(The masterlist for literally everything else I have written & write for. I'm focused on Avatar now but I'll still take requests for the other stuff.) Masterlist for Scream! Requests open!!!
A/N: Now...are we ready to truly feel the weight of your decision?
Rules: You have five tries to try and unlock the true ending. After five failed attempts, that's a permanent game over. Each door will lead you to several options. Choose wisely. And most importantly, have fun!
Summary: Five doors stand before you. Each door will either lead you to your salvation...or your doom.
CW: emotional smut, p in v
<- PREV || FROM THE BEGINNING
The door loomed before you, its charred surface exuding the acrid scent of ash and smoldered fire. A crushing melancholy sat on your chest like a stone slab, and underneath it churned a guilt so vast it swallowed thought and breath alike. You trembled as you stood there, not from cold, but from an unreachable memory. Your body remembered what your mind refused to recall. Another door. Another time. A pain that had cracked you open and hollowed you out.
Your stomach twisted, nausea rising like bile from some ancient wound inside you. But still, you swallowed it. You pressed the fear down like a lid on boiling water, even as your hand, hesitant and shivering, reached out.
As soon as your fingers touched the tarnished brass handle, the door trembled, vibrating with a peculiar hum that resonated throughout your body. Then the light, bright and devouring, rushed forward, filling your vision and engulfing everything else. You gasped, eyes squeezed shut against the blinding brightness as your very soul felt pulled thin, stretched taut like silk on a loom.
And then—
A scent. Lavender. Soft and comforting. It drifted through your senses like a lullaby. Your eyes fluttered open. The sunlight poured through a tall window, warm and golden, kissing your skin. You stood quietly beside it, no longer trembling, no longer lost. Your body moved with tranquil grace, as if it belonged here.
You wore a hanbok of the purest white, delicate as snow under moonlight. Golden dragons were stitched along the sleeves, dancing with each movement you made. Your hair flowed freely down your back, damp from a recent bath, the scent of soap and lavender mingling in the air. Peace clung to your limbs like silk.
“Priestess.”
The voice was a whisper of warmth, low and reverent. It slipped through the air like honey.
You turned, and your breath caught.
Joy bloomed. Unrestrained, radiant, and blinding in its purity. A smile stretched across your lips before you realized it. He was there, kneeling before you, clad in a black hanbok that contrasted the pale white and gold in your own. His ebony hair fell slightly over his brow, swept to the side in that same boyish way you remembered.
“Jinu!” His name escaped your lips with a breathless laugh, your arms reaching for him as naturally as your heartbeat. Like you'd done it a thousand times before. Like your soul knew.
He rose slowly, reverently, as if the moment itself was holy. Then his arms were around you, grounding, solid, and warm. You buried your face against his chest and breathed in his scent, of a mountain with fresh river flowing, warmth, and something that was only his. You melted. Completely.
His lips pressed to the crown of your head, a silent prayer. “You’re far too generous with your affection, Priestess,” he murmured, amusement laced in gentle warning.
You tilted your face up to meet his gaze, a small pout tugging at your lips. “Not with everyone,” you whispered. “You’re…” Your voice softened, eyes locking with his. “You’re special to me.”
Something flickered across his face. A shadow of an unnamed emotion followed by something softer. Pain. Longing. His golden-flecked eyes seemed to shimmer, catching the sunlight like cracked glass. Then his hands cupped your face, gentle and steady, like you were something sacred. Something he had once broken and would never dare to again.
His lips brushed yours, and the world stilled.
“I don’t deserve this,” he breathed, voice rough with emotion. “I don’t deserve you.”
His thumb traced your cheek, tender and reverent, before you could say anything. “But if you offer it freely,” he whispered, “I will never turn it away.”
His kiss deepened, and with it, the aching restraint unravelled. His hands slid down, slow and deliberate, peeling back the layers of silk that separated you. Heat flared between you as he pressed his hips against yours, his need unmistakable. The air turned heavy with desire, the sacred and the sinful dancing between heartbeats, and for that moment… nothing else existed but the two of you.
You undid the knot of his hanbok, each layer slipping off like petals in the wind. The silk whispered down his arms and legs, pooling at his feet in delicate waves.
A shiver coursed over your bare skin, not from the air, but from the weight of his gaze and the growing warmth radiating from his body, now so close, so impossibly near.
Jinu moved closer, his presence wrapping around you like heat from a sacred fire. Your fingers reached up to brush aside the strands of his inky black hair, sweeping them from his brow. You looked into his deep brown eyes that had gold glints in them.
Your touch trailed lower, across the ridge of his collarbone, then further, over the strength of his chest.
“I always thought…” you murmured, fingers pausing over his heart, “…that I couldn’t trust demons.”
He said nothing at first, only leaned in, lips brushing your shoulder with aching tenderness. His sigh was long, contented, as though your skin offered him a kind of sanctuary he'd never known. His bare body moulded to yours, warmth enveloping every inch of you.
“You can always trust me,” he whispered, and there was no plea in his voice, only truth. With hands that trembled just slightly, he guided you toward the futon, helping you lie down, reverent in every movement.
He hovered above you, arms bracketing your head, his face so close you could feel his breath on your lips.
You smiled, a soft, sad thing, as your legs rose to cradle his hips. “When I lost…” The names lingered on the edge of your lips, yet your mind refused to remember them. Too painful. Too distant. “I swore, to them… that I would rid this world of evil.”
Your arms wrapped around him like vines seeking something solid, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. You could hear his heartbeat slowly and steadily there, anchoring and quieting.
“You will,” he said, and his voice trembled just as his body did. The tip of his cock nudged against your folds, teasing your entrance with a reverence that made you gasp. Then, with exhale and intent, he pressed forward.
Your breath caught. A soft, broken sound slipped past your lips as your body yielded, opened to him. He filled you slowly, inch by inch, until he was seated deep inside, his breath stuttering in your ear.
“Only those who can live beside humans…” he murmured, voice husky and raw, “…will be spared by you.”
Then, as his hips started to move, he gave you a tender, desperate kiss as his words turned into a gentle moan. His cock dragged along your inner walls, scraping against the most sensitive places, and each thrust stoked a fire deep in your core.
“Jinu…” you gasped, your moan catching in the back of your throat as the pressure built with every slow, deliberate roll of his hips.
His hands roamed your body with unspoken worship. He cupped your breasts, kneading them gently, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they pebbled under his touch. His pelvis ground against your clit with every thrust, sending sharp pulses of pleasure ricocheting through your spine.
“Let me give you what you desire,” he groaned, his voice a rasp of need. He caught your wrists in one large hand and gently pinned them above your head. His other hand braced at your waist, holding you still as he buried himself deeper, grunting with the effort of restraint.
“You can trust me,” he moaned again, the words repeated like a prayer, a vow. Your body bowed beneath him, legs spreading wider, needing more, needing all of him. The slick sound of skin against skin filled the quiet chamber, broken only by your whimpers and his ragged breath.
You clung to him, not just physically, but soul to soul as your body ached with every thrust while your heart whispered things your lips could not speak.
That you trusted him.
That he was your peace.
That in a world where demons waged war against everything you were meant to protect, he had become your exception.
Your salvation.
His mouth found your breast with a desperate hunger, lips sealing around your swollen nipple. He sucked deeply, each pull a decadent stroke of fire that travelled straight to your core. A symphony of wet, obscene sounds filled the air. Each slurp, each breath, each low groan composing a melody of lust and longing that rang in your ears like sacred blasphemy.
“I… I d-do…” you sobbed, your voice trembling with more than just pleasure. It was surrender. Your heart, your body, they were unravelling beneath his touch, melting into him like wax drawn too close to flame.
You knew what you were doing was forbidden. A priestess, beloved by the gods, entwined in the arms of a demon. It was a sacrilege. A betrayal of all the divine vows you once lived by.
And yet… how could it be wrong?
When the Honmoon had torn open the veil between worlds and unleashed chaos, when demons ravaged the earth, rending spirit and flesh alike, it was Jinu who stood by your side. When villages burned, when temples fell, and even your most loyal worshippers were slaughtered, it was he who turned against his own kind to fight for yours.
For you.
Now, his hips slammed into yours with ruthless rhythm, grunting as he fucked you hard and deep. His mouth moved to your other breast, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before his teeth grazed it, and he sucked. His grip on your wrists tightened, anchoring you beneath him as your body writhed in response.
When you had been at your lowest… when the world felt like a graveyard… he had been your only light.
He had always been there.
So…
So, you gave in.
Your hips tilted up, desperate to feel more, to take more. Each thrust dragged his cock against the sensitive walls of your cunt, and every downward stroke brushed your clit sent sparks of pleasure and set fire to your nerves. Your body quivered, stomach tightening, walls fluttering.
“J-Jinu—” you choked out, voice high, helpless. Your arms strained in his hold, not in protest, but in sheer desperation, your body demanding more even as you felt yourself breaking apart.
Your breath hitched, your back arched, and your heels dug into the bed. The pressure mounted, pleasure coiling in your gut like a tightened bowstring, drawn to its limit.
Suddenly.
A growl.
Low.
Demonic.
His lips left your breast with a wet pop, and when your dazed eyes found his, a chill of awe coursed through you.
His pupils had narrowed, slitted like a blade’s edge. That soft brown now glowed with an unnatural brilliance of deep gold. The miasma of his demonic power crept along his skin, like dark roots spreading beneath the surface, pulsing with restrained fury.
“Give in to me,” he whispered, voice low and rough, more demon than man, as his lips brushed your ear. “Give me your heart… and I’ll give you mine.”
And then he thrust. One powerful push—deep, holding himself inside you to the hilt as he rocked his hips in slow circles, his pelvis grinding deliciously against your clit.
Pinned beneath him, unable to move, your wrists trapped, all you could do was breathe his name like a prayer and press the side of your face to his. Your lips hovered beside his ear, your voice thick with tears and trembling emotion.
“S-silly man,” you whispered brokenly, “you already have it…”
His entire body went still.
No breath. No movement. It was as if time itself had frozen within him.
“…Jinu?” you whispered again, gently.
The sound of his name cracked something open. He inhaled sharply, then slowly released your wrists. One hand threaded into your hair, the other cradled your jaw as he looked at you.
Slowly, he kissed you as if they were his vows; his promise to stay by your side.
His tongue moved against yours in slow, sensual waves, coaxing, savouring. He kissed you like you were the only sacred thing in this ruined world. And as your lips melted into his, he began to move again, deep and slow, the way he knew you liked. Each thrust was deliberate, reverent. Like prayer.
Like love.
His mouth devoured every moan you gave him, swallowing each cry. You clung to him, fingers digging into the firm muscle of his back, as your release crested. And when it came, it came like a storm.
You shattered beneath him, body arching, back bowing, your soul unravelling in his hands as you came. The pleasure was blinding, white-hot, like a thousand threads of light exploding behind your eyes. Your breath broke in a sob, mouth still locked to his, as your body trembled from the aftershocks.
A guttural sound tore from his throat as his lips finally broke from yours, his forehead pressing to yours, breath shallow, trembling. His hips stuttered as he buried himself deep inside you, spilling into your warmth with a low, aching gasp. His entire body quivered, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin like morning dew, catching the filtered sunlight that bled through the rice paper walls in pale golden ribbons.
He stayed there, unmoving for a moment, cock still deep, still twitching inside you, as though afraid that letting go might break whatever fragile miracle had bloomed between you.
Then, slowly, his eyes opened. The amber of them dulled into tenderness, a quiet reverence softening his features. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, barely a graze, as if afraid to startle you with too much affection.
“I apologize,” Jinu whispered, another kiss following close behind, this one lingering against your cheek. “To sully your body again so soon after you’ve bathed…”
You let out a quiet chuckle, breathless and amused, your eyes still half-lidded with contentment. “That’s never stopped you before,” you teased, the words slipping between swollen lips like silk.
A rare smile curved his mouth, faint and fond. “May I join you this time?”
Your hand reached up, fingers brushing the hair from his damp forehead. “Always,” you murmured, before sealing your answer with a slow, sensual kiss. One that made your breath catch and your heart flutter all over again.
But eventually, the afterglow began to fade. You felt his seed begin to slide down your thigh, warm and thick, and the intimacy of it made your cheeks flush. As you tried to rise, your legs trembled, but Jinu was already there. Strong hands caught you gently, steadying you with practiced ease.
You barely had time to breathe before he was reaching for your hanbok lying in a soft pile on the floor. He wrapped the lower skirt carefully around your waist, his movements meticulous, almost ceremonial. Then, with the same gentle hands, he draped the upper layer over your shoulders, careful not to tug too harshly against your skin.
You watched him with a swelling heart, warmth blooming inside you at the sight. He always dressed you first. Always looked at you like you were something divine.
You laughed softly, biting back a grin, just as he leaned in to kiss you again.
But then—
A sharp, white-hot pain sliced through your abdomen.
“Ah—!” You gasped, eyes flying wide. Breath caught in your throat as your vision blurred with sudden panic.
Your gaze dropped.
Red. So much red.
It bloomed like camellia flowers, spreading across the pristine white of your skirt, vibrant and merciless.
And then you saw it.
Jinu’s hand.
No longer human.
Gnarled. Twisted. Long, clawed fingers—blackened and inhuman, dripping crimson to the ground, heavy and slow.
“Ji—” Your voice broke, your lips trembling as your heart thudded against your ribs.
But before the name could fully leave your mouth…
Darkness.
Your body jolted as you woke with a gasp, cold sweat chilling your skin. You were no longer in the sunlit room. No longer wrapped in his warmth. The air was thick, damp, and smelled faintly of rot.
You sat in a room of wood and stone. Torches lined the walls, flickering fire casting long shadows. In the centre stood a marble statue, once a depiction of the last priestess.
But it was filthy. Cracked.
Covered in moss.
Her face was broken away entirely, as if time and something darker had deliberately tried to erase her.
Your heartbeat thundered in your ears. The dream still clung to your skin like mist, sticky and cold. You brought your trembling hands to your stomach, as if to check if the wound was truly gone.
No blood.
No warmth.
Just you and the remnants of a memory that felt too vivid to be a dream.
You lay on a bed too soft, too still.
Black silk sheets clung to your skin like a second, suffocating layer. Four towering pillars loomed at each corner of the bed, draped in translucent black veils that swayed slightly, as if breathing. It reminded you of a funeral.
There was warmth beside you.
You gasped, sharp and trembling, as your eyes snapped open.
Jinu.
He lay there, inches from you, his bare chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. You were both exposed completely, and your arms flew to your chest, trying to shield yourself, as if modesty could protect you from the overwhelming storm of memories…and suffering.
“My love,” he whispered, his voice a low rasp, familiar and foreign all at once. Your hair was brushed back from your damp forehead by a clawed hand that was both inhuman and unbearably gentle.
It made your skin crawl.
“I’ve been waiting for you…” he murmured, slowly rising to sit beside you. He clasped your face with his large, powerful hands. It should have felt like an embrace. It should have felt safe.
Instead, it felt like a cage.
“Waiting so long… just to see you again.” When he looked into your eyes, they were soft, pleading, and broken.
Then he kissed you.
His lips were cold. So cold.
Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes.
You didn’t kiss him back, but you didn’t pull away either. You trembled beneath him, your body torn between the comfort of his touch and the agony his presence evoked. His lips lingered too long, tasting your silence, your tears, your breath.
Then your tears came out slowly and steadily, like a dam breaking.
When he finally drew away, your lips parted, not with resistance. Not with forgiveness.
But with truth:
I should've never trusted you.
Why did you betray me?
I missed you...please don't stop.
Voting ended onAug 9, 2025
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a/n. this was originally for kinkmas in 2023 but i never finished my wips oops 😭😭 i’m so excited for quaritch in afaa tho, got me blushing when i watched the trailer
0.6k words
kinkmas masterlist | avatar masterlist
“Not so feisty after all, is she?” Colonel Miles Quaritch taunted, his face only inches from hers.
His weapon pressed against her throat, ensuring her compliance. She hissed, baring her teeth in a display of aggression that only seemed to amuse him as a dark chuckle left his mouth. As she struggled beneath him, he shifted his position to better restrain her, inadvertently grasping her tail to keep her still.
But when he pulled it by the base, she couldn’t keep a quiet, sweet moan from tumbling past her lips. It had happened accidentally. A simple, stupid accident, nothing more. Unfortunate for her, he heard it. His small ears perked up as the sound barely reached them. Barely, but they did. With horror she watched a shit-eating grin form on his face.
“Well, well,” he drawled, genuine surprise mixing with sadistic pleasure in his expression. “That’s an interesting reaction.”
Her face flushed a deep purple with embarrassment and rage. “Release me,” she demanded, trying to maintain her dignity despite the compromising position.
“I don’t think so,” he replied, his grip on her tail tightening slightly. “I think I just found me a damn good tactical advantage.”
Experimentally he ran one finger along the length of her tail, watching her reaction carefully. She bit her lower lip, desperately trying to suppress another sound, but her body betrayed her as a shiver ran through her slender frame.
“Those ain’t just for balance, are they?”
“You know nothing,” she spat, but the tremor in her voice undermined her defiance.
The colonel leaned closer. “I know enough. Ain’t gotta pretend you don’t like it.”
With his free hand, he maintained pressure on his weapon against her throat, while his other hand continued to explore the texture of her tail. Despite her best efforts to remain stoic, small involuntary reactions betrayed her. A quickened breath, the subtle arch of her back.
“Stop,” she whispered, her voice a mixture of command and plea.
“Tell us where Jake Sully is. Or I’ll try a different approach you won’t like so much.” He let the threat hang in the air, his fingers tightening around her tail.
“I will tell you nothing, sky man.”
Miles sighed, as if disappointed by her predictable response, but the evil smile betrayed him. “Fine by me.”
His hard cock drove in and out of her sloppy cunt, squelching with every thrust he bullied into her. He watched greedily as his length got swallowed by her tight walls over and over again, driving it into her relentlessly and burying himself to the hilt every time.
In tandem with his movements, sweet moans and breathless gasps filled the room, accompanied by his occasional grunts.
The recom had her on her knees while pressing her face down to the cold, hard surface beneath them. Clawing his fingers into her hips, her ass was perfectly presented to him, and he would be a fool to pass on this opportunity.
“So good for me,” he drawled through gritted teeth.
The tip of her tail twitched and shivered while her tail lashed around, tickling his toned stomach. His hand found the base of her tail once more, fingers curling around it and without adding much pressure, he felt her walls contracting around him, clamping down on his dick.
He cursed under his breath. “Prefer ya when that pretty mouth ain’t runnin’, sweetheart.”
Curling her tail around his hand, he yanked it, hard, and a strangled gasp escaped her throat — He was nowhere near finished with her.
likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! support content creators <3
Fun idea: people assume since spider is the oldest sully child, that he's also Jake and Neytiri's birth child too. Since Na'vi have heard that Jake use to be a sky person, people assume Spider is the equivalent of when a skyperson and a Na'vi person have a baby. Spider takes more of his father's Skyperson side. The sully kids love this idea and completely go with it.
This idea is so funny. And you know as any of the Sully kids hear this, they are gaslighting the shit out of every single person possible. If Spider doesn't get taken so he comes with them to Awa'atlu? It's ridiculous how long they have Ao'nung and Rotxo and all the other Metkayina kids convinced that Spider is Jake and Neytiri's biological child. DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON TONOWARI.
Like a month after they get there he casually says to Ronal "It's crazy how different the Sully kids look."
And Ronal is like "Well, of course- wait a fucking minute, do you think they're all related??"
Tonowari: THEY AREN'T?
BUT ALSO CONSIDER: what if Spider actually was jeytiri's first bio kid and did happen to just turn out mostly human? There has been variety in human and Na'vi features, idk. It stands to reason that if Tuk is fully Na'vi with no discernible human features, it would be (less likely) but possible it could go the other way. Idk you could even have one of those wholesome Jake is human when he and Neytiri meet fics and maybe when Spider was conceived Jake was human. The possibilities are endless rn guys. Spider would REALLY be a freak of nature I love it.
I’m Bored and Anxious So I Slapped Together a List of Fan Fic Writer Asks
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idk if it’s just me but Lo’ak’s body language/reaction (or lack thereof) to what he did in this scene never came off as fear or shock to me, which I’ve seen lots assume. It eerily resembles exhilaration, and you can literally see it in his eyes, his stance, the way he’s breathing, everything. His eyes and his facial expression show zero regret or conflicting emotions towards the fact that he just killed someone. Hence why neteyam was like ??? when he snapped him out of it and told him to come on; he genuinely looked concerned.
I also think that’s a big connection/parallel between him and Payakan. Payakan is outcast because he doesn’t live by the Tulkun way, and believes in killing. Lo’ak seems to be the only one who understands Payakan, and he feels a deep understanding for what he did and why he did it, probably because he also feels outcast himself. The na’vi also don’t believe in killing, they say “killing only brings more killing”, but I think it’s clear from this scene alone that Lo’ak will stray from those beliefs.
I’m like 90% sure Lo’ak is going to develop a thrill for killing (that i hope we see in the next movies) a feeling that both invigorates and frightens him once he realizes it’s presence— almost like how Neytiri gets when she fights. He feels guilty for Neteyam’s death, and I’m almost certain that guilt will turn to unresolved anger, resulting in more death. Especially because he wants revenge for what the sky people did to his brother.
