#of throwing a tantrum over the fact that a child is simply having a day for whatever reason be it being overwhelmed

[sukibenders]

When I say I don't really like being around kids, it's because it comes from the same place of being around others, whether my age or older and just wanting to be alone due to getting overwhelmed easily. When some others say they don't like being around kids, they use it as a way to excuse their degradation towards little humans and attempt to strip them of basic human rights under the guise of "But animals are less annoying, so they should just be allowed to replace kids wherever." We are not the same.

[wheneclipsefalls]

heyy i love ur works sm, could u possibly write a fic like the one you wrote about Lo’ak in Unmoveable, but with Neteyam as the alpha and the reader as the bratty/dominant omega. (Preferably fem reader) Tysm!!

Pairing: Adult Alpha Neteyam x Olangi Princess Omega Reader

Summary: Princess or not, a spoiled brat like you needs to be put in her place. And since you have been given over to him now, Neteyam is more than ready to put that attitude in check.

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, explicit MDNI, aged up Neteyam, omegaverse, dom/sub dynamics. power imbalance, very talkative Neteyam, breast play, nipple clamps, anal, punishment, kidnapping/arranged marriage, swearing, etc.

A/N: Hi anon...you probably thought I was never going to fufill this request😆😅 Hopefully you are still online to see this

Adult Neteyam pic by Cinetrix

Unmovable for reference

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting.” You reply simply, folding your legs upon where you are perched on a nearby boulder. 

“Is that so?” One of Neteyam’s hairless brows curves upwards into an unusual expression as he places his hands on his hips. You shrug it off as morphed social skills he has picked up, a consequence of living with Sky People. You don’t let it ruffle your feathers. 

“Yes. Soon you will have left and I will finally have some peace before my clan comes to get me.” You supply the information with a tilted chin and confidence oozing from every pore even as the towering alpha closes in on your space. 

“Your clan has given you to me, princess.” 

You refuse to meet the gaze that somehow manages to penetrate your defenses with a heated fire, contrary to his poised posture that emanates a relaxed grace. 

“An oversight on their part.” Your fingers interlock together and place on your lap. If he wants to put on a tough bravado why shouldn’t you? “Once they come to realize their mistake they will come to retrieve me. Until then, I wait.” 

However, waiting here may take more patience than you care to admit. The Olangi clan are known for their expertise as pa’li [direhorse] riders but even they may require a day or so to catch up to the point where Toruk Makto’s son has dragged you to. It's the furthest you have ever been from home. Consequently the first time you have seen the beautiful rolling grounds of the plains slowly transform into congested forest. 

You can only see a portion of the sky with these interlocking trees in the way. It pushes in on you like the bars of your enclosure, yet another representation of how trapped you have become in Neteyam’s grip. 

“I’m waiting too, paskalin [honey].” You shuffle slightly when he comes to sit beside you. The rich essence of his scent wraps around you in a vice-like grip. It has your inner omega running restless but you maintain a serene exterior. It wouldn’t be the first time an alpha has tried to rope you into submission with drifting pheromones. “In fact, we all are waiting.’ He gestures to the handful of Omatikaya warriors that have made the journey with him. They pretend to busy themselves with loading up pa’li that are already prepared. “Waiting for you to stop this tantrum of yours.” 

“Tantrum?” The word feels foreign on your tongue. 

“It means a child throwing a fit when they do not get their way.” 

“I am not a child!” You seethe, lips peeling back to reveal your pointed fangs. “I am a princess and-”

“And I am a prince.” Neteyam shrugs, cutting you off. “Yet neither of those titles mean anything out here.”

You scoff, allowing your hair to act as a protective curtain from his searing attention. A prince. What a laughable thought. A true prince does not drag a female away from her home with bound wrists and promises of mating. He has no right to call himself such a thing. 

Then again, your father calls himself Olo’eyktan yet he was the one that handed you over to the alpha. All for the promise of protection against the RDA. The Omatikaya could have asked for anything to seal the alliance between your two clans in battle but all that Neteyam had come to collect was you. 

Your father’s decision, however, could be forgiven in your eyes. He was doing what he thought was best for the people. His greatest error was believing Neteyam would be a suitable mate for you, for thinking that any alpha would be a good match for you after all that you’ve expressed against such a union. You are a free spirit. Despite your presentation as an omega you were never meant to live in an alpha’s shadows. 

“Look at me.” His voice is soft but firm. Another scoff of refusal is traveling up your throat but this time Neteyam doesn’t wait for you to follow his command. He captures your chin and forces you to turn and feel the weight of presence. It feels as if his alpha pheromones not only bleed into the space between you but also cinch around your throat like a claws. “I am your alpha now, your mate. That is the only title you should be focused on.” 

Neteyam is a strange alpha, that you have come to quickly realize. Where other alphas often raise their voices in demand for respect and submission he delivers his commands in the form of smooth purrs traveling down your spine. He uses force when necessary but never done rashly or out of anger, simply a tool to get you back to where he deems you should be. Among the other males there is no passive aggressive commentary or puffing of chests to remind them of rank. 

Instead he converses with them as old friends do. He leads the group in every sense of the word but it’s done with almost a playful hand as they laugh and make jokes with one another. And yet, after all of this backwards messaging, there is an air of dominance that laces his every move. He walks and talks with a relaxed expression as if he knows there is no need to prove himself. His supremacy is something that would not dare to be questioned. 

And somehow that comes off as higher snobbery than any other foolish alpha you’ve seen wrestle for your hand. 

“I don’t have an alpha. Nor will I ever.” With a tug your face is whipped from his hold. You manage to conceal the rush of heat to your cheeks by smoothly shifting your hair and facing away from him once more. “I suggest you accept that fact and stop wasting both of our time.”

Not a single bat of your eyes in his direction as you stare confidently ahead at the strange tree in front of you and wait to hear the party’s retreat. Instead your ears only catch the sound of a small sigh and shuffle before Neteyam is standing before you. 

“Come now, princess. It’s been fun but we still have ground to cover.” He reaches his hand out to help you up but you only gamble casting a glance at it from your peripheral vision. As far as you are concerned, Neteyam does not exist in your world. And so you treat him as such. 

“Neteyam!” A voice bellows across the distance. “We are losing daylight, brother. Are we set to travel?”

Neteyam doesn’t hesitate to send the other male a small smile before saying, “She is coming along now.”

“No I am not.” Your instant response is tainted with a gasp of offense. How dare he speak for you! “I am not moving from this rock until my clan comes to get me.” You insist, slapping his hand away. 

Neteyam remains unperturbed, simply giving a shrug before murmuring, “Have it your way then.” 

You aren’t afforded a second for a sense of victory to settle in before the prince is tossing you over his shoulder. Strongs arms wrap around the back of your thighs to keep you pinned there and decrease the range of motion for kicking. It doesn’t stop the gasp of outrage and pure spite that emanates from you. Limbs swinging in every which direction to deliver damage, you quickly resent the way his strength greatly overpowers your own. 

“I am not some fresh kill for you to carry home. Set me down right this instant!”

“I gave you the chance to walk over with dignity, princess. What else am I supposed to do?” He tries to retort but you can detect the grin in his voice. Even more humiliating, from your upside down position you are still able to spot the other males squirming to not laugh at your compromising position. 

“You are a mongrel of a man!” 

The scratchy venom of your tone is morphed into a surprised squeak when you are let back onto your feet. Regardless, you remain trapped in Neteyam’s arms as you are wedged between him and a pa’li. 

“Don’t waste your energy, tiyawn [love]. It will be at least a few more days before we reach Omatikaya soil.” 

They are surrounding you from every side. The five other males may wear amused expressions and appear to be enraptured in conversations with one another but you are no fool. These men are under Neteyam’s jurisdiction. At the first sign of trouble they will be snapping into action. Running now will only get you dragged back and fighting against Neteyam’s hold may get you flung into a humiliating position again. 

“At least let me have my own pa’li. I know how to ride.” 

Neteyam's chest heaves with the responding laugh that awakens within him. White pearly teeth on display, his amusement rises higher. Several of the others try and fail to not join in. It heightens your blood pressure until your face is hot to the touch.

“That’s a very good try, princess.” He beams, patting your hip. 

Neteyam unfortunately is not the fool you hope for him to be. Nor the arrogant alpha that would make the mistake of believing himself capable of catching you once you’ve set off on a pa’li. You’ve been riding since you were barely able to walk. The Omatikaya may understand the concept, but they hold not near the same precision and skill that your years of training have granted you. 

It’s a fact he seems acutely aware of because he doesn’t let you saddle up first. All it would take is a few seconds for you to make the bond and leave them in the dust. Instead, he hands you off to another male as he settles himself upon the creature and only after he has made the bond himself does he have you lifted to sit in front of him. 

By the time you settle around a fire for dinner and begin setting up camp, you can feel your eye on the verge of twitching. This journey has been nothing but painful and slow. So exceedingly slow. Although every step is one step further from your home that doesn’t erase the annoyance you feel at their painstaking pace. The only thing that stops you from snapping at them to hurry up is the hope that this extra time will help you come up with some sort of escape plan. 

It’s clear that your father’s remorse is far too sluggish for you to solely rely on at this rate, so it seems it is once again up to you to meet them halfway. 

However hatching up plans is exceedingly difficult when you have an alpha sculpted against your back, his essence clouding your mind and his eyes constantly peeking down at you as if he knows every thought swirling in your head. Try as you might, there is no reasonable way to veer away from his touch while riding the pa’li, at least not one that keeps you from developing excruciating back pain. 

Trying to set your inner turmoil aside, you focus on using this time away from the Omatikaya prince to properly set your head right. However, it seems Neteyam has different plans as he settles to lounge by the fire. He thanks one of the other males for a drink he is handed before his attention lands on you. 

“Come sit, princess.” He pats the spot beside him. There may be a warm smile to accompany his words but you know that it is nothing short of a command. The steely undertone of an alpha’s call reverberates in his tone. 

It locks your spine into a ramrod straight position and your tail already tries to tuck itself the longer you wait to obey. It’s irrelevant, however. You’ve become quite adept at pushing down your omega instincts in favor of following your own logic instead. 

With a smooth stroll and a feigned innocence to your smile, you maintain eye contact while making a show of sitting next to a different male across the fire. He’s a beta and your proximity immediately has him twitching. 

Neteyam’s golden eyes take on a darker hue, but he remains where he is. You’ve challenged his authority, in front of his men no less, but somehow you escape the night unscathed from his rath. Or so you think. 

It’s hard to say whether these sleeping arrangements are usual for the Omatikaya or rather just a setup meant for traveling. Either way, it is the most bizarre thing to sleep in a roll of fabric high up in the trees. Netyam claims it’s safer to stay off the ground during eclipse in the forest. A silly point truly when it’s just as dangerous, if not more likely, to turn over in your sleep and fall to your death. 

Climbing up to the hammock is all the more painful and terrifying than riding with Neteyam. He patiently trails behind, waiting and giving unwanted direction for your climb until you have finally cocooned yourself in the fabric. Still trembling but refusing to voice any complaints that could be mocked, you take a moment to catch your breath. 

That moment is exceedingly short.

The hammock suddenly swings and you look up to find the prince lowering himself down carefully from a branch above. 

“No no, absolutely not. This is my bed. Get out.” He chuckles as you try to push and swat at his muscular thighs but it’s no use when he is settled in the fabric a few seconds later. 

“Technically it is our bed.” 

“Then I will take my chances on the ground.” Your stomach somersaults at the thought of enduring the climb down. 

Comment ignored, Neteyam coaxes you to lay down before slipping himself behind you. You’re tempted to kick when he wraps an arm around your waist but the hammock is still swinging to a point of nausea. Best not to make it any worse. 

“You’re trembling, omega.” It’s murmured against the shell of your ear. There is no need to look down in order to confirm his assertion. How do the Omatikaya sleep peacefully up in the trees like this? You’ve never considered yourself to have a fear of heights but today has you questioning that assurance all together. 

“You look like you need someone to calm you down.” The palm of his right hand runs up and down the length of your arm, as if the transferring heat there would diminish your shivering. 

“What I need is a break from your pestering.” 

“I already gave you one.” His tale tickles at the back of your knee just as his accented voice deepens. “A break that I have still not received a thank you for.” 

“I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting, my prince.” You sneer. It wasn’t his decision to have you sit away from him during dinner. It was entirely your own and he is not about to receive acknowledgment as if he had any control over what you do. 

“I hope you know what you’re playing at, princess.” 

Those are the last words he speaks of the night and consequently the same ones that leave you restless and twitching. Sleeping like this is impossible. When you’re not worried about falling to your death you become acutely aware of every point of contact between you and Neteyam. His toned chest is like a bustling fire against your back. His tail at some point wraps around knee as if it belongs there. Even his silky ebony braids tickle at your neck, almost as bad as where his face tucks itself behind your ear. 

There is no forgetting who lays behind you. Sleep seems to never come because you are constantly trying to calm your raging heart and control the pheromones that threaten to slip into the air. That would wake him up far too easily. 

His breath is heavy, heartbeat consistent and strong from where it pounds against your back. You’ve been sure for a while now that he is fast asleep. Now is the time to make your move, but frozen you remain. Eventually you look down to find that your fingers have begun tracing the veins of his forearm as an anxious tick. 

Thank Eywa he seems to not wake up from the touch. Or perhaps it is the smooth caress that has coaxed him further into sleep. Either way, you hold very little hope of not only climbing down the trees without splitting your pretty head open but also doing so unnoticed. 

Sleep comes and goes along with the hours until waiting has wound you taunt. It is only a matter of time before the sun rises again and you’ve lost the window of opportunity. So with sweaty hands and a heart threatening to come up your throat, you cautiously slide yourself out from his hold. 

By some miracle it turns out that Neteyam is the deepest sleeper you have ever met, because even as the hammock sways from your climbing out, he simply lets out a sigh and turns his head further into the fabric. 

Scaling down the tree is a test in vigilance and patience. Every smooth breath you force yourself to take is a practice in these arts. Stubbornly you refuse to look down, knowing it will only bring forth nerve ridden mistakes. So with the pace of a snail you inch further and further down the trunk. 

You just need to make it to a pa’li.

That’s it. 

So close. So very close, you tell yourself, even as you know it’s a lie.

“What are you doing?”

Your breath catches in your throat, thighs tensing as you remember to still keep hold. Your muscles relax slightly, however, when you notice that the voice holds an Omatikaya accent but it is not Neteyam’s. The beta from dinner sits up in his hammock, eyes squinting at you through the darkness. Say the wrong thing and he is bound to sound the alarm. 

“You should not be out of bed.” He sighs. 

“I must relieve myself.” Biting your bottom lip you steer your features into confident defiance. “Or am I not allowed to do that too?”

The beta lets out a sigh and a curse you do not recognize. It must be part of the Sky People’s weird language. 

“Alright, I will assist you just wait for a moment.” 

“I don’t require an audience.” 

“But you do require supervision.” 

It’s difficult to argue when you remain clinging to a tree for dear life. So when the beta helps you make it down the tree foothold by foothold, there is nothing left in you to protest. Instead, you simply shift gears. 

“Be quick.” The male says, gesturing to a secluded spot behind thick bushes.

“It takes as long as it takes.” Head held high, you walk past him and into the bushes. Luckily the sounds of nocturnal creatures are loud enough to excuse why you are so silent in the bushes. Furthermore, it’s clear that male has at least some respect for your privacy as a woman when he doesn’t question again what takes you so long.

Those advantages aside, running now would still do you no good. He has steered the two of you further away from the pa’li and running on foot will only get you lost in this entanglement of greenery. And with a beta, one native to the area nonetheless, there is no chance of getting far. 

Lucky for you, there is always one sure fire way to disable a man without violence. 

“What did you say your name is again?” 

The beta straightens when you walk past him. 

“Um, I didn’t.” He picks up into a jog to catch up with your sudden retreat. Not a foot of space is granted between you two. He has grown suspicious. 

Shifting your long glossy hair over one shoulder, you look over at him with a subtle pout. “Well I don’t see how that’s fair. You know my name but I don’t know yours.” 

The beta doesn’t immediately melt at your softened composure like most males at home do. Rather he seems to clear his throat in discomfort before muttering out, “Ke’ve”

“Hm, Ke’ve.” You repeat back, as if savoring the taste of his name on your tongue. He’s nervous. No doubt, devoted to keeping his distance from the prince’s intended. There are ways to relax him, however. “Well Ke’ve, not every male is noble enough to lend his help in the middle of the night. You must know your presence has brought me great comfort out here.” 

His eyes scrunch but he doesn’t respond, perhaps unsure of what response would be safe. 

“You see,” With a sigh, you come to a halt. “I’m not very accustomed to feeling vulnerable. We are so far from home in a place I have never been but I still do not enjoy being seen as weak. So I wouldn’t admit this to anyone else but I feel as if I can trust you when I say,” You pause for dramatic effect and will tears to your eyes. “I’m scared.”

Were it an alpha, the essence of your fear would be enough to swoop you into their arms and make an oath of protection. Ke’ve on the other hand is a beta, so his response is more subtle. Yet just as promising when his expression falters and he looks on the verge of sighing again. 

“You are safe with us.” And as sure as the sun rises in the morning, so does that inevitable flash of concern spring forth. 

“I do feel safer with you.” Just a gentle brush of your fingers against his elbow. So subtle in wake of your shining vulnerability that he doesn’t shrug it off. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” 

A few stray pieces of hair fall over your cheek to frame your depiction of soft spoken innocence. You are perfectly poised like a flower ready to be picked, a delicate beauty that deserves to be protected at all costs. The same disposition that has had beta men falling at your feet time and time again. 

They are always enchanted by your demeanor. So much so that when the Olo’ekytan’s daughter suddenly spins the table so she is straddling their waist and taking control, they can’t help but hand the reins over. 

“Yes well you…you don’t need to worry.” Ke’ve’s eyes don’t hold the same snare that Neteyam’s do but you can already imagine how pretty they will look rolling to the back of his head when you have his cock in your mouth. Pleasure has a way of rendering a man defenseless, therefore giving you the perfect opportunity to carry out your plans. 

With the stealth and precision of a predator stalking its prey you snake your hand up his bicep and over one broad shoulder. Consequently it has your own face inching closer to his wrist where you sensually let his pulse point rub over your throat. It will leave the trace of his scent there, igniting a primal side of him that can be molded perfectly into your designs. “How can I repay you?” You ask, batting your lashes up at him as you begin the slow descent to your knees. 

But they never hit the ground. 

Sharp pain erupts along your scalp as a hand abruptly grabs a chunk of your hair at the roots. That hold is used to veer you back onto your feet and fall back against a warm chest. “I can think of a few ways.” 

Your carefully crafted composure shatters into a hiss as you try to recover from both the shock of being caught and the unforgiving grip Neteyam has in your hair. Even more so, the tingling sensation that brutal hold sends down your spine. 

“Ow! Let go!” 

“Tell the others I will be having a little talk with my omega.” Neteyam commands, ignoring your useless struggling. “You are dismissed, Ke’ve.” The beta doesn’t need to be told twice, already scurrying to get away. 

“Now let’s get you sorted out.” Still keeping his hand tangled where you try to dislodge it, Neteyam drags you further into the mysterious forest. You note that the distance, however, is not quite far enough to completely conceal your whining from the others. 

Feet stumbling once that hold is released, you find yourself unceremoniously deposited onto a large boulder. You can spot the cliff’s edge where it drops down into a waterfall and beyond is the rolling landscape of Pandora’s forest. The glimmer of eclipse is slowly shifting into the first ray of sunshine to cast over the horizon. 

“You just had to prove me right, tiyawn.” Neteyam tutts, squatting onto his haunches so that he is at your level. 

It takes considerable effort to get your brain back online and position yourself into a pose more flattering and fit for a princess. No male has ever handled you so roughly. They wouldn’t dare. But the sting of Neteyam’s tug on your scalp leaves a strange ache behind that has your mind reeling. Trying to put your confident mask back on, you fuss with your hair to get every strand back into place. 

“And you just had to act like a barbarian.”

“Did you really believe it was that easy to sneak away from me?” 

Your throat runs dry when you meet his eyes. This wasn’t a near successful escape, it was planned. One look at his face and it’s clear that he knew exactly when you left and exactly who was assigned to deter you. 

“Can’t a woman pee in peace?” You fumble out, making your last attempt at defending your story.

“I suppose not when it ends in you practically nuzzling at another man's tewng [loincloth] like a little slut.” 

Your jaw drops before you can stop it. Eyes ablaze and tail pointed on alert, you are tempted to throw caution to the wind and slap the alpha’s pretty face. No male, in fact no Na’vi, has ever used such a vulgar term to depict you. You’ve had your share of fun among the betas in your clan, but that makes you no less glittering of a gem. And certainly not a slut. 

“No man of honor would even think of using such a term, let alone directing it at me.” When you rise up to your full height, Neteyam stands in suit. “Is this why you asked for my hand? Any normal prince, especially the son of Toruk Makto, should have half the women in the clan begging to mate with him. But maybe even they could not see past your arrogant disrespectful bravado, so you had to travel to another clan entirely to find an unknowing prospect.” 

“Is that your theory?” Tone deceptively calm, the deep drag of his voice washes over you like silk. 

“You may think that you’ve conquered and can now return home with a pep in your step but no matter what you do, there will always be one truth that will haunt you.” 

You gulp down the lump in your throat when one of his long strides closes the distance between you. Regardless, you refuse to retreat. 

“And what truth is that, princess?”

Your wild eyes shoot to pierce through him. 

“That you chose wrong.” You let that statement hang in the air for a beat, hoping it will press down on him in the silence. However it is disappointment that lays a hold on you when his unreadable expression remains in place. 

“Is that so?”

He’s close enough to nearly feel the beat of his heart. 

“It may be your experience that omegas in your presence bow in submission and shudder beneath that charming grin, but I am not one of them. I am not subject to swooning for or baring my neck to any alpha. I am too independent for your tastes.” 

His chest vibrates with a deep chuckle, one that ironically holds no jovial warmth to it. Instead, paired with the sinful curve of his lips, it wraps thick tendrils around you that act as the calm before the storm. 

“You’re not independent, princess. You’re a spoiled brat.” 

He’s undeterred by your scoff or bat of your hands when he forcefully grasps your chin between two fingers. 

“When my father finds out what kind of man you-”

“Your father has done you a great disservice.” Two steps forward and Neteyam has successfully backed you up against the cool stone. “He has given you everything you’ve asked for, let you go entirely unchecked. We can place part of the blame on him for turning you into a spoiled little thing that thinks it only takes a bat of her lashes to get what she wants.” 

When your lips part to sneer a nasty comment at him, Neteyam swiftly presses his thumb over them. 

“It’s because of this spoiled attitude that you have not properly learned the pleasure of submitting to your nature.” He’s not trying to hide the shadow of his scent over you now, it circles you into a clouded dome. Leaning his head down, his lips just barely whisper against your own that are still trapped beneath his thumb. “You don’t understand the ecstasy of being tamed.” 

A warmth pools at the pit of your stomach. You recognize that feeling and what it means. Putting your desire to win this argument aside, it’s clear that now is the time to bow out before this escalates too far. 

“Get off.” At first it’s just a whisper. Then when Neteyam’s body remains curled over yours, rock hard and unmoving, your voice rises. “I said get off! You egotistical pervert!” Your cries don’t stop and neither does the useless rain of your fists against his chest. 

But then he is snatching your wrists and hooking a hand beneath your thigh to slide you up onto the rock. The stone is cold against your exposed back and ass, your tail becoming trapped beneath your own weight. Neteyam crushes all hope of sitting back up when he cages your smaller form with his own bulking frame. 

“Always have to make it difficult, don’t you, tiyawn?”

You fight the urge to squeeze the muscles beneath your captured hands when they land on his chest to push him away. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult if you just got off of my ass for once.” 

“Oh but princess that is exactly where I want to be.” That devilish grin is accented by a ray of sunlight painting his features. 

Without an inch of personal space it becomes aggravatingly obvious how gorgeous the man above you is. Neteyam is the perfect contrast of broad shoulders and a slim waist shown off by his beautiful woven battle band. His immaculate braids swing down across his cheeks and collarbones to frame his intense eyes, sharp jawline, and lips that were simply made to do sinful things. 

 Your reflection is cut short when a band begins to wrap around your wrists. Squirm as you might, Neteyam holds no sympathy for your protests as he expertly ties the appendages together. Empty threats. Cries for help. None of them make an ounce of difference. 

“Scream as much as you want if you’re that eager to give the others a show.” 

That shuts you up in an instant. It confirms your earlier observation of proximity and immediately has you playing back the conversation to guess how much of it that other males have already heard. 

“You’re a monster.” 

“Hm, and all yours, princess.” A wicked grin across his lips, Neteyam secures your bound wrists to a low branch over the rock. You’re left stretched out and trapped laying across the boulder beneath him. 

That cocky expression blanches its color once he draws his nose along your neck. The exact spot you had tricked Ke’ve to scent you. Your heart hammers on its own accord when Neteyam’s wicked smile drops. Mere seconds ago nothing had seemed more appealing than ripping apart the alpha with the lash of your tongue, but now something in you warns to stay still. To stay quiet. 

“I was going to wait until we reached Vitraya Ramunong [tree of souls], in light of tradition.” His breath is hot against your neck, a heat that travels like lava down to your very core. “But it seems my little brat can’t wait that long.” 

His teeth sink in without warning. It takes a moment for the shock to fizzle out and allow you to feel the pain. Neteyam’s teeth bite and capture the soft flesh there without mercy before his lips suck a dark spot directly over where Ke’ve’s scent used to be. 

Your spine arches, hips already bucking without your consent. The only response to your screams and squirming is Neteyam’s own hips pressing you back against the stone. He is ravenous. Biting, sucking, and licking at that one spot until the area has become desensitized to his ministrations. 

Your body has spiked from zero to one hundred in a matter of seconds. Your head reels with the whiplash of having the male reprimand you one moment and the next sinking his teeth into a mark terrifyingly close to your mating gland. 

“Better.” Neteyam finally murmurs against your neck. He seals the mark with a deceptively tender kiss as you are left short circuiting. Your instincts flare, that primal part of your nature climbing out from under the rock you’ve kept it trapped beneath. 

“Are…are you insane? Biting that close-” 

“I won’t mark you there tonight, tiyawn. Want to be able to feel you through the bond when that happens.” A curved knuckle runs down your kuru, making your toes curl. “Once we are under the spirit tree together. There are still some traditions I’d like to keep.” He says with a grin that you could almost associate with a charming gentleman, not the same male that just savagely ravaged your throat like a predator of the night. 

“But we will need to find a way to get you to behave until then.” You can’t mirror the ease he feels as he speaks. It becomes clear now how dire your circumstances are. You had thought Neteyam wouldn’t dare to put a hand on you without permission but now he has proven to be more than willing to not only touch but leave marks behind. There is no telling where he draws the line. 

And you’re scared, just as you should be, but there is something else far more terrifying that plumps into your bloodstream. A dangerous intrigue that borders excitement. 

“How do you suggest we do that, princess?” 

No matter how hard you try, no humble response willingly bubbles to your lips. Neteyam is still an asshole, gorgeous or not. Alluring or not. No matter how tempting he may be, that doesn’t mean it’s worth exploring the mysterious punishment he has up his sleeve. And you…well you’re still pissed. 

“My behavior is nothing in comparison to yours. You-”

A hand comes down on the side of your ass hard enough to have you choking on those words. 

“You hit me!” Neteyam simply tilts his head at your accusation. 

“Good observation, tiyawn.” Not a hint of apology present. This man is not remorseful, he is proud. “If you keep running your mouth like that I will be forced to do it again. Knowing you, it won’t take long for me to tan that ass red.” 

Your father never spanked you as a child. It would break his heart to see his little girl cry the tears it would inevitably provoke. And with your dating experience exclusively being betas, no man has ever tried to right that wrong. Thinking of riding on a pa’li with a red ass now has fear jumbling threats past your lips haphazardly. 

“I swear on my-”

His right hand clamps over your mouth. The pressure is hard enough to have you whining beneath his skin. 

“That’s enough from you for now.” 

There is nothing left for you to do but watch. Body rendered immobile and now your last weapon at your disposal silenced, you are at the utter mercy of the prince. A mercy that does not appear to be afforded any time soon as his other hand trails down to start undoing the knots of your top. 

It shouldn’t be as scary as it is, watching string be string get unlooped as your crystal top begins to fall slack. However, this particular intimacy is one you are not accustomed to. 

It had started out as just a silly game you had played when you first started dating. Men were often foaming at the mouth to get a proper glimpse of your subtle breasts. It had been an immediate source of amusement as you’d seen how far they were willing to go for only a chance. And even more rewarding when you noticed how easy it was to never follow through with satisfying this desire. 

So it continued. It became somewhat common knowledge among your lovers, and any future interested prospects that you keep that part of yourself private. However, you hadn’t meant for it to go on as long as it did. Eventually you would cave to a worthy beta and watch him go feral, but that was before you discovered simply how sensitive your nipples are. It only took a few times of playing with yourself, brought on by your interest in nipple piercings, for you to see how vulnerable that area of you is. 

And now it is ironically Neteyam that uncovers that part of you.

He can sense the shift of your scent the moment it happens. With every tug on the feeble strings your essence takes on a darker hue. Pleasure and pain. Arousal and fear. These combinations are ones you have not been properly exposed to. Perhaps were it not for him, you would never have been humble enough to try them. 

The last undone tie allows the strung crystals to slide over the curve of your chest before dropping to the floor. What pretty little things you adorn yourself with, yet they do very little to protect you. Because it’s clear to him that in your eyes, protection is never needed. You can not fathom how much you have truly gotten away with.

Prancing around in your little outfits. Torturing men with what they want but can’t truly possess. Expecting the world to shift whatever way you desire with the wave of your hand. It’s laughable how you never imagined to face the consequences of such actions. 

You’re a haughty little thing just waiting to be put in your place. 

“My brat.” Neteyam smirks, leaning down to place a kiss at the slope between your breasts. Goosebumps ripple over your beautiful azure skin. It’s a visceral reaction to the smallest of his touches and it drives him near insanity. How perfect this pretty body of yours will be as a canvas for his marks. A vessel for his heir. 

Fuck, you are beautiful. 

Perhaps he can’t entirely blame you for being so arrogant. Your beauty is enough to hold a man captive with just a simple glance. And you’ve taken advantage of that far too many times. 

He allows himself to fall captive to it now. Unlike the others, he won’t need to starve after you once you’ve decided you’re done playing with him like a toy. No, you will be bound to him. You will belong to him completely. 

“So pretty.” He coos, his lips just barely painting over your right breast. When his bottom lip hover over your nipple he watches in awe as it hardens. “But you already know that, don’t you?” 

You’ve gone silent, but he can feel the stutter of your breath beneath his hand. It would be unfair to neglect the other side, so Neteyam takes his time showing your left breast the same gentle attention that has your other nipple following in suit. He’s heard of your reluctance to reveal such pretty breasts to your lovers, but he never imagined it would be due to such sensitivity. 

It’s like watching a flower bloom for him. The way you squirm and whine at even the drag of his eyes over your delectable form. Neteyam lets his hand slip from your mouth, no longer willing to explore only with his lips. 

His fingertips start a trail down by your navel and ascend up over your stomach and towards your chest at a slow pace. When he finally reaches to gently palm at your right breasts he feels your heartbeat pounding like a drum under his fingers. So many nights he has dreamed of touching you like this, rendering you utterly speechless before he has even started. Now as your lips part and breath becomes labored from his simple touches, there is no sight more delightful. 

You are perfect. You have an attitude that is in major need of fixing but even that is simply a beautiful challenge Eywa has created for him. The way you fit in his hands, gently massaging that supple flesh, it’s clear She crafted your body specifically for him too. 

The sun has finally breached the line of the horizon and now it sparkles along your chest in a dazzling show. The white crystals woven in your hair remind him of the halos worn by the angels his father has described. 

He applies more pressure with his right hand until the plump flesh is spilling between his fingers, giving him the perfect presentation for his salivating mouth. What starts out as an open mouthed kiss a few inches above your nipple quickly turns into sucking that flesh into his mouth until you are writhing. He groans at the sounds you make and when he pulls back to see the purple mark rising along your skin, the sight is enough to have him on the brink of purring in elation. 

Neteyam bends forward and starts crafting his brand on the other side so they are a matching set. This time he takes care in placing it further below your left nipple, at the crease where your stomach meets your chest. It will be difficult for you to find a top able to cover up this claim wrought by his teeth, a purposeful decision on his part. 

“Tey…mmm… teyam wait!” 

He grins at the cute nickname you’ve already coined for him, but that only buys you a few seconds before he is finally puckering his lips around one of your stiff points. The reaction is instantaneous, spine curving and a screech barreling up your throat. He doesn’t start off sucking too hard, instead just enjoys the way you feel in his mouth. Eventually, though, the whines you make are too decadent for him to resist making them ring louder. So he sucks harder at the little point and groans around the sensitive area so that it has vibrations shooting through you. 

“Finally being so good to me, tiyawn, aren’t you?” He says, taking a moment to release your nipple with an audible pop. “Laying yourself out for me to enjoy. I knew you could be a good girl.” 

You haven’t come to earn this praise yet, but it’s important to leave an alluring snippet that exhibits what could come if you only behave. As much as you may want to fight it, your nature won’t let you escape how good such praise feels. You are a stubborn woman but your body wants to submit to him. There is a part of you, no matter how deep you’ve buried it, that yearns to please your alpha. 

He snaps you back into the moment by softly closing his teeth around your left nipple. It takes a hand against your stomach to stop you from rolling onto your side and away from his soft torment. 

“It’s too sensitive! Stop!” Your pouted lips beg but your strengthening perfume gives your arousal away. Just as he figured, you’ve yet to experience how beautifully pleasure and pain intertwine. He rolls that bud sensually between his teeth before carefully giving it a tug. 

He alternates between tormenting your nipples and savoring the plush curve of your breasts with his hands and mouth. The skin is soft beneath his calloused palms. It has him wondering how it would feel to have that velvety skin squished around his cock and as he fucks your breasts. Neteyam swallows back the pooling saliva on his tongue, a string of it still connecting his lips to where he laid his last mark on your tits. It’s almost tempting enough to forgo his plans altogether and sate his lust driven curiosity, but Neteyam shakes it away.

The two of you will have plenty of time to experiment later. 

“Teyam, please no more. It’s too much!” Your pleas have died down in volume. Now they are coated with your labored breath as you try to control the pounding of your heart. 

“Too much, princess?” He questions and guides his hand down south to rest over your loincloth. “Or not enough?” When he cups your pussy through the fabric you roll up against him and chase whatever friction he is willing to give.  

It’s not nearly enough, he can tell from your disappointed expression when he pulls away entirely. Pupils blown wide and chest heaving to catch your breath, you remain silent as he reaches for the pouch attached to his tewng. 

Neteyam pulls out a line of woven crystals, much like the ones you wear in your hair but these were foraged from the caves near his home. There are fastens on either end of the chain that took far too much time for him to craft. 

“Is that for me?” Naturally you ask, that pretty face already showing how quick you are to forget what he was doing to you mere seconds ago once a shiny gift is presented. Neteyam fights the curve of his lips and keeps his every from rolling. Always so predictable.

“Just for you, princess.”

He had crafted it after his last visit to your village. Far before the Olangi clan thought the threat of Sky People was great enough to require protection but him and his father had been there to spread the news regardless. He knew before you even spoke that you thought the world was at your feet. Even the way you walked, spoke of a spoiled elegance. And when he had tried to sate his curiosity towards you with a conversation you were nothing but rude and spiteful towards him.

He knew then that you were going to be his, one or another. 

And so he started foraging for the crystals that first night back. 

“So pretty,” you murmur, voice airy. Those golden eyes narrow as you squint to look at it. Despite your current position and already wrecked voice, a sneaky little smirk forms over your lips. “But you miscounted. My hair is much longer than that.”

He lets you have your moment, watches as you grin up at him as if you have finally landed a critical blow. All for that to sizzle out when he bends down to whisper in your ear. 

“Who said anything about your hair?” 

The confused scrunch of your features doesn’t last long when he begins running the cool metal of the clamps up and down your right nipple. Nipple clamps are not a traditional erotic tool for the Na’vi so he’s certain you don’t believe your first instinct as to where that is going until he starts to pinch the right one to prepare it. 

“Neteyam, no! Get that away-” He clasps his other hand over your mouth again. Always the demands with you. Sooner than later you will learn that begging gets you a lot further with him. It’s a little trickier to prepare with only one hand available but Neteyam manages. 

The alpha plants a knee across your pelvis to keep you place while his right hand tugs at your nipples to confirm they are pointed enough to clamp onto. When the first clamp goes on your right nipple, your screeching goes up an octave. You know what to expect better when the left one is attached but that doesn’t diminish your reaction. 

Lovely little drama queen you are, the fit that follows is inevitable. He’s tested the clamps and consulted with several Sky People before deciding to use them on you so he knows there isn’t any real damage being done. Still, you are going to squirm and screech and, were it not for his hand, probably shout every insult you can think of at him, because you have never been punished like this. And your tantrums are what has worked for you in the past. 

He lets you fight it out as he holds you down. Neteyam doesn’t mind as it gives him time to admire his handy work. The chain of crystal connecting the clamps hang exquisitely between your curves. Those stiff points have turned a new shade of purple as they peek out between the clamp’s teeth. 

“Enough.” Neteyam finally quips back, tugging at the chain. A mix between a moan and groan rumbles from your throat. Once his hand has retreated he can hear the sound properly. Keeping his pointer finger curled around the crystal chain, the prince raises a warning brow at you. “Are you done throwing your fit?”

He watches your pupils dilate and lips curl into a pout.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like my gift?” 

“It hurts.” You whimper with a quivering bottom lip. It’s difficult to say how genuine the reaction is considering what a good little actress you are. 

He nods his head, mocking your pout with a feigned one upon his own lips. That only whips your stare into pointed daggers. 

“It’s supposed to, tiyawn. That’s why it is called punishment.” He kisses right above your left clamped nipple. “A term you may become very familiar with if you don’t fix your attitude.” 

Pulling back from where you glare, Neteyam settles himself beside you on his side. His left arm props against the rock to casually support his head while the right drags down your torso. The alpha’s ears perks at the little hiss you release when he just barely brushes the chain but he continues down south. 

Another time when the moon is still out he will kiss every little tanhi that dots your precious body until you cry for more. For now, he is only focused on one location. 

Neteyam can sense the heat of your core the second his fingertips slip beneath your loincloth’s waistband. You are soft and wet, just like he had imagined so many times. Flared nostrils greedily inhale your scent as he pauses to cup your entire pussy. Much like before, you can’t help but react to his touch. With a little more pressure in his firm hold, a trickle of wetness drops onto his palm. 

Fuck, you are inescapable!

You may believe he is to blame for this arrangement but the truth is you are the one that has trapped him since the moment he caught a whiff of your essence. It is him that has been utterly destroyed by his constant thoughts of you. 

“But I know that isn’t all there is to it, is there?” He continues, softly kissing your shoulder. “It’s not just pain you feel. There’s something else.” 

Your poor bottom lip has been utterly abused by your sharp teeth. Whatever sacrifice it takes for you to keep from admitting the truth to him. He discards your tewng with one hand. 

“A unique sense of-” He spreads your folds to suddenly massage your peeking clit with his pointer finger, stealing a gasp from you. “Pleasure.” Neteyam finishes with a grin. 

You turn to putty in his hands. The tension riddled along your muscles unravel as he rubs circles along your clit with just the right amount of pressure. When he clasps the chain between his teeth and tugs your eyes fly open, taking in your surroundings as if the pleasure has made you forget where you are entirely. 

“Can’t space out on me yet, princess. We still have more to discuss.” 

Talking appears to be the last thing on your mind, hips already rolling to hump against his hand. So close to the edge already that it causes a burst of pride to warm in his chest. Warm thighs bracket his hand as if afraid it will pull away at any moment. Smiling softly at the display, Neteyam smoothly covers your upper body with his own, nose to nose in a matter of seconds. 

There is nowhere for you to hide now, every microreaction bared for him. Those vibrant eyes remain locked on his own, but he catches the way they occasionally dart to his lips before returning. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Your lips against his are like decadent chocolate, the swirl of his tongue around your own is another burst of flavor he simply can not get enough of. And so the prince swirls the kiss into a languid roll of passion that leaves your lips ruby red and breaths coming out in puffs once he pulls away. 

His hand is drenched in your juices. So much so that when he switches to his thumb rubbing your clit and pointer finger tapping at your entrance, those soaking walls capture him at the first sign of intrusion. Your tight heat sucks in the first digit, pulsing around him greedily as your eyes roll back. 

Another tug to the chain and he has your attention again. 

“Let’s start with an easy question, tiyawn.” He starts. “What were you going to do to Ke’ve?”

Smart little thing that you are, or perhaps manipulative is a more accurate term, you act as if the pleasure has completely swept you away from understanding him. Beautiful little whimpers rumble in your throat and a look of pure lust crosses over your deceivingly innocent features. 

Neteyam isn’t willing to wait to see how you act your way out of this. 

His finger stops curling and thumb halts before his other hand pushes your thigh upward so that he can land a crackling spank to your ass. 

“Princess,” Neteyam drawls out in a mocking sing-song voice. “I’m running out of patience.”

The charade drops but your body trembles from the sudden lack of stimulation. 

“I was going to distract him.” It’s spoken so softly that his ears twitch and strain to make sure he hears you correctly. The finger inside of you restarts, curling up against your g spot while his thumb torments that bundle of nerves from the other side. 

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” He slots his face against the slope of your throat. The fragrance that is so uniquely you is especially strong here so there is no stopping the way his tongue naturally flicks out to draw a wet line from your collarbones to jaw. “Let me be more specific. How were you going to distract him?”

The context clues were clearly enough to put two and two together, but he still demands that you say it out loud. The first step to developing remorse is acknowledging what was done. 

When you take your time thinking up a strategic answer he cruelly pulls his finger out and jams a second one back with it on the thrust. Your toes curl and your face is turned to bury in your hair. 

“Princess.” 

No response, just a small whine as he scissor his long digits to stretch those velvet walls. 

“Were you going to suck his cock?” 

Your silence is rewarded with his hand stilling. The disappointment has your lips parting to no doubt say something far outside of a good girl’s vocabulary, but one raised brow has you falter in that decision. 

He twirls the middle of the chain around one finger so it is shortened and with each word he tugs it back sharply. 

“Were. You. Going. To. Suck. His. Cock.” 

“Ah mm Yes!” You gasp, eyes squeezed shut but pussy wildly pulsing around his fingers. 

“That’s what I thought.” He revels in the naive relief you exhibit when he begins his ministrations between your thighs again. How cute of you to think that a little truth would forgive your earlier sins. 

Neteyam prowls down your body, savoring the slide of your skin against his own until he is settled between your thighs that are now pushed over his shoulders and he has an unobstructed view of your greedy cunt. While diligently pushing you closer to an orgasm, the alpha takes special care to decide where his next visual claim will be laid. He decides on two spots. 

The first one is atop your upper thigh where it will be in clear view of anyone you come across and the second is harshly sucked into the sensitive flesh of your left inner thigh. 

“You will never walk upon Omatikay soil without my marks.” 

You don’t appear to hear him.

“Oh mm Neteyam…feels so good.” 

It might just be the first good thing you’ve said all day and his inner alpha purrs in deep satisfaction. Unfortunately for you, punishment comes before rewards. 

Retracting his hand entirely, Neteyam swipes the remnants of your sticky arousal over your inner thighs, painting his beautiful canvas. There is no time to complain at the loss before he is running the flat of his tongue from your convulsing pussy up over your clit and even navel. 

That wet muscle dances along and between your folds in practiced precision. Your essence tantalizes his very tastebuds until he is producing so much saliva that it is difficult to say how much of the wet mess at your apex is made from him versus you. He supposes in some ways he is responsible for both. 

The prince’s lips shine with the evidence when he pulls back to speak. 

“Do good girls do that?”

“Huh…what?” 

“Do good girls try to suck cocks that are not their alpha’s?” He reiterates, weaving a firm steel into his voice. 

“I…uh…no,” Comes your timid response. 

Those thick lashes flutter when he returns to feasting on your delicious cunt. It only lasts for a second, however, before he is speaking against the soft skin of your thighs. 

“That’s right, tiyawn. Good omegas know who they belong to.”

Your body jolts as if stung by lightning when his thumb rubs at your sensitive nub again. He can see it in your face now. His omega is just barely tipping on the edge of release. 

“So what do you think you should do about it?”

Breath borderline erratic the muscles in your legs tense in anticipation of that wonderful release. The same one that he roughly rips away when you don’t respond, not daring to even breath across your cunt. 

“No no please! I’m so close! Just a little longer. I wanna come!” 

“What do you think you should do about it?” Neteyam repeats, tampering down the smirk that threatens to cross his lips when he sees the way you whine and tugs at your bonds. 

“For…for what?” You’re so genuinely confused he has to hold back a coo at how adorable you look. 

“What do you think you should do to make up for trying to suck his cock?”

That little head of yours is working overtime to craft an intelligent response. It becomes all that much harder when he starts playing with your clit again, keeping you tantalizingly close to the edge but never over. 

“I…I could…I..”

“Yes?” Neteyam considers himself very patient but he is forced to halt his touch when you take too long to respond and get far too close to coming. 

“No wait! Why did you stop?” Your foot stomps against the rock like the spoiled brat that you are, so utterly confused and crestfallen at being denied for the first time. Has any male ever even tried to edge you? If your response is anything to go off of, it’s clear that he will be the first to teach you the joys of orgasm denial too. 

“Answer my question, oeyӓ tiyawn [my love].” 

Frustrated tears run from the corner of your eyes and this time Neteyam is positive they are genuine. Your little pout is broken by sharp teeth torturing your bottom lip again while you try to get a hold of yourself to respond properly. 

“I…I could suck your cock.” It comes out almost as a question but the prince is eager to take it. 

“There you go.” He hoists himself up to deposit a kiss on your lips before shrinking back down and continuing a very special kiss between your legs. Your pretty thighs immediately clamp around his head, shaking so hard he can feel the vibrations. As much as he wants to taste your release properly he can’t pass up the opportunity to see your face for the first time as you come.

So the alpha escapes the cage of your thighs and replaces his tongue with skilled fingers the fuck up into your pussy and play with that precious bundle of nerves. He kisses his way up your body, this time being mindful of the crystal chain, until he is nuzzling against your cheek. The woodsy essence of his own scent will integrate there, letting everyone know that you have been claimed. 

“Such a smart girl my omega is. So good for her alpha.” 

That is your undoing. Like a woven tapestry he watches you unravel into an explosion of pure ecstasy. All of this time you’ve denied yourself the wondrous caress of an alpha’s praise. It’s left you with no defenses once finally showered with his sweet words. Neteyam groans deeply beneath your whiny scream, savoring the way his hand is now properly drenched as he rides you through the orgasm. 

You don’t register when Neteyam pulls away. In fact your head is so high above the clouds that it’s only when your hands drop like a dead weight against the boulder that you realize Neteyam has cut your bonds. 

It feels as if the world is a hazy blur of color, everything so vibrant and wondrous as you come down from that high. Even the simple kisses Neteyam gives to each of your wrists feels like drinking sunshine. In fact it is so incredible that you instantly crave more. 

More of him. 

More of this electric pleasure.

Anything and everything that has brought you into such a happy state. 

However, when the prince comes to carefully help you off the boulder and back onto your feet, it’s suddenly clear what it will take to get another taste of cloud nine. And in this case, that means tasting him. 

Neteyam hardly needs to prompt you onto your knees. Whatever is brewing inside of you is now your new addiction and somehow being at eye level with his crotch has never seemed more appealing. Your alpha wants you to atone for your sins, perhaps then he will grant you another orgasm. Well if taking him down your throat is redemption then you are going to be good at this game. 

Past experience is the foundation of your confidence. 

Hands still shaking with aftershock, they fumble to get a hold of his tewng. You’re about to catch hold of the waistband and simply rip the fabric down when strong hands catch your wrists. You look up at him in bewilderment. What type of man stops a woman on her knees second before he is about to get his dick sucked?

“We’re not going to do this your way, princess. If you want to make it up to me then you will learn to follow my instructions.” 

In some ways it’s borderline insulting. What is wrong with the way you suck a male off? No man has ever complained. And if they did, how would Neteyam even know? He’s never experienced nor witnessed what you do. But of course as an alpha he must believe he knows best. 

Typical.

Those thoughts don’t bubble into words, however, because as much as you would like to prove how fucking fantastic you are all on your own, you don’t want it more than another orgasm. Preferably by the means of his skilled tongue.

When he drops your wrists you shift uncomfortably, both impatience and the tight press of the clamps around your nipples creates the undeniable need to squirm. All while Neteyam simply watches you from above, perfectly calm and entertained by your position. 

That is until you go to shift the clamps and your wrists are immediately snagged again. 

“Did I say you could touch that?” He asks, that smooth voice taking on a smoky edge. Just when you are about to pout, however, Neteyam pulls your hands to place them along his upper thighs. You don’t need to be told twice. Running your hands along the smooth skin and squeezing the corded muscle there is a nice enough distraction to silence your objections. 

That is, until a new distraction presents itself. 

His long fingers carefully start to undo the ties of his tewng. Done at such a leisured pace it’s obvious he is determined to torture you, even pausing at one point to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before finally lets the cloth fall away. 

Excitement quickly mingles with apprehension when you see what you are faced with. 

Beta males have always satisfied you with their size, just enough to make you choke a little and hit that special spot inside of you. However, you’ve forgotten entirely what it means to be with an alpha. Neteyam’s cock curves up against his lower abs, fully hard and already sporting a drop of precum. But even the thought of fitting your mouth around that bulbous head, let alone trying to get the massive length down your throat makes your ears begin to twitch. 

All confidence quickly drains from your face. 

“Are you ready to listen now?” 

Finally peeling your gaze away from his twitching cock, you look up at him to see him staring down at you with the same intensity. 

“Yes.” You whisper, suddenly grateful for promised instruction now that you’ve been properly thrown for a loop. Perhaps you should have branched out to fucking with alphas at least once, just to know the difference properly. Because now you feel like a proper virgin waiting for their first lesson on giving a blow job. 

Surprisingly there is one feeling that rises higher than your trepidation.

Curiosity. 

Somehow the challenge before you sparks a further interest. A need to map out every part of his body until it has become less mysterious. Until it feels familiar beneath your hands.

And as if Neteyam can read your thoughts, he says, “You can explore now, tiyawn. Take your time.” 

Take your time. Not the direction you would expect from a male whose cock is fully hard and jerking against his lower stomach. You had thought all alphas to be forceful, wanting to claim and fuck in a quick and dirty fashion. But Neteyam stays true to his word when your hands slowly travel up his thighs. 

You are given more than enough time to familiarize yourself with the area. You start small, running the pads of your fingers down his muscular abdomen to feel each and every muscle there. Then once a little bit of confidence has been regained they come to rest around his base. 

The dark blue shade of his skin elegantly bleeds into a beautiful purple the closer to the tip it goes. All to then end on a subdued shade of pink along his head and balls. Even without the moonlight you can make out the small tanhi that dot along his skin. They lead along the side, creating a trail beside the thick vein lacing the underside of this cock before fanning out around the tip. As if they were perfectly crafted to entice your eyes towards the prize. 

Neteyam’s tail lashes the first time you run your fingers over him. His arousal is an essence that infiltrates the very air around you like a thick cloud. Surely he must be anxious for you to hurry up, but the prince keeps his body strictly in place for your exploration. 

It is only when he catches your tongue swiping over your bottom lip that he speaks up. 

“You can use your tongue, tiyawn.” With an inaudible gasp you pull back in surprise, practically forgetting he was there. An amused grin shows off his pearly white teeth, never faltering as you hesitate for a moment. “Are you feeling shy, princess?” 

“No.” You bite back even as your stomach does a somersault. 

“Remember, I will guide you. No need to stress.” His fingers run through your scalp and in spite of how good that feels you rear back and glare at him. 

You don’t need help. And you sure as hell are not shy. So what if you are a little caught off guard? That does not give him the right to treat you like an omega virgin ripe for the picking. 

So you draw forward and boldly draw the flat of your tongue slowly from the base to tip. Much like he had done between your own thighs. Because much like him, you are not afraid and you are not one to hand the reins over easily. 

What you do not anticipate is how the taste of him blossoms over your tastebuds. It sends a thrill through you that is difficult to conceal as you go in for another taste. It gets sloppy very quickly. The moment you try to take the head into your mouth, your nerves get the better of you and that ends up making you draw back. 

Just in time as Neteyam slots a hand in your dark locks and grabs hold of the roots. “Why are you rushing, omega?” 

“I am not.” 

“Follow my directions. No need to prove yourself.” He says, but he already wears a crooked smirk. 

It continues like this back and forth until you are finally tired of having your head yanked back by your hair so you wait for his instructions. Neteyam is meticulous in the way he has you explore, the way he forces you to taste him before even giving you the chance to take him into your mouth. 

But when you do finally take in the first few inches your inner omega springs forth without reserve. You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as they slip past your outstretched lips. And that stretch, that utterly deniable feeling of being stretched full, is what has you drawing in for more. 

Before now being on your knees has always felt like a place of power. You’ve riddle men down to whimpering messes just by the skilled trace of your tongue. You’ve swallowed everything they’ve had to give while they’ve sung curses to the sky. It is them that is rendered entirely insatiable as you hold their pleasure in the palm of your hand. 

It doesn’t feel that way now. 

It’s hard to determine what he awakens within you but every time you are pulled off of his cock and told to take a moment to breathe, it is you that feels insatiable. You figured it would get better once Neteyam fell deep enough into his own ecstasy but somehow the evidence of his pleasure only escalates your own addiction. You can never get enough of him. 

Never will you tire of seeing his magnificent neck on display when he throws his head back with a rumbled groan. Never will you suck down the taste of him enough to satisfy your carnal desires. And never will there be a more magnificent feeling than the wash of his praise over you as your throat contracts and you gags around him. 

It is him that leaves you ravenous. 

“All the way down now, princess. That’s it, you can take it.” 

You’d take just about anything this man says at gospel at this point. A fact that is evident by the way you no longer hesitate to sheath him down your throat when commanded. And when those sinfully gorgeous hips start to move, you fight every need for breath and simply let him fuck your throat without complaint. 

In fact it is you that complains when you are given a chance to breathe, tears streaking down your face and drool coating your chin. 

“No whining.” Neteyam tsks, wagging a finger playfully. It would normally piss you off but now it only registers as the absence of praise. So when he continues to the pattern, moaning and bucking his hips only to pull off seconds later, you bite back the urge to cry and beg for his cum. “Just get me wet, princess. Tongue out. There you go.” 

It makes no sense, but then again that seems to be the theme when it comes to Neteyam. He demands you suck him off only to deny you the pleasure of feeling him shoot down your throat. Your pretty face is nothing but a mess of tears and spit when he finally rears you back for the last time. For a moment it seems possible he will jerk himself off and finish across your face or pinched nipples but his next direction has your tail tucking. 

“There’s my good girl. Now stand up for me.” 

“Neteyam.” You whine but he is quick to grab hold of that crystal chain and force you to your feet as your nipples ache. 

“Are you still wet for me, omega? Spread your legs.” He slides a hand between your thighs to inspect the evidence of just how aroused you truly are. “Very good girl.” He grins against your ear, as if he didn’t already know how desperate he has made you. 

It’s only a second of attention to your clit before he is taking your hand and dragging you through the forest. 

Neteyam has always been known for being meticulous. Or in Lo’ak’s words, obsessive. He has lived his life with a plan and great attention to detail. So when he has you following him, your hand in his own, he can’t help but look for the perfect spot to take you. The ideal place where he can admire you spread out for him and finally experience what it is to be inside of that sweet little body. 

He’s pleased to find you put up no fuss when he coerces you onto your stomach with your face down and ass up. In fact, your spine curves as you look back at him, a seductive gleam in your eyes that says you are still not above playing games to get what you want. 

“M’ready.” You sigh against the grass, tail curling upwards to give him access. It may as well be the equivalent of snapping your fingers in a fetching command. Regardless, Neteyam decides to let you off this time, especially when you are creating the most gorgeous display for him. 

Your pussy clenches around open air, your cunt an absolute mess that has dripped down between your thighs. There is no mistaking what you want. 

But that doesn’t mean that is what you’re going to get. 

You don’t immediately react when he uses both hands to knead and spread your plump cheeks apart, but when he begins to push a finger at your tightest hole, you squeak and draw back. With a stern hand gripping your hip he pulls you back against him where he kneels. Tentatively you trust him once more only to squirm when he only sticks his fingers into your pussy in order to collect your slick arousal and spread it between your cheeks. 

“Neteyam!”

“Mawey, princess. You’ll like it, I promise.” And you will, despite your better judgment. 

“No, not there!” Were it not for the hazy glow he has you in now you surely would claw his eyes out for even suggesting such a thing but with his thumb reaching down to rub at your sensitive clit, your defenses are greatly weakened. 

“And why not, tiyawn?”

“I want you to fuck me.” You drawl with a whine. 

“And I am.” Neteyam slinks up so his chest is pressed against your back, pushing away your hair so he can whisper in your ear. “I am going to fuck my spoiled brat until the only words she can manage to utter are thank you and my name.”

You sputter at his sensual words, pussy trying to clamp around the finger that swirls through your juices. 

“But that’s…t-that’s not what I mean.” 

“Are you nervous, tiyawn?”

“N-no.”

“No male has ever tried to stretch this little hole before, have they?” 

You simply attempt to tuck your face away from him as it turns a lovely shade of red. Neteyam grins and kisses your cheek. 

“I am going to take every first you have left, princess. I will fuck all of your holes over and over again, including this naughty little hole.” A shudder ripples through your trapped frame. “Your greedy pussy too but the first time I do that we will bonded beneath Vitraya Ramunong so until then…” He grips your hip to keep you in place when his lubed finger finally starts pushing past that clenching rim.

“Breathe oeyӓ tiyawn.” He hushes your whines. It takes considerable effort to coax you into relaxing for him but Neteyam finds that the right amount of praise and gentle kisses seems to get the job done. 

Fuck, you are so incredibly tight! It feels as if you are trying to cut off the circulation in his fingers as he adds another. His heart races at those pulsing walls around his cock. You do nothing to aid his patience as little pants filtering from your lips and soon your eyes are fluttering closed. 

You won’t want to admit it, but this new pleasure has you entirely hooked. A strange sensation no doubt, and even uncomfortable at times he can tell as you struggle to take a third finger but so too do you eventually start pushing your hips back against the intrusion. 

Holding you in place is no longer required, allowing his other hand to slip to the front of your body and resume strumming your clit. Grass becomes intertwined with the sparkling crystals in your hair due to the way you keep turning your head to whine and squirm. 

“I wish you could see how perfect you look like this. Sweet little ass sucking in my fingers like it was made for this. I knew I’d see you like this someday, my pretty brat learning to behave.”

“F-fuck you.” You sputter.

Neteyam can’t even find it within himself to be mad when you are clenching around him like this. He’ll take care of that naughty mouth soon, but for now he is content to focus on making your body fully submit to him. 

“As you wish, omega.” 

The prince pulls his fingers out and makes sure to spread more of your natural lube over his cock. He feels like he could bust any moment just looking at your hole clenching at the loss. The gleam in your eyes when he lines the head of his cock up to your tightest hole gives him all the information he needs to know. 

“Teyam!” You gasp just before his head makes it past the entrance. 

“Doing so good for me, omega. Stay nice and relaxed.”

“It’s not going to fit.” The protest is greatly undermined by the way your pussy leaks juices down your thigh. 

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make it fit.” 

And true to his word, Neteyam patiently rears forward and rubs sinful circles over your clit until his pelvis is cushioned by your plush ass. 

“Oh my Eywa!” You quiver, thighs no longer doing the work to keep you up. 

“What was it you said about getting off your ass?”

“You fucking…Oh…asshole.” Your insults are barely tangible as he begins with shallow thrusts. “Oh my…oh…aahh.”

“Different than you thought, isn’t it?” He smirks, but even he has to close his eyes and take a moment to breathe. Your walls cinch around him so tightly it feels as if you're trying to strangle his cock. Even his shallow thrusts take considerable effort, even more difficult not to prematurely fill you with his seed every time those gummy walls pulse. “Deep breathes. Let yourself enjoy it.” 

“M-more.”

His ears perk, wondering if he has misheard you.

“What was-”

“More! Move now! Move fucking now I swear-” The air is punched from your lungs when he harshly rears back to the tip before plunging himself all the way inside again. The noise that escapes you is one he has never heard before and he knows for a fact that it rings loud enough through the trees for the others to detect. 

Grasping a handful of hair he pulls you up onto your knees so that your back is flush against his chest. From this vantage point he can see the crystal chain sparkling in the sunlight. 

“Is that any way to ask for what you want?” He rumbles against your ear. 

The sound of clapping skin echoes through the forest as you eagerly push yourself back against his now brutal pace. 

“Teyamteyamteyam,” Comes your endless spew, head thrown back against his shoulder. He’s too lost in his own ecstasy to chew you out for not answering his question. Instead he roughly manhandles you off of his cock and pushes you to lay down on your back. 

“But-”

Legs thrown around his waist he sinks back inside to the hilt. “You need to learn some fucking patience, princess.”

“I’m sorryyyyy!” You drawl but those little hands are already grasp at his biceps, demanding that he slots himself closer. Looking down he swears he can practically see his cock moving in your stomach. 

“How are these pretty tits doing, hm?” Swooping down, he leaves sloppy kisses around your secured nipples, groaning when your fingers claws at his hair to pull him closer. “Tell me the truth now, princess. Tell me how much you love me my cock in your ass.” 

He knows you're far gone when a response comes back without any fight. “I love..ngh..ah…I love your cock in my ass. Don’t stop, alpha. Pleasepleaseplease.” 

“Take a breath for me.” He commands softly and the second you comply he undoes both claps in tandem. In some ways he has heard that taking them off is more painful than putting them on. If that is true, you must have a secret love for such pain because you bare down on him so hard that it takes everything within him not to bust inside of you. 

“Fuck!” You curse, yanking him down impossibly closer. “Neteyam!” 

“Good girl, princess. My good girl.” He murmurs between sloppy kisses laid on your chest. He licks gently over your pointed nipples in efforts to soothe them. 

Neteyam’s own patience is quickly unraveling but he wants to come in time with you. He wants you to squirt across him as he paints your walls white. So with his own breaths coming out in pants and hips ricketing at a desperate speed, he reaches between you and assaults that little bundle of nerves. 

“Come on, brat. Do as you're told for once and come for me.” 

You steal the very air from his lungs. Your silky walls milk him dry as you come around him. Stars dot his vision and his abdomen flexes at the pure pressure of his own release. He spills himself inside of you as your nails dig into his shoulder blades. 

When he finally does come down from that high, your grip won’t release. His name is a whispered mantra on your lips as you pull his heavy body atop of yours. He falls without resistance, crushing you beneath him. 

You’re overwhelmed. It makes him both proud and spiteful that no other male has truly managed to get you into this floaty state before. From the way you claw at him as if he is the very oxygen you rely on, it’s clear you don’t know how to handle such new intense emotions. To think you’ve gone so many years without truly satisfying your omega. 

“I’ve got you, omega. Your alpha’s here.” He tries to prop himself up on an elbow to relieve some of his body weight from you, but that has your panic rising. With an endless draw of sweet nothings he presses himself back down just in time for your lips to demand his. 

That anxiety gradually smoothes away the longer he indulges the impromptu makeout session. When his tongue swirls around yours, your movements become more leisurely. Even the very nature of the kiss becomes lazy while you softly play with his neat braids. 

“Teyam…”

“Yes princess?” He checks to make sure your breathing has finally turned back to normal after pulling away. 

“I’m ready to sleep.” You say as a matter of fact. 

“No tiyawn we still-” It’s too late. Chest somehow managing to rise and fall beneath his weight and eyes fluttered closed, you are dead to the world. Very typical fashion for you to simply state your wants as reality without waiting for any protests. 

He rolls his eyes fondly before carefully situating both of you onto your sides. His legs feel like thin vines walloping in the wind. Neteyam has to hold back a groan when he finally manages to slip out of you. Bathing in the sunlight with you tucked against his side, he allows himself one moment to recover and bask in the feeling. 

And when that moment is gone, he does everything in his power to dress and clean up both of you without disturbing your slumber. Your hair is still tangled and the echoing screams are sure to be enough evidence of what has happened between you two but when he walks out carrying you bridal style, he playfully glares at the other males who are anxious to make their teasing comments. They will beat him up about it later, for now it is important that you sleep. 

With narrowed eyes and a hiss he demands their silence before he situates you in front of him on the pa’li. Facing sideways on the horse you snuggle closer in your sleep, body shivering. You only wake for a second so that he can slip his thick poncho over the both of you. This way you are kept warm and eyes are shielded from the sun as you sleep.

“Well?” Tak’nal, his second in command, asks with a raised brow. 

“Problem solved.” Neteyam says simply. “Let’s go home.”

Writing this felt like a fever dream😂🫠 Please don't be shy, let me know what you think😚💗

Unofficial Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ikeyniofthetayrangi @plantgirliewholovespandora @nakedinthetrees

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

I've been having a thought what if each sans finds a drink that says "do not touch/drink" and for whatever reason they decide to ignore it and drink it and with a 'poof' they are a babybones. S/o finds them first and can immediately tell that's there boyfriend who just turned into a babybones and they waste no time in taking a picture and sending it to there brother papyrus. What are the papyrus'es reaction to there big brother being a babybones for a whole 3 days do they take advantage of the fact that they get to be THE big brother for 3 days. How do they care for sans now? Or do they hand them over to s/o /any other of their friends to take better care of sans for the time being.

Undertale Papyrus - He's dying inside. He had always known his brother calm and lazy, since, well, he's younger by seven years. He didn't realize little Sans was a ball of energy. It's even worse than him. Papyrus didn't sleep for three days, trying to tire his brother but it seems his energy is endless. What the hell.

Undertale Papyrus - He's treating Blue like any of his children and he doesn't care about his temper tantrums. Turns out Baby Blue is very difficult and doesn't like to sleep (which is not a surprise), but all kinds of food as well, throwing plates at his face. Honey has great patience but Blue ends in time out lol. Honey hopes he won't remember that.

Underfell Papyrus - Ok, maybe he deserved it. Edge was horrible as a child to Red, and maybe he is kinda regretting it now that he has to take care of his miniature brother. Red is biting him, screaming all the time, and refusing to do anything he wants him to do. Edge is about to have a mental breakdown. Please go back to normal. He can't take it!

Horrortale Papyrus - It's not that different than usual. He's so used to taking care of Oak all the time that the fact he's now small is not bothering him. He simply has to be a little more vigilant as Oak can now get lost in a crowd and be hard to find again lol. Willow almost had a heart attack when he lost him in the grocery store.

Swapfell Papyrus - He gives Nox to his S/O lmao. He remembers pretty well how was his brother as a child, and he doesn't want to live this again. S/O is going to have three days of pure hell as Nox is basically a gremlin. He's trying all he can to make his guardian lose it, he's biting, he's kicking, screaming and he won't stop. He's also impossible to tire, he has endless energy.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Coffee is so lost without his brother. He doesn't know what to do, and thanks Asgore his S/O is there to help. S/O is clearly taking advantage of the thing he's small and powerless to torture him lol. Well, until he grows up back and S/O realizes he remembers everything. Good luck with that.

[swxxtsxcchxrine]

Ello I absolutely love your fics and that you write x black readers (istg no one does)

let's say Miguel the reader have a daughter and he tries to do her hair

hi ml, im so glad you enjoy my writing and yeah its so hard to find black reader stuff so yk i had to take it into my own hands but anyways the suggestion is soooo cuteee 🥺🥺🥺

everyone and their mother knew that Miguel was going to knock you up as soon as you guys had gotten married and were financially stable enough. he made that fact clear to everyone who'd listen. so when you gave birth to your baby girl 3 years ago, it only made sense that he was over joyed. Your daughter had inherited your eyes and lips but his hair colour and nose shape, ultimately creating the perfect combination of the both of your looks. however, it didn't help that both you and your husband were both as stubborn and hard headed as the next and it was made clear that your daughter had gotten that from the both of you.

there's no denying her stubborn and spoilt nature especially when it comes to her doing her hair. it was Miguel's turn to do his princess's hair on this fine Tuesday morning before dropping her off at nursery. he had the rat tail comb, the eden hair brush, the blue magic hair cream and the gummy wax to lay her edges. everything but his daughter. he tiredly descended down the stairs to find you and your daughter prancing around the kitchen to a dancehall mix you had made the other day. "there are my girls," Miguel walks in, hands wide open to welcome you and your small child. "daddy!" your baby cried before running to her father in her freshly ironed school uniform and polished school shoes. "hi baby," he said, stroking her hair. "hey pretty, sleep well?" he walks up to you before kissing you forehead in affection. you nod in contentment and sigh.

"come on baby, we have to do your hair before school," Miguel whispered half expecting his daughter to throw a tantrum. instead, she simply faced away and waddled towards the toy box to get her favourite toy. "princess. we are not doing this again," Miguel said sternly. doing his daughters hair was a constant battle. even just to brush it and put it into a puff is a pain let alone cornrowed hair styles. he sighed in distress. he didn't even know what hair style to give her yet but if worse gets to worse, he'll have to go plain and simple. he internally cursed himself for being too hot-headed and impulsive, but it was too late now. time was ticking, and his baby had to get to school on time today.

Miguel whisked his daughter away from the toy box, not having time for her shanigins today. he sat her down on the chair and brought out the comb. his daughter's eyes became glossy and her pout had reached the floor at that point, but before she could open her mouth to yell and scream for her mother, he put her tablet in front of her with bubble guppies playing in the background. she quickly quietened down, and reduced her attitude to mere sniffles as the man began oiling her hair. he decided to give her to twist on either side with pink bobbles hanging off the end. he parted her hair in the middle with the pink comb, stifling a giggle as she flinched every time the comb touched her scalp. he then brushed out her hair, being careful as to not yank on it too hard. after about 15 minutes of trying his hardest to not trigger his child, he was done.

Miguel wasn't always that good at doing his daughter's hair. he couldn't even do his own. but with patience and your help, it quickly became a stress reliever for him. knowing exactly what products to use and when and even the different hair types, sometimes offering to help you do your hair. although it was hard for him to adjust to, he did it and you couldn't be prouder. your daughter, however, remained tender headed and ever so stubborn so doing her hair was never a bore.

she quickly hopped off the seat and wandered off to the nearest mirror where she gawked at her hair in awe. she did a twirl, playing with the hem of her skirt while her other hand held her tablet. "thank yuh, daddy," she beamed. Miguel smiled. his daughter being happy made him happy. he watched as she went to show off to her mother. "wow! daddy did such a great job, baby,"

[wandering-gambler]

Zhongli X Reader with a god/Dragon in them

(((okay looking at it again it seems more like an intro to the characters rather than the romance stuff...)))

Hope You Enjoy!

_____________________________________

It was a casual day, sitting in third-round knockout with Zhongli and listening to his stories. However, one thing kept bothering me: the troublesome god, seemingly hell-bent on finding out why I had taken a liking to Zhongli of all people! The god ranted about how they could've found someone better, or how they shouldn't worry because 'I have them.' After enduring twenty minutes of this torture, I took a break. With an apology to Zhongli, I stood up and brushed my clothes off, and the god next to me smirked.

'Ah, my apologies, Zhongli. But I have some things to attend to. Would you mind saving me the seat? I shouldn't be long.'

I stated, smiling at him. 'No need for apologies, I'm happy to save you a seat. Feel free to take your time.'" Zhongli stated, smiling at them.

After taking my leave, I walked to behind nearest building and exclaimed, "Can't you just enjoy a tea break on our day off with Zhongli for once?" Irritated, I wait for their reply

"Well, it wouldn't have to be this way if you just found someone else, like me, for example, or anyone else in the harbor."

Frustrated, I sighed and rubbed my eyes, "Okay, sure, but what's the deal with liking Zhongli? He's kind, wise, a good fighter, with even better mannerisms, and is overall a fantastic man. So why would you not consider him?"

The god rolled their eyes and leaned against the wall, scoffing, "Simply put, I just don't see the appeal."

After some time, I decided it was sufficient to attempt to get an answer out of the god. so I returned to the table, saying, "Zhongli! I apologize for taking so long. I got distracted by the scenery." I sat down in my original spot, smiling. The god now sat beside them, and Zhongli stated, "Ah, no need for apologies. In fact, you didn't miss much of the story. I can catch you up if you'd like?"

"Of course!" I exclaimed as I waited for Zhongli to begin. The god, who was now sitting beside them, groaned as they listened to certain parts of the story.

After the story came to an end, Zhongli offered his hand to me, "Hmm, it seems to be getting rather late. Would you like me to escort you home?"

"I would love that, thank you," I replied, and accepted Zhongli's offered hand. As I set down the money for drinks and food, the god sitting beside them growled quietly. I and Zhongli took our leave, the god following close behind.

After a while, we arrive at my home.

"Thank you, Zhongli, I appreciate it," I say, smiling as I walk up the steps and stop at the doorway.

"This is getting hard to watch," The god beside me stated, as they leaned against the door, looking annoyed.

"It's no problem. I assure you, I hope we can find the time to do the same again?" Zhongli asked, smiling. But the god beside me just glared daggers at him.

"For sure, thank you again, Zhongli," I say, thanking him again as I walk inside and immediately plop on the couch.

"I think you could be nicer-" I begin, but the god cuts me off.

"What's the appeal to him anyway? Just some funeral parlor consultant…Not even that cool!!" The god says, crossing their arms and standing in front of the door, pouting like a small child who has been rejected from getting candy.

"I mean come on! Him?! How can you like him?" The god states while scoffing and gesturing with their hands.

I sit quietly and watch as they throw their little tantrum, not bothering to defend my preferences.

I sigh as I close my eyes. "I think you could really grow to like him…you just gotta get to know hi-" I say before the god cuts me off again.

"Grow to like him?!" the god exclaims, getting even closer as they walk over to me. "ABSURD!!"

"I don't see why you need to do this 'socializing' thing, but I think it's absurd! You could be doing way more fun things with me!"

I chuckle and reply, "Is that so? Why don't you state a few things then?" I say, leaning back and enjoying the show. The god stutters a bit before regaining their composure.

"Well, for starters, I think…pottery?! sightseeing?! buying stuff?!…" The god trails off, pacing around in front of the couch.

The God reasons, frowning, as they clasp their hands together and straighten their posture.

"I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING YOU FIND INTERESTING?"

The god states, seemingly in a panic trying to find anything.

I chuckle before replying, "I suppose I could do those with you, but… I could also do them with Zhongli… and many others."

I reason as I smile at them. The god looks not particularly happy about that. "What is it that you're bored of me now, eh? Found more interesting toys to play with?" they ask, seeming offended and hurt at the thought.

I sigh before standing up and saying, "No, no, that's not it at all… I just think it's best if we make some new friends, no?"

I thank you to whoever has read this far!!! I normally Don't write just read but I thought this was cute…

I might do another part if this turns out well…please let me know if I made any grammatical errors or anything or tips I could use in the future are greatly appreciated!! ((please keep in mind this is my first time writing in about a year and was made at 4am))

character count:5,207

[aviculor]

To elaborate on my Katakuri theory, there's a lot of small details. For instance, despite being able to see the future, a jellybean he flicked knocked out the priest before he could shoot Sanji. When he invaded the Sunny, he literally sat down with his arms and legs crossed and just watched Brook and Chopper take his men out. Despite having a den den mushi and witnessing Luffy talk to his crew through a mirror shard, he at no point informs Perospero or any of his other siblings that the Strawhats are still alive. He doesn't even say anything about it to Brulee, Mascarpone, and Joscarpone who are also there in the mirror world. Basically, it would have been incredibly easy for him to kill the Strawhats and be done with it, yet he chose to do nothing simply to see how things would play out. Any time he took initiative, it was neutralizing an active threat to his family such as flicking jellybeans at would-be assassins and providing mochi earplugs during Big Mom's shriek. And, of course, fighting Luffy. Which as I said before, quickly revealed that he respects Luffy and ended with him lowkey making Luffy promise to bring down Big Mom. In short, Katakuri secretly wants his mom to be defeated.

During his backstory, the idea of going to his mom over what happened is never even brought up. No, despite being the princes and princesses of Totto Land, the Charlotte children were completely on their own. No special status. Free to be bullied, free to be assaulted and mutilated. They only had each other to rely on. In fact, when you look at the timeline, Linlin was sailing with the Rocks Pirates during most of her children's childhoods. I'm not even quite sure how she was doing that and also giving birth to at least one child a year for the last 42 solid years. But that's not important right now. What is important is that Charlotte Linlin is a bad mother who is not only negligent, but outright abusive and even willing to kill her children for getting in her way during a tantrum. Katakuri, a man who loves his siblings so dearly that he became a "perfect" cold and calculating killing machine just to keep them safe, has every reason to resent his mother. Additionally, I would imagine it bothers him how he needs to act so stoic and deathly serious to be taken seriously, yet Big Mom can act like a spoiled child and still be treated with the utmost respect and fear. Remember that's not only his mother, that's also his captain. He and Perospero essentially co-lead the Big Mom Pirates whenever Linlin isn't in her right mind, which is...often. Despite Katakuri explicitly being the strongest member of the crew outside of Big Mom herself, it's easy to think of Perospero as the #2 because he is the one at Big Mom's side carrying out her orders and acting in her interest. Katakuri...is not. If you notice, he barely even interacts with Big Mom except during the wedding ceremony. It's also worth noting he conspicuously stayed behind in Totto Land when the Big Mom Pirates sailed into Wano. All evidence suggests he's not actually that loyal to Big Mom, but he cannot openly defy her. Especially not without his beloved family turning on him.

So what happens when a young upstart pirate captain with a reputation for toppling empires named Monkey D. Luffy declares war on Big Mom and basically comes in her home to spit in her face? He personally goes to see if Luffy can put his money where his mouth is. Over the course of a long, long fight, he comes to realize Luffy might actually have what it takes and accepts defeat. He asks Luffy one more time if he still plans on coming back to defeat Big Mom one day. And when informed that Luffy successfully escaped from Totto Land, he smirks.

As for why he bothered getting in the way during Bege's assassination plot, it stands to reason his observation haki future vision told him his siblings would try to avenge her and throw their own lives away. And they would ask why he didn't do anything to stop it. Maybe he foresaw that it wouldn't even work. But much like Luffy wanting to beat up Hody Jones, it just wasn't the right way to do it.

[gravity-falls-daily]

TWO THINGS FROM TODAY’S EPISODE:

(Note: Thing One is so long I’m sending Thing Two as a second ask because the tonal whiplash from the two things I noticed when watching the episode today would be horrendous)

Thing One:

Holy smokes- I forgot how this episode really dove into the issue of when a girl can’t say no to a guy despite being uncomfortable. I’ve been in Mabel’s situation many times, and needless to say that story is incredibly personal to me.

But also, like, the idea that Mabel, OUR Mabel, the one that fell for several guys in the span of just a few days of being in Gravity Falls, knew for a fact she wanted to only be friends with Gideon. If she wanted to fall for Gideon, she totally could’ve.

But Mabel had her priorities set, and Gideon decided to take advantage her using the fact that he was a prominent public figure. I mean, for crying out loud, he gets the first date by asking for just one to give him a chance. He gets the second one by asking in front of people in a very busy, fancy restaurant. He then gets the third one by showing an elaborate display of affection with fireworks.

Gideon knows how to manipulate people. He even manipulates his own father… like when he yells “I can buy and sell you, old man!” and that’s seen as a valid argument for Bud. Then, there’s the other time where a whole contract between two whole adults is torn up because the child is throwing a tantrum over losing Mabel.

And that’s in THIS EPISODE ALONE.

We also get to see Dipper being the world’s best twin brother ever. He at first doesn’t comment on Mabel having a friend, because who is he to butt into who Mabel wants to hang out with, but when she brings up the date, Dipper casually says that, as a guy, Gideon was going to fall in love with her. He was being upfront and honest, like Dipper does. Then, when Mabel said she wanted to say no later that night, Dipper advises her on how she should just say no. And lastly, when Dipper realizes Mabel couldn’t do it on her own, he offers to do it for her. It was, like, the perfect way for Dipper to handle things.

If Dipper had taken the relationship into his own hands at any point, it would’ve played out like how Gideon saw it- that Dipper was simply getting in between them and that Dipper was being too controlling over Mabel. Instead, Dipper tells Mabel what could happen, advises Mabel on how to handle it, LETS her have a chance to do it herself, and asked to step in when Mabel was distressed.

Good for Mabel for gaining the confidence at the end, but I’m also unbelievably happy with how Dipper supported Mabel throughout the whole relationship.

this is SUCH a good read on mabel & gideon's dynamic and the way dipper supports mabel :] i don't understand the people that say shit about mabel taking advantage of dipper sometimes tbh. like they're siblings, dawg. siblings don't always agree but that doesn't mean they don't care about each other!! this episode is such a good example of the ways in which they care about each other, both with dipper doing his best to help in the beginning and then mabel helping out at the end... truly the siblings of all time <3

[hannahmanderr]

DannyMay Day 8 - Electric Core AU

(day 7 is coming, I promise afhdsj)

Words: 1,804 (FFN)

Summary: Vlad wants more than anything to help the child who has fallen to his same fate. Unfortunately for him, his help is the last thing Danny wants. (dialogue prompt borrowed from @danphanwritingprompts)

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

“I want to go home.”

Vlad frowned at the boy huddled into the corner of the couch across from him. “You are home,” he replied matter-of-factly before taking a sip of his tea. 

“No,” Daniel said. The dark bags under his eyes stood out in sharp contrast to his paper-white face. His left eye and cheek convulsed in a tic. “You kidnapped me from my actual home.”

Vlad sighed. He’d been over this with the child already. “I didn’t kidnap you,” he said. “I brought you here to help you, my dear boy. I told you, I’m the only one who can truly help you.” The fact that he continued to ignore this fact was beginning to irk Vlad a little, but it was more hurtful than anything.

Daniel pulled his knees even tighter into his chest as his face twitched again. “I had Sam and Tucker. They would’ve helped me.”

“I certainly believe they would have attempted to help you, but their success in doing so is a completely different matter. Do you think they can even begin to understand the things you’re going through? The being you’ve become?”

“Don’t say that!” Daniel shouted. His eyes flared momentarily with a toxic green glow. Tiny sparks crackled in his disheveled hair. “I’m fine. We were figuring it out just fine until you showed up and kidnapped me!”

Vlad gingerly set his teacup down and inhaled deeply through his nose. It was… difficult to avoid showing the painful impact of the child’s words. It was even more difficult to avoid retaliating with his own shouts. “Please, my boy,” he pleaded, switching tactics. “Look at yourself. You can barely keep yourself corporeal! It’s a miracle you hadn’t blown out your parents’ circuit system by the time I found you!”

Daniel pressed his hands over his ears and shook his head like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “No, no,” he said as he squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s just a side effect, it’ll wear off soon. It’s just a side effect, it’ll wear off soon.” He continued to repeat the sentence over and over again like a mantra, his face continuing to tic irregularly.

Vlad found himself at a bit of a loss. It had been a while since he’d been in such prolonged, close contact with anyone, least of all a teenager. He was admittedly embarrassed that he didn’t quite know how to conduct himself here. A consequence of choosing to lead a life of reclusivity, he supposed, but it was now proving to be a disadvantageous choice.

Then again, what other choice could he have possibly had? After being quarantined, after losing contact with Jack and Maddie, after discovering just what he’d become…

He resisted a shudder. No, he couldn’t let the same thing happen to this poor child.

Silently, he rose from his armchair and moved toward Daniel, choosing to simply phase through the coffee table. The boy still had his hands pressed over his ears and his eyes shut tight; his mouth continued to move in his mantra, but no sound was coming out. Vlad knelt in front of him. He reached out to take Daniel’s hand, but he hesitated and settled for grasping the edge of the couch after thinking better of it.

“Daniel,” he said, then, remembering how he’d first been introduced to the boy, said, “Danny…” Buttercream frosting, this was hard. He hadn’t been in a position where he’d had to comfort someone other than himself in years. Was he keeping his voice gentle enough? Did he seem calm? He certainly didn’t feel calm.

Focus, he told himself. Taking a deep breath, he began again. “Danny, please,” he begged.

Miraculously, the boy heard him. Watery blue eyes opened and bored straight into Vlad’s. The man had to resist the urge to shy away from Daniel’s intense gaze. He could see the unfiltered power simmering behind those eyes, and he found himself wondering exactly what the child was capable of.

“Please,” Daniel whispered in a cracking voice. “Please… I don’t - I just wanna go home. I just want all of this to stop.” His cheek convulsed again as he lowered his gaze. Almost inaudibly, he said, “I don’t even know what I am anymore.”

Vlad watched in empathetic sorrow. He’d been plagued with the same thoughts for years after his accident and forced quarantine. Even now, he occasionally found himself second-guessing his own existence. In comparison, the boy’s accident had only happened a few weeks ago. Nowhere near long enough to come to terms with the whirlwind of emotional chaos and confusion that came with it.

“You are… a wonder,” he began slowly. Before he could stop himself, he continued, “You have come face to face with Death and denied him - a feat that few others throughout history have been able to accomplish. You - you have been reborn from the elements of your death, into something far greater than an average human. You are nothing short of the miracle that has led you here.” 

Vlad’s own words surprised him. Usually he wasn’t one to wax poetic like that. It was this child, though - this unassuming fourteen-year-old boy who never would have caught his eye otherwise. Something about him compelled Vlad, grabbed him by the shoulders and tore at his heartstrings, stirring in him, for the first time in nearly 20 years, the wrenching pain of care for another.

And he was okay with it. More than okay with it. The realization that he’d meant every word he’d said terrified him, but in the same butterfly-inducing terror that possessed a person just before they took the leap of faith.

He was ready to take that leap.

Daniel stared at him, dumbfounded. “A miracle?” he hissed. His eyes burned with green light again, and Vlad caught a vague whiff of sulfur. “You’re calling this nightmare a miracle?”

Vlad faltered. He hadn’t exactly been expecting this response. “Oh, my child, not like that. Please, I -”

“No!” Daniel shouted. The tears evaporated from his eyes in a tiny puff of steam. Sparks began snapping in his hair again. “I am not your child! Don’t you dare call me that!”

He extended his legs abruptly, nearly knocking Vlad from his feet. The man quickly stood, hands raised. “Danie- Danny, please.” He was struggling to maintain his calm demeanor in the face of a boy rapidly losing control of his already unstable abilities. “All I want is to help you!”

“I don’t want your help!”

Perhaps words weren’t the way to placate him, Vlad was beginning to realize. Maybe a physical demonstration would be more effective. He exhaled and concentrated on the buzzing knot of energy right above his sternum. With the precision of two decades worth of practice, he willed the energy forward, into his arms and hands. He was vaguely aware of the crackling electricity rippling across his scalp and down his spine.

Ever so gently, he expanded his energy further. No need to frighten the boy any more than he already was. But he needed to do this. He needed to show him he could help.

Daniel’s eyes flew wide open. “What are you doing?” he demanded, though his voice trembled. Whether it was from fear or anger, Vlad couldn’t tell.

“I’m trying to show you,” the man explained. In one swift move, he allowed his energy to make contact with Daniel’s, but he was nearly overwhelmed by the sheer strength and ferocity of the child’s aura. A quiet voice in the back of his head began to worry that the boy’s power was too much for either of them to handle.

He silenced that voice quickly. He couldn’t give into that, not now.

Instead, he said, “Can’t you feel it? You and I, we’re the same. Our energies are the same.” It was true. Being so close to Daniel’s own fledgling core, feeling the unwilling yet inevitable ballet between their two spirits, it told him as much. His hot, precise electricity found itself in perfect harmony with the boy’s burning cold lightning storm. The resulting potential was intoxicating. Vlad savored it with every passing second.

He needed this. He needed to help the child, to make him understand just how right it was that he was here.

Daniel, sadly, did not have the same reaction. He yelped and tried to scamper as far from Vlad as possible, resulting in him falling through the back of the couch. By the time Vlad rounded the corner of the couch, Daniel was back on his feet, though his form continued to flicker and his face twitched more rapidly. The snapping electricity in his hair fizzled through strands faster and faster, and Vlad caught sight of an angry red lightning pattern painting the underside of the boy’s jaw, down his neck, and below his collar.

“S-stay away from me!” Daniel shouted, continuing to stumble backward. “We’re not - I’m nothing like you!”

The words stung Vlad like a thousand wasps. Losing all remaining composure, he cried, “That’s not true! Please, Dani- Danny, I can help you! I’ve been through this just like you, I can teach you how to control it, but please, you must calm down before you hurt yourself!” And before I lose you, he added silently.

Daniel’s fingers dug into his biceps. His eyes were shut tightly again, but Vlad could still see the remnants of their toxic green glow seeping through the cracks. His facial tic was uncontrollable at this point. “I’m not - I-I can’t…” he gasped in between short, panicked breaths. The smell of sulfuric ozone was pungent at this point.

Daniel fell to his knees. Hastily, Vlad drew his energy back in and dropped to his knees as well. “Daniel! Can you hear me?”

The boy didn’t respond. Instead, he gasped violently and opened his eyes wide, revealing twin pools of green. “M-my… too - too much,” he choked out as his form flickered wildly. 

The moments that followed happened in quick succession. Vlad, operating purely from his panic, reached forward to put his hands on Daniel’s shoulders. In that moment, he felt every hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand upright; the tang of something metallic could be tasted in the air. He recognized the hallmark signs of the impending disaster and, in the next moment, realized he was too late to stop it.

The instant his hands made contact with Daniel, a blinding white bolt of electricity cracked into existence, forming a ring around the boy’s waist. 

The resounding force launched Vlad backwards and into a bookcase. The back of his head slammed into the edge of a shelf, and he crumpled to the ground.

The last thing he saw as he slipped into unconsciousness was lightning dancing across snow white hair and Daniel’s acidic green eyes.

[misszura]

Belch Huggins

I don’t know, here is a kindergarten Belch story, enjoy.

Reginald Huggins has always been nice.

Deeply and sincerely kind.

As a child, he was polite, he helped his mom, he shared his toys in kindergarten and never fought. His teachers described him as calm and quiet, and they all had fond memories of him, although they would surely have been surprised at what he had become once in high school.

All except George Ellis.

George Ellis was a substitute kindergarten teacher in 1977, when Reginald was 6, and he was terrified of this child. So terrified that he ended up quitting teaching and becoming a florist.

But don’t get me wrong. Reginald had been perfectly polite to him. He had welcomed him, in a shy voice, before returning to play. George had seen him share his toys, and even though he was a little aloof, the other children liked him.

George had immediately noticed that the boy was taller and wider than the others, not fat, just bigger. As if the other kids were further away when they were next to him, but he also noticed that he wasn't using his superior strength to get what he wanted.

He had witnessed cordial exchanges between the child and the other students in his class, he had seen Reginald accept refusals in a moderate way without throwing any tantrum, a common thing for a five-year-old or so child, and if it wasn’t for that famous event of February 1977, George Ellis would have told you that Reginald was an angel.

In January 1977, a Lilian Griffith had entered the kindergarten class for which George was responsible during his colleague's maternity leave.

George had never believed there were bullies in kindergarten. For him, bullies were born with adolescence and the insecurities that this period of life created.

As a gay man -without being out he had a behavior that disturbed the others- he had been bullied by several bullies during his adolescence, and they had always had the same profile: boys, often middle class and always badly in their skin.

That's why he refused to believe it when Lilian Griffith entered the classroom. This almost five-year-old little girl didn't look like a troublemaker. A petite blonde, with a big, innocent smile.

“Now that I mention it,” he said when he told the story one night in a bar, “Lilian Griffith, if you merge him, it makes Lilith, like that demon. It must have been an omen…” he then finished his pint and ordered another.

It had started slowly. At first she had begun by laying down her law. Rallying the children to his side by promising them things. Then she had decided that it was necessary to put aside those who did not want to be on her side. Finally, as soon as a child upset her, she hit him. Sometimes she hit them for no reason. George had watched her without knowing what to do, he had seen Lilian kicking little Rony Gibson, who hadn't asked for anything. He had seen Lilian create a dictatorship in kindergarten, until it all ended.

You could wonder what is the link between the little dictator Lilian and the terror inspired by Reginald, called Belch nowday, Huggins to George Ellis.

Reginald never sided with Lilian, he never left anyone out, and the other students refused to be mean to him. That's why she started picking on him. George was afraid that if Reginald retaliated to the blows the little one gave him, she would end up hurting herself. Lilian snatched the toys from Reginald's hands, but he simply replied "yes, we must share" and went to take other toys. When she kicked him, he simply moved away a little further. One day she took his favorite red truck and broke it. Reginald just picked up the pieces saying his daddy could fix it. George was impressed with Reginald's reaction and thought a lot of people should take a cue from him.

Over time, Lilian had created a real army and no one knew how to fix the problem. She acted behind adults' backs and always denied the facts, she took revenge on children who reported what she was doing and often attacked children who did nothing wrong. She terrorized kindergarten. She was a real bully.

One day, while supervising recess and watching the children have fun sharing the pedal cars available to them, George witnessed a terrifying scene. He noticed the young -little would have been incorrect- boy, sitting at the wheel of one of the cars, pedaling as fast as possible. George didn't think one of those toys could go that fast. He watched, helpless, as the car passed in front of him and violently crashed into Lilian, crushing the little girl against the wall of the courtyard. George was certain that if he had been closer that day, he would have heard the girl's bones shatter on impact. He rushed over to her and waited for what seemed like hours before he finally saw her take a deep breath. The children were guided inside and an ambulance was called.

When George finally got the chance to do it, he asked Reginald what made him do it.

“I solved the school problem. »

That's all the boy answered. Not a trace of fear or remorse in his eyes, still his calm expression. He had seen a problem and fixed it before returning to play with his comrades. George had been forced to see that the school was much better off without this girl, but he knew he could never forget the blank stare of the boy who had "just fixed the problem". A blank stare after an attempted murder.

Reginald Huggins was an angel. He had his own way of solving problems.

Later, five or six years later, he had tried to fix the school problem again by becoming friends with the college terror.

[mcalhenwrites]

It has always been very hard for me to talk about my childhood abuse. I can only somewhat do it now. I mostly just dump all that trauma right into a character. It's easier to deal with that in fiction rather than talk about the reality of it, particularly when I feel - and I'm surely not alone in this - like I can't change it. It happens to so many of us. It's so normalized! Abusive childhood details ahead but when I wrote Adversary, I created a society that punished children in various ways. One of them was to throw them in a religious maze with terrifying depictions painted on the walls at night so that the child had to figure out how to light the pitch black maze with candles. Each candle had a color and needed to be lit in a certain order. (Some kids memorize this, but yeah.) That comes from my mom getting upset at me for having a tantrum when I was four, and when we got home, she shut me in the car and went inside. It was pouring rain. I had no idea how to get out. I figured out locks that day - this was a long time ago, so we didn't have electronic locking systems or alarms. In fact, the car was old (poor family) so it didn't have electronic windows either. When my brother and I were playing with our blankets, using them as capes, my dad got angry about it. Said that wasn't what blankets were for and took all of ours away for a night. I was always hiding under mine because I thought aliens or monsters or ghosts would get to me if I didn't, so I was up all night in a panic because I couldn't hide. I can't say if I've translated that into one of my stories, but surely I have. Then there's stuff like... In TDC, Roscoe asks Wayne (his father) if he can have broccoli with dinner. Wayne rejects the notion, but he's pissed about it. Then he immediately changes his mind and says they can fix it, but he says it angrily, as if Roscoe forced his hand. Even though he simply asked once and dropped it as soon as Wayne said "no". And now, no matter what he does, he's been set up: if he says it's okay, they don't have to have it, Wayne will blow up at him. If he agrees to fix it, Wayne will hold it against him that he got what he wanted and will likely bring up "We would have broccoli in the house if you hadn't insisted on eating it." Roscoe isn't trying to win or lose, but he's been put in a situation where that seems to be the case. Over something as innocuous as wanting broccoli for dinner. It's Wayne, setting Roscoe up. Which is a reality I lived through time and time again with my father. It fucks with you deeply. It makes every choice you make something terrifying. You aren't supposed to have choice. I was my maternal grandparents' least favorite child, and they constantly allowed my cousin to bully me to horrific degrees. Then when I was writing Seasons, I was in a "polycule" (girlfriend at the time had another partner) where I was suddenly being ousted more and more from the relationship. It tore open a ton of old wounds that I am forever everyone's least favorite. So that ended up being a core part of Howie's experiences as well. It just hurts too much sometimes to talk about it in depth, and sometimes I don't even want to be a person. I want to be a machine who write stories and doesn't have to need or feel things. I put all that pain into my stories, because I like to write, but I also need to get out those emotions. Express them in a way that isn't ripping my skin apart because I share blood with some shitty people. (Yes, that's... an actual thought that I'd have a lot in the past. Not so much these days, but I'm also just writing and projecting more shit onto characters.)

[sesshy380-rp]

(Alright I'm trying this!! I hope it's alright!!)

[Post-Millenium World • nb lesbian TKB • use he/him for the moment]

Bakura had no idea how much time passed since he lost the dark rpg. Maybe a lot. Maybe only a few days. Time wasn't really a thing when you were dead.

Well. He already technically died 3000 years ago. The right words would be when you passed away. Kind of. Because the thief knew he wasn't close to Aaru. He was a lost soul trying to find his way in the Duat.

Two things surprised him. First, his soul was still intact. After his defeat he expected to disappear into nothingness with Zorc. Not to be separated from the Dark god, to be his own person again, and to end up here. This was a little confusing, but it was nice to have his own body back instead of the weak shape of Ryou. It wasn’t against his landlord, but that boy should really go see the sun and do exercise from time to time.

The second thing that surprised Bakura was that the Gods didn't immediately take him to throw him into Ammit's maw. Did they really intend to let him walk through the Duat like any other soul? Or did they simply not notice him? He didn’t have the answer, but he was sure about one thing. Justice was on the Pharaoh's side, no matter what injustice Bakura suffered himself. They would rip his heart and it wouldn't pass the judgment. Even dead, he was a persistent bastard. He would not let them erase him so easily. And if he couldn't escape that fate, at least he was going to make it a pain for them to catch him.

But right now, he had to decide which direction to take.

Sanura was on the verge of wanting to claw her ears off as the god, Set, recited (yet again) his triumphs over the Serpent of Destruction. She wasn’t certain which tale was worse: This one, or his altered version of the Ennead where he wasn’t completely left looking like a fool.

She’d lost count of the number of millennia she’d endure this torture. Surely spending eternity in Ammit’s gut would be less maddening.

Unable to sit there for another second, she spread her wings and leapt away from Ra’s barque, heading towards the bank of the River of Night. She ignored Aken, the ram-headed ferryman, as he shouted for her to return. She didn’t care that her father, Anubis, had stated multiple times that the stupid barque was the safest place for her…she’d rather take her chances with the abominations that lingered in the Duat.

Being that only half of her blood was from that of a god, Anubis feared that she might fall prey to those who had changed due to becoming forever lost in the fog of the Duat. Little did he know, she had taken a few lessons from both Sekhmet and Maahes, and had already successfully defeated several mutated souls…although…there were a few times she had to ask Sekhmet to heal a few injuries before her father saw them. She was grateful that her aunt was willing to keep a secret (though she suspected her aunt didn’t want to have to explain her involvement in training her niece).

She landed on the bank, shouting in frustration like a child throwing a tantrum (which was exactly what was happening regardless if she chose to acknowledge the fact or not). She wrapped her hands around an imaginary version of Set in an attempt to strangle it.

She caught movement in her periphery, and turned to look at it. There was a confused looking figure standing there wrapped in a crimson cloak. She lowered her hands, tilting her head in curiosity of the…person? The apparel was ancient, and something usually worn only by men…but certain features presented the person as female. Perhaps they were sekhet?

It appeared the person hadn’t noticed her yet. They were probably still in the early stages of trying to figure out where they were…which was common when souls first entered the Duat. Seeing a giant anthropomorphic feline with wings was probably the least of their concern.

((@resuri-art))

[hulahoopsoupgroup]

since ao3 is down, i guess i'll just post some of the shorter chapters of my WIPs here because i will go insane if i'm not able to post any of my fics for an extended amount of time 💀

"Caught in the Angel's Crosshairs" category: f/f pairing: arlecchino/columbina rating: m archive warnings: graphic depictions of violence (though not in this particular chapter) word count (for this chapter): 820

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On a day that the sun finally came out from its hiding place behind the clouds, Arlecchino and Columbina went on a walk through the stale snow that crunched and glistened like a handful of diamonds with each step.

"So, Arlecchino, tell me a bit more about yourself. We've known each other nearly a month now, but I feel as if I don't truly know you," Columbina said, looking up at the white-haired woman through her veil. The way her magenta eyes sparkled in the sunlight sent a delightful chill down Arlecchino's spine.

"I don't think there's anything truly noteworthy about me. I'm a rather boring person, I think."

"Nonsense. Let's start with your life before I so bravely rescued you from the jaws of death. You said that you ran away from home, but you never specified why."

As the words left Columbina's mouth, the two stood atop a sturdy wooden bridge overlooking a half-frozen brook. Arlecchino dusted the snow off of the railing and leaned both of her elbows on it before exhaling a cloud of hot breath.

"Well, I lived with my adoptive father. I never knew who my biological parents were. In fact, I was simply left in a marketplace as an infant one day, and a man named Pierro happened to stumble across me. He took me to his manor and raised me as his own daughter. He was your typical run-of-the-mill strict parent, and he had all of these nonsensical rules to follow. He came up with all sorts of cruel training regimens to shape me into a weapon to be wielded against both his enemies and my own." She trailed off for a moment, giving Columbina time to speak.

"Pierro…Where have I heard that name before? He's sort of an aristocrat, isn't he?"

"Of sorts. You know him?"

"I know of him. I've never met him before, though. Rumors have reached us in the forest that he's a man-child, in a way. Continue with your story."

"That's not entirely wrong. He throws tantrums whenever he doesn't get what he wants. When I was about six, he hired an assistant, Zandik, to help with some project that he was working on. I never got to know the full details, or rather, never got to hear any information more than what I could gather by pressing my ear to the door and eavesdropping. I always felt uneasy around that Zandik character. The way he would look at me would make me want to just uproot myself and run away. He didn't ever do anything until I was nearly ten, though…I'd rather not speak about what he did, but eventually, it became so unbearable that I stuffed a coat full of food and water and set out on my own through a blizzard. At that point, hypothermia was a better option than staying another night in the house that man haunted."

"Mark my words, if I ever see him, I will tear him limb from limb and keep him alive throughout the process, and I will rip his soul out and throw it down into Tartarus."

"That's a nice sentiment," Arlecchino said, smiling as she turned her head to look at Columbina, then narrowing her eyes at the figure a few yards over her shoulder whose eyes glowed like fire under the black hood it wore.

"I know," Columbina mouthed once she saw where Arlecchino's eyes stared. She calmly turned around and locked eyes with the hooded figure, who froze in his place before beginning to shake in utter terror. Arlecchino caught the briefest glimpse of a magenta glow emitting from beneath Columbina's veil. The hooded man stumbled backward until he hit a tree. Columbina began uttering the same ancient language that Rosalyne spoke only a few nights prior, and moving her hands like she were controlling a marionette. The man's arms perfectly mirrored hers, and he could do nothing but tremble in terror as he became her puppet, his arms unwillingly moving to the dagger at his belt, unsheathing it, and toying around with it before plunging it into his own stomach.

"I've never seen magic be used to make someone into your puppet," Arlecchino muttered as the man's body hit the ground, "Fascinating."

"It's quite entertaining, you know? It sure comes in handy whenever someone's trying to kill you, like just now. It can also be useful in…other settings…I think you would find great interest in reading about it. Once we decide to go back home, I'll lend you a book of spells."

The rest of their morning stroll went uninterrupted, and they spent the afternoon back at the cottage, lounging around and reading up on some spells, even practicing the ones they could (which were fairly limited, since Arlecchino had never practiced magic prior to that day). By nightfall, Arlecchino thought herself to be well on her way to becoming a well-practiced witch.

[sunnymused]

The jab doesn't go unnoticed, but to keep appearances, Sun simply pretends he didn't hear it. The last thing he needs right now is someone interfering with the plan, or poking their nose where it doesn't belong, and the newly hired Daycare Assistant is walking a thin line in both regards. Maybe he's thinking about it too much, as he gently wipes a bit of applesauce from the toddler's chin before Nathan takes over; they've gone under the radar for this long, after all.

The display that follows is disgustingly cute. She eats significantly more when he isn't the one holding the spoon, he notes, but that could be chalked up to the rather unsettling face management gave him. Not that it really matters. Whether the child gets fed or throws a tantrum means nothing in the grand scheme of things. They're keeping a careful eye on the place, but everything that's happened thus far isn't out of the ordinary, not counting the fact that tantrums and time outs were increasing in frequency, coupled with short patience from parents and a general sense of unease. It definitely puts the two of them in a strange place. But the days go on and he's unbothered, acting with finesse and doing his best to play pretend.

Freed from the task at hand, he stands upright with a flourish. "WELL, little ones who finish all of their food DO get a good noodle star!" If he could wink, he would, giving the child a soft poke on the nose. She stares at him with big, round eyes and then, without any provocation, bursts into tears.

Now everyone is staring at them, as Sun's hand reels back in shock. Goodness, this one is not having it today, he thinks, smile ever present on his face as he scoops her up and does a little twirl.

"Now, now, there's NO need for that," he coos, "I think someone doesn't like applesauce very much. WELL, lucky for YOU we have other sweets - strawberry pouches, finger food, YOU name it!" His head does a complete spin, facing towards Nathan now without skipping a beat, "SO sorry, you know where the food is kept, right? Do you mind grabbing some for me? I think we should try a different approach."

She's stopped crying, for now, taken aback by the suddenness of what just happened surely, but she continues to squirm in his arms. -- continued from x with @sxturn-bxrs

[sinsodom]

Babygirl, you're out here harassing artists over pixels instead of minding your damn business. You're about as mature as a toddler throwing a tantrum. At least the toddler is still a child and therefore excused, you don't have any excuses for your bitching.

Heyhoo Anon 💚

Still not over the fact that some people care huh... Yeah i have the same problem with kids like you 🤭 people that simply can't work together, have no respect or manners and can't accept they are in the wrong 🤭

You made a smol tiny mistake and told me before who you are so i will close the questions for now 💚 i have a life and in tumblr we prefer respectful talking with niveu 🥰

If you wanna talk personally, please use one of my posts so we can talk :) don't hide behind tumblr cutie 🥰

I hope you get your obsession with me a bit better cause damn thats alot of stalking you do there for simply mentioning to PLEASE tag right 🤔 got myself another stalker 🥰

Have a nice day sweety 💚

[bitemescftly]

She was being ridiculous and she knew it. Her green eyes scanned the pages of the book in her hands and she tried to calm down her wild head for a minute, to actually look at the situation with a calm approach and realise how stupid all of it was - she was not someone to hold silly grudges, she had never before in her life behaved like this. Like a child who did not get what they asked for. Petulant, infantile. Anna hated this. Hated how her emotions seemed to be all over the place the last couple of days, maybe even weeks. She had cried in front of the open freezer last night because her boyfriend ate all of the cherry & chocolate ice cream that seemed to be her one and only joy in this difficult time of morning sickness and caleidoscope of hormonal moodswings.

The brunette was ready to just sigh and apologise for throwing such a tantrum when it was Chester who broke the silence first. Anna looked up from the book in her hand, not even knowing what it was about, at the sound of the man's voice - suddenly without the malicious edge in his tone. The woman watched as the older man extended an olive branch her way without making a huge deal out of it, her heart skipping a beat not only at the meaning behind her lover's words but also the fact that he could be the bigger person and actually step down and let her have her way. As silly as it was. Her boyfriend could never behave like this - he had scoffed at her when he saw her distressed over the lack of ice cream last night.

Her hand reached out slowly, cupping Chester's cheek gently in her pale palm, thumb caressing over his lips "I feel something for you too." Anna admitted with a small smile and shook her head a moment later, rolling her eyes at her own silly behaviour "I know." She spoke softly, now that her jealousy and hurt died down she could see it clear as a day that it was all meant to be a tease, a way to get a rise out of her --- but her brain simply did not work correctly anymore. "I am yours, there is no doubt about that." Anna added, grasping Chester's hand to move it up her thigh and then to her lower stomach, resting the man's large hand against the bump with a smile "---we both are." The brunette finished with a nod as her green eyes seemed to settle into a familiar warmth, easing into the armchair, not realising how stiff her silhouette had been the entire time. A moment later she chuckled and spoke with a taunting tone "I could be tempted to forgive."

with an almost theatrical sigh, he observed anna sitting in her armchair, reading (or pretending to read) the book in her hands. the sight was almost too lovely, if it wasn't for the fact that she seemed more hurt by him than ever before. they always used to play around with each other's jealousy, but right now, even he himself knew that he had gone a little too far. he never wanted to hurt her, but in their situation, sometimes there was no other way. that was true for both of them: sooner or later, the child would be born, and it would call him 'grandpa'. nothing in this world could prepare him for the heartbreak of that, this much he knew.

"i lied", he admitted as he stood up from the sofa and carefully inched closer to her. "i didn't touch her in months, maybe even years. the only thing that still holds our marriage together is a piece of paper. it's convenient to stay together, and getting a divorce would be a scandal. i feel nothing for her. however, i feel something for you." right in front of her, he stopped, looking her straight into the eyes before getting on his knees with an apologetic smile. "i just wanted to see you jealous, to see that you want me to be yours just as much as i want you to be mine, and i shouldn't have done that. can you ever forgive me?" one of his hands gently found its way onto her leg, moving up to her thigh where his thumb stroked her skin through the fabric. yet, he didn't dare to touch her belly, even though he seemed to caress it with his eyes. "you're mine. both of you. and i'm yours."

[natashaismylove]

Schoolgirl fantasy |N. Romanoff

Summary: Natasha has a reputation for being quite the player on campus. Her being the classic frat boy didn’t clash well with y/n’s all-round good behaviour. Natasha enjoys teasing her but takes it a little further once after class.

Pairing: g!p mean fuckboy!natasha x fem!reader (college AU)

Warnings: smut, g!p Natasha, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving), face-fucking, dirty talk, degrading, mocking, slapping, hair pulling, begging kink, size kink, belly bulge kink, innocence kink, slight form of masturbation, pet names (princess)

Word count: 2580

---

“Come on, y/n.” Carol smirked before taking a sip of her beer. “Don’t be a pussy.”

“I’m not participating.” I answered sternly.

“You’re at a party, let loose, have some fun.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “A drinking game doesn’t sound that fun considering we have class tomorrow.”

Natasha shook her head. “Just forget it, Danvers. Don’t waste your time on a goodie two-shoes.”

“Yes, excuse me for caring about my grades.” I said sarcastically.

“You’re also a tease, you know.” Natasha said while leaning back against the couch.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at her. “How am I a tease?”

She shrugged her shoulders before finishing off her drink. “You dress like a porn school girl but wont fuck anyone.”

“So I'm a tease for not letting someone get in my pants that easily?” I scoffed. “Bitch…”

She tilted her head a little while giving me a glare. “Wanna repeat that?”

I leaned forwards, returning her glare. “Bitch.”

She chuckled ironically while shaking her head. “That’s brave.”

“What? You gonna beat me up?” I smirked.

A hand laid on my shoulders and I turned around to look at who it was. Kate leaned down a little to speak into my ear. “Maybe we should head out.”

“Yeah, we wouldn't want your grades to suffer because you didn't get your sleepy time.” Natasha said in a baby voice while fake pouting.

I stared angrily before taking a deep breath, standing up to follow my friend out of the house. We started to walk over the campus to head to our dorms, the fresh air feeling soothing. The dark sky was almost relaxing, everything so peaceful and quiet.

“Are you ok?” Kate broke the silence.

I nodded while keeping my gaze up at the sky. “Yeah. Natasha just pisses me off.”

“I get that. She can definitely be annoying.”

“Plus she has slept with pretty much every girl in school.” I looked at my friend.

“I think it’s some sort of game they’re playing. Like whoever gets the highest body count wins a fucking beer keg or whatever frat people are into.” She chuckled.

I laughed as we kept walking, a bed and sleep coming closer and closer. “Makes sense.”

“We’re too good for that shit.”

“Absolutely.” I agreed.

---

After the bell rang I found a seat in the back of the class, hopefully avoiding the frat guys and their endless annoying banter. I took out my notebook and started to draw a little, just mindlessly moving my pencil around as a way to kill time. The teacher was late, not that it was such a bad thing as it would mean less time in class for the students.

I cared about my grades but I didn't like actually being at school. My grades were accomplishments, a way for me to feel good about myself. I enjoyed the praise and approval from my teachers, but the school part wasn't all that ideal, spending hours a day just waiting for it to end so I could leave. But then again, this wasn't exactly a unique viewpoint.

I snapped out of my thoughts as a pencil hit my head, landing on the floor below with a clang. I breathed in through my nose while slowly turning to look at the person besides me. Natasha smirked at me, tilting her head mockingly.

“What do you want?” I said exasperated.

“What’s got you in such a bad mood, princess?” she teased.

“God…” I groaned. “Maybe the fact that it’s 9 am and you’re throwing pencils at me like a child having a tantrum.”

“Ouch.” she chuckled.

“Fuck off and let me focus on class.”

“What are you supposed to focus on? There’s no teacher.”

“Well just simply fuck off then.” I said, giving her a fake smile.

Finally as the teacher arrived she left me alone. The class went by slowly, meaningless information I knew wouldn't come up again went in one ear and out the other. Like a robot I started to pack up my things as the bell rang, having done the same action millions of times now.

Life was on another level of uneventfulness. Movies definitely lied to us all about what college would be like. An arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me in, the familiar red hair that fell on my shoulder made me loudly sigh.

“What about fuck off do you not understand?”

“The fuck off part.” Natasha grinned at me.

“Why do you keep following me?”

“I’m trying to be friends here.”

“Oh yeah? You wanna be friends now? I thought I was a goody two-shoes and a tease.” I said irritated.

In the blink of an eye I was dragged into a room, the door locking behind us before she was pushing me up against the wall next to it. Her hands caged my head in as she stared down at me, her mouth slightly agape while her gaze was on my lips.

“Why can’t you just shut up for a second.” she spoke, moving her eyes between my own and my mouth.

“What are you doing?” I looked up at her, our height difference clearer now from our close proximity.

“Why is it that you’re the only one who doesn’t beg me to fuck them?” she questioned, lust clear in her voice.

“The playboy act isn't that appealing to me.” I answered, keeping my face blank and voice monotone.

Her hand cupped my cheek, dragging my bottom lip down before sighing. “Bet I could put that pretty mouth to some good use. You’ve been talking back a little too much lately, princess.”

I gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Oh really?”

She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down onto my knees, holding my chin to lift my head up. “Don’t be a brat.”

I smirked up at her. “You seem pretty needy for me.”

She returned my smirk, raising her eyebrows suggestively while shrugging. “Or maybe I’m just doing everyone a favour by fucking the uptightness out of you.”

“You think I’ll just let you fuck me?”

She bent down a little, moving my head higher up so she could look closely at my face. “Oh princess, you’ll be begging me to do so.”

She stood back up, moving her hands onto her jeans to unzip them. She took her cock out of her underwear without removing her pants, stroking it with one hand while wrapping her other one into my hair. “Open up.”

I kept my mouth closed with a teasing smile, raising my eyebrows in a ‘whatcha gonna do now?’ way. She tugged my hair harshly, my head being forced back as I let out a surprised sound at the action. She took the opportunity of my open mouth to press the tip of her cock in between my lips.

“You could’ve just acted like a good girl.” she shook her head mockingly.

She moved my head back and forth onto her cock, using my mouth to get herself off. I placed my hands on her thighs while she fucked my mouth, just tugging on my hair to move me. She hit the back of my throat and I gagged, her response was a teasing chuckle. “What, can you barely take my cock in that mouth of yours?”

Tears filled my eyes before running down my cheeks, her movements speeding up quickly. My nails raked onto her thighs, trying to grip on harder to steady myself as she fucked my throat. She wiped away my tears with one of her hands while the other moved me further down onto her cock. 

“Is my princess having a hard time with my big cock stuffed in her mouth?” she fake pouted. “Maybe you just want me to fill that mouth with my cum?”

My scalp stung from her hold, my throat hurt but I couldn't deny that I was extremely turned on. I managed to kick off one of my shoes and moved my heel under me, sitting down on it to get some friction. I started to grind my hips back and forth, getting some much needed relief.

“Look at that… What a slut trying to get yourself off. You’re that horny for me?” Natasha said before pulling me off of her cock, holding my hair down to look up at her painfully by my hair. I groaned at the sudden movement, gasping as I could finally get some air.

“Fuck-” I coughed.

“I don’t remember telling you to do that.” She looked at me with a strict expression.

“S-sorry.” I got out as I tried to slow down my breathing.

She tugged my head back again, a wince falling from my lips. “You don’t do anything without my fucking permission, got it?”

I gave her a nod, my eyes wide as I looked at her angry face.

Her hand made sharp contact with my face, my head being forced to the side the most I could with her still having a grip on my hair. “Use your words, princess.”

“Yes…”

She tapped my cheek lightly before letting go of me. “Good girl.”

She put her cock back into her underwear before pulling me up and dragging me to a desk. I stumbled before reaching out to steady myself on it, standing up to fix my stance. She pushed me around before lifting me up on the desk, immediately parting my legs so my skirt pooled around my waist.

“Of course you would have white panties. An innocent little princess like yourself needs to be pure and tidy, huh?” she talked while looking between my thighs. She crouched down onto the floor before moving my panties down my legs, stuffing them into her pocket. “I’m keeping those.”

She leaned forward and bit down on my thigh before licking up to my pussy. She moved my legs to lie over her shoulders while she held them down. Her tongue shot out and nudged my clit, a tiny sound was forced out of me before she did the movement again. She circled her tongue around the nub, teasing me slowly to make me break.

“Beg for it.” she said before brushing her lips against my clit.

“No…”

“No? So you don’t want me to eat you out?” she asked with fake innocence.

“Fuck, come on.” I groaned.

Her nails dug into my thighs as she tightened her grip. “Beg me for it and I’ll do it.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed, leaning back onto my palms behind me. “Fuck you.”

She gave a small shake of her head before humming. She let her spit drop down onto my clit and smirked as I let out a moan. “You’re fucking throbbing, just admit you want it and beg me.”

Another huff left me and I scrunched up my face. “Fine…please just do it already.”

“That’s the best you can do?” she raised her eyebrow.

“Fuck- just go down on me!” I whined. “I need it so fucking bad, just lick me, anything, litterally just do anyth- AH~”

My sentence was cut off as she wrapped her lips around my clit, sucking hard before licking. She flicked her tongue over and over again, not letting up once.

“Too much- fuck~”

“You asked for it.” she smirked against me before continuing.

My hips moved against her face, a feeling starting to build in my lower stomach. “K-keep going~”

She lightly bit me before moving down to my hole, slipping her tongue into me while bringing her thumb to my clit. “Knew you would taste good.”

I was moaning loudly, my hand quickly slapping over my mouth to avoid someone hearing us. “Shit-” came out as a muffled noise.

“Are you getting close?”

I nodded, bringing my hand to her hair to hold her against me. “Holy fuck!”

She suddenly stopped before standing up, moving her underwear down enough for her cock to pop out. She dragged me further to the end of the desk before thrusting her cock into me in one stroke. “Fuck yes!” she moaned out.

I gasped and had to hold myself up better to not fall back. “Oh god…”

“S-shit you’re fucking pulsing around me.” She held my thighs up before moving, bucking her hips to force her cock in and out of me.

“Oh- just like that~”

She was breathing hard, fucking me faster with each second passing. “See how much better you are when you don’t go all smart-mouth all the time?” My mouth was wide agape, silent moans spilling out but not heard.

She adjusted her hold on me so she could thrust better up into me, hitting all the right spots each time. “Such a fucking whore~” she moaned. “You needed some cock to fix your attitude, huh?”

My hand covered my mouth again to stop my moans. I bit down on it to not scream as she hit just right. “Fucking hell~”

“This is a fucking fantasy… fucking the school’s ‘good girl’ in a classroom. God, the fuck do you think is gonna happen when you wear that short ass skirt and those thigh high socks- begging to be fucked like the little slut that you are~”

“Oh god!” I let out a muffled moan.

She lifted up my blouse, pressing her palm down onto my stomach. “Look at that fucking bulge… can see how deep inside of that little pussy I am. How can you even take me that fucking deep…”

“Holy shit- fuck me just like that!” I squealed.

“Needy little girl.” she breathed out. “You’re just my fucking cum-slut. Gonna use you whenever I fucking want.”

“I’m gonna cum!”

She let out a breathless chuckle. “Yeah? I’m making you cum, huh? The little whore is gonna cum all over my cock?”

I nodded quickly, my eyes shut tightly as I reached out to grab onto the side of the desk. “Fuck- fuck!”

“Fucking do it then.” she groaned.

I let out a scream-like moan and leaned forwards, gripping the desk so hard I was sure I could break it. I felt myself tighten up as I reached my orgasm, having experienced nothing as big as this one yet. I could feel my pussy pulsing hard, not even my vibrator could make me cum this hard.

I felt Natasha pull out of me, my eyes opening to see her fist her cock until she came onto my pussy. Her cum hit all over the insides of my thighs as well and I watched as it dripped onto the desk slowly.

We were both breathing hard and I looked at her as she stuffed her cock back into her pants before zipping them up. She grabbed her bag from the floor before turning around by the door, giving me a wink and a smirk. “That was fun, princess. You should probably fix that mess before getting to class. I know you have that test…good luck focusing after this.”