#they have the warriors' bond. real | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chaethewriter · 1 year

Text

You're dead to me [2]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

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

warning: english isn't my first language, daddy issues, idk how one lives with zero gravity, barely proofread

Word count: 2,3k

previous chapter

next chapter

What actually took six years didn't feel like that to you at all. One moment you closed your eyes as you were put into cryosleep and after what felt like one second passed, you got woken up from your deep slumber. The claustrophobic space you are in makes something inside of you itch. Good thing you were into cryosleep, you couldn't have survived sleeping in this tube every night for six years in a row. Once your tube was pulled out of the wall, you immediately feel yourself floating. So this is what space felt like.

"Drink and eat lots, since you will feel very weak!", a loud voice echoes through the room as one by one everyone left their cryosleep. You float through the room with a smile on your face as you hold onto handles, lockers, anything to keep your balance. An excited scream could be heard from behind you, it was your friend Raja. "You are not dead I see," she jokes as she floats towards you, her arms wide open to invite you in a hug, "this is honestly insane, I can't believe that we are actually doing this!" You wrap your arms around you as you share her excitement, "I know right? We worked so hard for this, I can't believe this is happening." You met Raja on your first day being at the resistance base. She shared her passion for nature with pride and you always admired her for this. A cough is heard behind your back and Raja looks over your shoulder to see who it was, "Seb!" she squeals as she carefully gets out of your hug, floating towards their other friend to engulf him in a hug. You watch as Raja and Seb share their excitement with each other. They really didn't age at all while being in cryosleep, such an interestingly concept it was. You float towards them, holding onto Seb's shoulder to keep your balance and not pass out, because damn they were right. You feel so tired and weak. If you weren't in space right now you probably would have fallen to the floor. Your limbs felt like cooked noodles, you really needed to eat. "The trio is back at it again to cause havoc!!" Seb ruffles your head, your hair tangling in between his fingers as he did so. The three of you were the inseparable trio. While you had a group of friends you hung out with, you three always just stuck together like glue. It may have been the fact you bonded over being reckless warriors, thriving on the thrill and action, or the fact all three of you were top students, but that doesn't matter. Raja and Seb are your partners in crime til death do you all part. The two are engaged in a deep conversation, but you didn't bother to listen or chime in. You wanted to explore, and see what you worked your entire teenagehood for. Grabbing onto the handle against the walls, you made your way towards the huge window, were also most of the crew was floating around. You had to see this for yourself, you had to believe it with your own eyes. What if you were still dreaming?

"Excuse me, Pardon me!", still not used to not having any gravity, you keep bumping into other warriors. A 'watch where you're going!' was screamed your way, but you paid no mind to it as you had more important things to do. Floating past the last person that kept you from seeing outside, your eyes immediately widen at the beauty that lay in front of you. A planet, looking exactly like earth, right in front of you. It was beautiful, the true meaning behind mother nature. You bring your hand towards your cheek to pinch yourself, was this real? Were you truly experiencing this? When you pinched yourself so hard, leaving a red mark on your skin, and you didn't wake up you knew this was real. You were knocked out of your senses pretty quickly, as everyone was told to dress up, eat and get together in the common area. Where that was? No idea, but what you knew is that you were excited as hell. You basically swam through the air towards the lockers, where your supposed gear would be. The sight was probably incredibly silly, you thought, you probably looked like a swimming frog. Yet you didn't care about the stares that were given you. The only thing on your mind was to see Pandora with your own eyes— not out of books, notes you had to read, or drawings. You left without telling Seb or Raja, but you would probably find them, considering you're going to the same destination and those two definitely weren't to miss.

You float past all the lockers with nameplates, looking for your name. You were told that they were in alphabetic order. Last name. You could never escape him, could you? You proceed to float, using the lockers to pull yourself up and speed up towards the lockers that start with 'S'. Upon floating in front of the name that haunted you every day, you sigh and slam the locker open. Clothes sealed in recycled plastic, a pair of shoes, and an oxygen mask. Fortunately, it wasn't those old aquarium-like masks. When you learned about those you thought they were ugly as hell: a head in an aquarium. Those were designed like gas masks. Was that the best way to explain them? They only covered the mouth and nose part to breathe properly, it didn't cover the entire face anymore. You flash a skeptical expression towards the clothes in your arms. They were dark colors, dark colors in a hot amazon-like forest? If it were up to you, you wouldn't have chosen a little more, bare, clothes. For the sweat to at least dry up and not soak in the clothes. "Weird choice of clothes, right?", Raja appeared next to you, out of the blue, making you flinch. You quickly managed to cover it up and compose yourself, "I'm gonna end up looking like a crab while fighting a villain, kind of embarrassing." she laughs at your reply and grabs a hold of your forearm, "come on let's go change. Seb already went to change!" And with that, your friend pulls you with her. Changing your clothes was kind of awkward. The room was a big space where all women changed next to one another. It gave PE class vibes. You felt sticky and disgusting as you changed out of the clothes you wore for six years. Wearing fresh, clean clothes is always better than nothing. The material feels nice against your skin, and very cooling. As you look in the mirror, fixing every detail to look as neat as possible. You roll your sleeves up just a tad bit and tried to loosen the corset-like clothing piece around your upper body. It doesn't look exactly like a corset, but it's one of those clothing pieces that have a corset built into it. The mask is hanging against your hip, ready to be used 24/7 once you stepped foot on Pandora. The pants were a little wide thankfully, enough space to move into. "What is it with the corset though? Who wears a corset while fighting?" "Maybe it's bulletbroof or something?"

After this whole ordeal in the dressing room with some people whining about the clothes being too hot, while others were second guessing if the outfit was nice to fight in, you finally made your way towards this common area. There everyone was awkwardly sitting, what one could call sitting in space. Everyone was given a granola bar to snack on and a sealed bag with a sweet drink in it. You leaned against Seb, as you were too tired to use your strength to hold onto anything. Eating the bar and sipping from the overly-sweetened drink, you listened to the peptalk your superiors were giving you all. It was something about protecting Pandora, RDA and the forest Na'vi, but you really were too tired to listen. It was most likely the talk they did every time before you went into cryosleep. If you missed anything you could just ask Raja or Seb about it.

What almost felt like a decade to you, actually took just a few hours before you finally landed on Pandora. During the landing all, maybe twenty of you in total, were seated as you braced for impact. It wasn't too bad, it was like a plane landing. Before the doors opened, the duffel bags you took with you were placed on your laps. For your instance, the bag with the wrapped katana you got from your lieutenant was handed to you. You put your mask against your face, pressing it down and securing it as you breathe in the oxygen from the earth. Red lights flash through the area you're in with the others as the secured door lowers to the Pandorean ground, revealing the beauty of mother nature. You rise from your seat as your seat belt was already unclasped. Without waiting any longer, you rushed to the outside world in a heartbeat. Watching your surroundings, it seems like you landed on the resistance base. Unlike the RDA base, which you saw during your learning process, this one was more integrated with mother nature rather than destroying it to make space. It was so organic, so natural. A team was already waiting for your arrival, all standing in a row as you lock gazes with a Na'vi. Unlike the things you were taught about Na'vi clothing, this one was wearing human clothes. Could this be what one would call an avatar? The same situation your dad was also in? You start thinking he was your dad, but it didn't look like him at all. You knew avatars were supposed to look like their 'owners'. Even though it was supposed to be your dad's brother's avatar, they were twins. One would ask 'you don't know what your dad's avatar body looks like?', but honestly as you said many times you tried to pull away from the hauntings Jake Sully got you. The insecurities, and issues you got from his betrayal, his departure. It truly hit you like a truck. Questions would pop up like:

Were you enough?

Was there something wrong with you?

Why didn't he come back to you?

You couldn't take talking about your dad's new life. Selfish one may call it, then you were selfish in their eyes. You didn't care. Wanting your dad, is that selfish? Missing your dad, is that selfish? Angry because your dad wanted a new life without you, is that selfish? You yearned for him, yet despised talking about him. That's why you don't know what he looks like, what he is up to. You just know his history: put into the avatar body from his brother to follow military orders. From only caring about getting a paycheck to protecting the natives. He was crowned with the name Toruk Makto as you were taught. Mated to Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'Ite, daughter of the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik. When you first heard about this, you felt sick to your stomach. Reality hitting you even harder at age thirteen. It was already bad enough to know your dad left you, but also getting to know that he settled down while you spent your time waiting for him? You remember running out of the classroom when a superior taught you this information. This was also how you got in contact with Raja and Seb. They comforted you while everyone else thought of you as weird, weak. They were the first people, besides the superiors that came in contact with you, that came to know about your dad being Jake Sully, about the struggles you got after he left. Yet, they didn't laugh at what you thought was exaggerating. They listened carefully to your words as the tears rolled down your cheeks.

'We were attached to the hip, what went wrong?'

'Did I make him unhappy?'

'Was I too much for him?'

'Was he looking for something more rather than being a single dad?'

You spilled your insecurities to them and they never uttered a word about it to someone else. You will be forever grateful for them. You were so lost in thoughts, getting slightly emotional at all these thoughts about your dad, until a hand rested on your shoulder, "and last but not least, you must take her with you. She's our best warrior, Norm. She will need to stay on the battlefield, closest to the war." So Norm was his name. A pretty goofy one if you had to be honest. The avatar named Norm stood at least 10 feet tall as he looked down at you, literally. You just reached around his crotch area, which is kinda embarrassing because imagining running into his front. Hopefully, he likes to travel in his human body more. "Then that's settled, Oel Ngati Kameie." His hand rested against his forehead, slowly bringing it down to his chest. You flashed him a kind smile in return, ready for whatever adventure you will come across, "Oel Ngati Kameie."

But only if you knew.

"They have arrived, they will help us."

"They're sky demons! All the same!"

"I used to be one as well, yet I had a change of heart. Please accept the help they will offer us, for our people, for our family, our fortress." his hands grip hers, intertwining their fingers as he spoke to her in private, away from the children. He opened his mouth again, pressing his forehead against hers, "please, Ma Neytiri."

A/N: first of all, thank you all so much for the positive feedback. I honestly didn't expect it I'm gonna be fr😭 it gave me enough motivation to write part 2, so here it is, earlier than expected. I hope you enjoyed <3

also i hope no one noticed me accidentally posting the draft cause that was silly

Taglist (I couldn't find everyone):

@hoodiepandaninja16 @l0v3e1i @neteyamforlife @noname2246 @bunnyrose01 @littlelia007 @j0551 @navs-bhat @fyfy-world @hellok1ttycake @coterami @lwozy @erenjaegerwifee @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kahlowy @iloveavatar @farleyis @reguluscrystals @inomoikawa @bobojojoba69 @m3ll0n1xx @eternallyvenus @shyskybbb @imakms @keira7664 @alice121804 @aimsro @carollise @jjkclub @onlytays @wolfiealina @guska0 @yeosxxx @dakotali @destinylb @degenweeb @sunshinewwx @alohastitch0626

#jake sully #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully #dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad! jake sully #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x human!daughter!reader #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #sully family x reader #spider sully

4K notes · View notes

francis-writes · 2 months

Text

A/N: I love this request, there's nothing better than inherent subtextual eroticism of fighting together and trying to kill each other (Fr it's good for all kinds of bonding; i spent a year learning judo and self-defense and there's something real about friendship and trust between two people who every week throw each other on the floor, strangle each other and twist each other's arms)

you knew how to fight, at least the basics. Enough to defend yourself, but there's never too much fighting skills in this dangerous world. Especially when you live on Giedi Prime

When you asked Feyd if he could teach you (after all he was a famous warrior), he immediately agreed. He enjoyed every occasion to fight and even if he wasn't going to kill you or maim you, the idea of training together still made him happy (and turned on). It's just two his favourite things mixed together: you and violence

Your training together included many things; building your strength and stamina, wrestling barehand, fighting with many weapons (mostly knives but also iron bars, whips, swords etc)

No matter how much affection he holds for you, he's a teacher with high standards so don't count on any special treatment. He attacks you, like he would attack his real opponent and if you don't have good enough reflex, then next time act faster. He won't hurt you (more than a few scratches and bruises) but Feyd points out every time you make a mistake

Even if you are tired or not in the mood, he kinda forces you to it, just like Gurney Halleck forces Paul. It's well-meaning, considering that danger doesn't choose a moment when you're perfectly relaxed and full of energy

When you get better, he offers you a fight with a drugged up prisoner. What you say to that is up to you

NSFW: even though he's a professional warrior and these lessons taught you a lot, they really often ended up in sex (not even in the bedroom, poor servants had later more trouble with cleaning floor od training room than usual). It was enough that during fight he pressed you to the floor. Or you put a knife to his throat. Or you got scratched and started bleeding (he will immediatelylick that blood off). That's why Feyd can never took you to war.

#feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #dune imagine #dune part two #feyd rautha imagine

446 notes · View notes

makoodles · 1 year

Text

ミ tìtunu

i'm so excited to be posting for my man tsu'tey, because he is criminally under-rated. (look at that gif! i'm going feral).

🍓pairing: tsu'tey x fem human reader

🍓word count: 4k

🍓tags: she/her pronouns for reader, alien courting rituals, misunderstandings, mentions of vomiting (not too graphic, but a warning all the same!)

masterlist

part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part four (nsfw)

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

Life is not going how Tsu’tey had intended.

It starts with the arrival of Jakesully, the demon’s acceptance into the clan, the ensuing war against the Sky People, and Tsu’tey’s own uncomfortably close brush with death after falling from the human’s large flying machine. His whole life has been disrupted, his plans and motivations, his hopes and his expectations. Jakesully is a moron, but he is Tsu’tey’s brother now. Bonds have been forged in fire and blood as they fought together against the demon invaders from the sky, and Tsu’tey has no choice but to accept his fate. It will take time to become accustomed to his new role within the clan, no longer as a future leader but always as a protector, but he is adjusting as well as he can.

While he has suffered many blows to his pride in recent months, not least his grievous injury that has prevented him from taking part in his usual routine with the rest of the clan’s warriors, he is still a blooded male of the clan. Now that Neytiri has mated with Jakesully, Tsu’tey himself is free to pick a mate of his own, unburdened by the expectations of leadership. It’s both a liberating and humiliating thought, and he has to admit that it does his wounded pride some good to be on the receiving end of mating interest from so many attractive prospects within the clan.

Any of the Omaticayan women that have shown interest in him so far would be perfectly respectable choices. Txisma is one of the best weavers among the People, her creations sturdy and reliable while also colourful and beautiful. Ninat is the best singer of the clan, her voice bright and clear as her songs bring joy to all who listen. Even Saeyla, ever so consistently loyal despite the fact that he has already rejected her, would be a perfectly respectable choice as a mate.

But the real, ultimate indignity of it all is that Tsu’tey can’t manage to drum up any interest in any of them. No matter how much they smile at him so coyly and prettily, no matter how impressive their displays of skill are, no matter how quick and deadly and proficient they are at fighting, he can’t manage to force himself to look at them with anything more than detached appreciation.

Perhaps the Sky People had injured him beyond repair when they had hurt him and pushed him from their enormous metal bird.

That is the only reason he can think of to explain why the one person who has captured his thoughts so wholly is you, the little human demon that is constantly lurking around the Omaticaya camp.

In the beginning, his fixation is driven by aggravation and fury. After the destruction of Hometree, the People move as one to a spot just south of the Well of Souls and set up a temporary encampment there. When the humans that remain after the RDA have left his planet are invited by Jakesully to their new settlement to spend time with them in a show of tentative co-operation, Tsu’tey spends the whole time scowling in your direction. Jakesully had proven himself a good leader and has earned Tsu’tey’s respect, which is perhaps the only reason that he initially accepted the presence of these Sky People in their new home. Even with his reluctant acceptance, he meets the tiny demons with suspicion and hostility. You, especially.

You infuriate him. Too small, terribly soft and squishy, unable to hold a bow or wield a spear or do anything useful. You came here with the rest of the Sky People, but you are not a warrior like Jakesully. Instead you spend all of your time reading books and studying the plants of his planet. But you don’t even study them in any useful way! You sketch them and take notes, and make frequent exclamations about how wonderful it all is, but you don’t do anything useful, at least as far as Tsu’tey can see.

It had taken him a terribly long time to realise what was happening.

In the beginning, his eyes had cut towards you with animosity and mistrust – your interest in the plant life and the world around you had seemed so odd after the destruction the rest of your people had caused, and he watched you intently for any signs that you meant to cause harm to the People. But those signs never come.

You were polite, interested in his culture, and awed by nature and Eywa all around. You even learned the language of the People, though admittedly with a heavy accent. It’s… more endearing than it should be.

It takes a while for him to realise that he’s watching you far more than he watches the other little demons that study his people. It gets even worse when you decide to practise your clumsy language skills with the clan – somehow, it leads to you targeting him. Not even his fiercest scowls seem to discourage your attempts to converse with him, and soon he finds himself honestly looking forward to seeing you, to speaking with you.

It is an illness. Some sort of infection that has taken hold in him since his injury in the war against the Sky People. That can be the only reason that he is more preoccupied with you than with the very real mating prospects he has among the People.

He has come to terms with it. At first, he kept his shameful little fixation to himself, but he’s never been the most subtle of men. Others soon notice the direction of his stares, the amount of time he spends with you, the way his ears flick and his tail coils whenever he’s around you.

Everyone, it seems, except you.

“Hello, little demon,” He murmurs as he approaches you one afternoon, his tail coiled low around his ankles.

You’re sitting close to the edge of the forest, beside one of the large anìheyu plants. All your silly little notebooks are surrounding you, and though your head is ducked as you sketch its likeness in your book, you look up when you hear his voice.

You laugh at his customary greeting, as unbothered by his gruff demeanour as ever. He is grateful that you are not offended; he has never been good at being soft, though he tries.

“Hey, big guy.” You call back, a wide smile beginning to spread across your face. “What are you up to?”

Tsu’tey’s fingers twitch. Your face may be alien, but your features are not so dissimilar from that of the Na’vi. He finds you… attractive, in your own way, though it pains him a little to admit it.

“I wished to join in on the hunt today,” He murmurs as he comes to a stop in front of you, “But Mo’at has forbidden it.”

He is still recovering from his wounds, and he has found himself with an enormous amount of free time to spend; courtesy of Mo’at, who has been borderline vicious in her vehemence that he rests from his duties to heal. It stings his pride, but he respects the Tsa’hik too much to question her orders.

Your eyes drop to his battle scars, and he finds himself flexing subconsciously under your gaze.

“That’s probably fair, right?” You ask, tilting your head. “You’re still healing-”

“I am still strong.” He interrupts, a little more forcefully than he had intended to. It’s important that you know that.

You just smile, little white teeth poking out as you bite at your lower lip. “I know that.”

That pleases him, and he rolls his shoulders back before sinking down into a crouch in front of you. Your eyes dart from his face to his torso to his legs and then back up again, and he feels his stung pride inflate under the weight of your shy gaze.

“I will not join the rest of the warriors on their hunt,” He murmurs, his gaze resting on your face as he tries to read every expression that flickers across it, “But I still wish to go on a hunt of my own. You.. are welcome to join me.”

You are difficult to read. You do not respond to his more coy flirtations; you never seem to notice when he communicates micro-expressions, his ears flicking back or the playful movements of his tail. And yet you perk up at his invitation, your eyes bright and interested as you carefully set your notes aside.

“Really?” You ask cautiously, your eyes flickering towards the longbow resting across his back.

When Tsu’tey just nods, you shove yourself to your feet with an eager little laugh. It feels like a weight is lifted off his shoulders at your acceptance of his offer – though he manages to keep his expression neutral, he can’t control the anticipatory little flick of his tail.

This is an opportunity he is eager to take advantage of; as he leads the way into the forest, he makes a point of keeping you in his sights at all times. You’re so small and useless, and it’s good to feel as though he can protect someone after his close brush with death.

Marching through the jungle is slow-going. You insist on stopping several times to peer at some of the plants that you’re curious about, and Tsu’tey just stands and waits each time. He wants to display his patience, though it’s admittedly never been one of his strongest virtues.

“Come, small one.” He says, his tail flicking impatiently even as he tries to accommodate your curiosity. Patience, he thinks to himself.

“What is this?” You ask in your broken Na’vi, your accent heavy and clumsy.

Tsu’tey’s ears twitch. He likes the sound of your stupid accent more than he should.

“Utral utu mauti,” He murmurs, stepping closer to you before saying in his own accented English, “Type of fruit tree.”

You make a soft sound of understanding, before nodding. “I’ve read about these! They grow utumauti fruit, right?”

Tsu’tey hums confirmation, though he’s not looking at the plant. He’s too busy watching your face.

“Come,” He murmurs, “You will watch me hunt.”

The two of you continue on through the jungle. Tsu’tey tracks prints, and you watch him. He adds more flourishes to his tracking and stalking than are entirely necessary; he is hyper-conscious under your curious eyes.

You are so much smaller than him, barely reaching his navel, so he keeps his pace slow and even to ensure you can keep up with him.

When the two of you finally catch up to a wild yerik, luckily separated from the herd, Tsu’tey feels his heart beating eagerly in his chest. This is a chance to display his physical prowess. To prove that even injured, he is a fearsome warrior and hunter.

Your eyes are trained on him as he nocks an arrow and prepares to loose. Your gaze trails along his bicep and his chest, and he feels his pride flare all over again. When he looses the arrow, it finds its mark with ease.

He leaps from the cover of the trees and rushes to the fallen animal, snatching his knife from his waist and bending by the yerik’s head to murmur the customary words of thanks before ending the creature’s pain.

Cautiously, you step out after him and stare with wide eyes.

“Wow,” You murmur, stepping close to him. “It’s so big.”

The yerik is not so large or impressive as other prey, such as a talioang, yet your awe pleases Tsu’tey greatly. He can’t suppress the smug expression that grows across his face as he secures his prey with a rope to prepare to haul it back to the village.

He pauses halfway through tying a knot around the yerik’s middle so that he can look up to you, a self-satisfied sort of lazy smirk curling around his mouth. “I told you I am still strong.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of your mouth, and you avert your eyes all of a sudden. You’re staring down at your feet, your fingers fidgeting together, but he can see that your mouth is smiling.

“Yes,” You say quietly, “Very strong.”

That night, Tsu’tey’s catch is prepared and roasted over the cook fire alongside the catch from the larger hunt. The village is alight with celebration – the People sing and dance, children running around screaming with laughter and younglings leaping about together. The light-natured atmosphere is infectious, and Tsu’tey finds himself feeling more cautiously upbeat than he has in a while now.

“I should probably head back to the science outpost,” You mention at some point as the village fills with laughter and chat and the smell of succulent meat cooking. “I don’t want to intrude on-”

“Stay.” Tsu’tey interrupts without thinking.

You pause, obviously surprised. He’s been most outspoken about how the small demons should not be allowed to intrude upon the People’s customs or private rituals. No doubt you’re confused by his sudden change of heart – he can’t explain it himself.

But you agree, a tentative smile blooming across your face.

Tsu’tey is not oblivious to the glances that the two of you get as he settles next to you – you’ve chosen to sit a little bit away from the large fire around which the rest of the tribe gathers. No doubt you feel self-conscious of the fact that you don’t belong here, but Tsu’tey is feeling bold tonight. He is content as he settles next to you, despite the curious glances he receives from his People.

In his hands, he carries two portions of yerik meat from his kill wrapped in a leaf – it is a wholesome, healthy meal, and he hands a portion to you with a pleased flick of his tail.

You accept your portion politely, but he notices that you don’t immediately move to eat it. Instead, you spend a moment peering at it as though inspecting the meat carefully.

The longer you go without trying the food he has caught for you, the more antsy he becomes. He bites into his own dinner, casting frequent sideways glances your way as he chews. Was it not cooked to your taste? Did you not like the way it was wrapped in the leaf? Was it the meat itself that was the problem? Perhaps you didn’t even like yerik meat. Was this your way of turning him down?

“You do not like it?” He asks at last, unable to contain himself any longer.

You look up at that, apparently a little startled. “No! I mean, yes! I like it just fine!”

And yet, you haven’t touched it.

Too late, Tsu’tey realises that you’re still wearing your strange face covering that you need to breathe. Ah, how foolish of him. You aren’t able to take it off to eat.

Embarrassed now, Tsu’tey feels his ears flatten back. It was an obvious oversight on his part, a stupid mistake. How could he not have anticipated this problem? Such a mistake makes him look inconsiderate.

“Ah. Your face covering-” He begins, but he doesn’t get the chance to finish.

“No big deal!” You blurt hastily, sitting up straighter.

You’re so much smaller than him, dwarfed by his stature as you blink up at him. The size difference is going to Tsu’tey’s head – he can’t stop looking at the way your much smaller hands are wrapped around your food, at the way you’ve pressed a little closer to him.

He watches as you rip some of the meat out with your fingers, before taking a deep breath. You push the mask up for just a second, just long enough to push the food into your mouth before quickly reattaching the mask over your face again. Through the strange clear material protecting your face, Tsu’tey watches as you chew. The sight settles something inside of him, and some of the tension leaks out of his shoulders as he watches you eat his offering.

He’s not the only one watching you eat. The sight of him offering you food, and of you accepting it, has caught the attention of several members of the clan. The connotations are obvious, whether Tsu’tey chooses to think about them or not – if the sight of one of the clan’s foremost warriors participating in tentative courtship rituals with a Sky Person is shocking or disturbing in any way, they hide it well. It’s mainly surprised curiosity in the eyes of their observers.

“It’s good.” You murmur, sending him a quick smile. “The spices are different from anything I’m used to – it’s interesting.”

Tsu’tey’s tail lashes with gratification, satisfied with your acceptance of his advances. He should have known you would be interested in the spices used to cook the food, too. You’re such a curious little thing, always wanting to learn more. Your intelligence is commendable, and sets you apart from the rest of the tawtute.

You take another few bites of food, stuffing little handfuls under your mask quickly before replacing it back. Tsu’tey feels his chest puff the more you eat, his pride assuaged by the sight.

“You are hungry?” He asks, ducking his head a little closer to you. “You would like more?”

“No,” You murmur, but you give him a soft smile to soften your refusal. “Thank you. This is plenty.”

Tsu’tey settles back, his tail flicking in contentment. You may be a little demon that came from the sky, but having you sit huddled at his side eases the knot in his stomach that’s been present since his injury. He tries not to think too much about it.

A quick glance around shows that the eyes that had been watching them have shifted away, and he relaxes a little further. It’s mortifying enough to be offering such advances to a tawtute without the eyes of the clan watching.

You cough, and clear your throat. The sound draws his attention back to you, his eyes flickering carefully over your face. You appear a little flustered, and his brow draws down in a frown.

“What is wrong?” He asks carefully, narrowing his eyes as he watches you.

“Nothing.” You say hastily, but he sees the way you shift next to him. Your expression has changed a little, but he can’t quite interpret it. You lack the long ears and tail of the Na’vi, and so he finds it difficult to analyse your micro-expressions, but even still he can tell that something has changed.

“Tell me.” He demands, shifting to face you head on. “I will fix.”

You smile at him again, but this one seems more forced. It’s almost a grimace. Your hand moves to your stomach, and he follows the motion with a frown.

“It’s nothing, I just…” You wince. “It didn’t occur to me before, but.. I’m not sure how well humans can digest Pandoran meat.”

Tsu’tey’s frown only deepens. “I do not know this word. Digest. What does it mean?”

“It-” You begin, but you cut yourself off as an odd tremor moves across your face.

In a move that startles him into rearing back, you leap to your feet and make a run for the woods. It only takes a moment for Tsu’tey to recover from his surprise, and then he pushes himself up to his feet too. Ignoring the heads that have turned in his direction thanks to the commotion, he takes off after you.

It doesn’t take much effort to catch up to you, considering the difference in the size of your legs. You’ve only just managed to reach the treeline before falling to your knees, and by the time he catches up to you, you’ve torn your breathing mask off to allow you to retch into the vegetation.

Tsu’tey’s ears flick back, watching uneasily as you vomit. He has never been very good at providing comfort, but he reaches out to touch your shoulder all the same.

You retch again, then fumble to put your mask back on so you can breathe.

“Oh no, don’t look at me,” You practically wail, ducking your head down so he can’t see your face. “This is so humiliating.”

“What is wrong?” Tsu’tey asks insistently, lowering himself to crouch beside you as his tail twitches anxiously. “I will call for Mo’at-”

“Don’t you dare!” You gasp, reaching back blindly to grab at him even as you gag again.

Tsu’tey bares his teeth in frustration, growing increasingly more restless. He hates feeling helpless, and he doesn’t understand what is happening with you. “You are sick.”

“No,” You gasp. The worst of the gagging seems to be over, and you push yourself back to sit clumsily on your behind. “No, it was just… I don’t think Pandoran food is compatible with human digestive systems.”

His tail flicks again as he watches you, growing uneasy. “What does this mean?”

“I can’t eat the same food as you.” You say, before ducking your head and groaning a little as another wave of nausea hits you.

Tsu’tey goes still, watching you close your eyes and wince. The food he had provided you with has made you ill. Humiliation settles low in his stomach. So this is why you were reluctant to try it – you were unsure if it was safe for you to eat.

His attempt to impress you has ended up making you sick. The only thing that saves him from total disgrace is the fact that you’re very visibly flustered and apologetic about it.

“I’m sorry,” You insist, clearly mortified as you raise your head to squint at him through streaming eyes. “Really, it was very nice-!”

His ears twitch low and his tail wrapped tightly around his leg in contrition. “I did not know-”

“I know you didn’t,” You interrupt hastily. It’s clear that you feel thoroughly embarrassed about the situation – you can hardly meet his eyes. “Please, don’t worry about it.”

Your reassurance helps, but only slightly. He still feels entirely humiliated, and he watches with dismay as you finally push yourself to your feet.

“I think,” You begin without making eye contact, “That I should probably get back to the outpost.”

His stomach plummets, and his pride with it. This has gone so terribly wrong. He’s not even really sure what he was trying to do here – what was he even thinking?

“Yes.” He says stiffly. “You should.”

Your expression shifts a little, and you nod. The air between you both has changed slightly; gone was the easy camaraderie that you have both worked so hard on for the past few months, to be replaced with an awkward tension.

“I’m sorry,” You say again, your voice low and embarrassed. “I.. the meat was very nice. Thank you. I’m sorry about… you know.”

That… is slightly more promising.

Tsu’tey stands, then reaches down to offer his hand to help you. For a moment, you just stare at his outstretched hand as though you can’t figure out what he’s doing. He draws on his patience, and is rewarded for it when you reach out and take his hand, allowing him to guide you back to your feet. Your palm is warm and dry against his, your hand so small and soft that he gets momentarily distracted.

You smile at him again, and finally this one seems more genuine, though it’s a little abashed. Tsu’tey’s ears flick towards you cautiously, testingly, and you keep smiling.The knot in his stomach loosens a little.

Perhaps his chances aren’t entirely decimated after all. Next time, he will try gift-giving instead.

#tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey #tsu'tey imagines #avatar #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x human #terato #avatar 2009

4K notes · View notes

pianokantzart · 1 year

Text

The Dog Scene from The Super Mario Brothers Movie

Thank you @scribeprotra for permitting me to unleash this. Followup to this post: X

First of all, this scene is the first time we get to see Mario do actual plumbing, and it establishes that this business isn’t just a pipe dream (ha ha). Mario is actually a really skilled plumber. He sees the problem, knows what to do in an instant, and wraps it all up in less than a minute. So later, when all of Brooklyn is flooded, and Mario laughs that the hired workers “aren’t even looking in the right place”, we can believe he knows what he’s talking about.

Then, comes trouble: Francis The Dog, Mario and Luigi’s first real adversary... a kind of tutorial boss fight. Foreman Spike was antagonistic, but he was all talk. He would bully, threaten, and get aggressive, but he wasn’t going to throw the first punch. Francis, however, is out for blood.

We see an echo of what happened earlier when they confronted Spike. Mario stands between Luigi and danger, pushing him back, ready to defend him. However, unlike Spike, Francis doesn’t walk away, he goes for the throat, and it throws both brothers off kilter.

Luigi, while anxious and fearful, proves he’s not a man of mindless panic. When Francis comes at him he’s yelling for Mario’s help, but he himself is climbing to higher ground while grabbing the nearest available object (a toilet brush) to defend himself. This pattern continues for the rest of the movie: though he isn’t much of a fighter, his survival instincts are quite good.

Mario, on the other hand, immediately turns combative when Francis goes after Luigi. He draws the dog’s attention, and they skirmish for a bit before Mario finally seals Francis off inside the shower. Mario is not exactly a warrior yet, but he definitely has good fighting instincts.

Of course, let’s not forget Luigi holding off the jet of water with the mirror foreshadowing him holding back Bowser’s flames with the manhole cover. That’s been talked about before... I want to talk about THIS shot:

Mario is holding out a wrench like a sword, Luigi is holding up the mirror like a shield. That is them in a nutshell, and why they work so well together: they are sword and shield, offense and defense, impulse and caution, working together to balance each other out.

When Francis leaps at them, they instinctually hold on to each other for dear life, but still manage to duck out of the way at just the right moment as the dog accidentally flings himself out the window behind them.

Despite the dog being a violent threat, he is also a beloved pet to the homeowners. So what does Mario do? He throws himself out the window after Francis.

He trusts Luigi won’t let him fall, and he doesn’t. There was no time for a plan to be discussed, they were simply on the same wavelength.

IN CONCLUSION: The dog scene is what introduces the audience to the very different ways Mario and Luigi react to danger. It also shows us how tight their bond is, and why they work off each other so well, even beyond the emotional support they provide each other. The one downside is that the scene hints at a really cool fighting dynamic that we didn’t have time to properly explore in the film. The next time Mario and Luigi are fighting side by side they’re effortlessly mowing down enemies with the power star, and the sword-shield dynamic is lost. But I’m very excited to see the future of how they work as a team now that we’ve established the setting and set the two up to become heroes.

#mario movie #mario movie spoilers #mario #luigi #mario movie analysis #wake up new essay just dropped #super mario brothers #super mario bros #super mario brothers movie

1K notes · View notes

zazter-den · 7 months

Text

Foul-Mouthed Frit | Stained Glass Circumstances Ch. 1

Series: Snippet #1, Snippet #2, Current

Synopsis- All stained glass begins as frit, but you're not as frit of the warrior in front of you as you probably should be.(Main Scene: Bakugou, Aftercare: Kirishima).

Warnings- Coerced NonCon, Oral Knotting, CumVom, Choking, Clothes Tearing, Degradation, Overstim, Org Denial, Slap(giving), Forced Bond, King/Consort Dynamic, Alt A/B/O, Yandere Bakugou.

Tags- Fantasy AU, BarbarianKing!Bakugou, Dragon!Kirishima, KingConsort!Reader, Black Haired Reader, Isekai, Creampie, Chin Grab, Excessive Seed, Aftercare.

Word Count- 7700, Chapter 1

Your heart thumped against your ribs, unease and curiosity battling it out, as you stood before the imposing blond warrior. On a good day, you couldn't help but feel out of place in the simple hand-me-down dress, a one of few mercies you received from the cold villagers when you arrived. Standing here in front of the decorated barbarian within the confines of the grandiose war tent, you felt dressed in little more than rags. Was this man here to finish the villager's sad attempt at uprising? Surely non-lethal injuries to a handful of soldiers, even if severe, didn't warrant a general's (or whoever's) presence.

Why am I here? I wasn't even involved.

The bodice of the scratchy dress felt nearly too tight to breathe, a physical pressure to match the growing weight of dread settling in your bones. It had been a month since your watery arrival to this world, but it hadn't taken long to miss your modern clothes, modern stressors, and the familiarity of home. A pang of longing shot through you like a static shock, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the intimidating figure ahead.

A shiver ran down your spine as you met the blond's piercing blood red gaze. His throne, made from the bones of fallen beasts long dead and a patterned patchwork of leather, only amplified the imposing aura surrounding him. With each passing moment, you couldn't help but feel like a small, insignificant creature in the presence of a predator.

"Pint-sized for a dragon, aren't ya?" the barbarian growled, his gruff voice boomed in the tense silence, tone heavy with amused disdain. A predatory smirk adorned his face, highlighting his intimidating yet undeniably attractive features. "You're quite the fuckin' anomaly."

Your eyes widened at his words, and for a moment you forgot your unease. You had become so used to the weight by this point that you honestly almost forgot. A hand instinctively went to touch the base of the draconic crystal horns that jutted back from your hairline, a bizzarre feature you had woken to on the lake shore, a side effect of the magic that had forced your entry to this unfamiliar world.

All of the lakeside villagers were human, but you had learned enough about this world's inhabitants to know that that you weren't a true dragon like the ones the citizens of this realm were familiar with—those with wings, a tail, and true dragon features. You are, at your core, still human, and really the horns were the only evidence to suggest otherwise. The asshole wasn't entirely wrong in calling you a mystery.

"Can tell you're no real dragon, some sorta bastard maybe" he remarked, rumbly voice smug. "Though I admit, those crystal horns of yours are intriguing 'nough. You'll pass as an addition to my collection."

You blinked once, twice, as you struggled for a mere second to process the words coming out of the pompous man's mouth before time seemed to resume again.

Should you have been scared? Probably.

But you weren't.

Your eyes narrowed to near slits with incredulity as you peered up at him. White hot anger filled your veins, fear of the undoubtedly dangerous strange warrior forgotten. Being a newcomer to the realm, you couldn't quite comprehend the gravity of the situation in standing before the man in front of you. Being an outsider to the village and their rebellion, also meant you weren't aware yet just how low cowards will sink to save their own skin.

" 'Collection'? " You repeated, scoffing loudly at his arrogance. The gall of him had your nerves shot and common sense short circuiting. All pretenses of appearing as a polite peasant were now firmly out the window, all bets were off. After a month of biting your tongue to rude villagers as you struggled to adjust to your new life, it felt amazing to spit exactly what you were thinking. "Who the fuck do you think you are, blondie?”

The fair haired barbarian's grin only widened at your boldness, relishing the rare occurance. It wasn't often someone had a big enough death wish to challenge him face to face.

"O, sweetheart, not just any 'blondie'," he sneered, weighing the weight his words had on you. "I'm yer fuckin' king." Enjoying the way shock washed over your face, anger clearly forgotten, overshadowed by the realization that you were standing before the most dangerous man in the kingdom.

King Bakugou's amusement was evident as he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction at your dumbstruck face. "D'ya wanna know why you're standin' in front of me?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "They offered ya to me, little anomaly," the barbaric royal continued, the corners of his lips curling into a cruel smile. "A barter for their miserable lives after a pitiful 'scuse of a rebellion."

You were shocked, your eyes meeting his with furious disbelief. "So, people I barely know, GAVE me to you to spare themselves?" your words were laced with anger and a sense of betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of their craven desperation. Sure, they were cold to strangers, but to sacrifice you for their own lives wasn't something you had thought was even a possibility. Had it really been so foolish to want to believe they were finally warming up to you?

The barbarian king's expression hardened as he replied, his voice laced with a sharp edge. "Ya should feel honored," he snapped, his blood red eyes narrowing. Rising from his intimidating throne of giant bone and beast hide, he closed the distance between them with a purposeful stride. The sound of his heavy boots thudded against the packed ground within the war tent until he loomed over you.

“I rarely take consorts,” King Bakugou's hand shot out and firmly grasped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his piercing gaze. His touch was harsh, a firm reminder of the physical might that Bakugou wielded when he so chose. Your heart pounding in your chest as his fingernails dug into your jawline. Leaning in close, his face mere inches away from yours, his voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble as he continued speaking. “especially not runt freaks like you." The disdain in the cold blooded king's tone sent a chill down your spine.

Your heart dropped, The weight of the revelation pressed heavy against your chest. Mind racing with anger and betrayal as you grappled with the harsh reality of your situation. You had only been in this unfamiliar realm for barely a few weeks and now you stood before the formidable barbarian king, a man who held the power of life and death over countless warriors and civilians alike.

It didn't take years of education, or really much common sense, to know the dangerous consequences of defying a medieval tyrant. You knew you had to keep your anger in check, to try to bite your tongue and submit. At least for now.

Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped into that fucking tent, and survival was now officially the priority.

King Bakugou's sadistic enjoyment of the situation was plain as he ruthlessly analyzed your appearance, his gaze lingering on the translucent crystal horns with an almost dismissive glance. "Yer horns are clear, nothin' special," he remarked, his voice dripping with annoyance. It was clear that your unique crystalline features held little significance in his opinion. However, as his eyes roamed down your body, a more sinister gleam sparked within them.

"Body, on the other hand, is fine enough for a concubine," the blond added with a twisted smirk, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. The shift of the dress' neckline sent a shiver down your spine, baring your shoulder to his inspection. Your heart beat faster as King Bakugou's piercing eyes bore into you, his actions invasive and dehumanizing. Your throat constricted in response to the humiliating position you found yourself in. Even having to resist the urge to pull your chin away from his grasp, knowing that defiance would only lead to suffering of some variety.

His eyes swept over your neck and shoulder, searching for any sign of a scar, any indication that you already belonged to another. You kept your gaze to the side, unnerved by the intensity of his bloody stare, a shiver rippled down your spine as his touch almost seemed to burn your skin.

"Good," he declared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as his hot breath ghosting over the exposed skin. "No claim."

King Bakugou wasted no time in closing the remaining distance. Swiftly leaning down, he sank his canines into the smooth flesh with a forceful bite. However, unlike true mating, the barbaric blond did not release the necessary venom that would solidify an actual bond between souls.

The lack of numbing venom caused a sharp hiss to escape your lips, a mix of agony and indignation flooding your system. You might not have been here long and you certainly were no expert, but you knew the basics of mating marks, this world's lifelong courtship. It was a deliberate move, a clear reinforcement that he had no intentions of making you his equal partner in this arrangement. After all, you were merely a plaything, to be toyed with. You should be thankful not to be bound to the barbarian's soul, and yet you couldn't ignore the obvious insult. Or the pain.

The unexpected stabbing pain of fang sinking into flesh triggered a reflexive response, causing you to shove and slap Bakugou's face in a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grasp. The crack of your palm connecting with his cheek seemed to echo in the massive war tent, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake and a streak of crimson trailing down the king's chin.

The barbarian's eyes glowed with fierce delight, his feral nature taking enjoyment in the defiance of his new concubine. Despite the stinging pain in his cheek and the split in the corner of his upper lip from the strike, a low chuckle escaped King Bakugou's lips. "You've got guts, shitty horns, I'll give ya that much" he growled, his voice laced with a dark amusement as his tongue flicked over his split lip.

If you thought your heart was racing before, it certainly paled to the drumbeat it was pounding now.

You had dared to challenge the king, to strike him in a moment of instinct. If the tyrant himself marched to this village over a few maimed soldiers, what exactly was your punishment going to be? A part of you regretted the impulsive action, aware that it would only fuel the bestial nature of the tyrant and likely add to your own suffering...But another part of you couldn't suppress the thrill that surged through you when you slapped the shit out of him. You might be trapped in this new situation but you refused to be completely meek, cowering at his feet.

You would submit. But only as much as you had to.

As King Bakugou's wicked chuckle echoed in the confines of the tent, he swiped away the droplets of blood that trickled down his split lip, relishing in the taste. "Spirited whore, ha?" he continued with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You'll learn. 'Til then, I'm gonna enjoy breaking that attitude of yours."

Your breathing grew shallow as you just stared at the king, mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You knew full well that true defiance would only bring more challenges, but still a small ember of resistance burned. You would not surrender completely, no matter the threat. And even bolstered with the courage of the dissociative haze that emotionally numbed you to the consequences of your actions, you still knew the danger was very real.

The red glistening imprint of his bite marked your delicate skin, a reminder of his sadistic tendencies and the cruel pleasure he derived from such acts. Your body trembled in frustration, mind grappling with the complex storm of emotions that threatened to take over reason. You may have to play the role forced on you but you would bide your time, until the opportunity presented itself.

And so began the balancing act.

"Your position, in this territory," the warrior king continued, his voice dripping with gruff superiority, "is t'be at my beck and call. You exist to serve my needs now, like any other fuckin' whore. An' rest assured, you will serve me well." With those words, he spun you around and pressed your abdomen hard against the tent's solid wood table, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

"Lemme show you your new role," Bakugou sneered, voice filled with dark promise. With one swift motion, he pulled the rough dress up to rest on your hips, baring your body to his gaze. His eyes hungrily took in your curves, his fingers ran up the exposed skin of your thighs and hips. Feeling his rough fingers trail over the sensitive areas of your thighs, you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity of the touch.

The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as King Bakugou ripped apart the too-tight bodice, buttons popping off as your breasts spilled free from the barely reinforced fabric. His knees pressed painfully firm against the back of yours, effortlessly spreading your shaky legs apart. The motion trapped your hips against the edge of the table and exposed your pussy to to his gaze. Breath hitched as you felt the large tip of his hardened cock pressing against your slick entrance. Every inch of your body tensed. Judging from the thickness of his head alone, the lean warrior was larger than you expected him to be. Bakugou's girth tested your cunt's limits, forced to stretch wide. Initial entry was rough, inch by inch, as your pussy's tight walls struggled to accommodate the impressive length of the barbaric king's dick. The pleasurable ache making you fight to maintain composure.

Leaning forward on your forearms for support, your chest squished against the cold surface of the table. Fingernails dug into the smooth wood, your knuckles turning white with each of Bakugou's punishing thrusts. An unexpected surge of arousal coursed through your veins, and you decided to embrace the inevitable pleasure that his pace promised to bring.

Despite your feelings on the turn of events, your body responded to his coarse treatment, for the distracting orgasm and mind-numbing hormones that lay tantalizingly within reach. Determined to find some semblance of pleasure within your new prison, you forced yourself to shift your perspective. If you were going to be forced to be an object of desire, you may as well revel in the physical gratification it offered and claw back any benefit you could until you made your move.

As the table rocked against the packed dirt floor of the tent with each forceful thrust, the warrior royal couldn't resist mocking you. His voice was filled sadistic amusement. "Where'd all that fire go?" he taunted, amused by the contrast between your previous defiance and your current submissive state. "Don't tell me I already fucked it out of ya."

Your aching walls had struggled to accommodate his girth initially, causing you to tense up. You had to focus on consciously relaxing your body, allowing him to fuck you with more ease. The mixture of discomfort and increasing pleasure sent waves of heat coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal. At this point, you couldn't tell whether the fact that rough sex made your cunt leak like a faucet was a pro or a con.

You really couldn't help but snap back, voice loaded with a defiant edge. "You really like the sound of your own voice, huh, 'Your Highness'?" you quipped harshly, rolling your eyes knowing he would be unable to see, as you were swept up by the overwhelming pleasure of being fucked against the table.

Undeterred by your attempt at disrespect, Bakugou leaned forward over your bare back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The warrior king's voice dripped with amusement as he addressed your lack of fear. "You're really not scared of me, are ya?" the blond chuckled sharply, the feeling of his hot breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Give it time," he sneered, his grip on your erect nipples tightening as he pinched and pulled. With a choked moan, your body arched instinctively in response, a symphony of conflicting sensations flooding your body.

Your black curls bounced with each punishing thrust, your body pressed against the dull edge of the table, the hard surface digging into your hips with a force that promised to leave bruised reminders of your afternoon in the days to come. The brutal intensity behind Bakugou's movements overwhelmed you, leaving you breathless and at his mercy.

Just when you thought you had found a rhythm, just when you though you were getting close to finally cumming- the royal bastard abruptly withdrew, his cock's sizeable head dragging along the walls of your dripping passage. A soft indignant gasp escaped your lips as the sudden emptiness left you yearning for release. Inner walls involuntarily clenched in a futile attempt to hold onto the fleeting pleasure, not that you would ever admit it out loud.

He took a moment to enjoy your needy frustration before thrusting back inside with renewed intensity. Each powerful movement caused your body to arch and quiver in response, teetering on the razor's edge between ecstasy and torment. Despite the lingering defiance in your heart, your cunt betrayed you, subconsciously craving the pleasure that Bakugou pounded into you. The aching bite at the junction of your neck felt hot, as your nipples squeezed between his vice-like fingers.

Your walls eagerly embraced the renewed pounding, tightening around him in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pleasure he provided. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, sparking sensations that threatened to consume entirely. As the table creaked under the combined weight, your gasps and moans filled the air, merging with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and groaning wood. The intensity of the king's pace, each thrust pushing you closer to cumming around the thick cock slamming in and out of your needy hole.

As your body neared the peak of pleasure, King Bakugou enjoyed the control he had over you, keeping that orgasm just out of reach. Each time you felt the pleasure building within you reach that breaking point, he would cruelly withdraw, denying you much needed relief. The frustration reached a boiling point,as your walls involuntarily clenched desperately around the thick ridge of his cockhead in a feeble attempt to keep it inside.

"Stop fucking teasing me!" you shot over your shoulder in irritation. The pleasure that coursed through your veins was distracting, clouding your mind and amplifying your need to cum. The denial of your orgasm left you on the edge in what felt like a perpetual state of yearning, body aching for the release that the feral blond held in his cruel grasp.

As King Bakugou repositioned himself, angling his thrusts to target your most sensitive spots, and the pleasurable torment of denial continued. The conflicting sensations pushed you further towards either heaven or hell. With how your legs trembled with both the overstimulation of your poor pussy's stretched walls and the unbearable need to cum, you weren't sure which you were closer to.

"Ha? Think ya forgot who serves who here," bloody eyes narrowing as he sneered, his arrogant tone held an unrestrained hunger. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he drank in your frustration. He took great sadistic pleasure in this game. Knowing that, despite your protests, he had the power to bring you to the edge of cumming and keep. You. Trapped. There.

As the twisted dance between pleasure and denial continued, your body reacted eagerly to every movement, cunt walls fluttering near constantly in desperate need of fulfillment. Each time King Bakugou withdrew, your inner muscles clenched around the massive disappearing tip, another futile attempt to hold onto the pleasure that slipped through your grasp.

Wet, squelching sounds filled the air as he pounded back into your gushing pussy. The table beneath you was sticky with your juices, and his blood red gaze spotted a string of viscous slick suspended mid-air between the edge of the table and the packed dirt floor below.

With each turn of Bakugou's cruel cycle, a symphony of profanity spilled from your parted lips. Your body shook with the weight of unfulfilled lust, aching for the relief that seemed cruelly just out of reach. The rise and fall of your emotions danced in harmony with the motion of their bodies, humiliating frustration fueling your foul mouthed whimpers.

"'N fact," Bakugou laughed, gruff voice filled with sadistic glee, "I think that tongue o' yours has earned ya a punishment."

The barbarian's fingers curled around your quartz horns, his grip possessive and firm. As his grip tightened, you barely felt the dull ache spreading from the base of your horns through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation. The strain on your neck was evident, your head tilted back to reveal the garnet red bite print marring your exposed skin.

With a deliberate slowness, King Bakugou pulled back on your crystalline horns, his hold firmly guiding you until your upper body was no longer supported by the table's wooden surface. Weakened by the cruel cycle of ecstasy and denial imposed on you, your legs trembled with the effort to remain upright. The shift in position caused a head rush as you fought to remain standing upright. Turns out, you wouldn't need to fight that battle for long.

Using your horns as a guide, Bakugou yanked you down to kneel before him. Obediently following his command, your weakened knees sunk against the hard packed dirt beneath you. The shift in posture brought about a new level of submission, body now positioned at his feet, ready to fulfill the king's desires.

Bakugou's massive member hung heavy above you, his imposing figure towering over as he peered down with cruel superiority. "Ever get your mouth washed out with soap?" he sneered, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

With a snarky retort already forming on the tip of your tongue, you opened your mouth to deliver a biting response. However, in that moment of distraction, the massive cock head shoved past your lips, the sudden intrusion catching you off-guard. A muffled gag sound escaped your throat, eyes widening in surprise as King Bakugou claimed your mouth with little mercy. Musk filled your senses, the unexpected violation left you momentarily stunned. Your eyes watered as you struggled to accommodate his size, jaw stretched to its limits while King Bakugou hissed in pleasure at the feel of your hot tongue against his dick.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, muffled by Bakugou's large cock as he took advantage of the opening you unwittingly provided and began to thrust. The rough motion caused your tongue to press against the underside of the massive member, tasting both of you. The initial shock gave way to a mix of conflicting sensations - humiliation, arousal, and a begrudging surrender.

Your throat constricted around the tip of his dick as you fought against your body's instinctive gag reflex. The taste of your combined arousal filled your mouth, the combination of his precum and your own slick coating your tongue with every thrust. With each attempt, guided by the iron grip he held on your crystalline horns, you managed to swallow a little more of his length, throat stretching in an attempt to accommodate his girth. The barbaric king's control remained unyielding. He roughly guided your movements with an unwavering grip on your horns, forcing the pace at which you took him deeper. The sight of your struggle only made him grip you tighter, setting a faster pace.

You looked good, all fuckdrunk at his feet, submitting to his desires without question.

With each inch you took down your throat, your breathing became increasingly labored. Your eyes flitted upwards as much as possible, trying to meet his gaze as you continued to obey his every command. Teary eyes pleaded for mercy, yearning for the release that was just out of reach, as you continued to let King Bakugou's thrust into your throat. Bakugou locked gazes with you. It wasn't that he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes, all watery and unfocused, but it didn't certainly have the outcome you were begging for. His pace sped up, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax.

Your eyes narrowed in confusion and as you felt a new ridge near the base of his cock begin to swell. It took you by surprise, lips forced to start to form an O-shape as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. You mumbled uselessly around the resulting barrier, only managing to press your tongue harder against the enlarged gland.

"Never seen an alpha before?" King Bakugou asked incredulously, the tone of his voice heavy with pompous amusement. "Ya really are a fuckin' freak, this'll be fun" he added, sadistically excited for the surprise in store for you.

The swelling knot created a tight seal against your teeth, effectively trapping your tongue in a frenzy of desperate, frantic movements. As his lust hit a peak, Bakugou looked down at you with dark satisfaction, the intensity of his gaze piercing into your very being. His words cut through the pounding of blood in your ears, his mean grin widening.

"Y're gonna want to breathe through your nose when ya can," he instructed as his hips started to stutter, cruel grin never faltering. "For the next ten minutes at least." He took great joy in the power he held over you, knowing full well the challenge he was about to present. His groans of pleasure were the only warning of his orgasm that you got besides the pulse of his knot, before waves of warm cum were cascading down your throat. You fought against the rising panic, you just needed to relax you told yourself. The taste of his seed flooded the back of your throat, your lips stretched around his swollen knot, as you braced yourself to endure the minutes to come.

Your breathing grew ragged as you tried to comply with the barbaric king's instruction, the pressure of his spurts down your throat sending your body into a state of sensory overload. Each surge of his cum filled the back of your mouth, forcing you to swallow to make room for more, so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. Nose pressed against the coarse, orange wires of his pubic hair, your breaths coming in short gasps as you struggled to find enough air.

Your sore throat bobbed with each gulp, lips sealed tightly around Bakugou's pulsing knot. You followed his instructions, taking quick breaths through flared nostrils whenever his spurts allowed a moment of respite. As you continued to swallow the seemingly never-ending load, your eyes watered and throat contracted around the royal's throbbing cock. Bakugou ran his thumb over your neck, tracing over the ridge his twitching cockhead made in your throat, causing you to choke and sputter, your reflexive gag wrapped around his dick.

The primal sounds of you gagging and swallowing seemed to fuel Bakugou, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he reveled in your struggle to regain control of your reflexes. He found the cruel game fun, knowing that you had to drink every single drop or be overwhelmed by the seed that filled your mouth. As the barbaric king rolled his hips, his cock milked one last time by your tight walls, the deflating knot slipped past your teeth with a squelching pop. You felt each inch slowly withdraw from your pained throat, eliciting a mix of both relief and a weird sense of emptiness. Your jaw ached from the strain, throat raw and bruised from the rough treatment. Cum dripped from your swollen lips, a shiny string dripping towards the ground between your knees.

You leaned back against the leg of the heavy table, body boneless and weak from the intense sex. Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, senses still reeling from the experience. The taste of his cum still lingered in your mouth, a reminder of of just how well you had performed your role.

His cruel grin twisted with satisfaction as he held your weak chin with his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your glassy gaze to meet his blood red eyes. The arrogance in his voice was evident as he spoke, his words laced with a mocking tone.

"You did well, little whore," King Bakugou taunted, "Maybe you'll last longer than the others." His words cut through you like a knife, a reminder of your place and his complete control over the situation.

And it only got worse.

Your stomach churned, the fullness from consuming the sheer volume of cum you did, mixed with the exhaustion and strain on your body. It was rapidly becoming too much to bear. The taste of his bitter seed lingered in your mouth, adding to the increasing waves of nausea that welled up. With shaky legs, you bolted towards the clean bucket next to the table, a hand clamped over your mouth. Face contorted in anguish as you reached it just in time, hunching over and emptying the viscous contents of your stomach into the wood container, a curtain of dark curls obscuring the action.

Wave after wave of white, thick cum splashed into the bucket. Your throat burned even more from the forceful expulsion, tears streaming down your face as you tried to catch your breath between stomach spasms and hiccups.

Meanwhile, Bakugou simply rolled his crimson eyes in annoyance. He watched with a scowl as you succumbed to the ill effects of being orally knotted for first time, his own sense of satisfaction completely unaffected. The king redressed himself in his leather breeches, his muscular chest displayed proudly. He made no move to help or console you, instead commenting with a disdainful tone

"Y're gonna have to get better at that," he sneered, his dissatisfaction with the newest addition to his collection clear as day. Without a backward glance, he exited the tent, leaving you seething with roiling resentment.

As you continued to glare daggers at his retreating back over the rim of the bucket, an unbreakable determination burned in your eyes. The interaction had further solidified your disdain for the barbarian king. One way or another, you swore to yourself, you were going to find a way to make that man miserable.

Bakugou made his way through the field, his strides thudding quickly across the field. His blood red eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the lush greenery and wind rustling through the grass and leaves. In the distance, he spotted Captain Kirishima, his towering figure standing tall on a hill overlooking the lake.

The captain of the king's guard, tall and muscular, wore his signature dark grey uniform adorned with a crimson cloak denoting his station. His mane of long, vibrant red hair cascaded down his back, and his curved ruby horns glinted in the late afternoon light. Nearing a staggering seven feet, Kirishima towered over most humans and dragons alike. With a languid stretch of his wings and tail, he looked every bit the formidable dragon he was. Even though his stature was imposing- off the battlefield, there was a softness to his facial features, a warmth in his scarlet eyes that contradicted his formidable appearance.

Stretching his wings and tail with a contented yawn, Kirishima paused mid-spread as he noticed his long time friend approaching. His scarlet eyes widened in alarmed confusion as he caught sight of the split upper lip on the king's face.

"What happened to your lip?" Kirishima asked baffled, his tail and wings still unintentionally frozen extended as he waited.

Bakugou's grin widened, his blood-red eyes shining with a mischievous glint. He licked his split upper lip, savoring the sting that still lingered from your bold and unexpected slap. The memory of the defiance brought a twisted satisfaction to the king.

"Hah! The village's 'peace offering' turned out fiesty" he responded, a hint of admiration laced within his tone. The fact that you had the audacity to strike him, the mighty Murder King Bakugou, had caught the barbarian off guard at the time, but it definitely made you more interesting.

Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his tail flicking. "They attacked you?" he asked taken aback, “Are they still breathing?” The captain knew that the barbaric ruler was not one to tolerate defiance easily, let alone physical attempts to challenge his authority. Kirishima's mind flooded with questions, but he kept them to himself as he awaited further explanation from his commanding king.

Bakugou's smug grin widened even further, his blood red eyes sparkling with perverse delight. "Oh, they're alive," he responded, his voice dripping with a sadistic satisfaction, "Just paying for their little outburst, that's all."

The words hung in the air, the implication clear. The king's tone hinted at the punishment the new consort was enduring in the privacy of the tent.

Although he hadn't yet met the new concubine, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy towards them. Having grown up with the royal, he knew firsthand the levels of wrath Bakugou could reach. Despite these conflicting emotions, Kirishima's primary concern was ensuring the well-being of those in the king's care, even if it meant treading carefully in the sea of Bakugou's own volatile temper. It often fell to the loyal captain to keep the king from committing actions he would regret later. Well, less regret and more inconvenience him.

"'n fact, you're on babysitting duty while I deal with the village," Bakugou said, the murderous glint in his bloody eyes betraying his enjoyment of the situation. The king's command echoed in Kirishima's ears, causing his ruby scaled tail to stiffen and his broad shoulders to tense.

Kirishima let out a silent exhale, disappointment etched across his face as he processed the news. In truth, he had hoped that Bakugou would choose to spare the villagers and seek a peaceful resolution instead of resorting to violence. The captain believed that the actions of a few rebels should not warrant bloodshed on such a scale. After all, the villagers had made multiple peace offerings to appease the barbaric king, it felt like a breach of honor for Bakugou to now go back on that agreement.

However, Kirishima knew better than to openly challenge his friend's authority. He respected the position Bakugou held and understood the consequences of rebellion. Biting his tongue, Kirishima buried his disappointment and gave a casual bow to his commanding ruler, before making his way towards the tent on the hilltop.

Kirishima stepped into the large tent, his unfurled wings brushing against the side as he entered. His wings, magnificent and majestic, spanned wide, their vibrant ruby scales shimmering under the soft glow of the tent's filtered light. The ruby scales continued down the length of his long, sinuous tail, adding a touch of elegance to his formidable presence.

As his fiery ruby eyes landed on you, Kirishima's first thought was one of surprise. The person who had struck King Bakugou looked a lot less imposing than he had anticipated. You, unlike the powerful and intimidating dragons Kirishima was used to, stood before him at a mere average human stature. If that. The only discernible dragon feature you possessed were the crystal dragon horns that adorned your head, gleaming subtly in the low lit tent. His scaled tail swayed slightly, displaying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your eyes widened as they met Kirishima's for the first time, and your body tensed instinctively. You had been thoroughly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, by your round with Bakugou. Your throat was raw and voice gone, leaving you unable to deliver the defiant expletives you desperately wanted to snarl at the imposing dragon that had just entered the tent. But your voice failed you, leaving you with only one avenue of expression.

With a fierce hiss, you expelled every ounce of ferocity you had left buried within. Your body tensed, lips curling back in a display of bare teeth. The hiss reverberated within the confines of the tent, a desperate attempt to communicate defiance to Kirishima, to convey that you would not be dominated or humiliated any further today.

The captain took a step back, scarlet eyes swept over your form, they couldn't help but notice the torn remnants of your bodice on the floor and the ripped dress clinging to your body. The rips and tears spoke volumes of the intense encounter you had undergone at the hands of King Bakugou. His gaze then landed on the mark that marred the delicate skin of your neck—an unmistakable claim.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mind reeling with the implications.

As a dragon, Kirishima understood the significance of such a bite - it bound two souls together, sealing their connection as life partners in a way that couldn't be severed. When done correctly.

Marking a consort with a claim without fully mating them was not unheard of, but it was generally met with extreme judgment. Claims in terms of mating were typically reserved for life partners, a commitment that extended beyond physical desire. Nobles, known for their fickle nature and ever-shifting loyalties, often chose to mark their consorts with more temporary symbols, such as collars.

The ornate collars allowed the royals to easily discard their concubines when they grew bored. The nobility were notorious for their fickleness and often left their consorts behind as they moved on to fresh pursuits. By marking a consort with a bite with no intention of making you an equal, Bakugou had not only defied what little merciful convention held by the upper class but also inflicted a cruel fate upon you in Kirishima's eyes. The mark would make it near impossible for you to find a true mate, forever branded as the king's property.

Kirishima couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment towards his lifelong friend. While he knew the barbarian ruler's tendencies on the battlefield, he hadn't thought Bakugou would exhibit such cruelty towards a consort, knowing you would likely be discarded at some point. Kirishima's own sense of honor and loyalty clashed with the conflicting emotions he felt, itching at the back of his mind as he observed the vulnerable state you found yourself in.

The captain's gaze lingered on your throat, noticing the subtle signs of strain and discomfort. The realization for the hissing aggression struck Kirishima like a bolt of lightning. You had lost your voice, and it wasn't due to natural causes or illness. No, it became clear to him that it was likely a result of your first tryst with King Bakugou, an experience that he could only imagine had been rough and brutal, throat rubbed raw from the repetitive acts demanded of you.

Feeling a surge of empathy, Captain Kirishima decided to ease the intimidating aura he unintentionally projected. He understood that his imposing stature must be overwhelming to you, given the turn of events. He folded his wings against his back, their vibrant red membranes pressed tightly together, confining their expansive span. The act served to minimize his physical presence, making him appear less threatening. He slouched slightly, adopting a more relaxed stance, and kept his hands visible, showing that he meant no harm. It was a deliberate display of non-aggression, aimed at putting you at ease, or at least as much at ease as one could be in such circumstances.

The red dragon's eyes softened as he noticed the weary look on your face. He could see the exhaustion etched into every line, body still trembling from the recent ordeals you had endured. Determined to offer some solace in this tumultuous situation, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

With slow deliberate steps, Kirishima moved away from you and towards a pile of chests near the entrance of the war tent. These chests contained spoils from the village, items meant to appease the king after their attack on his soldiers. Kirishima knew that among them, there was a chest filled with garments. Opening one of the chests, he carefully sifted through the contents until he found a fine yet simple dress that roughly matched your size.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kirishima's lips as he gently tossed the dress onto the table, positioning it between the tow of you. Its delicate fabric fluttering in the air before settling down over the wood. It was a small gesture, but meant to convey that he harbored no ill intentions.

It was a silent message that you deserved respect and dignity, even in this tumultuous situation.

Sensing that you needed some space to collect yourself and change, Kirishima took a much smaller chest from the pile. He left the tent, giving you room to breathe and reckon with the pent-up emotions that surely swirled like storm clouds.

As the cool mountain breeze blew through his hair, Kirishima found a suitable spot a few paces from the tent, overlooking the serene lake in the warm hues of late afternoon light. With deftness and precision, he constructed a small firepit, arranging the rocks in a circle. As the dragon exhaled softly, a gentle stream of fire escaped his lips, the light glinting off his curved ruby horns. The flickering flames danced and crackled, casting a comforting glow over the hilltop.

As the captain patiently waited for the water to heat, he glanced back towards the war tent, briefly catching sparkle of your horns through the opening. His heart went out to you. Though he understood the gravity of Bakugou's actions, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of responsibility in making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, despite the circumstances.

Just as the water in the kettle neared boiling, Kirishima activated his innate talent. His hands hardened, gaining an impressive durability that allowed him to handle the intense heat without harm. With a swift motion, he reached for the kettle, hands possessing the resilience of a dragon's scales. His grip was confident and steady as he effortlessly removed the kettle from the fire, preventing the water from boiling. He gently tossed the healing tea leaves into the kettle, watching as they swirled and danced in the near-boiling water. The soothing aroma of the tea began to waft through the air, carrying with it hints of delicate flowers and calming herbs.

With a careful hand, Kirishima reached into the tea chest, procuring a magnificent stained glass teacup that shimmered in hues of red and amber. Draconic stained glass was a rarity, prized for its strength and ethereal beauty. The light of the late sun cascaded through the vibrant colors, casting an enchanting glow on his hands.

Unwrapping the glass bottles, the captain uncorked the crystallized honey and yuzu peel. He slowly poured a generous amount of honey into the teacup, its golden texture illuminated by the sunlight. Next, he added a pinch of the fragrant dried yuzu peel, allowing its subtly sweet and citrusy scent to infuse the air. These ingredients held healing properties, meant to soothe and restore vitality to worn souls. The captain took extra care, ensuring that the precise balance of ingredients was met, creating a concoction that he hoped would bring some measure of comfort to your weary spirit.

With a quiet exhale, Kirishima patiently awaited the completion of the tea's steeping process. He hoped that the healing properties of the tea, combined with the warmth and tranquility of their surroundings, would provide a much-needed respite for your body and mind. In this moment of quiet reflection, he couldn't help but hope that this small act of kindness would bring some solace amidst the chaos that was now your new life in royal confines.

As the tantalizing fragrance of the healing tea filled the air, it didn't take long for you to emerge from the confines of the tent, eyes cautiously studying Kirishima's every move. Clad in the simple yet elegant dress he had provided you, features betraying a mix of cautious curiosity, before you fully exited the tent.

Scarlet eyes met yours as he poured the infused brew into the stained-glass teacup, the colors of the evening sun casting a mesmerizing glow through its amber and red hues. With a delicate touch, he extended the teacup towards you, his gentle gesture offering a sense of peace and comfort amongst the chaos.

Your gaze flickered between the beautiful teacup in Kirishima's hands and his eyes, wariness slowly giving way to a glimmer of trust. You lowered yourself onto the cushion placed by the fire, its warmth seeping through the fabric and into your tired body. Settling in, you positioned yourself to face the serene vista of the lake, where the calm waters mirrored the vibrant shades of the setting sun.

Kirishima, mindful of your nervous vigilance, kept his movements steady and reassuring. His hand extended further, confidently offering you the teacup of healing brew. The crimson colored light filtering through the stained glass seemed to dance and flicker as if carrying with it a promise of respite.

A soft smile tugged at Kirishima's lips as he spoke, his voice gentle yet filled with earnest sincerity. "Can we start over? I'm Captain Kirishima." In that simple statement, he hoped to convey that he was not just a guard but someone who, at their heart, genuinely cared. Someone who would listen and support you, should you choose to share your burdens.

He waited patiently, the teacup held delicately between the two of you, awaiting your response. In this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the lake and the tender offering of healing tea, he hoped that they could find a glimmer of solace and a fresh beginning.

IRL Safety Disclaimer: Never Pull A Partner Up By Their Hair Off of a Surface. You Will Injure Someone.

Taglist: @themythicaldisaster

Comments and Reblogs carry me through the week!

351 notes · View notes