...

Eve just stands there without moving an inch.

Jaune continues looking at her for a few seconds and she still doesn't move. So he decides to do something.

Jaune: Hey.. Um…

Blake: *Still hurt* E-Eve.

Jaune: Thanks. Hey Eve...

Eve: Hm...

Jaune: Are we going to fight?

Eve: No, I'm bored now. Bye

She turns around and leaves.

Jaune: *Confuse* She's leaving?

Blake: It's better that way. *Cough Cough* She's too strong to face alone.

Jaune: I understand, but why did she leave just like that?

Blake: I honestly don't know.

Ten minutes after Eva and Jaune met for the first time.

Eve returns to her lair, grabs one of the laptops, and starts typing.

Click... Clack... Click... Click-Clack-Click-ClackClickClackClickClackClickClackClickClackClickClackClickClackClickClackClickClackCLICK!CLACK!CLICK!CLACK!CLICK!CLACK!

Adam: Hello sister, what are you doing- WHAT THE FUCK?!!

On the screen he could see very detailed information about a certain Jaune Arc. Like VERY detailed and private information: "Where does he lives, his mother's maiden name, his first pet, his exes, favorite food, shoe size, medical history, he's single" Follow by "How to make someone fall in love with you?, Nearby churches, Wedding dresses" and "How to make someone disappear?"

Adam: *Worry* Sister, do you remember the talk we had about the things you shouldn't do when you fall in love with someone?

Eve: Yeah, and...?

Adam: This is one of them.

Eve:...

Eve: Are you sure?

#jaune arc #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #jaune #Blake belladonna #rwby blake belladonna #blake #rwby blake #eve taurus #rwby eve taurus #rwby eve #rwby adam taurus #adam taurus #rwby adam #rwby #rwby shitpost

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akazzzaa · 5 months

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A/N- I saw this on Pinterest and thought it was so cute so I wanna try and write about child! reader x demons (platonic obvs) Credit goes to the artist @lll_123_lll

Summary- Short story for each demon interacting with a human child- Kokushibo, Akaza, Douma, Hantengu, Gyokko, Daki

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None

Kokushibo

As Kokushibo walks through a peaceful village, he notices a small child playing with a wooden sword. Intrigued by the child's innocence, he decides to approach and kneels down to the child's level. The child stopped and looked at him wide eyed, '' Are you a samurai, mister?'' Kokushibo expression softened, ''Indeed, little one.''

The child jumped up in excitement, ''Wow, Can you show me some cool moves? Pretty please!?''

For a moment, Kokushibo, contemplates the request. Surprisingly, he decides to humour the child. With grace and precision, he performs a series of fluid sword movements, creating an intricate display of swordsmanship.

The child clapped in glee, '' That was amazing! Can I try too?''Kokushibo hands the child a small, wooden practice sword, showing them a basic stance. The child mimics his movements, albeit with less finesse. ''Excellent effort, young one... With dedication, you may become a skilled warrior.''

Douma

''Why do you have fangs? Are you a scary monster?"

Douma was taken aback but then chuckled softly, amused by the innocence of the child. "These fangs are a part of what I am, I need them to eat!''

The child, not completely satisfied with the answer, pointed to Douma's mouth and said, "Can I see them up close? I want to look!!''

Douma hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to allow the child to get so close. However, he had no ill intentions and decided to humour her curiosity. With a nod, he opened his mouth wide, revealing his sharp fangs. Unfazed by the intimidating sight, The child leaned in closer to inspect the fangs. She reached out tentatively and touched one of them with her small fingers.

"They're sharp," she observed with wide-eyed wonder.

Douma, surprised by the child's boldness, couldn't help but smile. "Indeed, they are. But remember, appearances can be deceiving. It's essential to look beyond what you see on the surface."

Akaza

The moment the girl spotted Akaza, her eyes widened with excitement. She approached him fearlessly, her curiosity overcoming any apprehension she might have had. "Wow! Your hair is so pink! It's like cherry blossoms! Can I touch it?" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious.

Akaza, taken aback by the girl's boldness, hesitated for a moment. Demons were not accustomed to such innocent interactions. However, something about the child's pure fascination touched a chord within him. "Uh, well, it's not something people usually ask," he replied, unsure of how to respond to such an unusual request.

The little girl beamed, undeterred by Akaza's initial uncertainty. "Please? I promise I won't pull it or anything. I just want to feel it! It looks so soft and pretty!"

Akaza couldn't help but crack a small smile at the girl's sincerity. Slowly, he nodded, allowing her to approach. Gently, she reached out and delicately ran her fingers through the strands of his pink hair. The texture surprised her, and a giggle escaped her lips. "It's softer than I imagined! Your hair is really nice, mister demon!"

Akaza found himself chuckling. Emboldened by the positive response, the girl continued to play with Akaza's hair, creating impromptu hairstyles and sharing her infectious laughter.

Hantengu (Main body)

The child's eyes fixated on the peculiar lump on Hantengu's head. "What's that big lump on your head?" she inquired, her concern evident in her voice.

Hantengu's faces displayed a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.'' I- I dont know, I've always had it! I'm not lying this time either!''

The child, being a compassionate soul, couldn't bear to see anyone in distress. Without a second thought, she took a step forward and planted a small, innocent kiss on the lump. Hantengu's face immediately transformed into expressions of surprise and gratitude.

"There, now it's better," The child said with a smile, her eyes sparkling with kindness.

Hantengu, touched by the child's pure heart, felt a warmth spreading through his body. "Thank you, little one. You possess a kindness that is rare even among humans."

Gyokko

Gyokko observed the child doodle in the dirt with a small stick, a display of untapped creativity. Intrigued, Gyokko decided to share his passion for painting with the young artist.

Gyokko teleported beside the child. In his hands, he conjured a set of vibrant paints and brushes, as if summoning colours from the very air. The child's eyes widened in amazement as Gyokko presented the tools of creation.

"Art is like the dance of a butterfly," Gyokko spoke, his voice gentle like a breeze. "Let the colors flow, and your heart guide the brush."

Gyokko dipped his brush into a pool of blue paint and began to demonstrate fluid strokes on a blank canvas. the child, fascinated, mimicked the motions with a mixture of excitement and concentration.

Gyokko and the child painted side by side, creating a masterpiece that mirrored the beauty of their newfound friendship.

In the quiet of the night, Gyokko spoke words of encouragement to the child. "Every stroke tells a story, and every colour holds an emotion. Let your imagination soar like a bird in the sky, young one."

Under Gyokko's guidance, the child discovered not only the art of painting but also the power of expression and self-discovery.

Daki

Daki's beauty was enhanced by the intricate layers of silk, vibrant colours, and elegant accessories. She moved through the crowd gracefully, her presence drawing both admiration and whispers. Unknown to her, a wide-eyed human had been trailing behind, mesmerized by the ethereal vision.

With her innocent curiosity, tugged on the hem of Daki's exquisite kimono, her eyes filled with admiration. Daki, though known for her short temper, couldn't help but soften at the sight of the little girl.

"Wow, you look so pretty!" The child exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with wonder.

Daki turned her attention to the child, a small smile playing on her lips. "Thank you, little one. You seem to have an eye for beauty," she replied, her voice as silky as her attire.

Undeterred by the imposing aura of a demon, asked, "Can I look pretty like you too? I want to wear such beautiful clothes!"

Daki crouched down to the child eye level, her long, silky hair cascading around her. "Of course, you can, little one. Beauty is not just in the clothes we wear but in the kindness of our hearts.''

As Daki spoke, she noticed the simple charm bracelet on the child's wrist. She reached into the folds of her kimono and took a delicate flower hairpin. "Here, take this. It will make you look even more beautiful."

The child's eyes widened as she accepted the gift, a radiant smile spreading across her face. Daki, for a moment, found herself enchanted by the purity of the child's joy.

"Thank you, miss!" The child exclaimed, twirling around with newfound delight.

Daki watched as she skipped away, her heart touched by the innocence of a child who saw beyond the dangers of the world. As the festival continued, Daki couldn't help but feel a warmth in her heart, a reminder that beauty, in its truest form, transcends appearances and lies within the bonds that connect people.

A/N=Added Gyokko and Daki

#demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #douma x reader #akaza x reader #kokushibo x reader #hantengu x reader #akaza #douma #kokushibo #hantengu #gyokko #gyokko x reader #daki #daki x reader

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vivid-ink · 7 months

Text

'The Love Shack' Epilogue - Silwey's Reaction

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) Series warnings: 18+ MDNI Word count: 1,563

Read the entire completed series in my masterlist HERE

Author's Note: Because so many of you asked - here is a little epilogue drabble with Silwey's reaction to the news of Neteyam & Neyomi's betrothal. 😁 It's short and simple entertainment with a little bit of fluff at the end. I hope ya'll find this satisfying, enjoy!

***~~~***

Neteyam watched as the last of the wagons, laden with their kills, was carted off to the clan’s cooks and butchers. The hunters had triumphed again today and the butchers would be kept busy for the next day skinning, carving and preserving the meat from their very successful hunt. As with most jobs that his hunter-warrior profession demanded, success often brought with it tired and aching muscles at the day’s end, as well as skin caked in the natural grime of sweat and dirt.

Rolling his neck and stretching it from side to side, he heard the vertebrae in his neck give a few satisfying pops. His skin felt clammy and itchy from the drying mud in places and he couldn’t wait to settle into the hot spring with you later for some rest and relaxation. He caught sight of you warming down with your hunting platoon off to his left in the near distance. Your stance was confident and you effortlessly commanded the attention of your platoon while you debriefed them for the day. He smiled to himself. You were so beautiful and so capable. It made him proud to have you at his side.

As your commanding officer, he outranked you and you reported to him in all things work during the day, but at night, he was completely at your mercy. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to have your body against his, over him, under him and around him. It had been a blissful week since the night you’d confronted each other and admitted your faults, since you’d made love to each other and pledged yourselves as each other’s intendeds. The news was still formally under wraps, but the tsahìk would be making a formal announcement and performing a blessing on you both on the clan’s next day of rest, which was in two days.

Betrothal aside, you’d both agreed that things would not change work-wise. There would be no biases and there would be no public displays of affection; work was work. Given the good amount of ‘practise’ you’d both had in the last three moons in the lead up to the present, pretending there was nothing going on and ignoring the personal turmoil you’d both been stubbornly suffering, keeping things professional was a piece of cake.

A few of the men from Neteyam’s platoon yauped in farewell, waving at him as they departed for the day. One of them, Entu, called out as they passed, “It’s good to have you back, bro! The olo’eyktan really made us work for our meals the other day!”

Neteyam’s deep laugh rang out and he fixed the young warrior with a mocking grin, “Are you saying I’m too soft on all of you?”

“No, but you’re more reasonable. At least I can still feel my legs today!”

“Good work today, boys! Kìyevame (see you again soon)!” Neteyam called in return, stooping to scoop his woven satchel from the foot of the rock he’d left it against. He slung the satchel across his shoulders and spied a pair of slender feet and legs approaching him in his peripheral vision. They strolled into view as he straightened up and he was greeted by a lovely face, just not the one he expected.

“I’m glad you’re back too.” Silwey’s voice was sweet as it usually was when she wanted to endear herself to him. She flashed him an alluring smile and cocked her head to the side, peering up at him through playful eyes.

“Why? Your legs less sore today too, are they?” Neteyam remarked, adjusting the strap of his satchel across his front.

Silwey’s chuckle bubbled melodiously up her throat and her expression turned frisky, “Not sore, no. My legs are good today, good enough that they’d be keen to take a ride later if you catch my meaning.”

Oh, her meaning was clear.

The insinuation of the sensual ride she had in mind was made even more unambiguous when she reached out with a bold hand to curl her fingers into the top edge of his cummerbund to pull him closer.

Neteyam stopped her with a gentle hand around her wrist, “Look, this needs to stop-”

“I was disappointed when you didn’t come back to me the other night after your family emergency.” Silwey interrupted, stepping up to him and eyeing him coquettishly, “And then when you didn’t show up for patrol the next day, I was worried.”

“Worried for my wellbeing?” Neteyam pursed his lips, his patience beginning to wear thin as Silwey ran her other hand up the smooth muscle of one his pectorals despite his earlier attempt at a rebuff.

“Mm yes, and also worried that I wouldn’t get another taste of you.” Silwey said in a sultry purr and she swiped a daring finger against his chest before lifting it to her mouth to suck it clean.

Neteyam grasped both of her hands and removed them from his person, not unkindly but firmly enough to get his point across, “Please stop. Look, you’re a beautiful woman and I enjoyed your company, but I’m spoken for now and this behaviour needs to stop. Anything more after this and you’ll be breaking the bounds of propriety.”

Silwey retreated in surprise, pulling her hands from his hold, “Spoken for? You’re betrothed?”

“Yes.”

She gave a caustic laugh then, still reeling from her shock, “That’s a surprise, considering you were perfectly willing just last week to spend your time in my company before your brother abruptly called you away.”

Neteyam scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, trying to find a way to explain the situation without too much detail, “It’s a fairly recent development, but entirely genuine. The tsahìk will make an announcement in two days. I’d appreciate your confidentiality around the matter in the meantime.”

“Oh now Neteyam, you can’t just leave it at that.” Silwey wheedled, her irritation bleeding into her tone despite her attempt to come off as casual, “Who is this lucky woman?”

Before Neteyam could respond with another dismissive excuse, the sound of a gently cleared throat came from behind him and he turned his head to find you standing there. Meeting your eyes, he grinned warmly at you. Speak of the devil.

“Sorry Neteyam, a word?” You interposed, shooting a half-hearted smile of apology at the other woman.

Silwey was less than welcoming of your interjection. Her plump lips tightened sternly and she huffed at you, “You know, these interruptions of yours are becoming a rather untimely habit. I was having an important discussion with Neteyam.”

In truth you’d overheard the bit of their conversation prior to your interruption, but you feigned innocence nonetheless, “Oh, sorry. Was it about today’s hunt?”

Silwey’s initial expression was one of annoyance that you were nosy enough to pry, but then her countenance turned cunning and she graced Neteyam with a sly look before declaring, “No, actually. Neteyam has just shared with me his happy news of being recently betrothed. He was just about to tell me who she is.” She sneered at him, clearly thinking she was being clever for having outed his secret, “Come on, tell us. I’m sure Neyomi would like to know too.”

Ordinarily, Neteyam would have growled out a warning at Silwey’s nerve, but he simply smirked at her today.

Reaching out to lace the fingers of one of his hands with yours, Neteyam pulled you to his side and planted a lingering kiss to your temple, before responding to Silwey, “Well, since you asked, you’re looking at her.”

Silwey’s eyes darted between Neteyam and you, her large golden eyes widening a fraction as realisation set in. Her mouth popped open next and she sucked in a stunned breath, sputtering, “O-Oh! Ah, congratulations t-to you b-both. Have a good evening, I’ll see you around.”

You had to press your lips together hard to keep yourself from laughing. Silwey’s retreat was clumsy and her embarrassment was apparent. It was the most inelegant you’d ever seen her, considering she was normally incredibly self-assured.

“Guess our secret’s out.” You remarked to Neteyam, “You know, she’s not going to keep it to herself.”

“I don’t think there’s any point.” Neteyam observed.

Silwey had withdrawn hastily to a small group of warrior women who appeared to have been watching on with equally wide eyes at the entire exchange. They were muttering amongst themselves now, Silwey in the middle, with raised eyebrows and gesturing hands.

“Shall we give them a bit of a show?” You suggested puckishly, looking up at Neteyam who was already leaning down towards you.

“First, you make me commit sacrilege under my parents’ roof and now you’re breaking clan protocol before the tsahìk’s announcement.” Neteyam’s warm lips moulded to yours and you instinctively looped an arm about his neck to draw yourself closure. His tongue swept against yours and you opened your mouth to allow him to deepen the kiss, completely uncaring of your public audience. He separated from you with a sucking pop, “I wonder if my family realises how much of a rule-breaker you are.”

“Your mother broke all the rules. She became a warrior, abandoned her duty to be tsahìk and mated your father.”

Neteyam chortled at your quick quip, his quiet laughter rumbling against your lips, “And it appears I am my father’s son, with the same taste for rule-breaking warrior women.”

***~~~***

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thisblogisaboutabook · 11 days

Text

Mr. and Mrs. Shadowsinger

Azriel x Reader - Angst - Smut

His eyes are cold and restless, his wounds are almost healed, and she’d give half of Prythian just to change the way he feels. She knows his love’s in the Hewn City and she knows he’s going to go. But it’s not a female he’s leaving for, it’s his damned duty to the Night Court.

Warnings: sexual content, grinding, dom/sub dynamic, language, bondage, grinding, fingering, toxic couple, using intimacy as a form of persuasion

Her mate was strong but gods damn it, so was she. Perhaps that’s why by some cruel twist of fate, she was mated to the infamous Spymaster of Night Court. A male that could torture the secrets out of seasoned liaisons with even the highest of clearances. Nobody in Prythian was better at the game than him, and he wouldn’t allow anyone a moment to doubt it. “Cold”, “Calculating”, “Ruthless”, those that feared him would whisper.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Azriel?” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

His cold, stony gaze fixed on the door behind her as she pressed her body against it, blocking the exit.

Placing two palms to his leather covered chest, she shoved - perhaps she was the only one who didn’t fear him. In fact, she loved him and that was the fucking problem. She wished she didn’t, wished she could let his ass walk right out that front door and not give him a second glance. Instead she was so hopelessly devoted to him that she couldn’t fathom letting him go without a fight. The irony wasn’t lost on her that she needed him, like he needed to draw information from anyone he perceived as a threat to the Night Court. Those that respected him would call it honorable. She called it fucking insufferable.

To his credit, at the belligerent outburst of his mate, a slight tick of his jaw was the only sign of his irritation - a large hand raising to each of her shoulders.

“You just got back! This is fucking bullshit and you know it!” She huffed. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t let him see her weak. No, not today. Let him read the resolve in her eyes.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night.” His firm tone left no room for argument.

Too bad for him she didn’t give a damn about personal space as she made room to retaliate anyway.

“You’re not even healed! Your left wing is tattered in two places. Never mind the fact that I’ve barely seen you this past month. What the hell, Azriel? Do I not matter to you?”

His cold, restless gaze faltered for a moment. “That’s unfair, Y/N, and you know it. You matter and so does ensuring the safety of the court we live in. It’s my duty.”

She pushed a finger into his chest, emphasizing her next words. “No, Azriel, what’s unfair is the way you are walking out on me again. Fuck this court and every person in it, I only want you.” Rage seeped through her, rising to a boil beneath her heated skin. Azriel’s lips remained pressed in a firm line, a slight rustle of his wings the only show of frustration.

Lifting a scarred finger and tracing it lightly along the side of her face, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t mean that.”

Her brow creased at the implication. “I do and you know it. You are all I care about, you’re my fucking mate, not the people of this court, not the city of Velaris, YOU.”

Shaking his head, he remained calm, letting out an exhale. “We can’t keep doing this, Y/N. You’ve known my duties since well before we mated. You don’t see me complaining when you’re away on missions for the Valkyries.”

Oh- he struck a nerve with that. Bracing himself for the recoil he stood firm, crossing his arms in the warriors stance he and Cassian had both perfected over the years. With a cock of his head he continued, “Did I strike a nerve there? Let it out, Y/N. Let’s get this out of the way so you’re not stewing the entire time that I’m gone.”

“You are infuriating!” She howled, her power rolling off her skin in waves, Azriel’s shadows recoiled but he didn’t flinch. “You know why you don’t complain? Because you’re still fed, fucked, and fawned over every single night you’re home. Do I get the same treatment in return? No!”

“So that’s why you’re upset?” He challenged. “You need me to fill your pretty cunt? Is that it baby?”

He hit his mark with the statement. A rush of arousal barreling into him before she clamped down on their bond, rage again lining her sharp features. “I can get off well enough on my own, Azriel.” she spat, his name dripping off her lips with venom. He wanted to bite those lips, suck the venom coating right off of them.

He leaned in, centimeters away from her ear, running a thumb gently up and down her forearm. “You sure about that? You seem a bit-“ hazel eyes roved hungrily up and down her form, from the exposed flesh of the thighs her negligee did very little to cover, to the hint of areola peaking over the deep cut of lace trim, disheveled in her haste to catch him before he left the house. He closed the distance, his lips now caressed the shell of her ear. “-tense.”

“Fuck you.” She snarled.

“Oh, did I not make that clear enough?” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his hazel eyes boring into the depths of her own. “That’s what I’m offering.”

“You can’t fix this with fucking! I’m going to get Rhys, now. You’re not leaving. Not this time.” She stormed to their bedroom, the curve of her ass teasing him as he followed her through the house. Throwing open the armoire door she grabbed a silk t-shirt and leggings, hurriedly putting them on over her slip. Azriel’s tall form leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, watching his angry little mate with a smirk.

“I’m not fucking joking.” She scowled. “I don’t give a shit that he’s your High Lord. You’re MY mate first. Or did you forget that?” She marched toward the doorway shifting to slide past his towering frame. Just as she thought he’d let her past he flung out an arm. “How could I forget, my love? Your fiery rage is the soothing balm warming my own forged of ice.”

She hissed as she barreled into his arm, no match against the 500 years of hard-earned, corded muscle beneath. “No you don’t.” He hauled her over his right shoulder as she kicked and beat her clenched fists against the defined muscles of his back. “Put me down!”

He smiled to himself with satisfaction at the fact that though his mate was livid as all hel with him, she still was careful to throw those fists away from the sensitive membranes of his wings.

Reaching the edge of their oversized bed and much to her dismay, Azriel cradled one hand to the nape of her neck, and looped the opposite arm beneath her ass, dropping her onto the bed, his shadows darting out to restrain her.

“This isn’t going to work!” She yelped.

He hummed, a look of pure male arrogance crossing his gorgeous features. Leaning over the edge of the bed, he braced his weight on his left arm, tracing a calloused finger down the valley between her breasts. “Is that why the sweet aroma of your need is filling every inch of this room?”

Gritting her teeth, she fought the shadows pinning her to their bed.

She loved this and he knew it. His mate was wild, untamed, only yielding within the safety of their bedroom walls.

He placed a knee between her thighs, spreading them, and placing just enough pressure against her core to earn a whimper at the friction.

“Tell me what you need, Y/N.” he demanded.

The female shook her head.

“I may be a patient male, love, but I don’t have time to wait for you. Going to need you to use your words.”

She only scowled at him and he didn’t miss the way she almost imperceptibly arched her back, raising her chest, pebbled nipples peaking from beneath her silken shirt.

“Very well.” He tsk’d, turning his back, wings flaring slightly to remind her of just how accurate the rumors about wingspan were.

He stepped outside the door frame, turning the corner when a pitiful “Wait.” came from their room.

Her scent flowed to him from their room, his cock jerking at the win, at the fact that her submission and desire for him was so evident. He waited a moment. Oh yes, he was going to make her wait for this. Spymaster duties could hold off long enough to punish his girl for her outburst, in all the ways she loved to be reprimanded. She needed the attention and her behavior was a clear sign of it.

So he sauntered back into their room, oozing with confidence as he took in the sight of his mate, defenseless in her binded state.

“Can you be good for me, baby?” He asked in a condescending manner.

She nodded her head, apology dancing in her eyes.

“Promise me, baby.” He teased. “Show me just how good you can be.”

“Yes, sir.” She spoke submissively.

Pride sparked in his chest at her changed behavior. Releasing his shadows, he looked to her with faux empathy in his eyes, seating himself at the edge of the bed. “Strip.”

She did as he requested with no argument.

“Good girl.” He cooed, patting his thigh. “Now c’mere”

He took in every inch of exposed skin as she strode toward him, avoiding eye contact in a show of deference. Very well, the subtle bounce breasts with each step was captivating his attention anyway.

His submissive girl was so fucking good for him.

She spread her legs, straddling his thigh, dropping her weight down onto it, waiting patiently for his next command.

Looking into her eyes, he whispered in a low voice that sent chills through her, his palm cupping her jaw, thumb running across her lower lip. “You’re so delicious, you know? Those pretty lips make me want to devour them until they’re puffy and red.”

He was setting the bait. The next sentence determining whether she’d be rewarded or not based on her response. “But, unforunately” Azriel let out an exasperated sigh, “I don’t have all day. Our court needs me.”

He caught the flash of violence in her eyes, the rage warring within them. But to his surprise, she didn’t react. Not one single word of resistance falling from that pretty mouth.

He placed a hand on either side of her hip, situating her center over the seam of his leathers. “I know you didn’t like that, sweet girl. But look at you, you’re being so good for me right now. You’re learning.”

She smiled coyly at the praise, biting her lip and looking up to him with fluttering eyelashes.

“You can move now, baby. Take your pleasure.”

So she did, finding that perfect angle and rhythm to bring the friction she so desperately needed to her aching core.

Her body began to tense, little moans and whimpers spilling from her lips, brows furrowing as she focused on her pleasure. “Azzie.” She whispered innocently. “Please, may I come?”

He brought a scarred hand to the back of her head. “Such good manners, baby. So proud of you.”

She beamed at the praise.

“Yes, my good girl. You may.”

A whimper fell from her lips as his thumb found the sensitive bud of her clit, moving it in those rhythms he’d long ago perfected, bringing her to the edge in no time.

She cried out his name through shattered moans, her head falling to the crook of his neck, breasts heaving against him. When her panting settled, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Opening his mouth to accept her gratitude, he was taken back by something pulling at his wrists, ankles following suit.

His mate hopped off of him, heading to the closet. “What the hell?” Azriel shouted.

“Some Spymaster you are.” She chided, eyes rolling with contempt. “When would I ever submit so easily? Think with your other head next time, Az.”

Throwing on a set of leathers that typically would have had his cock at full attention by the way they hugged her like a second layer of skin, she flashed him a vulgar gesture and left the room, leaving him pinned to their four-poster bed by his own damned shadows.

He fought against the binds but the traitorous things were having none of it.

“Y/N! Come back!” He yelled but the only response was the slamming of the front door echoing down the hall.

——————————

Hours later a disheveled Shadowsinger found himself in the Hewn City. After much convincing his shadows had finally let him free of their restraint when he promised the lecherous things their share of playtime with their favorite little mate - their mate who was absolutely going to be punished later.

He was fuming, embarrassment weighing heavily upon him like an anchor. He almost felt bad for the subject Rhys has sent him to elicit information from today. They expected it would take at least a day, if not two to work on this one. Azriel guessed a day based on the less-than-generous mood he was in.

His heavy footsteps echoed off the walls of the Hewn City dungeons as he neared the cell of his subject, shadows promising violence, an obvious attempt to win back his affections after their betrayal.

Azriel gaped as he rounded the corner to find his leather clad mate sitting in a chair outside the cell, seated in a relaxed show of dominance with one leg crossed over the other, irreverently picking at her cuticles with fucking Truth-Teller.

“What the hell?” He fumed at his mate. “Where is the prisoner?”

“Oh, him?” She flashed a wicked grin.

“He’s gone. I got the information Rhys needed.”

His brows furrowed with disbelief. There was no way. It had only been a couple of hours. “How?”

She stood, swishing her hips as she sauntered toward him, brushing her chest against his. “I have my ways. Certainly you would know that.” She flicked her gaze to his swirling shadows who quickly hid in shame. “Your shadows surely do.”

Gripping him by the front of his leathers, she pulled him into a kiss, claiming his mouth with her own. The Shadowsinger too dumbfounded to argue.

“C’mon Shadowsinger.” She quirked an eyebrow, as she looked into his eyes with challenge. “You’re mine. Now, let’s go home.”

—————————————-

A/N: you get extra credit if you know where the summary for this story came from.

General tags: @lilah-asteria

#acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger #Azriel smut #azriel one shot #Azriel’s mate #azriel spymaster #spymaster

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harmonysanreads · 9 months

Note

SUMERU LOVE HEXAGON THOUGHT: what If the boys found the reader singing? How would they react when they hear readers angelic voice??

As you might've already predicted, Wanderer has had that privilege more than anyone due to proximity. In the early days of you taking him under your care, you hummed and lulled him back to sleep after another night of nightmares. Your approach surprised him significantly, as his own creator had been perplexed by a puppet displaying emotions. But not that he minded, in fact, it'd only made him cling harder. He knows you have a habit of singing while cooking or any time you daydream. His favorite are the Inazuman tunes you learned through your travels, the sentiments they bring him now are admittedly angst ; but when through your voice, it's somewhat peaceful... nostalgic he daresay.

You'd thought Alhaitham wasn't listening because of his headphones and the accompanying book, the tavern was empty for once and the day had been nice. You'd almost pranced around singing to your heart's content that night and the Scribe had never listened more attentively in his life. Under the pretense of your own assumption, Alhaitham has heard you sing more than once. He thought about mentioning it one time as well, but refrained when he noticed why you sang. Alhaitham knows how to appreciate good music and he has no problem doing so silently. Yes, it's just well-natured appreciation even if he keeps a recorded version as supplement for the live.

There was once a time where Collei fell ill and you offered to take care of her while Tighnari attended to an emergency in the Avidya Forest. When he returned, he found Collei peacefully asleep with you by her side, humming a foreign tune. His original intention was to watch from the corner, but his sensitive ears and tail quickly gave him away. It seemed that he was more embarrassed at the prospect of getting caught eavesdropping, after all, he wouldn't want you to think of him as some sort of a weirdo. But thankfully, you didn't linger on the topic. He almost wanted to thank Collei for creating that opportunity but for that instance, he'd settled for complimenting your voice. One day, maybe one day, he'll gather the courage to ask you to sing for him.

The times a warrior truly feels at peace are few and far between, especially for one as uncompromising as Cyno. There are only a handful of things the General Mahamatra indulges in, your presence settling itself on that list day by day. While Cyno is relatively nonchalant towards the arts, even he can tell when something is truly remarkable. And when such an occurrence presents itself, he finds no reason to not let his appreciation be known. His blunt ‘you should sing more’ appeared to have flustered you to a degree he hadn't expected though. He remains firm in his stance, not understanding why you quickly fled the scene. As much as he doesn't get the reasoning behind your behavior, this chain of events only make him vow to himself that you'd never stop singing.

With each passing day, Kaveh wonders if you could be any less perfect. Just when he thinks he's seen it all or has gotten a grasp of the enigma that is you, you just throw the most delightful surprises his way. Kaveh knows of and appreciates your appreciation of the arts. But even the simplest practices seem to be amplified in their charm when done by you, cliché, but he couldn't care less. When intoxication occurs to the Architect, he usually feels more confident. But before you, even wine loses its lustre. With each new discovery, half of Kaveh falls even further and the other half curls in itself from insecurity. He doesn't deserve you, the Architect tells himself. Yet he cannot bring himself to let go, or stay away as your voice rings through his ears. You're perfect, to Kaveh at the very least but he couldn't help but dream how much more perfect it'd be if you sang only for him.

[ au masterlist ]

#sumeru love hexagon #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin imagines #yandere wanderer x reader #wanderer x reader #yandere alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #yandere tighnari x reader #tighnari x reader #yandere cyno x reader #yandere kaveh x reader #kaveh x reader #cyno x reader #scaramouche x reader

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sweetercalypso · 6 months

Text

Pearl Rosary || Din Djarin

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Priest of Mandalore!Din Djarin listens to your sins during confession

Notes: part three in my week of horror series! minors dni; public(ish) sex, finger sucking, deepthroating, cock worship, facial, reader is a Mandalorian who takes her helmet off, so much religious imagery

In the Cathedral of Mandalore, there’s only just enough light to make out the back of the wooden pew in front of you. The doors and windows are adorned with an ornate red glass that wash the chapel in a somber crimson gloom, a reminder that only those dedicated to their creedal faith are permitted inside.

The nave is silent beyond the occasional clink of beskar and the solemn bells ringing overhead in hourly intervals. You’d counted three resounding chimes, then four, then five, as the day stretches on outside the walls of the chapel.

In your tightly coiled spiral of pensive rumination, time seems to stand still.

Your eyes snap up as another Mandalorian passes by your aisle in their departure from the confessional. The small curtained booth at the front of the church has a strangely foreboding presence, and you’d been working up the courage to step inside all day.

The front doors close, and you’re left with your guilt once again.

If you admit to the thoughts weighing on your conscience, maybe you’ll have the chance to repent. Or, if the pit of dread in your stomach is any prediction, you’ll be cast out for your inclination towards a life of sin.

Before you can work up the nerve to decide whether to gamble your fate, the head of the church, Din Djarin, steps out of the other side of the confessional, rolling his shoulders to relieve the stiff ache of being confined in his narrow compartment.

His armor has grown dull with age and wear, buffed with a flat luster that speaks of its obstinate strength.

Others have said that his appearance makes him seem ordinary, but you’ve always thought that his mannerisms were what set him apart. His imposing stance, his commanding way of speaking, the way his head tilts when he’s deep in thought – he’s beautiful if you know where to look.

When he turns in your direction, your breath catches in your throat.

“You’ve been here for quite a while.” His voice has an unexpected warmth that licks up your spine. “Are you here to speak with me?”

Your eyes flicker warily to the confession booth. “I’m not sure.”

He seems to pause for a moment before making his mind up to join you, floorboards groaning under his heavy boots as he draws near. You shift uncomfortably on the hard bench, squirming under the spotlight of his attention. He stops at the end of your row and rests a hand behind you on the back of the pew.

“We can speak out here if you’d prefer.”

You’re surprised that he’d recognized the source of your unease, though you’re not sure if he realizes why the embrace of the confessional is so distinctly unnerving.

The people of Mandalore are not known for their empathy, especially not those held in high regard by the church. Din Djarin is a fiercely orthodox man, and you doubt he understands the position you’re in.

“I’ve seen you during services,” he comments. “Always so attentive.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at the thought of being recognized in the mass of devoted warriors that frequent his sermons. Is your shame so pronounced that you stand out in a crowd? “I didn’t know you paid attention to the assembly.”

He hums in response. “I care deeply for everyone in my congregation, especially those who are in danger of losing their faith. Tell me, what’s been troubling you?”

You hesitate before answering, skirting around the truth as much as you can, as much as he’ll let you.

“I’ve had… impure thoughts, father.”

“Oh?” His voice is rich with interest. “Indulge me, cyar'ika. What tempts you?”

His smooth, full baritone makes it impossible to deny his entreaty, like he’s wrenching your secrets from the far reaches of your mind.

“I’ve thought about… taking my helmet off in the witness of non-believers. I’ve thought about what you look like underneath your armor.” You pause for breath. “I’ve thought about your image at improper times.”

His chest falls with a heady sigh, though the sound is lost beyond the rasp of his modulator. “I see. And how do you think you should pay for your transgressions?”

The presence of other Mandalorians can be heard from outside the chapel – an admonition of what you have to lose if you are turned away. The air in the room shifts. Your hands flex at your sides.

“I’ll do anything.” You push forward onto the edge of your seat, ardently pleading for your chance at repentance. “Tell me how to make things right.”

He shifts in place, mulling over his options for what feels like an eternity. You swallow the urge to scream as silence rings in your ears.

Finally, he speaks.

“Maybe you’re too curious,” he decides. “Too concerned with things you cannot have.”

Your fingers dig into your palms, awaiting the final blow of his judgement.

“I think you need to experience firsthand the gravity of your desire.”

He leans down like he’s sharing something that no one else can hear, a sentiment too clandestine to be born in a house of worship.

“This is a sacred place,” he explains. “If you’re going to commit an act of sin, let it be here.”

You’re taken aback by the implication of his words. You’d been expecting a show of indignation, maybe even outrage for your betrayal of the Way, but it seems like he’s encouraging your lapse in faith. Surely, you’ve misunderstood.

The hand caressing your shoulder tells you that you haven’t.

“Revealing yourself to anyone a sin, and the public would have you exiled for removing your helmet. But here, in the presence of a higher being, I will make an exception.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before his hands are on the underside of your helmet, tipping your head back with the force of his grip. The fabric of his gloves glides against your jaw as he lifts your beskar veil and exposes you under the chapel’s dim, ruddy glow.

You squint at the sudden shift in the light, surprised to discover what your dark-tinted visor had been hiding from you. The red halo cast around him is much more intense without the obstruction of your helmet. His outlined form burns with a fiery sanctitude that makes you shudder.

Your attention is drawn to his hands ghosting over your face, cradling your cheeks with a curious touch. The pad of his thumb presses against your mouth, tugging at the plush of your bottom lip. “Is this what you wanted?”

You swallow thickly and chance a look up at him, finding your face in the reflection of his visage. Your lips part in fascination at the sight of your own eyes staring back at you.

“That’s it, open up for me.”

His thumb presses further into your mouth and hooks behind your teeth. The taste of the holy chrism melts across your senses, balsam and olive oil and something you can’t name. When your tongue swipes out to meet his digit, he hums low in his chest and pulls his other hand back to curl around his belt.

“Does this make you feel good? Corrupting a man of faith?”

You whimper around his thumb, eyes blown wide with lust. The metal buckle at his waist glints in the low light, seemingly pleading for your touch. You don’t know how far he’ll take this lesson, but you’re hoping it ends in a mutual exchange of sin.

As if persuaded by your thoughts alone, he works open his belt and the fastenings of his pants, revealing a patch of tawny skin that contrasts the muted tones of his beskar.

“You need more than this, though. Don’t you?”

With a low hiss, he pulls his hardening cock from its confines, and your mouth waters at the sight. He’s eager, alive, twitching in his tight grip. The tip of his cock weeps as he bucks into his hand.

The heat simmering in your belly has grown into a blazing flame. When he swaps his thumb for the head of his cock, your thighs clench with the urgent need to consume him in every way.

His warm, salty taste is so human, so unlike the righteous figure he’s made out to be. You can almost picture what the rest of him looks like by the glimpse of what he’s offered you.

Your lips wrap coyly around his length, an earnest appeal for his approval.

The tint of his visor hides his eyes, but you gaze up at him anyway in hopes that he meets you halfway, that he commits the image of your debauched affair to memory.

“C’mon, this is your chance to atone.”

You trace the vein on the underside of his cock, tongue laving over him in search of a reaction, in search of redemption through your greedy act of worship. His hips stutter in response and the head of his cock twitches against the roof of your mouth.

He mumbles something akin to prayer and focuses his efforts, sliding further into your mouth until your nose presses against his pelvis and his cock settles in the back of your throat. You gag at the foreign pressure and try to pull away, but he settles a hand on the nape of your neck to hold you in place.

“That’s it, take it all.”

His thrusts are slow, lazy, careful not to overwhelm you. When he moves, it’s a gentle drag over your tongue, not the heedless intrusion you’d expected from him. He bucks his hips like he wants to know you’re enjoying it too.

“Fuck,” he grunts, chin dropped to his chest. “Your filthy mouth was made for this.”

You wish you could see him without the beskar disguising his reaction. The heave of his chest, the flex of his hands, the jump of his cock when you tongue the right spot – his body is so expressive, you have no doubt that his face would be too.

A few more juts of his hips and he’s pulling out of your mouth and forming a fist around his length, flushed skin glistening with your spit.

He chokes out a broken noise and angles his hips towards you, painting the evidence of your transgressions over your cheeks and your lips.

You touch your fingers to your face when he pulls away, eyeing his handiwork with a sound of approval. This part of yourself, it’s his now. Desecrated for the use of someone more sacred than yourself.

The corners of your mouth stretch into a grin. This is exactly the forgiveness you were looking for.

#sweetercalypso’s week of horror #Din Djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin one shot #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian fic #din x reader #Star Wars #star wars x reader #star wars smut #priest!din #priest!din Djarin

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aonungsmate · 1 year

Text

A Promise Over All Else

Ao'nung x Reader [Word count: 5.8k]

All characters are aged-up to 18!! (okay not all, but-)

Warnings: Ao’nung being a jerk, mentions of death, bullying, smooching

“If we do not find someone worthy of being our mates, we’ll mate each other,” Ao’nung scoffed as you muttered a promise, seemingly frustrated by the idea of being one with you. An innocent declaration that none of the two of you expected to be rekindled in due time.

You have known the children of the Metkayina clan’s olo'eyktan and tsahik for as long as you can remember, being in close age with the two. The idea of being playmates struck your parents after seeing the two of you, along with Tsireya and Rotxo. The two of you were inseparable as young na’vi, having learned to breathe, swim, weave and heal collectively, and however intolerable the idea is to you right now, it has always been you and Ao’nung who get paired up with each other in various chores. As you grew up however, Ao’nung’s attitude towards your peers have also gone into a drastic change, as if he was above everyone, developing a penchant for sneering at every na’vi that approaches the two of you. You, on the other hand, thought of every na’vi you interact with as equals, being of no noble position as him. This very reason caused a rift between your companionship, forming your respective circles, frequent greetings turning into brief glances and side eyes, only communicating when training or when you are tasked with healing him. However, you understood the growing distance between the two of you, as you had different interests and responsibilities. The arrival of Jake Sully and his family was the one responsible for both rekindling and downfall of your relationship. An unwanted occurrence by most of the village percentile although your life would not be the same if it were not for them.

It was a bright day when the former olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya tribe had sought sanctuary in Awa’atlu. You and Tsireya were tasked with weaving nets when a ginormous silhouette of flying creatures flew over you, earning a worried glance from Tsireya. Your heart sped up at the thought of sky people discovering an obsession towards your village, you immediately clicked your tongue and called for your ilu, Or’ma. Cautious at the arrival of the ikrans, you dove with your ilu to approach the shores, noticing other villagers approach the forest na’vi, some hissing with threat. Peering from the waters, you spotted familiar faces, deciding to detach yourself from the ilu and see what the commotion is all about. A bunch of tsurak accompanied by warriors resurfaced from the waters, that flew above the people, signaling that the olo’eyktan had arrived to take care of the matters. Gulping at the building anxiety, you looked for immediate safety, finding Ao’nung’s wary stance, stalking behind the ikran, searching for any danger. Having a glance around you once more, you gave up finding your parents and ran towards Ao’nung, gripping his left arm for protection.

Landing on the sand, the new faces earned hisses from all around them, causing the tallest figure to raise his hands as if he was surrendering, followed by his family. You peeked a glance at the ikran, gasping in amazement at their strong wings, wincing in fright when you met a particular na’vi’s eyes, ducking your head behind Ao’nung’s larger frame, forcing him to shield you with the arm you were gripping, puffing his chest with a threatening gaze at the eldest son of Jake Sully. Rotxo snickered at the size of their tails, “It is too small, how are they supposed to swim?”, he laughed, earning a chuckle from Ao’nung and a swat on the hand from Tsireya. “Do not. Rotxo, Ao’nung” she scolded, her eyes widening as a warning. Your furrowed eyebrows did not help the smile of reassurance directed to your friend. A glare from one of the Omatikayan siblings made you more nervous, squeezing Ao’nung’s arm as your ears flattened down in panic.

As far as you know, you did not do anything to anger the female na’vi, so why was she rolling her eyes at you?

“Mawey, (y/n), mawey,” Ao’nung whispered, backing up when his father walked to the center of the crowd to address the problem at hand. You frowned at the words being exchanged, realizing how crucial it must be for their family to be let in, as they were in need of hiding from the sky people. Asking for uturu is no childsplay, considering that it is still the village leaders’ decision if they would be letting in those who asked for sanctuary.

Ronal went through them one by one, analyzing what use they could be of in the reef, having no physical trait to aid them in swimming. Hisses were let out when she raised one of the na’vi’s hands, having an extra finger to it, a sign that they have demon blood flowing in them.

“They are not even real na’vi!” she exclaimed, holding up the girl’s hands, one extra finger on display.

The girl whom you found glaring at you refuted, “Yes, we are!” You winced at the confused dread you sensed in her voice, finding it in yourself to sympathize with her. Being close to the chief’s children meant that you hang out with either or both of them often. You were witness to Ao’nung’s condescending demeanor, and have made aware of how painful his words are. Something that he must have inherited from his mother, Ronal.

Countless thoughts filled your mind, only subsiding when you heard Tonowari’s decision, “Toruk Makto, and his family will stay with us,” the faces of the forest na’vi lightened up, “Treat them as our brothers and sisters. They do not know the sea, so they will be like babies taking their first breath.” The mate of Jake Sully turned her gaze away, offended at the statement. “Teach them our way so they do not suffer the shame of being useless,” Tonowari emphasized, turning his attention again to Jake Sully, nodding at the family.

“Alright, what do we say?” He urged, thank you’s being muttered by the rest of his family.

“My son Ao’nung, our daughter Tsireya, will show your children what to do,” a grimace morphing in Ao’nung’s face, whilst the complete opposite reaction was written on Tsireya’s. She beamed at the family, and her brother sought an escape from unwanted duties.

“Father why–”

“It has been decided”

It has been decided.

It wasn’t too long until you had to interact with the new faces, having been invited by Tsireya to dive with them, along with Rotxo and of course, Ao’nung. You warily distanced yourself from the navy blue na’vi, sticking close to Ao’nung, since Tsireya was enthusiastic with her newly acquired duties. You waved at Tuktirey, or Tuk, as what she asked you to call her. You found her adorable, having no siblings of your own. You swam closely to the reef, glancing behind you to ensure that they were following you, when you saw them swim upwards, Rotxo looking at them with disbelief, and Ao’nung signing that they were bad divers.

‘Stop, they only need to learn,’ Tsireya signed, with you nodding in agreement, swimming upwards to follow the Sully children and encourage them to swim more. You were eager to show them the beauty of the reef, determined to get to know them better. Lo’ak stuck his face into the water, finding Tsireya’s smiling face, signaling them to swim together, as he responded with gibberish signs, having no idea how to respond. This coaxed a shy smile from you, continuing to swim upwards along with the other metkayina.

“You swim too fast! Wait for us,” Tuk whined, making you chuckle at her adorableness.

“You are not good divers, maybe swinging through trees but–” Ao’nung’s tasteless humor earned a smack on the head from his sister, fed up with unsolicited criticisms. “C’mon bro–” “We do not understand this finger talk you were doing,” Neteyam tried copying what you were doing, making Rotxo grin and Ao’nung laughed at their cluelessness.

“I will teach you,” Tsireya volunteered, and suddenly included you in her future responsibilities, “(y/n) and I will do. Ao’nung and Rotxo can help us with your breathing.”

“Wait, where’s Kiri?” Rotxo’s face twisted in worry, the whole group asking each other where she was, not noticing that the eldest daughter of the Sully’s had disconnected from the lot.

As soon as you realized where she was, you regrouped again and were told to follow Ao’nung towards the shore. He stood a meter away from the group, producing clicks and noises to call a group of ilu. Waist deep in the water, he glanced at each of you, “If you want to live here, you have to ride.”

His arms gestured at the ilu’s surrounding him, nodding at the siblings, encouraging them to approach the creatures and familiarize themselves. Your eyes gleamed at how commanding his voice was, as if the whole ocean was sitting on his palm, an attribute that seemed to be innate in the future olo’eyktan of your clan. One by one, they tried their hand at riding an ilu, Lo’ak’s attempt being the most memorable after being thrown off its back at his recklessness.

The training went on and on for weeks, with you assisting Kiri, who was surprisingly a natural when it came to the ilu, having found her underwater interacting with one, which amazed you so much she was shocked to see your beaming face at her after resurfacing with an ilu.

As the eclipse approached, so did the end of your daily meetings. The beautiful shades of auburn purple shone on the archipelagic glory of Awa’atlu, indicating the end of the day. Soon after dismissing the group, Tsireya bid you farewell, whispering that she wanted to have a few moments Lo’ak, making the two of you giggle at the thought of potentially finding someone she wants to spend her life with. Your simpering caught Ao’nung’s attention, raising his brow at what could possibly be funny that you and his sister are looking at the rest of the boys coyly. Supporting her idea after knowing that the Sully mean no harm and are actually just a family, you waved at her, tugging Ao’nung’s arm to the direction of the village knowing his tendencies to be protective over his sister.

“What were the two of you talking about?” he asked, adjusting your headpiece, seeing how disheveled your hair looked. You brushed off a sand on your arm, “Oh you know, there’s this boy,” you giggled, remembering Tsireya’s blushing face,” ‘Reya really likes the forest boy.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I’m very happy for her. Finding someone she likes and all…” A small whisper from your lips following, “How wonderful it would be if I too..”

You sighed dreamily, reminiscing about your encounters with peers, frowning at the lack of finding someone that stood out from all of your options, having no recollection of successful romantic encounters. Your sigh did not go unnoticed by your companion, receiving a questioning gaze from Ao’nung. He stopped walking and asked, “What, you want a mate all of the sudden?”

You breathed, the smell of the ocean embracing you, “I am simply pondering my options, Ao’nung. My rite of passage is not far, and it is of common knowledge that it is only a matter of time until all the commendable bachelors in our village become betrothed” he scoffed at this, his tail flicking in annoyance at the thought of you getting a mate.

“I do not want to grow old all alone. I would want a family for myself, you know that.” Approaching the direction of your marui, you smiled at him moving your hands to sign him farewell. As you were helping your mother prepare dinner, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the times when another guy your age would approach you with the most intricate shells in hand.

You have just turned 14 when a boy of your age approached you with a carefully woven bracelet. It was typical of you to spend the day with Tsireya, however due to her duties as the tsahik’s daughter, she has asked you to pair up with her brother for the day. Not minding the company, Ao’nung took you to a spot he and his friends frequented. You were humming a song to motivate you while searching for shells to give to your dearest friend when a familiar face started to walk towards you. Ao’nung squinted in curiosity when he noticed Keomä approach your spot. Keomä is usually assigned with fishing out nets before the eclipse, often swooned at by girls due to his dimpled grins. The village is not a vast place so the two of you have already been acquainted with each other.

‘What could be that bastard’s business?’ he thought, his carving halted in contemplation. Rotxo stared at him in suspicion when he suddenly stopped sharpening the bone. Meeting his friend’s gaze, he huffed and continued his task with a newfound aggressive vigor. Shrugging at his strange action, Rotxo went back to polishing his dagger.

Ao’nung was seething as soon as his eyes spotted the bracelet that was not-so-subtly held behind Keomä as an attempt to surprise you. His enraged mind was prompted to come up with unprecedented schemes to ruin the other metkayina’s chances with you. As soon as you lifted your head to meet Keomä’s smile with yours, he flouted as he finally decided on what to do.

“Keomä, have you just finished fetching dinner for the village?” you put down your collection, politely nodding at him. “Yes, it is another bountiful day,” he stiffly responded, making your head tilt as if to ask what was going on. Resolved to fulfill what his heart desired, he immediately spouted words of confession before his mouth betrayed him.

“You are the most beautiful person that I have ever laid my eyes on (y/n). Your melodic voice never fails to complete my day,” he started, making your cheeks flush in appreciation at his kind words. “I am to participate in my rites of passage in a few months. If you would..” “If your heart is to say yes,” he cleared his throat to continue, “With this crafted bracelet, I would like to ask you for permission to stake a claim on–”

Unfortunately for him, Ao’nung is not one to give openings for other metkayina. He had his heart spoken for since you were of young age, and he would not let you find a man other than him. He stood up from his sitting position with a smirk, prancing slowly towards the two of you.

“Ah, Keomä. Were you not reprimanded by Zoaiäl for your irresponsible decisions yesterday?” Ao’nung towered over the both of you, and to add salt to the wound, “The offense you have induced on yourself could lengthen the stretch before you are allowed to take part in the ceremony for adulthood, you are aware aren’t you?”

“T-that–”

“Frankly, I do not see the significance in asking her for her hand if you are only going to make her wait for your incompetent self,” his arms extended in a haughty stance, his tail jerking with a snap with threat, “Best to get going to aid your ineptness, Keomä.” His voice deepened to emphasize his point, making the poor boy shiver.

Just as your suitor stomped in anger, Ao’nung shook his head at Keomä’s pathetic attempt. Meanwhile, you were disappointed at the interrupted confession, making you glare at your companion. Ao’nung could only raise his hands with a satisfied smirk all written on his face. You went back to your prior activity with a sunken expression and ears down, making him contemplate if you liked Keomä enough to induce despondency from you.

You are not as skillful as Tsireya in healing, nor as good as Noìukä in hunting. Your modesty however, is of notable charm for most people in your village. This led to not two, but more than four suitors in a span of seven months just after the first efforts to capture your heart.

How wonderful! Not.

Ao’nung’s annoying interruptions continued on as more young metkayina tried their hand in asking you, finding it increasingly difficult to penetrate the barricades that your childhood friend had established. He was acting like a possessive mate at that point. That’s right, a mate–

That particular speculation immediately pulled you from the barrage of memories you were just recollecting. Your eyes widened at the thought of Ao’nung holding romantic affections for you. You have never considered him to be someone who would develop feelings for you.

Not that you know of.

Set on shrugging this particular idea off of your mind, you finished cleaning up with your mother and informed her that you were turning in for the night, making her meet your forehead with hers in good night, receiving another from your father with a promise from your parents that they will be joining you in bed later. You tucked yourself in your family’s mat with a strange feeling in your stomach, making it difficult to fall asleep. Instantly after a few minutes, you were off to sleep with a particular boy in your dreams.

Months have passed since the arrival of the Omatikaya na’vi and you have grown close with the siblings, which is quite the contrary in Ao’nung’s case, growing some kind of disdain for them, calling them names and sneering at them for their differences.

It has become unbearable, really.

As you grew close to the siblings, you have also gotten to know their mother, Neytiri, and the Toruk Makto, Jake Sully. You looked up to the both of them, having been told the stories of how they fought the sky people with victory. You often found yourself dining with them in their marui at some nights. The cherry on top however, was the friendship that you have found in Neteyam. He is someone that you look up to, treating him as a brother and him, treating you as one of his sisters. You have invited him and his siblings to one of your dinners, your mother and father appreciating their presence as they have finally had a chance to take a closer look at the infamous family.

“So, do you like it here so far Neteyam?” your hands untangled themselves from the net, gesturing for him to try continuing the work himself.

“It is different from the forest,” he reached out for the strands, “there is also difficulty in connecting with other na’vi, but the island is wonderful.”

You were assisting Neteyam with weaving a net when Kiri’s voice caught your attention. “Leave us alone!”, followed by a series of laughter. You frowned when you saw Ao’nung’s peers around her and Lo’ak. Hearing a hiss from Neteyam, you casted a worried glance at him when he stood up stomping towards his siblings. You pressed your lips together and stood up to follow him, your ears flicking in alarm when he shoved Ao’nung away, “You heard what she said. Leave them alone.” He huffed with his tail flicking with a rigid threat, “Smart choice, and from now on, I need you to respect my sister.”

You grimaced at Ao’nung’s lack of apology when he simply raised his hands in mock surrender, obviously not taking Neteyam’s words seriously; followed suit by his friend who hissed at Neteyam from being told off. Neteyam goaded his sister gently to the direction of the village marui with Lo’ak following, when Ao’nung voiced out another jibe.

“Buh-bye~” One of his friends waved goodbye with a singsong voice.

“They’re all freaks. The whole family,” he slyly whispered loudly, purposely making the siblings hear. You frowned when Lo’ak stopped walking, only to turn back and approach Ao’nung with anger clearly visible from his eyes.

“Lo’ak.”

“I got this bro,” Lo’ak responded to his older brother calling his name in warning. Facing Ao’nung, he raised his left hand, “I know this hand is funny. Look, I’m a freak, it’s alien” he waved his pinky, making the group snicker at the ‘weird’ display. “But it can do something really cool, watch.” He slowly started to close his hand to form a fist, ”First I ball it up real tight like this, ‘kay? Then,” his balled up first met Ao’nung’s cheek, catching him off guard to pause for a few seconds at what had just occurred.

“It’s called a punch, bitch. Never touch my sister again,” he raised a finger in threat, only to be greeted with hisses and a tackle. Your eyes met Neteyam and Kiri’s, only to gasp when Neteyam shook his head and joined in.

“Oh dear,” you hissed when two of them pulled on Lo’ak’s tail, Ao’nung being the main instigator of the action. “This is stupid!” Kiri facepalmed in embarrassment, only to chortle at the childishness of the boys, making you follow her example as you bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing out loud at how silly they all looked. It was not long before one of the villagers spotted the lot of you and helped stop the boys from worsening their injuries.

As soon as the fight is broken off, Neteyam and Lo’ak were dragged by their necks by Jake Sully himself, meanwhile Ao’nung successfully evaded his mother by calling an ilu together with his friends.

The eclipse had already begun when you went back to your home in order to assist your mother, spending time telling her of what had just occurred between your friends when an alarm resonated to gather the villagers. As soon as you were in the emergency gathering, you spotted Ao’nung being interrogated by his own parents and Jake Sully, along with a livid Neytiri, clutching Tuk’s hand.

“What’s going on, ‘Reya?” you inquired, spotting your friend behind her parents. Her eyes glistened with welled up tears, fear clearly written on her face. “It’s Lo’ak..” she started, repeating what Ao’nung confessed earlier.

You raised your hands to your mouth in shock, terrified at what you heard, “What do you mean Ao’nung left Lo’ak beyond the hunting grounds? No one but warriors are allowed there!” You swallowed at the thought of Lo’ak getting injured, or worse, losing his life in the middle of nowhere. You had witnessed Ao’nung’s tendency to play pranks countless times, but never did this particular idea strike your mind. You did not expect things to escalate this much.

Ao’nung met your gaze with his ears flattened down with regret and scrutiny at himself clearly on his face. You avoided his gaze in utter disappointment, exasperated at the endangerment of one of your friends. You thought he had done enough to make the family feel unwelcome, but this is going above and beyond the line. He had endangered the life of another na’vi. You could not bring yourself to meet his eyes without a scornful grimace on your face.

It was not long after until someone yelled that they had found Lo’ak, hugging Tsireya in relief, her tears streaming down her face. Lo’ak shook his head when he saw Ao’nung approaching him, getting blocked by his father’s distressed figure.

“Hey, let’s take a look at you,” Jake roamed his eyes on his son’s body, noticing a few scratches, proceeding to check on Lo’ak’s back to see if there were any notable injuries that needed immediate remedy. “He’s fine! It’s just a few scratches, he’s fine,” he finished examining, Neytiri coming into view with concern morphed into her face, turning into something akin to rage, “I pray for the strength that I will not pluck the eyeballs of my youngest son!” She hissed with a clawing gesture right at Lo’ak’s face, interjected by Tonowari. “No, my son knows better than to take him outside the reef.” He smacked a hand at Ao’nung’s nape, making him kneel before them, “the blame is his.”

“Okay, let’s go,” Jake shrugged off the statement, patting his son’s shoulder. “No, this is not Ao’nung’s fault,” Lo’ak intervened, obviously covering up for the olo’eyktan’s son. Ao’nung’s surprised expression made you shake your head at his foolishness, feeling bad for your friend for salvaging his bully’s honor. Lo’ak peered at him, back to Tonowari “Ao’nung actually tried to talk me out of it, really.” Tsireya only pursed her lips in shame for her brother’s poor decisions, urging her to walk away from the commotion. Soon enough, the rest of the villagers were dispersed, ending the day with you thanking Eywa that she has kept your friend safe, and with the thoughts of Ao’nung circling within your mind.

The next day, you were once again gathered in your usual spot to help the Sully siblings with their breathing. Although instead of training, the group had a newfound interest for talking, curious about Lo’ak’s frightening experience the prior day. You found out that Ao’nung has apologized to Lo’ak, regretful of his actions but also thankful that the boy covered up for his irrationality.

“The tulkun have not returned yet,” Ao’nung scoffed in disbelief, crouching down, “and anyway, no tulkun is ever alone”

“But this one was, he also had a– a missing fin! On the left side, like a stump” Lo’ak defended, pointing at his arm, a bit annoyed.

Your eyes met Rotxo’s in realization, “Lo’ak, did you just say the tulkun was missing a fin?” He nodded at you in hopes of finding more information about his friend, “You have met Payakan..” Tsireya gulped, afraid for him because of what the villagers know about Payakan.

“Payakan?”

Rotxo shook his head, fiddling with a shell, “A young bull who went rogue, he is an outcast. Alone, and he has a missing fin.” Tsireya held Lo’ak’s arm, “They say he is a killer.” Lo’ak frowned, “No, he saved my life–” “He killed na’vi, and other tulkun,” Ao’nung gritted his teeth, pointedly gesturing as if to emphasize his point. “Not here, but far to the south.” “Lo’ak, you are lucky to be alive,” Tsireya smiled as an attempt to ease his worries, but Lo’ak could only sigh, finding it ridiculous that none of his friends believed him.

“My baby brother, the mighty warrior who survived from Payakan!” Neteyam chuckled, patting his brother’s shoulders. “No, you guys aren’t listening,” “No I’m– I’m listening Lo’ak!” Tuk whined, reaching out for her brother.

You pressed your lips together, hugging yourself when Lo’ak stormed off. Blinking at his brother’s response, Neteyam went to sit beside you, offering a smile, “I guess he’s not so mighty to be this fed up in a span of minutes, huh?” You laughed, standing up to call it a day. “(y/n), you are not coming with us?” Tsireya asked, brushing off sand from her legs. “I think I am going to pass, I have not told my mother that we would be visiting,” you smiled apologetically, waving at the rest of the group. “I won’t be going as well,” Ao’nung said, standing up from his crouched position to walk towards you. He slung his arm around you, nodding at his sister, “Be back before the eclipse, Tsireya.” He shared a look with Rotxo, the latter snickering at his friend. “See you guys around,” you waved, starting to walk with Ao’nung.

You were talking to Ao’nung about his latest opinion on the Sully’s when a thought crossed your mind, something that you have been pondering since that night.

“Ao’nung, am I not desirable?”

Your question caught him off guard and stopped walking, “What?” Confusion. It was all written on his face. “I said, am I not desirable?” you repeated while facing him, slowly meeting his gaze with glossy eyes. You have been sought after before but when you turned 18, it was as if all of your redeemable qualities had disappeared. That you have become dull compared to the other girls your age. Keomä had bonded with Tifka. Rotxo is obviously pining for a certain girl. Tsireya and Lo’ak has something going on.

Ao’nung..

Ao’nung probably has someone in mind.

Your ears flattened down in shame, your insecurities resurfacing, doubts swallowing your heart as you searched for answers.

Were you not worthy of being loved?

Tears started to stream down when Ao’nung opened his mouth to answer. You were afraid that he might say something true that you cannot accept. You were afraid that he might ridicule you. You were afraid that you might be incapable of being loved. You were afraid that nobody would see you.

You were afraid that Ao’nung does not see you the way you see him.

Ao’nung let out an exasperated breath, reaching for your hands. “You are desirable.” He licked his bottom lip, “You are beautiful,” he breathed, “the most beautiful metkayina.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “You are good at healing, better than most in weaving.”

You laughed, sniffling at the sudden compliments. “You are not speaking the truth, Ao’nung. You do not have to say those to make me feel better,” you smiled, looking at the horizons instead of his eyes. You could hear the constant splashing of water against the sand, a sound that you have been accustomed with since you were little. The blues reflect the way of the ocean, colors that you have most seen in your whole life.

But you were not familiar with the way Ao’nung looked at you when you glanced back at his face. The look of yearning, as if he was pleading. Like there was a thing that he wanted to see.

That, he sees you.

Your heartbeat fastened at the thought. Of course not. He would not.

Interrupting you from more thinking, he spoke as if he was holding back “Do you have any idea why the others stopped trying to approach you?” You blinked at him, a few tears escaping from your eyes.

“I,” he inhaled sharply “I have told the others that I did not want them near you.” He brought his hand up to wipe at your tears, “I made it clear that they were not worthy of you,” your eyes clouded up again in realization.

“That I was the only one who can love you,” you gripped the arm that held your face, clutching it, afraid that you might slip away from this dream. “I do not want you to see others so I made it impossible for you to have other options than I.” Your lips quivered, “I see you, (y/n). You have owned my heart since we were children,” his face was slowly inching towards yours, “you make me feel tiny in this world,” he smiled like he was in pain, “you hold my whole being, like you would a shell in your collection.”

“You have so many people to choose from,” he closed his eyes, slowly closing the space between you, one centimeter at a time, “many shells to place in your song chord.” He opened his eyes once again when your foreheads met, “But, I want to be the one who will be in your life, recorded and embedded in your heart.”

His eyes themselves were becoming glossy, reflecting the hopeful expression on your face, slightly flushed but still just as beautiful as you were when he first met you. “I see you, (y/n). I see you like how the ilu sees the ocean,” you smiled, happy tears dropping at the mercy of his loving gaze, and finally your velvety voice reached his ears.

“I see you, Ma Ao’nung. I see you since the promise that I have spoken years ago,” without hesitation, your lips met, perfectly slotting together like puzzle pieces finally finding one another after years and years of searching. His plump lips smiling against yours, slowly but passionately finding its place on yours, so full of longing, and as you returned with fervor, his arm found itself wounding across your back, one of his hands gently caressing your jaw, tilting it to a newer angle, making you sigh as he made it clear how long he waited for you to know. For you to see him back.

Seconds felt like hours to the two of you, the background fading into nothingness when it was just the two of you, close together. Your lips parted to catch your breath, holding on to Ao’nung’s neck to balance your weakened knees. You smiled against Ao’nung’s lips, “So, all those years you were taking all of their chances for yourself?” He smirked, “A man cannot be too careful, they were simply not strong enough to go against me.”

“Or, you were simply not strong enough to handle it if I saw someone else,” you snorted at his deadpanning face. Your eyes widened in horror when you saw his face morph into something akin to a daring tsurak, his fangs visible from how wide his smile was, “You have five seconds.”

“5,” you tried to get out from his tight grasp, giggling when he started to nose at your neck,

“4,” he strengthened his grip, “not running away, pretty girl?”

You wheezed, feeling too ticklish when he moved his arms near your sensitive spots, “3,”

“2”

“Oh my Eywa, Ao’nung!” you squealed, failing to escape.

“1!”

“Ready or not, here I come!” he announced, making A’vire giggle nervously behind you. You smiled at his tiny hands gripping your tail, trying to hide his whole body from his father.

“Sa’nu, Aiwouì would not give me my tsurak back!” Ämepxìr cried, tugging at you as you bounced Aytretem in your arms making him giggle.

“Aiwouì, give your sister her toy back, or I will snap your spear in half.” You glared at your 4-year old son.

“Ma yawne, stop glaring at our son or he might just melt into a puddle,” Ao’nung pressed a kiss on your forehead, patting his son on the head, tearing up after being scolded.

“Remind me again, why did I go for you? Look at these little Ao’nungs! None of them look like me,” you whined, repeatedly glancing over your children to double check if they at least had an ounce of you.

He grinned, letting out a boisterous laugh when you let out a long sigh, “Maybe it is because I am stronger than you, (y/n).”

“Stronger?” you scoffed, “I see how it is. I hope you are strong enough to withstand the cold nights Ao’nung,” his eyes almost popped out of his skull in realization.

“No, ma– Yawntu, you know I was just–”

“I hope you have fun being strong by yourself outside my mat, Ao’nung.”

Yawne, Yawntu – Beloved

Sa'nu - Mom, mother

3K notes · View notes

randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

Unrequited Love - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader

summary: you had been in love with tsu'tey for as long as you could remember. so when you see his heart break again at the loss of another mate, you offer him comfort, expecting nothing in return

genre/warnings: smut!, oral (m receiving), angst, unrequited love

wc: 2k

a/n: this is my first time writing smut, so i hope i didn't screw it up completely. please let me know if there's anything unrealistic or sounds silly (i am a virgin, idk what the hell i'm doing), i'll be glad to change it. also, please don't forget to leave some feedback, replies, whatever you want. i love reading what you have to say, and it always encourages me to write more ♡

masterlist - part 2

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You watch in silence, your focus only on him. As things escalate between Tsu'tey and Jake, people around you begin to gasp and murmur, filling the space with noise. All you want to do is to call out his name, get him out of there.

It’s obvious to you that his challenge means nothing. He does it to upkeep his reputation, but if he kills Jake, Neytiri will never choose him again. Tsu’tey draws a knife, bending down over Jake’s unconscious body.

“Neytiri was promised to me,” Tsu’tey grabs him by the hair, bringing his knife closer, “This is a demon in a false body. It should not live.”

Neytiri suddenly lunges at Tsu’tey with all her might. She knocks him off his feet and takes a defensive stance over Jake, baring her teeth and knife. You notice Tsu’tey's posture weaken, as he watches his mate claim Jake as her own in front of the whole clan. He knows it’s too late for him to fight, Neytiri and Jake are now mated for life. Your heart aches at the sight of Tsu’tey's bloodied face and the way he spits on the ground before retreating into the forest, disappearing from the crowd.

Desperately, you rush after him, ignoring the noise and commotion breaking around you. It takes some time for you to finally spot his frame, partially hidden between thick bushes, sitting on a rock with his head hanging low in defeat.

Sylwanin was his first true love. You watched them fall in love while you were still children. Having a crush on somebody who was already claimed was tough on you, but you knew that Sylwanin and Tsu’tey were meant for each other, and you tried very hard to be happy for them. You remember it as clear as a day when they announced their bond, and the way you cheered for them, joining in on the celebration. But in your heart, you couldn't help but wish for the kind of love that Tsu'tey had for Sylwanin. You prayed to Eywa that she would one day grant you such feeling.

Losing Sylwanin in that tragic accident was devastating already, but being arranged to mate with her sister instead must have been an unbearable burden for Tsu’tey. Your heart shattered into thousands of tiny pieces when you first heard the news, and there was nothing you could do to help. Tsu’tey was a great hunter and warrior, there was no one more deserving of being Olo’eyctan than him. And though he bonded with Neytiri over their shared grief, he knew that he could never love her the same way. When Sylwanin died, a part of him had also died with her. And now, witnessing Tsu’tey lose his mate to another man was agonizing.

“Tsu’tey,” you catch his attention, approaching him.

As if caught in a moment of vulnerability, Tsu’tey sits up straight. You grimace at the blood smeared around his beautiful face, eyes glistening with the threat of tears. Noticing your gaze lingering on him, Tsu’tey hurries to wipe his eyes. Future Olo’eyctan or not, he didn’t like that you saw him like this. Quickly, you reach forward and grasp his wrists, preventing him from hiding his face.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“I’m fine,” he huffs, shaking his hands to free them from yours.

You don’t take offense to his harshness. Growing up, Tsu’tey always had a soft spot for you, but that did not apply during the moments of humiliation. You crouch down in front of him, letting his frame loom over you.

“You shouldn’t have followed me, Y/N,” he says, like it was an order you disobeyed.

You purse your lips, uncertain if Tsu’tey truly means it. Despite being only two years older than you, Tsu’tey still treated you like a child sometimes. Even as a kid, he exuded dominance and strength, his presence alone putting everyone intact. So whenever he saw boys bullying you, Tsu’tey was quick to tell them off. He would then nudge your shoulder, coaxing a smile from you, and consider his job done. But what he failed to recognize, after all these years, is that you never saw him the same way he saw you. Your heart ached every time you looked at him, knowing that he could never be yours, and that his own heart belonged to someone else.

“I don’t want to take out my anger on you,” Tsu’tey’s tone is stern, “You better leave, Y/N.”

“You can take it out on me, I don’t mind,” you say softly, as his eyes widen in confusion.

“I’m not kidding,” he warns you with a low growl.

“Please, let me help you,” you plead with him, resting your palms over his thighs, “I can take it, you don’t have to hold back.”

Tsu’tey rarely heard those words. He was always scolded for being short-tempered, acting out of anger. That those were unsuitable qualities for the future Olo’eyctan. Tsu’tey tried to contain it, but often old habits would slip right back in. He shifted under your touch, gazing at your hands, while his mind went to places where it shouldn’t go. He thought that he was probably reading you wrong, still upset over the fight.

You weren’t sure if this was where you wanted things to head, when you followed him. But right at this moment, you felt like there was nothing else you wanted to do for him. Your heart truly desired to see him relax for a moment, even if it was at the expense of your feelings. As you slowly moved your palms higher on his thighs, Tsu’tey drew in a short breath. He watched you silently until your fingers grazed the edges of his loincloth.

“You don’t have to,” Tsu’tey put his hands over yours, in an attempt to stop you, but all you could feel was the heat radiating off his skin, making your heart race.

“I want to,” you insist, “Let me make you feel good.”

“You know I can never truly devote myself to anyone else but Sylwanin,” his voice drops, and you have to perk your ears to hear him.

“I know,” you move your fingers to his sides, reaching the ties of his loincloth, “I don’t expect anything in return.”

“Y/N…” Tsu’tey whispers but you shush him.

You notice the way he tries to resist the growing lust, despite longing for it to be satisfied. His mind tells him to walk away but his body doesn’t comply. Would it be so bad for him to get lost in the moment and just let it go? Let himself forget about all of his worries and pretend that he had nothing weighing down on him?

You hesitate before untying his loincloth, waiting for Tsu’tey to stop you, but he doesn’t. As the fabric slides off his sides, revealing his already hard cock, you’re taken aback slightly. Tsu’tey watches your reaction with a hint of shame; he can’t believe he’s already aroused just by the way you undressed him.

Slowly, you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his thigh. You hear Tsu’tey’s breath hitch and feel his muscles clench, as you start trailing kisses up his skin. When you reach his balls, you pause. You have never done anything like this before. Sure, you heard girls talk about pleasuring their mates in many ways, but you could only dream about making Tsu’tey happy. It’s scary.

You take a breath before planting wet kisses to his sack, then some more to the base of his member. Instinctively, his penis twitches underneath your lips, and you hear Tsu’tey let out a small moan. Your ears perk up at the sound so pleasant, you wish you could hear it everyday. You’ve never seen this side of Tsu’tey; he was always so stern, so aware of the way he presented himself to others. But here he is now, trembling under your touch, letting his guard down. Feeling braver, you wrap your lips around his sack, sucking in gently. Simultaneously, your fingers find their way around his penis, giving it a light squeeze.

“Tsahey,” he grunts through his teeth.

The sounds he makes are so satisfying, you feel heat rush to your cunt. You try to ignore the growing sensation, as you press your tongue flat against his shaft, and follow along a prominent vein. Tsu’tey’s grabs the back of your neck, bringing your face closer, ordering for more. You had no idea that you were unintentionally teasing him, making him impatient.

Getting his hint, you take the tip of his penis into your mouth, your tongue occasionally grazing the top, as you suck on it. You let the saliva drip out of your mouth and smear it over his shaft with your hand, beginning to draw small motions up and down, your mouth still working.

“Take it all in,” Tsu’tey grunts, “Please.”

Tsu’tey had never sounded as desperate as he did right now. To please him, you lean in, trying to take his whole penis into your mouth. It was your best attempt, given how big he was, and feeling the tip press against the back of your throat. It tickles your skin like an annoying scratch you want to tend to. As you lose the rhythm of your breathing, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, you pull away. Instead, you work your hand up and down his penis, now completely covered in your saliva. You massage his balls with your other hand, and when you hear Tsu’tey draw in another short breath, your walls painfully clench around nothing. You push your thighs together, trying not to get distracted by your own desire.

As you pick up a rhythm with your hand, Tsu’tey’s muscles are clenching and relaxing at every movement. He starts to grow impatient, wishing to feel the inside of your mouth again, and reaches out to direct his penis into your mouth. You take him in.

“Tsahey,” he grunts again, then lets out a soft moan when you swirl your tongue around him.

Tsu’tey suddenly stands up, forcing you to sit up higher on your knees. This new position now allows him to slide his full length into you, tickling your throat and almost making you gag. Tears prick up at the corner of your eyes, as he starts jerking his hips forward in small, quick motions. To hold you in place, Tsu’tey grabs you by your hair, and starts speeding up, thrusting into you more violently. When he tugs at your queue, you let out a small whimper.

Distracted by the sound you just made, Tsu’tey slows down, locking his eyes on yours.

“Will you be alright?” he asks, his breath shaky. You suck on him as a sign of approval, “I just need a moment, I'm almost there."

Tsu’tey grips the back of your neck, and picks up the speed of his thrusts again, hitting the back of your throat with a new force. He is going harder on you, desperately chasing the wave of pleasure. Your mouth felt so warm, so soft around him, cheeks sucking and pressing against his length. The tears in your eyes turn your vision blurry, and you try to blink them away, to watch his face. He looks so beautiful.

Suddenly, you feel his member clench, and Tsu’tey pushes into you a few more times. His movements become sloppier, and when a loud groan escapes from his lips, you feel warm bitter liquid filling out your mouth.

“Mawey,” he whispers, his lids heavy, as he pulls out.

He presses his fingers against your chin, lifting your head just enough to encourage you to swallow. You gulp down, maintaining eye contact, and Tsu’tey hums with a smile, satisfied. Your cunt clenches painfully, pleading for attention, and you squeeze your thighs again, trying to calm yourself down.

Tsu’tey notices it immediately, eyes now lingering on your loincloth. You look away, embarrassed to get caught by him, and wipe your mouth.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says, still standing bare in front of you.

It’s awkward, you don’t know how to behave now. You stand up, still not meeting his eyes.

“Feel a little better now?” you ask softly.

“Much better,” Tsu’tey places his fingers under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, “Do you want me to help you with that?”

Your cunt clenches again, when his gaze trails down your body. You feel heat rush to your face at the mere thought of Tsu'tey pleasuring you. But you’re too flustered, you’re not sure you can endure it.

“No, this is not about me,” you shake your head, “I wanted to make you feel better because you didn’t deserve what happened.”

“I must be a fool,” Tsu’tey admits with a guilty sigh, “I never thought that you... that there was something.”

“I know you hadn’t,” you dismiss the way his eyes burn into yours.

“You deserve someone better. Who is not as broken as me,” his hand cups your cheek to offer you comfort.

“Please don’t,” you pull away, interrupting him before he can pity you, “I know you don’t feel the same, Tsu’tey, it’s alright.”

You force a small smile, blinking away the tears in your eyes. The moment between you is fleeting, but it weighs heavy on your heart. You know that he can never love you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

part 2

1K notes · View notes

hhnguyen · 1 year

Text

parts of my heart

This takes place shortly before the humans return to Pandora.

♢ Pairing: Jake Sully x Neytiri, Mom!Neytiri x Oldest Daughter!Reader, Dad!Jake Sully x Oldest Daughter!Reader

♢ Word count: 2.3k

♢ Genre: Family fluff, mother-daughter fluff, protective older sister

⌲ Description: A look at the Sully children through the loving eyes of Neytiri, and how you as the oldest daughter fit into this puzzle piece. Also a slight rediscovery of Neytiri and Jake’s relationship after the war cause it’s not talked about enough.

M A S T E R L I S T

The journey of motherhood had been both a tumultuous and joyous ride for Neytiri ever since her first pregnancy.

Being a chief’s daughter and also one of the clan's best hunters from a young age, she had hardly thought much about her future, which at the time had already been set up for her after her sister’s unfortunate death.

Neytiri had not started her life with expectations of becoming Tsahik, being the second daughter - so she had proven herself as a hunter and warrior until the sudden new responsibilities were thrust upon her shoulders alongside the engagement with Tsu’tey. Someone who she had viewed as an older brother, yet both of them were forced to accept the new arrangement in the following grief of Sylwanin’s death.

Jake had flipped her entire world upon entering it - something she had viewed negatively despite the signs of Eywa branding him as someone special, not to be ignored.

And he had turned out to be the missing piece in her life; the one who filled her lungs with fresh air and kept her afloat during hard times.

His presence alone comforted her, even across the room engaged in conversations with other people. Neytiri always knew she was safe with Jake nearby, and the same went for him. They were each other’s protectors no matter the situation. And now their protection had expanded over five children of their own.

Motherhood had been a scary thought during her first pregnancy with you. Having been conceived in the midst of uncertain times, yet filled with a new undiscovered love. Jake had been shocked to his very bones at the revelation, only a few days after the final battle against the sky demons.

She remembered the silence omitted from him, one of the very few moments Neytiri felt the fear of being left behind before a beautiful grin had filled his face and he had lifted her off the ground in joyous laughter, and abruptly changing into a frown as he had released her before muttering in slight horror, ‘You went to battle pregnant?’

She had simply hissed at him in slight frustration, reminding him quickly of who she was before he could go on a rant about her safety when the war was all over with.

Maybe that was why Neytiri found herself admiring her oldest daughter more and more these days as you grew older. Where Kiri was precious herself, she was more peaceful. A healer at heart, that reminisced her of Sylwanin.

Her little Tukteyri was still a child, too young to know who she was as of yet and still exploring her personality - but Neytiri could see the hints of an adventurer growing in her youngest daughter.

You were a spitting image of Neytiri at that age.

Fierce, unyielding yet loving and a nurturing sister at the same time. Although she had heard Jake sigh many times on how much you reminded him of his human brother. You loved your siblings to the ends of Pandora and Eywa herself despite your relentless teasing.

Neteyam - her sweet boy - was a silent protector. Observing and supportive in his comforting silence, especially to Lo’ak, who always gravitated towards his older brother like a fly to a light.

You were more Palulukan in that sense. Aggressive and vocal in your protective stance, eyes narrowed in a hidden promise and never letting any of your siblings out of your gaze in the presence of a hostile.

As a sister, her other children saw you as someone as steady as a mountain. Never to be moved when it came to their safety. But to her, and Jake especially, you would always be their little girl.

Their first little flower in their blooming garden of love and life.

Pausing in her making of Tuk’s new clothes, Neytiri cast her eyes across their hut in the common area where you were seated, busy fletching new arrows and sharpening all your personal weapons gifted to you through the years as little Tuktirey came racing in through the entrance in a beeline towards you.

There was a graceful smoothness in the way you were quick, yet casual to carefully put the sharp objects aside and out of harm’s way of the younger Sully and she threw herself in your lap with a large, dramatic pout.

“What’s up, Tuk Tuk?” You grinned down at her, smoothing back her braids. “Thought you were helping out Kiri with the herbs?”

“I was, but then it got boring when she and grandma started talking about plants and their many uses…” there was a huff of dismay as you chuckled.

“Sissy, please play with me!”

There was an apologetic smile on your face. “I can’t, Tuk. I told you I was busy catching up with maintenance duty today. And I’m joining dad and the hunting party later.”

Tuktirey would not budge, as Neytiri prepared herself to step in and stop the whinings of her youngest child. “But sissyyyy, you’re always busy and never play with me anymore. Even Lo’ak says he doesn’t remember the last time you two hung out.”

You felt the slight guilt in you swirling at the truth in Tuk’s words. You had been awfully busy with your tasks and more involved in the daily happenings of the clan, accompanying your dad on a lot of excursions outside of the village and thus having less time to hang out with your siblings.

Neyteyam too had been quite busy with his Olo’eyktan training, and Kiri starting her own journey as a healer. That left only little Tuktirey and Lo’ak to not have their days filled with lessons, leaving them quite lonely in a usually big family.

So you made up your mind.

“How about this, Tuk Tuk. Tomorrow I’ll bring you flying for the entire day. Just us two, hm? You’ll be begging me to be on the ground again by the end of it.”

There was a delighted gasp from your baby sister. “On Atanzaw?”

You nodded.

Atanzaw was your precious Ikran, meaning forked lighting. Your taming of him had been recorded as being of the most vicious battles in the last decade, leaving you with scrapes that dripped blood and bruises lasting for several weeks, as well as a broken wrist. Compare that to Kiri’s, who had simply reached out and asked hers to become her friend and finished tsaheylu and her first flight within five minutes - it made for a hilarious story.

He was known to be quite vicious among the tamed Ikrans even after your bonding. Only ever submits to you, and is even wary of having other people touch him if you didn’t calm him enough beforehand.

Your family knew this, Tuk especially, having been warned many times to not get close to the animal when he was close to the other mounts. So for her, to be able and fly this beautiful midnight blue Ikran, with his hints of green and yellow seemed like an adventure of a lifetime.

“Okay!” With her loud confirmation, she scrambled off your lap quickly before pointing at you with a stern finger. “You have to finish all of this today, sissy, or else we won’t be able to fly tomorrow!”

You contained your amused grin, forcing your face to remain dramatically serious and straightening your spine with a salute and firm “Aye Aye, sir!”

Satisfied with your agreement, Tuk vanished back out of the hut after pecking Neytiri on the cheek in passing.

You had been so caught up in the change of exciting atmosphere that you managed to cut yourself as you had blindly reached for the knife aside and touched the sharp edge instead.

“Fuck!”

Neytiri sucked in a reprimanding hiss at the language as you smiled sheepishly at her. “Sorry, mama.”

“Come to me, ma‘ite.” (daughter)

Although slightly suspicious at the sudden request, you listened and made your way across the hut and went to sit down in front of your mother when she grabbed your bicep and pulled you down in the empty space between her legs, back against her warm chest as she grabbed your hand with the cut with a slight tut, chin hovering over your shoulders.

“Mom!” You complained in slight embarrassment at being cradled against her like a babe again, ears flickering.

“Shush now. Let me bind that for you.”

As your mom started to clean the cut and smoothly bind it, you felt yourself relaxing against her larger form. The warmth of her body felt like a comforting blanket over you as your head tilted to the side to rest against the nape of her neck and shoulder, watching as she tended to your injury.

You barely noticed the almost drowsy state of yourself and how your tail had curled around your own mother’s calf like a baby searching for its protector unconsciously, as she finished and lifted your hand up to peck the injured area softly.

“How are you, my love?” Neytiri’s voice was soft as she started stroking your hair back, cuddling closer against the side of your head.

“Hm? I’m doing good, mama.”

“Are you being honest with me?”

“Of course I am.”

“Mhm.”

“What is it?”

“I just wonder when my children started lying to me,” it was an offhand comment.

“I’m not lying?” More awakened at her sudden questions, you tilted your head up with a small frown. “Do I not seem okay to you?”

You suddenly remembered back to the time you dad had taken you with him to the science lab at the old Hell’s Gate when you had just turned ten. Almost like a rite of passage of his own making by allowing you to accompany him on Olo’eyktan duties. You had felt like you were in a new world, with Norm showing you around with a watchful eye of your dad, always reminding you to take a breath from the mask if you felt a little uncomfortable. You had replied with a swift ‘Yes papa’ when Norm had said, so daddy’s your favorite huh?

There had been confusion from your part at that time. Because you couldn’t imagine having a favorite parent, the thought of it felt..disrespectful.

Your father was the fortress that shielded this family from dangers, while your mother made up the pillars that kept the fortress standing. Your parents were intertwined in soul and body, and one without the other could not function.

It was true that a lot of your time was spent beside your dad, so some humans must have viewed you as ‘daddy’s girl.’ But your mom was always there. Either in the shadows making the darkness seem less intimidating, or as a gentle reminder in your heart.

This was one of these moments. Where she was observing you without you knowing, seeing all the faults and hurts that could affect you that you hadn’t even imagined about.

“You know if all these excursions with your dad are getting too much, you are allowed to take a break from them.”

“What makes you think I need a break?”

Neytiri simply hummed, not ceasing in her loving caress of your long braids, nearly forcing you to relax against her again. “Your siblings miss you, ma ‘ite. I understand your dedication to learning the ways of our people and supporting your father’s Olo’eyktan duties. But you are still young, even if you’ve succeeded in your Iknimaya and Uniltaron, sixteen is not an adult just yet.”

You were the only of your siblings to complete all of the rites of the Omatikaya successfully without fail, Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo’ak having only passed their Iknimaya’s and still preparing for the dream hunt.

The first face you had seen after waking up from your own dream hunt had been your dad’s. Eyes shining with tears and pride were painted across every inch of his expression as he pulled you into his arms, your mom standing just behind him with a tearful face herself.

“And sometimes I miss my own ‘itetsyìp.” (little daughter)

“She’s still here…” you murmured softly, staring at how much larger your mother’s body seemed cocooned around you.

“Oh my love, but you are not,” your mom’s voice had remained soothing and low as if she didn’t want to scare you away with the truth. “You may not have noticed, but you have isolated yourself away from us. Spending more time with the clan, trying your best to protect your siblings, and making sure there are no possible threatening outcomes. Do you know how I know?”

Your silence prompted her to continue.

“You are exactly like your father after the war. He was so busy doing his best in keeping us safe that for a time he forgot to live.”

“...And what did you do?”

“I knocked him upside down on his head and demanded him to wake up,” Neytiri said firmly, a smile slowly forming at the giggle you released.

“So I am telling you the same right now. You must remember to live, my sweet. Or else I fear your view of Eywa’s path will become obscured with time.”

There was a lump in your throat that you tried to swallow, although you couldn’t stop the harsh breath you took to keep back your tears as your mom’s arms tightened around you.

“I’m sorry, mama. I didn’t realize.”

“You are parts of my very heart,” Neytiri whispered, lips hovering above your head as a loving reminder of her presence, now and in the coming days. A staple in your life that would shield all that she could without hesitance.

“I will protect you to the very ends of time even if it is from yourself.”

Nuzzling further into her, you let an wavering smile grace your face as you replied just as quietly. “I know. Oel ngati kameie, sa’nu.” (I see you, mom)

”Nga yawne lu oer, ma’ite.” (I love you/ You are beloved to me, daughter)

Am I really churning out all these drabbles of the Sully family while I can without caring about the amount? Well yes, yes I am.

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