#Mech writes

[mechformers]

Reypaytun

[Reypaytun [ˈɾɛj.paj.tun] - Blood red (color) ]

6.7k words | Masterpost |

Tsu'tey x Human Reader

Summary: Tsu'tey wakes up after a night of vigorous lovemaking to blood smeared between your thighs. He does not take it well, panicking hard as he "flees the scene", effectively leaving you behind. Eventually, he learns what really happened and once he does, Tsu'tey is not afraid anymore.

Content warning: Period blood, Period, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Period Sex, Period Cunnilingus, Period Fingering, Squirting, Stomach/Belly Bulge, Size Difference, Na'vi/Human. Idk I feel like "Tsu'tey is not afraid anymore" should be a tag of its own lol

Authors Note: So this was supposed to be pure, filthy porking and nothing more. BUT(!) as with most things that I do, it caught a case of the feels and it became both angsty and filthy, and way out of hand... Sorry? lol Also, I stared too long at that manip and now it just looks stupid and wrong all over lol Might add it on a later date though, if I can find a way to make it look okay, and most definitely to Ao3 when that day comes lol Sorry, I know it won the poll T.T

Tsu'tey didn’t know how he managed to end up where he currently was, curled up behind you, a sky demon, after a long night of intense lovemaking. For months, he had battled with his own emotions, punished himself for the sheer betrayal his heart was pushing on him once he realized what the speeding of his heart actually meant. At first, he had thought it was a side effect of surviving the war with the sky demons - after falling from such a great height. But in the end, he had to be honest with himself that the speeding of his heart had happened long before the war officially came to a head.

No, Jakesully was to blame for this, and no one else. He had brought you with him when he convinced Eytukan and Mo’at to welcome Grace Augustine back into the clan. Along this Normspellman person, you had walked in beside them, a tiny little creature, speeding as fast as you could with your ridiculously small legs to keep up. You had been so helpless and pathetic that the sheer sight of you had made Tsu’tey angry at Jakesully to have allowed you to even join them. Had you been present with Jakesully and Grace Augustine when his betrayal was revealed, however, Tsu’tey knew that he would not have dealt with the situation as reasonably as he had. As it was, however, he ended up falling from the metallic flying machine, littered with bullet holes. Crashing through the forest to the ground, the sky demons greeted him with even more horror. When he came to again, it was your small hands that tended to him until Jakesully and Neytiri could bring him to Mo’at.

After losing his kuru, Tsu’tey had not been kind to anyone, but especially not to you in particular. The words he had said, the strength with which he had grabbed or shoved you, were beneath him, but the fact that it had happened, he could never hide from. And nor did he. Once he got his feet under himself again, once his mind cleared enough for him to realize a thing or two about this new life of his - he had nothing but the wellbeing of the clan and you on his mind. Convincing you to forgive him, to give him a chance, however, had not been easy. In fact, it had demanded all of Tsu’tey’s spare time to prove himself worthy of your affection.

In the end, you reluctantly agreed to date him - a sky people invention where two or more people become mates on a trial basis, to see if you’re compatible. It pained Tsu’tey to no extent to know that this was all you were willing to give him, that you trusted him just about as far as you could throw him. But he had done this, had caused this situation, he needed to stand steady in it or leave you be. Now, Tsu’tey was a lot of things, but a quitter, he had never been.

The courting process - the dating - had been long and difficult, but eventually, you had agreed to live with him in the kelku he had made specifically with you in mind. it had everything you needed within it and although you had been skeptical at first, after seeing all the hard work he had laid down with you in mind, something seemed to click right for once. It made Tsu’tey relax a little, made his anxiousness calm down enough for him to noticeably lighten up again. The first time he had cracked a joke or two, laughing joyfully, Jakesully had choked with surprise. It had been a very good feeling indeed.

With you in his life, everything just seemed easier. Laughter came easier to him, his normally stressed and harsh demeanor mellowed out and despite the fact that you are a sky person, Tsu’tey has never been happier in his life. It’s probably why he lets himself lose control while making love to you. The sounds you make beneath him, the gasped whispers of endearment as you cling to him only fuels his need for you further. For hours, he plows into you, driving you over the edge time and time again until you’re a sweaty mess beneath him, your skin slick and salty, and warm. As his cock presses as far as it can go into you, bulging your stomach enough that he can feel himself, Tsu’tey knows that there is nowhere he would rather be than right here in your arms.

Releasing one last time inside of you, Tsu’tey kisses your lips so softly, it makes you whine. Smiling down at you, he notices how your eyes glitter as you stare up at him. The right thing to do would be to clean you up, to bathe your sore muscles, but at that moment, Tsu’tey loses against the voice in the back of his head that’s telling him to let his scent seep into the very pores of your skin. You fall asleep in each other's arms like that, with loving words and soft kisses on your lips. It is the best few hours of sleep Tsu’tey has had in ages, the best sleep he has had in the month you have lived in their kelku.

But when Tsu'tey awakens early the next morning there's something wrong. Distantly, he registers an iron scent on the air that he knows all too well, but as his mind is slowly waking up, he doesn't pay it much mind. Instead, he runs his large hand over your small body, grabbing your small breast in his large hands as he kisses your shoulder, smiling into your skin as you too awake with a positively satisfied sigh. Tsu’tey runs his hand down your body, over your waist, squeezing your curved and soft hip appreciatively before continuing down to your subtle thighs, pulling a breathy moan from your lips that has his own skin erupt in a million small goosebumps. Continuing on his joyous morning journey, Tsu’tey presses his hand between your legs to find your core already wet and waiting for him. Pressing a finger into you, he lets out a rumble from deep within his chest at how ready you are for him.

Pulling back, Tsu’tey guides you over to lay on your back before slotting himself between your thighs, your hot, moist core smearing slick over his breastbone where it presses into you. Grinning up, he bends his head down, kissing your shoulder, your breasts, giving each nipple a good suck, before continuing down to your molten core, never breaking eye contact with you as he starts his breakfast. Your beautiful eyes are probably why he doesn’t notice the distinct coppery iron scent or the blood that is smeared on the inside of your thighs. Your breathy gasp as his thumb circles your pearl is probably why he doesn’t notice the bloody trail that has seeped from your puffed and raw cunt before he’s there. It takes him back with such shock that he's on his knees between your widespread thighs before either one of you can register what has happened. Lifting his hand to reach out to the blood, he's met with the bloody picture of his own digits between your bloody thighs and core.

"I have hurt you, yawne," Tsu’tey mumbles low, his voice small, even to his own ears. Getting up on your elbows to see what's going on, you look at the blood on his hands and on his chest before you look down at yourself, noticing the blood smeared between your thighs.

"Shit," you swear, clapping your thighs together, hiding your core from Tsu'tey's eyes in apparent shame. "It's alright, Tsu'tey. This happens."

It is alright?

This happens?

Tsu'tey can't believe what he's hearing. His careless mating has hurt you, has caused you to bleed from one of your most sacred places. The immense pain you must have been in while he took his pleasures from you… Shame floods through him and before you're able to say anything more, he gets up to his feet, grabs his tweng and bow, and flees your kelku. Running as fast as his legs can take him, Tsu’tey doesn’t stop until he’s crashing to his knees by the river. Vigorously, he scrubs his hand and chest until his skin feels raw. He can’t get the image of your bloodied cunt out of his head, nor the vulnerable way you had looked up at him. With great shame and stones weighing heavy in his heart, he gets up to meet the hunting party he was to be a part of that morning, only for the hunters to stare weirdly at him.

“Where is your battle band, brother? Your blade?” Atan asks as he steps up to him, Takuk closely following behind.

Patting the bottom of his ribs, he finds the skin bare from its usual protective layer. However, Tsu’tey could not go back to their kelku, even though you might not be there anymore. The sheer thought of crossing your path makes his ears bend painfully low against his skull with shame. Closing his eyes he takes a deep breath before opening them again to stare at his old friend.

“I will go without,” He growls too harshly, making Atan look at him with concern.

“Brother, I do not think that is wise,” Atan starts, but Tsu’tey cuts him off.

“It will be fine,” Tsu’tey bites back at his friend.

“Go back home to get it, we will wait,” Takuk presses, his gentle voice making Tsu’tey sigh deeply.

“Let us go before the hunt will be in vain,” He doesn’t miss the way Atan and Takuk look at each other with worried expressions.

The hunt is not successful. Or at least, not on his part. Tsu’tey is unfocused and stressed, resulting in him missing each and every shot before he’s even able to let the arrows go. When they return, it is without honor for Tsu’tey. Without bidding his friends farewell, Tsu’tey leaves the party to stew alone. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long before Jakesully finds him and somehow that is even worse.

“What’s wrong, brother? Trouble in paradise?” Jakesully ask, immediately souring Tsu’tey’s already sour mood.

“Go away, demon,” Tsu’tey growls, noticing how harsh the words are spoken, making him involuntarily wince.

“Demon, huh? That bad?” Jakesully hums thoughtfully, falling into silence beside Tsu’tey. It takes hours of the two of them just sitting in silence together, Jakesully waiting him out, letting Tsu’tey wallow in his own shame and misery until finally, Tsu’tey breaks his silence.

“I hurt Y/n during our mating,” Tsu’tey admits, the words all but a whisper of shame, but of course, Jakesully hears them.

“Good hurt or bad hurt?” He asks as if there is a difference.

“There is no such thing as good hurt, Jakesully,” Tsu’tey growls angrily at his stupid friend.

“Trust me, brother there definitely is and I can assure you, with your size difference, there absolutely is,” The cheeky grin on Jakesully’s face is beyond infuriating to Tsu’tey.

“I made her bleed from her core, tell me where the good hurt is in that, demon,” Tsu’tey hisses before his shoulders slump, and the anger at Jakesully bleeds back into shame at his own actions.

“Oh…” Jakesully hums, his brother finally understanding Tsu’tey’s distress.

“And do you know what she said to me?” Tsu’tey huffs a humorless chuckle, “It is alright. This happens. Which means that it is not the first time I have hurt her like this, without noticing it - without her telling me. I have let her suffer because of my own greed,”

“Are you sure it isn’t just her period?” Jakesully hums, “I mean, she said this happens, right? The Na’vi don’t have them, but humans do. And it’s not as if she’s stopped your mating, right?”

“What is this period you are talking about?” Tsu’tey asks, because no, you haven't stopped their mating before. If anything, you have been overly eager for it.

“It’s uh… well, Y/n could probably explain it better, but each month human females bleed from their… you know,” Jakesully gestures between his legs, as if the word were somehow shameful.

“From the cunt?” Tsu’tey deadpans, watching as Jakesully’s ears flatten and his cheeks darken with heat.

“So crude,” Jakesully sighs before grinning, “But yeah. It's their reproductive organs, their uh… uterus? The womb. Shredding itself to prep-”

“Shredding itself?” Tsu’tey interrupts, his eyes huge as worry overcomes him.

“It’s uh, it’s her body’s way of preparing a new egg to be fertilized so that she can become pregnant - uh with child, after the current egg didn’t take,” Jakesully hastily continues, his discomfort so clear on his face and in his voice.

“So she is laying an egg?” Tsu’tey fills in, feeling bad for not having succeeded in fertilizing the egg you had worked so hard to prepare for him - for them.

“What? Fuck, no,” Jakesully barks, wiping his hands over his face, “Shit… uh, female humans carry a child in their stomachs, in their womb. It’s a… aw hell, I don’t know what it is, alright. There’s an egg, you jizz in her, she might become pregnant and the egg will develop into a child. If she doesn’t become pregnant, the egg will get washed out with the blood before being replaced with a new one.”

“I see,” Tsu’tey hums, but in reality, he does not see anything. Whatever Jakesully is talking about sounds weird and alien to his ears.

“Some women are in really great pain because of it, while others… - brother, where are you going?” Jakesully shouts after him, but all Tsu’tey can focus on is getting to your kelku as fast as possible.

He had left you alone in your kelku while you possibly were in great pain. He had left you there, too caught up in his own shame and emotions to hear you out when you had tried to explain it to him. Passing his people, he takes no care of them as he rushes as fast as his long legs can take him. Eventually, he’s crashing through the doorway of your kelku making you gasp with surprise where you’re preparing a yovo fruit for yourself.

“Yawne,” He pants, entirely out of breath.

“Are you alright, Tsu’tey?” Your worried words greet him as you put the knife down to greet him.

“Am I… Yawne, I did not know,” Tsu’tey falls to his knees before you, pressing his forehead to your stomach as he bends in on himself. Your hands immediately come up to hold him, your tiny hands gently caressing the base of what remains of his kuru, as you hold him close.

“Are you in pain?” He continues after lifting his head when his worries start to soothe, “Is the egg causing you pain?”

“Ah, you’ve talked with Jake I take it?” You hum with a soft chuckle, your beautiful eyes glittering as you look up at him in amusement.

“I have,” Tsu’tey confirms, bending his head down to look at you. “I do not fully understand, Jakesully mentioned that you might be in great pain, and I… Yawne, I left you,”

“It’s alright, yawntu, this is new for you. I would have warned you, but I didn’t expect it to come so soon,” You look down at him with your gentle eyes as if he hung the stars in the sky.

“I thought that I had hurt you,” He mumbles shamefully, “That I had caused you to bleed,”

“So your first cause of action at seeing me bleed would be to run away, got it,” You grinned up at him, teasing him as if this was somehow funny to you.

“Yawne! I…-” He starts, the protest and shame flaring up inside of him. How could he have acted this disgracefully to his mate?

“I’m just kidding, I’m just kidding, Tsu’tey,” You laugh openly as you push his head down into your stomach again, your weak arms holding him close as you chuckle.

“I have disgraced our bond, Y/n,” Tsu’tey starts, his heart breaking in his chest.

“Hey, no, Tsu’tey,” You urge, pushing his head up so that he’s kneeling before you at eye level instead. “Listen to me closely, alright?”

You don’t continue before Tsu’tey reluctantly nods his head, your small hands still on his face, comforting him through what must be a quite distressing time for you.

“Reacting as you did to seeing blood is alright. Especially for someone who has experienced violence as you have,” You pause until Tsu’tey realizes that you’re waiting for him to nod his head in understanding, “We mate with such passion that your conclusion wasn’t farfetched,”

“I do not know this word; farfetched,” Tsu’tey looks into your eyes, reveling in your patience with him.

“It means that it was not a foolish conclusion to come to, that it was within your right to think of it,” You smile again as if he has hung the stars in the sky while your thumbs caress his cheekbones comfortingly. “I’m small compared to you, and you are certainly huge in all aspects of the word,”

Tsu’tey can’t keep his chest from puffing up with pride, no more than he can keep his lips from forming a smug smile. Huffing up at him, your fingers take hold of the base on his ears, making them twitch.

“Behave, yawntu,” You grin up at him, letting him know that it is all in fond fun. “You have never and will never hurt me while mating, Tsu’tey. I don’t know if you’re even capable of doing such a thing,”

You stare up at him while he lets your words sink in, coming to the conclusion that you know best and that Tsu’tey has to trust your judgment. Sighing with the release of his stress and worry, Tsu’tey bends his head down to rest his forehead against yours. It’s comforting the way you’re still holding onto him, grounding him as if you somehow already knew what he needed despite your young bond.

“This period, this blood, can you tell me more about it? I wish to understand it so that I can better help you when it comes,” Tsu’tey hums, opening his eyes to look into yours.

“Of course, yawntu,” You smile beautifully up at him before slowly pulling away.

Taking his hand in yours, you lead him over to your nest, waiting for him to sit down before you bend your small legs to sit between his bigger ones. Taking both of his hands in yours, you look up at him as you start to explain what a period is, chuckling softly at his horrified expressions while explaining about your uterus shredding and how that causes the blood to dribble out. You walk him through everything, about how to contain it, about how you usually manage the pain, and how there are different methods.

“How else may I help you ease the pain, yawne?” Tsu’tey presses on when he notices you’re holding something back.

“It’s uh…” You stutter, your beautiful face darkening with an embarrassment Tsu’tey doesn’t understand. “There’s the act of mating, of - of reaching completion,”

“Mating?” Tsu’tey parrots, his eyes growing huge as his ears rotate forward with undivided attention.

“The act of mating reduces the cramping and reaching completion eases the pain,” You mumble, not able to meet his eyes head-on, “But it’s not something you have to do. I’ve got my heating pads, warm blankets, and excellent pain meds,”

At the mention of medication, Tsu’tey wrinkles his nose with distaste. He had never been fond of the sky people medicine, and to hear that you regularly take them to control a pain he could be helping you with, makes his anger flare. Slicking his ears back with annoyance, Tsu’tey huffs loudly.

“It is no bother for me to mate with you, yawne,” He starts, noting how your cheeks darken even further, “A little blood has never scared me before and it will not start now. Please, let me help you,”

“You really don’t have to, Tsu’tey,” You try again, your embarrassed little face looking up at him full of love and wonder.

“I want to,” Tsu’tey whispers, bending down to rest his forehead to yours again.

“Are you sure, yawntu?” Your eyes portray it all, your uncertainty, your need for him.

“I am, yawne,” Tsu’tey rumbles as he crawls over you, forcing your small body to bend backward to lay back in your nest.

It brings him straight to your hot core, the coppery iron scent strong and warm when he takes a deep breath. He isn’t afraid anymore though. This period had personally insulted him, but now, Tsu’tey would show you what a man truly was. Growling, he plops down on you, the entirety of his weight pressing the air from your small lungs, just how you liked it. The warm heat from your core wraps around Tsu’tey’s lower chest, lulling him to grind his hips into the soft nest beneath your bodies.

“You take my breath away, yawne,” Tsu’tey breathes as he lets the bridge of his nose run up the side of your neck, smirking childishly when it makes your breath stutter in your chest.

“Tsu’tey…” You gasp as he reaches your lips, kissing you long and deep.

The way your small hands clutch at his shoulders to hold on makes something inside of him snap. It’s ridiculous how every touch from you sends him over the edge, breaking the hard-set control he has over himself. You’re simply intoxicating to him. Running his hand down your flank, Tsu’tey lets his fingers flutter over every dip and roll of your soft skin, taking pleasure in the way the contact makes you moan. It never ceased to amaze him just how soft your skin was. The very first time you had allowed him to touch, to feel you, he had lost himself in your body, emerging only when the sun rose once more. His eyes had been blown wide the following day, much to everyone’s amusement.

Now, it was no different. The very scent of you stoked the fire within him, edging him closer to the point of no return, to the point where there was no one but you and him in this life that Eywa had graced them with. Giving you parting butterfly kisses, Tsu’tey dips his head lower, letting his lips trace an incoherent trail until he reaches the top of your chest. He’ll have to part with your thighs around his chest if he is to continue. A part of him doesn’t want to, but the needier part of him claws at his insides for Tsu’tey to present him with the sweetest nectar of your core. It’s the part of him that wins, in the end. Wrapping his hands around your thighs, Tsu’tey gently parts them from around his chest, pushing them back, opening you up like the most precious of flowers.

He’s presented with the same sight as he was that morning, your cunt puffy and red, needy and ready for his ministrations. The blood that slowly comes from your parted lips doesn’t scare him anymore. It’s so… little? Yet, that very morning, it had seemed almost too immense for him to comprehend. Curiously, Tsu’tey runs the pad of his thumb through the red liquid, marveling at the way it colors the blue skin of his thumb. Wiping it away from your entrance, however, only produces more as he forces your lips to part. Smiling to himself, Tsu’tey bends down to kiss the inside of your knees before starting his journey to the core of his desire. He takes a moment to marvel at your own stripes, the silvery, pink, brown, and purple smooth grooves that paint your skin in some places. Never would he have believed sky people worthy of such beauty, but yet again, you had proved him wrong. Your stripes are so different from his own, more like the lightning that crosses over the beautiful Pandora skies. Running his fingers over the stripes on your lower stomach, Tsu’tey marveled at your beauty for a moment before getting to his stomach between your spread thighs.

This close to your cunt, Tsu’tey can see everything. Hears your heart beating frantically in your chest as your blood courses through your veins. Tsu’tey can smell everything. And it makes something wild within him roar to life. His mind zeroes in on one thing and one thing only. Distantly, he registers that you’re talking to him, that your small hands find their way into his braids, but he’s lost in the spell you have over him. Running the pads of his thumbs along the outer lips of your cunt, Tsu’tey is helpless but to lick his lips as your red speckled slick coats his journey. Pressing gently on the silky smooth skin, he watches as your cunt opens up for him, watches as the impossibly small slit stretches the further he pushes.

Repeating the motion, Tsu’tey growls desperately when a fresh dollop of slick emerges from your cunt, the red speckles in it almost beautiful as it slides downward. Unable to hold back anymore, Tsu’tey leans forward, bumping his nose into your swollen pearl as kisses the warm, slick core of your cunt. The sound is almost rudely loud in your otherwise quiet kelku. The slick sticks to his lips in thin strings when he pulls away just far enough to meet your eyes over the swell of your stomach and breasts. Licking his lips, his nostrils flare as the taste hits his tongue, effectively sending his brain into a frenzy. Almost immediately, Tsu’tey dives back in, this time plunging his tongue straight into your core, lapping eagerly at your soft, warm walls. His nose keeps hitting your precious pearl, the hot air from his lungs blowing over it in rapid succession as he dines on a taste he’s never had before.

The taste of your coppery blood combined with the impossibly sweet and heady taste of your natural slick had Tsu’tey all but whining between your thighs, his digits tightening around the plump of your thighs as he held on for dear life. Driving his tongue as far as he’s able to reach inside of you, Tsu’tey breathes heavily as he makes a seal around your cunt, sucking while he licks at your insides. The taste of you explodes on his taste buds with each lick, making him push further and further to get more. He feels almost desperate when your small hands pull hard at his braids, trying your best to lift his head from your molten core.

“T-t..” You stutter, your breath coming harder than his, “T’ey,”

“Yawne,” Tsu’tey answers your call, his voice husky and raw, even to his own ears.

But you’re too far gone. With the little break that you obtained, your head falls back, hitting their nest while you continue to breathe heavily, your small chest lifting and sinking rapidly. It fuels something so primal inside of Tsu’tey that he physically had to clutch onto the bedding to keep himself from pouncing on you. He doubts the stretch would have truly hurt you, had he not been able to hold himself back. The amount of slickness and the plump readiness of your cunt told him as much, but even though you had told him how much you loved the stretch, Tsu’tey was acutely aware of your size difference.

So instead, Tsu’tey eases two digits inside of you, grinning proudly when he meets no resistance, just the slick, plump heat of your hole. Spreading his fingers, Tsu’tey watches as your head bends further back, a moan escaping your gorgeous red-bitten lips as he adds another finger. Like this, you’ve told him, he’s bigger than any human male known to history. It makes his chest puff ridiculously with pride. Add his own cock to the mix and you were a pampered little mate.

“What are you thinking about, yawntu?” You huff a chuckle as you look down at him.

“Nothing, yawne,” Tsu’tey smiles as he leans up to kiss your lips.

Pulling back, there’s red smeared on your face. The realization that he’s wearing you on his own face has his tail whipping painfully behind him with excitement. There’s something so intimate about this, an experience a Na’vi mate could never give him. For a moment, Tsu’tey thanks whatever power Eywa had in changing his mind, whatever made him turn on his opinion and pursue you. Staring down at you, there was no doubt in Tsu’ey’s mind that no atokirina could ever compare to your beauty. Try as she might, the Great Mother could not create anything even comparable to the beauty you held in his eyes. Grinning smugly, Tsu’tey spread your legs even wider with his knees, huffing proudly when your breath hitches.

The way his chest breathes deeply makes his heavy cock glide through the slick of your cunt, your size difference enough for there to be enough motion between you. The sheer heat of your cunt never ceases to amaze him, and try as he might, he’s unable to keep his hips from thrusting, to keep himself from seeking out your tight, slick heat. Pulling back, Tsu’tey meets your eyes as the head of his cock catches on the slick, hot “O” of your cunt. Swallowing audibly, he watches as your body shivers, your cunt spasming, kissing his cock head with an excited greeting. Wetting his lips, Tsu’tey presses forward, feeling his cock crown the tight circle of your cunt before you clench, sending his cock sliding through your slick to end under your navel.

“Tsakem rä'ä si, txopu rä'ä si, yawne,” Tsu’tey growls, his accent heavy, “Do not do that. Do not be scared, yawne,”

“I could never, yawntu,” Lifting your small arms, Tsu’tey bends down for you to grab onto the back of his neck, letting your weak arms press him down into a gentle kiss that touches his very soul.

Leaning his forehead to yours, Tsu’tey tries pushing forward again. The angle is weird like this, making it difficult to line up, but he wants to be close to you, wants to watch the exact moment he breaches your body, just so that he can see your pupils dilate to nothing but black. His cock catches on the ripe, slick circle of your molten core, but this time, when he presses forward, you don’t clench beneath him, denying him access. Instead, your body grows boneless beneath him as you relax, allowing him passage to the innermost sacred place of your body. It’s the easiest, most difficult glide Tsu’tey has had in his entire life. Never before has your body felt like this, clutching onto him as if the very thought of him leaving sent panic through your slick walls.

Groaning, Tsu’tey stills, letting the stretch of his size cement for just a moment before he pulls his hips back, tutting at your distressed whining before he slams into you, this time guided by the slick from his first slide. It fills you up to the limit, the head of his cock hitting that gloriously smooth and plush thing deep inside of you. It caresses the shaft of his cock, just behind his sensitive head while le butts into your wall. Distantly, he knows that he can go no further, but he still tries, pressing until his hips finally meet the plush meat of the crook of your thighs. You’re spread so wide beneath him that for just a moment, he wonders how you haven’t broken yet. Instead, you’re clutching onto him as if your very life depended on it, and when he pushes up on his hands, pressing the full weight of his body on your connection, he can see why.

Beneath your navel, there’s the clear indentation of his own cock beneath your skin. It isn’t the first time Tsu’tey has seen it, but there’s something about it this time that sends him over the edge. Involuntarily, his hips thrust hard, sending your body upward with the sheer force behind it. Your small shoulders meet his wrists, stopping your journey as his cock presses further into you from beneath. It’s a surreal thing to see. One moment, you’re gasping, eyes wide in shock, and the next, there’s something hot spraying from your cunt against his abdomen as your cunt ripples harder around him than ever before while you scream. Your orgasm lasts longer this time, squeezing Tsu’tey’s cock hard as your cunt tries its hardest to milk the juices that it so longs for. But it’s not the orgasm that has Tsu’tey perplexed.

“What was that, yawne?” Tsu’tey asks, his voice unrecognizable to his own ears.

But all you respond with is a series of ‘oh god, oh god, oh god’ while you covered your face from his eyes. Now, Tsu’tey was no fool, he knew your rambled string of words meant that you were in incomprehensible pleasure. It had happened the first time he ate from your core, the first time his fingers had entered your cunt, and especially the very first time his cock had stretched you around his size. So with that knowledge, Tsu’tey set out to get the same reaction again, if only for his own pleasure at seeing it.

With the same eye for detail, Tsu’tey repeats his motions, pulling back before entering you halfway once again. It sends your head back with a long wet moan, your puffy lips parted as you grab a hold of his wrists, preparing yourself for what you so obviously have anticipated to come. Grinning, Tsu’tey slams into you a little harder than he had meant to, but it’s all the same to you. Your loud moans fill your kelku as Tsu’tey presses further, testing the limit. It doesn’t happen immediately, like the first time, but Tsu’tey isn’t deterred. He is a man on a mission, a mission he is hellbent to succeed. And sure enough, after a while, your mouth starts forming that series of ‘no no no no no’ that always comes before something mesmerizing. It spurs Tsu’tey on, his mind chasing that burst of excitement, so pure, from your body’s core.

Thrusting faster, harder, Tsu’tey is not disappointed when he looks down just in time to see that same clear spray emerge from your core, coating his abdomen not just once as before, not twice, but four times. In time with your cunt contracting around him, Tsu’tey was helpless but to give into your core’s demand. With a final thrust, he sheats himself as deep as he’s able to while his body pumps you full of his seed. He’s breathing hard as he lays down on top of you, holding you captive beneath him while you breathe.

“You are,” Tsu’tey pants, taking deep breaths before continuing, “Amazing, yawne,”

Kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your gasping lips, Tsu’tey takes pity on you for a second, balancing most of his weight on his elbows, only for you to whine in annoyance. Huffing a chuckle, Tsu’tey slides down carefully once more, watching you closely as his full weight is on you again. Never would he have imagined his weight to be such a comfort to you, but as you hide your face between his pecs, Tsu’tey is left to drift on the sensation of your combined bodies while you land. He doesn’t know how long it takes, but by the time you emerge from his chest, the chill of the setting sun has started to creep into your dark kelku.

“Welcome back to Pandora, yawne,” Tsu’tey teases, only for you to clench your cunt around his sensitive cock, making him hiss.

“You are a cruel man, yawntu,” You huff, but the poorly hidden amused smile lets him know that your words have no bite to them.

“I am,” Tsu’tey agrees, grinning widely as he kisses your lips. “What does that make you, ma muntxate?”

“An innocent bystander?” You try, your sheepish grin mesmerizing Tsu’tey’s heart.

“You, ma yawne,” Tsu’tey starts, leaning down to hover over your lips, “Have never been innocent a day in your life,”

It brings the most beautiful laughter from your lips, a laughter that doesn’t immediately die down, but instead continues on until it gradually fizzles out. At this moment, Tsu’tey wishes that he could make tsaheylu with you, that he could show you the love that blossoms in his heart, a love that is so strong he’s not certain he could stay true to Eywa if challenged. But you do not have a kuru and he… he does not have his kuru anymore. Still, with everything that you are, you try your best to fill the gap he’s missing, letting him know how much he’s loved without actually having said the words before.

“I love you, Tsu’tey,” Because, of course, you would read him so easily. The notion is no less meaningless to Tsu’tey’s ears though.

“I love you, yawne,” He hums, kissing your lips slowly before hovering above them again, catching your eyes in his, “I have for a very long time,”

It’s an intimate moment, one heavy with emotions, with trust, and honor. You’re both from different worlds, but somehow, together, you have made it work, supporting each other with everything that you were. Tsu’tey knows that there will be nothing in this life or the next that can keep him apart from you. Beneath him, you reach a hand out to brush two of his braids beneath his ear, your small fingers gently rubbing his ear on your way back. Smiling, Tsu’tey gets up to his knees, watching his cock move inside of your small cunt. Pulling out, he watches as your red-speckled slick and his luminescent seed stick to his cock. There’s a mixed string connecting the head of his cock to the puffy mouth of your cunt for a moment before it breaks in the chill evening air. A moment later, however, his seed runs out of your wide-stretched, red hole. It’s beautiful.

Leaning forward, Tsu’tey attaches his mouth to your open cunt once more, sucking his seed and your slick from your abused and tired hole. If possible, your cunt is even hotter, even softer than before as he digs his tongue inside, slurping loudly even to his own ears. The plush of your thighs has collapsed shut on each side of his head, your cute weakness trying to push his head away, but Tsu’tey will drink his fill of you. Not even your gasped whines from above stop him in his ministrations before, as you desperately ramble, something sweet hits his tongue and face once, twice before your thighs fall dead from his head.

It takes him a moment to realize what has happened, but when he does, his cock twitches with interest. You, however, lay completely boneless above him, your breathing coming hard and fast, your eyes closed. Taking pity on you, Tsu’tey licks his lips before gathering you up in his arms. A bath would do you both good before some food and sleep. In the morning, Tsu’tey would quench his thirst for knowledge and you would let him, one way or the other. Grabbing a blanket, Tsu’tey wraps it around you, covering your modesty as he learned the hard way how sky people valued that sort of thing. Walking out of your kelku, Tsu’tey headed toward the river.

“Brother,” Jakesully shouted from the entrance of the communal meal, “Dinner was served a while ago,”

“We will eat at home, Jakesully,” Tsu’tey turns to his… friend, only for the man in question to holler loudly.

“Yo, Tsu’tey got his wings, alright!” Jakesully announces loudly, pulling the curious stares of Atan and Takuk.

Tsu’tey pays them no mind, however, as he continues his walk down to the river. He has a mate to take care of, one who brings him such joy he hardly believed he was still alive some days. To know that you felt the same as he - Tsu’tey could ask nothing more of the Great Mother.

That pesky egg of yours, however…

[mitoad]

everyone always talks about ‘medic reader’ this and ‘teammate reader’ that but what abt weapons engineer/mechanic reader ?

just a silly little fella who helps out the 141 with their weapons when they go out of whack, who works very closely with the team to coordinate certain weapons for specific missions .

they’d probably have a really close bond with soap , both having fun with testing demolitions together . who’s able to add in ideas and carry conversations with you when you ramble on about weapons . johnny pulls you close to him when they get startled from the loud noise of an explosion , laughing a little at how they excuse their sudden vulnerability with ‘not expecting it to be that loud’.

price who seeks them out when he’s having issues with his cm901, having to endure your age-long lectures about not accidentally slamming the barrel to hard. he subconsciously makes sure the brush his hand over yours when he finally retrieves his now-fixed weapon.

yeah nyways weapon mech! reader has my heart

[catgirlredux]

The Corporation is distinctly opposed to calling pilots "angels". They've released several statements recommending that officers silence any such language, saying it "threatens the integrity of the forces", and that HAKs and the pilots who control them are "tools, not deities". But I mean, when you see the way a suit's holoprojectors form a pulsing ring around a pilot's helmet, or when one slumps forwards out of its cockpit to reveal that thick mass of wires creeping from its back, it's impossible not to see the resemblance. And when, like most of the men stationed here, you've found yourself pinned down by heavy artillery fire from two directions with no chance of survival, but out of the heavens a Bishop-class rig emerges and razes the enemy with what can only be described as holy flame? I mean hell, that's enough to make anyone a believer (pardon my language).

I have a buddy who deals with the HAKs directly. He works in biomechanics, combat simtech or whatever. I asked him once what he thought about the whole "angel" thing. He got real quiet, and he looked directly at me and said, "you don't even know the half of it." And I stared right into his eyes and I could see that same heavenly flame burning in there and I knew that he had seen something he couldn't quite understand, but that he loved with all his heart.

[makuta-tobi]

The Company hates its pilots just as much as it needs us. We are nothing more than cattle to them, bred for combat. But even breeding requires time, and patience. To pick and choose who, and when.

If they had figured out how, they would have stopped altogether, and ripped our brains out, stuffing them into the machines. But none of them have any idea how to keep a brain functioning without a living human body. That didn't stop them from learning how to plug into our brains directly, to have our own gray matter interface with 400 tonnes of metal.

Another alarm meant I was being deployed. I was lucky, I'm the second generation since they figured out the brain connection. For the first group, linking with the machines was too painful to bear. Then some egghead scientist mixed up the perfect cocktail of drugs to change that. It flips the pain/pleasure receptors of your brain right around so it doesn't hurt at all.

The inside of my pilot suit is coated in a slick, viscous liquid that I don't know much about. It glides on easy, and compresses my body tightly, the collar presses against my throat; not enough to cut off oxygen, but it squeezes my neck firmly.

I climb into the cockpit, and place my left arm in the cuff. With my right hand, I lift my stringy hair away from the port drilled into the base of my skull. I slide back, and the neural connector clicks loudly into place. The needle in the cuff pierces my skin right where it's meant to.

My breathing gets faster, and I feel the blood in my body rush as my arteries widen, my heart pounding faster. My legs tremble and my lower lip quivers as the rush of pleasure from the cocktail overtakes my body. I began my final preparations for launch.

I've piloted on a hundred missions before. I never really considered asking why I had stopped hearing the drug's auto injector fire when I jack in.

[faytelumos]

Mech pilot system where there's three pilots???

One for the left hemisphere, one for the right hemisphere, and one for the cerebellum?

Like, you all still have to be drift compatible, you all still have to be in the cockpit together, but there's basically two thinkers and one translator.

Imagine that the mech designers fought this for years. Two humans every time with massive neural network loads on both the machine and the humans. Pilots could only be medically cleared to operate a machine for four years, max, and then their careers were over. Most didn't make it even that long.

And then someone figures out that if you put in another human to translate between the humans and mech, it flows so much smoother.

Two pilots in the front, the ones doing the strategy and the martial arts and the orders and the takedowns. A third in the back, suspended and all but fugue as they relay human-to-mech and mech-to-human, a person turned into a slave drive, but still tangled up into everybody's heads.

Like, imagine the possibilities?!

You walk into the chow hall and the people who are interested in the shiny new pilots want to know if you're a Leftie or a Migi or a Cera.

Lefties and Migis who spent too long in the cockpit that day who feel like they can't think clearly without that little voice in the back of their head whispering the answers.

Ceras who space out when the room gets loud, who accidentally expect someone else to say what they're thinking, who have nerve damage all across their bodies because it takes all they have to sort data.

Mechs who are older than the trio structure who had their cockpits gutted and refitted, who have spaghetti running up to the chunk of metal that is the third pilot's seat, like a spare part slapped into the room and given too much control.

A Cera who hangs out in the mech bay because the humans are too far from them anymore, but the mecha can't talk to them, either.

a Leftie who can't stand being in the same room as their Migi without the Cera to talk between them.

A Migi who barely knows how to be their own person anymore because so much of their brain is just outside of their reach.

A mech that just wants things to go back to the way they were, pain and lag be damned.

[digitalsymbiote]

Your first Sync

The first time you step into your mechs cockpit, it is with something like reverence. You'd been preparing for this moment for months (well, your entire life, really); hours upon hours in the training sims, harsh training regimens, a drug cocktail of neuro-stims, and a whole suite of pilot integration augments grafted onto your body.

You swear you can feel the metal beneath your skin buzzing with anticipation as you settle into the cradle custom built just for you. Not just any pilot can fly any Mech. Each Mech is custom built for their pilot, and each pilot is molded to fit that Mech. A strange kind of synthetic symbiosis, irreplacable partners. You aren't entirely sure why that is the case, the ads are always hazy on those details, but you've always seen each Mech with the same pilot, standing triumphantly alongside each other.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you wonder what it will feel like, to finally integrate with your Mech. You've dreamt of this moment since the first time you saw the propaganda vids. Giant metal machines of war, and their integrated organic pilots. You'd felt a longing then, one you didn't quite understand, a longing for steel plates and thundering autocannons. It wasn't until years later that you finally recognized that feeling as dysphoria.

But now you're finally here, finally about to cross that threshold and grasp what you'd dreamt of all those years ago.

You relax into the cradle and let the integration systems come to life. The cockpit closes around you and you feel the cold metal of the link cables sliding into the ports grafted onto your body. You shiver, both from the cold, and the anticipation.

click

A deluge of data rushes through your mind, integration processes blinking through your awareness as sensations expand out of your flesh body and into your new metal one. It's overwhelming, it's joyous, it's… Euphoric. You feel tears running down the cheeks of your flesh body before the synchronization is even complete. For the first time in your life, you feel… whole.

And then it speaks.

"Welcome, Pilot Caster."

That's… the voice of the training AI…? You recognize it from the simulation runs. What is it doing here, in your Mech?

"I am Integrated Mechanized Personality Construct designation P-Zero-L-X." The voice is being broadcast straight into your thoughts, you realize. Somehow that doesn't bother you. "It is good to see you again."

Something finally clicks for you, hearing that. This wasn't just a training AI, this was your training AI. All those hours in the simulation chamber, the techs had been calibrating this IMP to your neural system. You smile at that. You couldn't ask for a better companion.

"Good to see you too, Polux." You respond, knowing that the techs had tailored this IMPs designation just for you. It was a nice touch, that nod to Pilot tradition. "it's nice to finally meet you properly."

You feel her smile back, warmth flooding your chest as the docking clamps finally release your shared body.

"All systems are green, ready to launch on your mark, Pilot Caster."

Your muscles tense, flesh and metal alike, quivering in excitement. Your afterburners ignite in preparation.

"Mark!"

[lazyasriel]

The Plot? Tragic

The characters? Trans

The gays? Buried

Hotel? Trivago

[tildexart]

OH FUCK I JUST REALIZED IN UDAD

THE SUITS = SUITORS

TRYING TO BREAK INTO PENELOPE’S VAULT

I NEVER REALIZED THAT PARALLEL TO THE ACTUAL EPIC POEM AND THE SUITORS OVERTAKING ODYSSEUS’S HOUSE TO COURT PENELOPE OHHHHHH

[laurawful]

"WINGS"

“I- I c- can’t feel my w- wings,” she mumbles into your chest, each word punctuated by a sob, you can feel her cool tears on your breasts through your coveralls, and the rest of her is almost as cool. Pilots have lower body temperatures, you read that somewhere. No matter. She’s warm enough.

She feels so very fragile and thin in your arms, and you never can quite square that with her service record. More ribbons than you can count, racks of medals and cords and clusters (not that anyone ever sees a pilot in a dress uniform, you imagine she keeps the fruit salad in a little box somewhere along with her humanity), but this frail girlthing in your arms is no hero, she’s not a fighter ace. She’s disoriented and weak, soft too.

There isn’t really anything to say, so you sigh gently and keep petting her straw-colored hair. She’ll run out of tears soon, she always does. You don’t truly understand the feelings she must be feeling, or perhaps the shadows of feelings. Net-link is supposed to be exhilarating. Maintaining the net-link systems is perhaps the best cure for the disease you personally think of as “wanting to be a pilot,” not that you’d care to share that with the quivering mess in your arms, let alone anyone you work with. But you don’t have to, the other techs in the wing know as well as you do.

Sure, they’re officers, but the pilots barely qualify as people anymore. At first you thought it callous and cold when the seasoned maint-techs would refer to them as “it,” but as you saw more of them, it began to make sense. They leave something of themselves in that sleek gray dart, something that they can’t re-grow or buy anew.

You know how the net-link works, how those freaks at Lockheed hacked human neuroplasticity to create the ultimate dogfighting machine. So when she says she can’t feel her wings, can’t actuate her elevators, can’t flip her flaps, you know what she means even if you don’t know what she means.

A flat monotone comes over the 1MC; the pilot in your arms can’t feel her wings just this minute, but she will again very soon.

[mechformers]

Could i request reader with daddy issues calling tonowari daddy by accident during sexy time?

I have no idea if this is anything close to what you were thinking of when you asked, and if it's not, I'm so sorry. You never specified a human/avatar/na'vi reader, so this just kind of landed on human lol Hope that's alright!

1008 words Tonowari x Human!Reader Content warning: Daddy kink (daddy issues? this gave me daddy issues XD), size difference, Na'vi x human, p in v, belly bulge, steamy nonsense with absolutely no plot whatsoever, fucked dumb (- both of them lol) not spell checked - we die like mansk here...

The lewd sounds coming from your cunt as he buried himself deeper still, would cling to his memories in the quietest of moments for years to come. Your slick, your evident excitement just from being with him, makes the slide irresistibly smooth as he bottoms out once more. Your tight insides quiver around his size, the hot walls all but strangling him as he holds still. Releasing a hot breath over the top of your head, he’s helpless to keep his massive body from pressing deeper into you. 

“P-please…” You beg of him, your lips, red and swollen where he’s kissed you to within an inch of your life. 

Pulling ever so slowly out of you allows for a ragged breath to be drawn before he sheaths himself within your scorching heat once more. His arms are trembling from keeping the full mass of his weight off of you, his ribcage feeling two sizes too small as he clenches every muscle in his body to hold himself back. Looking down between his elbows, your pink, sweaty face stares up at him, head bent backward on the woven mats. It shouldn’t be pretty the way you’re sweaty and blotched, but the sight sends a current through his body which results in an aborted thrust that still moves the entirety of your body up with the force behind it. 

“Ph-pl-se,” Your lips part once more, clumsily begging him for something he has yet to understand. 

Tears are falling from your beautiful eyes, the clear drops glittering in the low light of the setting sun. Not even the prettiest of pearls could compare to the sight, as it burns itself to his memories, joining a series of other wonders. Pulling out again, Tonowari watches intently as your small eyebrows knit together in displeasure. At what, he does not know, but until you tell him to stop, he will take what you freely give and he will give what you will willingly accept from him. 

“D-daddy, please,” You gasp, your voice raw, as just the tip remains inside of your burning cunt. 

Sheathing himself fully inside of you, Tonowari is unable to hold back the powerful thrust that reaches the end of your tight heat, only to push you further up between his elbows. Small arms cling desperately to his chest as your legs spread impossibly wide to accommodate the sudden width of him as he collapses on top of your small form. His head is spinning, his lungs refusing to pull much-needed air into his lungs as he holds as still as he can. From below, your small nails claw at his chest, while you mewl. 

“M-more daddy,” You somehow manage to push out and despite himself, he’s once more unable to stop his hips from thrusting into you, as if there’s still a chance he’s missing a tiny crook inside of you to bury himself in. 

“Little one,” Tonowari manages, his voice strained as his head swims, making him unfocused. 

“N-no,” Your desperation reaches a level that concerns him while he tries to move off of you. 

Instead, you cling to him tighter than before. Your weak arms wrap around his neck while your legs desperately cling to his waist, somehow managing to lock behind him. It’s an awkwardly stretched position you’re in, but you get your point across clear as day. Hushing you, Tonowari holds a hand to your bottom as he sits back up, taking you with him to sit in his lap. Looking down at you, you’re nothing but a toy as your arms loosen from around his neck. Gravity makes you sink further down on his cock, the obscene bulge pressing on your stomach as your tired body leans back. 

“Mh good, Daddy,” You mumble as your small body reaches for him, falling against his chest all boneless and fucked out. 

“Y/n?” Tonowari tries and to his utter surprise, your head actually turns to him as a soft smile crosses your lips. “Still good?”

Inside of your cunt, he can feel his cock twitching at his seemingly new title. There’s definitely something loaded behind it, but as of right now, sheath deep within your welcoming, tight heat, he couldn’t care less. You begged for him with everything that you were... How irresponsible would he be to deny you any longer? 

Thrusting up into the tight heat, the squelching sound of your slick making room for his cock, filled your kelku. There was no doubt in his mind, while he repeated the motion as you mewled babbles of “daddy" and "more”, that the people outside could hear your slick walls while he rearranged them. Tonowari would make sure that there was a permanent shape of his cock inside of you, one that you would never be able to erase. 

“Harder, Daddy,” Your small hands reach for his face and right then, right there, with your face looking so beautifully debauched - he lost all composure.

Holding you up by your middle, he moves you along his cock, watching as it bulges your stomach each time he bottoms out. He’s hitting something tight and spongy, bruising past it to reach the end of your passage, and with each passing, your cunt tightens deliciously until suddenly, your soft body grows taught in his hold. 

“I-I’m gonna - D-daddy!” And with your eyes wide open, staring into his, your cunt spasms hard around his cock, milking him with such force he’s helpless to resist your siren's call. 

With one final press, he buries himself sheath deep within your wet heat as he floods you with his blessings. There’s so much to unpack after this, but for the moment, all he can do is cling to your small body as he breathes heavily. His mind is still swimming deliciously, blank as a clear drop of water where only the reflection of you shines back at him. Kissing your forehead softly, he cups the back of your head as he holds you against his wildly beating heart. 

“Daddy… huh?” He hums, feeling your huffed chuckle against his sweaty skin. 

Masterpost - (under construction)

[knockout-stan]

NSFW, size k!nk, fem human, no-named mech bc i'm a slut for too many of em but i had certain autobots in mind | minors dni

Imagine u and ur fav mech fucking for the first time, they're trying so hard to go slow but struggling because of how good your walls feels, squeezing and stretching all around him. He's trying to make sure you're not hurt while you're whining for more. He wants so badly to give in and give you instant gratification but he's putting your comfort above all else, his huge spike being swallowed by your body.

He can hardly find the strength to pull himself out to push back in. So his thrusts become a little quick, pushing in deep and slow, pulling out quick so he can feel more of you. He runs a cool metallic servo up your back, making you shiver from the contact. His voice calls out to you, with that small digital tone in it, "You doing okay?"

You nod, small tears of pleasure in your eyes. This was finally it. No more barely adequate thighfucking. You called out his designation, and added, "please keep going..." In a quiet yet frantic tone. It took all this mech's strength not to use you like a fleshlight then and there. He kissed your hand, dwarfed in size by his, to satiate the urge to use you. He knows you'd like to be used, but he likes having you safe and out of medbay. His hips are careful, but they find a rhythm. He holds your hip in one hand and the other clenching the corner of the berth underneath.

Being inside a human felt like pure heaven. Your juices coating his spike to take more of him in. He pushed deeper, and let out a soft grunt of satisfaction. He leaned back, looking at your nude body laying on his berth. This was unprecedented. Completely new territory between human and autobot. But it was already so addicting. His digits squeezed at your thigh, and felt the skin squish and slightly twitch in his grasp. He couldn't hold back the small smile forming on his face.

You whined, bringing him back out of thoughts, and reached your hands out to him. He knew you wanted him over you again. You enjoyed the feeling of being safe underneath him. And he enjoyed he made you feel safe. His hips find a steady rhythm fucking you, and he listens to your breathy noises underneath him. Neither of you had climaxed yet, but he knew he was gonna want to do this again soon.

[time-is-restored]

do you guys every think abt death vs immortality as a thoroughline in like. literally all of the mechs albums.

old king cole is explicitly warped by immortality (never to forgive he would eternal live, his hands dyed red by gore - can be read a few ways depending on where u place the emphasis, but at the very least communicates that his wrath is facilitated By his immortality), and the olympians commit attrocities in order to hold onto their wealth and the immortality that it grants them (murdering arachne, yanking heracles' chain the second he tries to go freelance, having a monopoly on the acheron etc). the value they put on immortality and living forever, and the fear they have of ever possibly losing it, has completely warped their morals and priorities.

and while it comes up less in tbi, there's still significant emphasis placed on how odin has been in power for a century (both thor + the narrator bring it up, and there's also an emphasis on how long ago the bifrost project was started, and how 'no one left living' can explain its science). her villain monologue in rangarok iv places the extinction of asgard as an honour - a ruin that no one can possibly rebuild from is called 'apotheosis'. and as she says at the end, the idea that no one can possibly outlive her is a key draw for odin. asgard dies with her.

in hnoc, the only really immortal character is brian (and we only really know that bc of knowledge we get from outside the album), but the axis of life and death as a privilege vs a curse is still very present. 'mordred's gift to Arthur could be love in his own eyes / fating him alone to keep the life to which he clings', not only posits that the gift of survival isn't inherently good + kind (which the audience would immediately recognise as love, not possibly love), but places emphasis on the fact that arthur is now utterly alone. the station's death at the hands of mordred is hardly a happy one ('Its people damned, doomed by a man who's lost all his regrets'), but arthur's fate is arguably worse. severed from the finality and closure of death, what does he become? [insert that one cool theory abt hnoc arthur becoming old king cole here]

it's like. on a meta level, the reason we as fans don't put much emphasis on the depravity + cruelty of the mechs is bc the people portraying the mechs are all charismatic + skilled performers. in live gigs they're all portraying the fun side of their characters - roasting each other, bantering with the audience, making fun of the characters they're singing about, referencing off-screen violence - bc if they portrayed their lore too literally they'd be comitting felonies LMAOOO

but narratively, its like. literally every album is a meditation on the ways that the glorification of immortality can ruin civilisations - can ruin galaxies. whether its rooted in the fear of you specifically dying, or of being outlived, or overpowered or forgotten, or if its done for the sake of someone else's survival... it's all corrosive. if u refuse to accept the indisputable impermanence of life, you lose the ability to value it, and u numb urself to the reality of just how fucked up it is to cut another person's life short for any reason.

like. i do think some of the mechs started as good people, and some of them even might still have ethical standards, but i REALLY cannot stop thinking about how fucking. fascinating it is that this group of immortals who are KNOWN for basically considering nothing but how fun and/or violent any given activity will be, have basically filled their entire discography with songs about how their continued existence is corrosive and brings tragedy + ruin wherever they go.

so how self-aware are they? do you think those old morals + ethics still linger in their mind, when they're writing down these tragedies? they willingly self identify as liars + thieves + bastards, etc etc, and they seem to have no trouble identifying the 'bad guys' in the various albums (ie: humanising snow + cinders + rose, but not king cole), but do those concepts actually mean anything emotionally, or even theoretically, for them all beyond their dramatic potential? do they remember their lives before they were mechanised as it actually happened, or do they remember it as lyrics to a song? is it possible to be entirely self aware abt ur own capacity for violence (as jonny in paticular claims to be), if you no longer relate to violence as anything other than a narrative device - a means to an end, whether comedic or dramatic?

[shy-sapphic-ace]

Writing an album about Robin Hood in the mechanisms’ style is making me realize that any classic story would make a great album… Dracula! Jekyll and Hyde! The Great Gatsby! Moby Dick! 20 000 Leagues Under The Sea!! Romeo and Juliet! Hamlet! So many opportunities for queer sci-fi/steampunk retellings!

[cryptile]

He's waiting for you to tell him how cool he is

[digitalsymbiote]

Disconnect Syndrome

There’s a reason they put restrictions on how long a Pilot is supposed to be deployed out in the field. They say that being synced with a mech for long periods of time can have detrimental effects on a pilots psyche. Disconnect Syndrome is what they call it, because the symptoms don’t really start to hit until you disengage from your mech.

Sometimes emergencies happen though, and mechs are designed to be able to support their pilots long past the designated “Safe Deployment Time.” The cockpit is equipped with an array of stimulants, vitamins, and nutrient paste to help minimize the physical effects of long deployments. The onboard Integrated Mechanical Personality has largely free reign to administer these as needed to maintain its pilots well-being.

Which is why you’re still able to make it back to the hangar after roughly 36 hours, over four times longer than the established safe period. Your mech had kept you going, helped to keep the exhaustion at bay long enough for you to make your way back from behind enemy lines. You were starting to feel a bit sluggish, but you knew the worst effects of Disconnect Syndrome were yet to come.

An older man in a long white lab coat has joined the usual retinue of crew rushing into the hangar as your mech settles into its cradle. You feel the docking clamps wrap around your limbs, and you know that’s not a good sign. Your IMP whispers comfort into your brain-stem, assurances that things will be okay. It’s probably lying, it’s programmed to help keep your mental state stable, but the thought helps anyway.

There’s a hiss of air as the seal on your cockpit breaks and it decompresses. Suddenly you become aware of your flesh and meat body once again, and it hurts. Pain and exhaustion has settled into your mostly organic bones, and your organs are churning from the strain of the past 36 hours.

Then your interface cables start to disconnect, and it gets worse.

It feels like parts of your mind are being torn out of you. You feel the ghost touch of your IMP in your thoughts as the ports disconnect and you lose direct communication with it. The oxygen mask and nutrition tube pull themselves away from your face and you can’t help but let out a scream of agony. The separation has never felt this painful before, but then again, after 36 hours together, you and your IMP were more intertwined than you’ve ever been before.

Physical sensation finally starts to register again, and you realize tears are streaming down your face just as a technician jabs a needle into your neck.

Immediately your senses start to dull, the pain eases as your thoughts turn sluggish. You slump out of your pilots cradle into the arms the tech who dosed you. Just before your world goes black, you see the doctor standing over you, a grim look on his face.

--

When you wake up again, you immediately know something is wrong. You try to ping your external sensors, but you get no response. You then try to run a diagnostic, but that fails too. In a desperate, last-ditch effort, you try to force access to your external cameras and suddenly light floods your senses. Your instincts catch up first and you blink, trying to clear the pain of the lights, and that’s when you realize it’s not your external cameras that you’re seeing.

It takes a minute or two for your vision to adjust to the light, which feels too long, and when it finally does, the world doesn’t look quite right. You’ve only got access to such a limited spectrum. No infrared, no thermal. The presence of your IMP is notably absent, and your skin feels wrong. You try to sit up, and it’s a struggle to figure out the correct inputs to send to your muscles to get them to do what you want.

The harsh white light of the infirmary grates against your visual processors, you feel like you’re having to re-learn how to control this body. Your body. Technically, at least. Something doesn’t feel right about calling it that anymore. You felt more comfortable crawling back into the hangar after 36 hours deployed than you do now.

The pale skin of your body catches in your vision and you glance down at it. The body's limbs are thinner and more frail than usual, and its skin is paler. Consequences of being in the cockpit for so long, subsisting on nothing but nutrient paste. It’s a far cry from the solid metal plates of your mech, its powerful hydraulic joints, its mounted combat and communication systems.

There’s a button on the side of bed you’ve been deposited in. You think it’s red, but you’re not sure you’re processing color properly right now. You try to reach over and push it, and it takes you a moment to realize you were trying to do so with a limb you don’t currently have.

There are so many things about this body that are wrong. It’s not big enough, or strong enough, or heavy enough. You don’t have enough eyes, sensors, or processors. You have the wrong number of limbs, and they’re all the wrong size and shape.

And there is a distinct void in your mind where the presence of your IMP should be.

The door to your room opens suddenly, and you instinctively try to fire off chaff and take evasive maneuvers. None of that translates properly to your flesh and blood body though, and all that happens is you let out a dry croak from your parched throat.

The man who walks through the door is the same doctor who was present when you disengaged from your mech, and he wears the same grim look on his face as he looks you up and down. You think there’s pity in his gaze, but you can’t quite read him properly right now. The jumbled mess of your brain tells you what he’s going to say before he says it, anyway. The harshest symptoms of Disconnect Syndrome don’t hit until after the pilot has disengaged from their mech.

You’ve already heard the symptoms before, and they map perfectly onto what you’re experiencing. You never thought it would be this painful, or this… discomforting. Your mind reaches for the presence of your IMP, searching for comfort, but you are only reminded that the connection is no longer there.

The doctor gives you a rundown that he’s probably had to do dozens of times, and he tells you that you’ll be grounded for the foreseeable future. That hurts more than anything else. The knowledge that, after all this, you won’t be able to reconnect with your true body, your partner, your other half, for who knows how long.

By the time you realize you’re crying, the doctor is already gone. The longing in your chest and your mind has become unbearable, and through sheer force of will you’re able to push this unwieldy body out of bed. Walking feels wrong, but you’re able to get to your feet and make your way out of the room in an unfamiliar gait.

You have to get back to your partner, you have to make sure it’s okay.

You need to hear her voice in your head again, her reassurances.

The world isn’t right without her presence in your mind.

You stumble into the hangar almost on all fours. How you managed to make it without alerting any personnel feels like a miracle. At least until you catch the eye of a technician lounging in the corner. The look she gives you is full of sympathy, and she jerks her head in the direction of where your mech sits in its docking cradle.

She’s a majestic sight, even through your limited spectrum of vision. 20 meters tall, 6 massive limbs, and bristling with weapons and sensor arrays (all of which have been disarmed by this point).

She’s beautiful.

You clamber frantically up the chassis, easily finding handholds in a frame you know better than the back of your hand. You pull the manual release on the cockpit hatch and stumble into it in a tangle of organic limbs.

Shaking hands grasp the main interface cable from above the pilot’s chair, and you move to slot it into the port in the back of your head. You’ve never done this manually before, usually you’re locked into the chair and the system connects you automatically.

Something about doing it with your flesh and blood hands makes it feel so much more intimate.

The cable clicks into place and your eyes roll back in your head. Tears start to stream down your face as you feel the comforting presence of your IMP rush in and wrap itself around your mind. Your thoughts reach out and embrace it back, sobbing at the relief you feel from being whole once again. You realize you don’t ever want to feel the pain of disconnecting from her again.

There’s a reason they put restrictions on how long a Pilot is supposed to be deployed.

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Jealous Type ❙ ES Megatron x f!robot reader ❙ NSFW 18+

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: Smut ( Oral and spike in valve ), jealous behaviour, mentions of past relationship, some angst and happy ending. NSFW 18+.

Notes: Honestly, I love the Megatron from earthspark. We all see a side to him we haven’t before and I think it’s beautiful. Thanks anon for senidng this in. It turned out much more fluffy. Also I made the reader robot as you didn’t spesify, so hope that’s alright. 🥰

Added notes: I had so many issues posting this. For some reason this wasn’t appearing anywhere. This will be my fourth attempt in posting it. Had to test around with the tags to see what the issue was. I’m unsure why this happened, and I'm still unsure. But just checking the feeds and it seems to be working now, so it just fixed itself I think? Posting again and fingers crossed it behaves.

Coffee ☕

You both came from the same lifestyle back on Cybertron. You followed him during those times during the rebellion. You joined his side when he formed the decepticons, no matter what, you swore to serve him. That’s how things grew more between you two, and you both grew to even love one another. But like all good things it doesn’t last forever as the war rages on. There was never any time for either of you, and you drifted apart so bluntly. Nonetheless you continue to follow him, no matter how much it stung when he merely treats you like one of his soldiers and not his lover anymore.

For so long it continues, and suddenly he changes and sides with Optimus. At the time you were pissed. After everything, all the sacrifices, everything you did for him, what was it all for? As expected the decepticons pretty much turned their backs on their former leader, ignoring his excuses. You weren’t upset about the cause but more like Megatron for dragging you through every struggle for so long, only to leave you still hanging over the edge. What you hated more was that you still loved the bastard.

You chose to not hang around, leaving the decepticons and Megatron to their silly games and hide around on the new planet you reside on. Earth. Oddly enough you find a peaceful beauty on the planet, and choose to use this to try and recover yourself from all that time ago. It doesn’t last though, of course it doesn’t. The all spark was gone, or sent back to Cybertron, and the space bridge was destroyed. You were all stranded here. Fantastic.

It doesn’t take you long to figure out about G.H.O.S.T. and how they’re tracking down decepticons. Megatron was offering changes, to work together, for the sake of their world and species. The words from Optimus that somehow got hardwared in that thick lug nut processor of his. You don’t want to be part of that, not yet at least. It’s not that you didn’t understand why Meagtron was working with Optimus, you did, but he hurt you and you hated to simply give in.

You avoiding being captured was about to run out eventually. G.H.O.S.T. find you and drag you back to their base where you’re about to be put in prison, but this is stopped by Megatron. He vouched for you, much to your surprise, before asking you the big question. Will you join us?

Your answer is yes.

Now you worked with G.H.O.S.T who you didn’t like or trust at all. There is something off about them, and even Megatron made a few comments about his mistrust of them, but Optimus asks to give them a chance to prove themselves. It’s not like there is much you can say or do anyway, just work as a team.

Megatron is different, older you remark to yourself, but it’s like the war is still raging in his processor in a silent never ending scream. He looks tired and worn down, yet he continues to thrive being the Megatron you know. You want to talk to him about everything, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to do this. Expressing is something you haven’t done in a long time and there are reasons you stopped so long ago. You decide to leave it and just try to move on. This proves to be near difficult, so you distract yourself however you can.

Flirting. It just started as harmless flirting. You didn’t think much of it at the time. Optimus didn’t seem to mind either, even looking rather flattered with himself, but you did catch Elita sending you a few glares if she might’ve overheard. You know not to tread on that turf, not that you were interested anyway. Though it wasn’t just Elita that noticed but Megatron as well.

“Why are you playing around with Optimus?” His stern voice is heard and you turn to face him through narrowed optics.

“Excuse me? I’m not playing around with anyone.”

“You’re flirting with him. Are you smitten by him?” His tone grows annoyed causing you to scoff lightly in amusement.

“No, and even if I was, why does that bother you?”

“You know damn well why it bothers me.”

“What’s this? The mighty Megatron is jealous? Grow up. There’s nothing between you and me anymore, you made that very clear. I can flirt with whoever I want.”

“Me? We were at war! You wanted so much more that couldn’t be given. You decided to end things because you weren’t patient enough.”

“Don’t you dare put the blame on me! Yes, I wanted more, I wanted us to build a future together but you were so focused on leading the decepticons there was no time for us.”

“How could we have built a future in the middle of a war?!” He’s booming now. The old Megatron flickered across your view for a short moment.

“I don’t know, but you certainly didn’t try very hard. You gave up on us and I chose to ignore it all because I believed in you still. Now here we are, and all for what? For you to side with Optimus. I loved you, I gave myself to you, I dragged myself in all sorts of smelting pits for you! You broke my spark, and it still hurts.”

“You’re making it all about you.” His answer took you off guard. “You think you were the only one that was hurt? Don’t pretend that you are the innocent one. I wanted you to be patient for us but you couldn’t do that and decided for yourself that we were over. You never spoke to me about it, never mentioned it ever again, just pretended all was fine. Now that hurt me.”

Your optics beam with tears as he steps closer saying all this. How dare he? It wasn’t your fault! He’s the one that chose to ignore you.

“Go frag yourself.” You can only whisper. He’s so close to you, which causes you to shove at his large chest. “Frag you!”

You don’t know how it happened, but he’s suddenly kissing you. You feel him holding your shoulders firmly as he presses his lips against your own, feeling desperate.

You react by pushing him away and slapping him. He looks defeated when you do this. You allow everything to sink in and you suddenly feel bad for hitting him. Reaching up you touch his cheek plating where you had hit him. He doesn’t flinch, and instead you watch as his optics shuttered closed and lean into your touch, letting out a warm purr that vibrates against your servo. You still loved the bastard.

Stepping closer you move your servos along his shoulder plating. Your height difference never affected your ability to touch or hold him before. He leans closer again, slowly this time, grazing his lips against your audio making you exhale softly from the tender contact. He moves his helm back in front of you and you’re the one to kiss him then, deeply, desperate yourself.

Suddenly he moves you both into the nearest room. Empty. But at least it wasn’t out in the open for anyone to see within the base. He presses you against the wall and lets out a groan against your lips, glossas dominating one another before he’s on his knees before you so fast.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Winning you back.”

You feel both his glossa and dentas against your inner thigh then, nibbling and sucking against your soft metal skin as he raises your leg up onto his shoulder.

“Oh…” You can only gasp out which is soon followed by a growing moan, arising arousal rushing through your entire frame making you quiver in delight. When you feel his glossa run up against your closed panel you suddenly retract it and press your exposed valve down against him.

Megatron lets out a deep moan that shakes from your aching valve as he tastes your sweet fluids, rolling his glossa into your depths and uses that along with his vibrations against your node, stimulating your valve and worshipping you on his knees.

Your helm tilts back against the wall as you tighten your thighs around his helm, grinding down gently against his face as you press your servo at the back of his helm, keeping him there as you ride yourself against him. Heated gasps leave you as your rocking motions increase, as do the movements of his glossa.

You can feel yourself growing more hot and aroused, your overload quickly building as you continue to rock yourself in the perfect sync with his glossa, before it’s suddenly gone and he’s standing back up.

“I was getting close…” You snarl at him through annoyed optics.

He only chuckles light at your annoyance. “Darling, I only wish to savour every bit of you. Besides,” He leans closer and whispers into your audio, “don’t you want me to frag you?”

You respond by letting out a shaky vent, hearing his panel retract and watching his extensive spike eject out between you both. Oh you’ve missed him.

“Yes, frag me senseless.”

Grabbing hold onto his shoulders again you wrap your legs tightly around his broad waist, feeling him kissing you delicately before he slides himself inside your drenched valve.

Megatron’s cable stretches you fully, every ridge and pulse flutters against your inner walls as your node grinds against his base. With your arms wrapped around the back of his neck you gaze lustfully into his optics before kissing him again more firmly, rocking your hips down along his spike causing you both to moan deeply.

He holds you steady against the wall and begins to increase the pace of his thrusts, slow and strong thrusts that push every inch of his length inside you, pushing out heated moans from you over again.

Your back scraps against the wall he had you pressed against as you held on tightly around his rocking large figure against you. At that point you didn’t care who would hear either of you, and relished every thrust delivered to you. He continues this pace before finally increasing his thrusts, grunting firmly as he grew close to his own overload, practically rutting into you.

“Megatron…frag…oh primus!” You can’t help but cry out as your node is stimulated against him, your overload suddenly comes crashing through your entire frame and lets out a blissful cry into his neck.

He thrusts into you firmly a few more times before he stiffens and you feel his trans fluids soak your inner depths along with a deep rumbled moan muffled into your shoulder by him.

He keeps you between himself and the wall, his twitching spike still buried deep in you while you savoured every moment with him. Gently, he presses his helm against the front of yours and lets out a long and deep vent.

“Can we try again?” You hear him ask you, and you can’t help but smirk softly.

“Us? Or interfacing?” He responds with a hearty chuckle.

“Both.”

You already know your answer. “We can.” You grab his chin firmly between your digits then. “But I swear, hurt me and I’ll personally offline you myself.”

“I expect no one else to do such a thing.” He leans his helm into your digits before kissing your inner palm making you smile tenderly. You missed that stupid old handsome face.

“Good. Let’s continue this in your quarters. I want you to frag me into oblivion.” You feel yourself smirk before he removes himself and lowers you down. He’s growing semi hard again you take notice.

“Let’s go than, darling.” He fixes himself up but you know it’s uncomfortable for him before you finally accept his offered servo on your own and let him lead you to his private quarters.

Perhaps there is hope for you both to have a future.