#source mates can interact

[slimeflowersandsunshine]

Tallulah: hi :DD

Sunny: you fucking scare me

tallulah: yay! :DD

Y’all please help me melody are trapped in co with these two -flippa

[million-with-a-b]

"Doubles dni." we are not the same person! Hope this helps.

[chuluoyi]

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍

- sylus x reader

when your husband went away without so much as a proper notice, you thought you wouldn't forgive him so easily. but he tries everything to capture your heart back: spoiling and indulging you… little do you know that he expects a reward in return

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—rotten fluff, domestic bliss, explicit smut, cunnilingus, fingering, mating press, taking elements from sylus' card night of secrecy, secret times approaching dusk and spoilers! from myth beyond cloudfall

note: my first sylus x mc fic! with this i'm spreading the soft!sylus agenda and that spicy 4-star approaching dusk has destroyed me :') loosely based on this post

Sometimes, you do wonder... does Sylus really think you're that easy to placate?

On one chilly morning, you woke up only to discover your hunk of a husband gone... and in his side of the bed, a sticky note.

Your eyebrow twitched as you read the audacious message scrawled on it:

Hey, kitten. I need to leave for a few days. There are things I have to handle on my own. Take care of yourself while I’m away. I’ll come back soon.

That was it. No clear explanation, no further details. Just those vague words in such short notice. The day before, he’d seemed like his usual self, not a hint of this sudden departure in sight.

It irked you. It made your heart clench at the same time. Because even after marrying you, Sylus remained elusive, playing his cryptic games. It was beyond you how he didn't even stop to consider how you were left worrying about him while he drifted in and out of his dangerous world without a second thought.

You understood the reality of your lives—that you were a hunter and he was the Onychinus leader, and that to be with him meant you had to walk that fine gray line between light and dark.

And you'd already made your choice. You had accepted it—accepted him—wholly. Even when your marriage had been a rushed affair and registered under false names to protect both your identities.

Things couldn't go on like this. You had to teach him a lesson too.

As your irritation simmered into determination, a devious plan began to take shape in your mind—a way to spite him just enough to make your point crystal clear.

Two days later

Sylus was done with his dirty business faster than he thought, and to appease you, he had come bearing gifts.

The precious little thing that is now his wife, of course he missed you too. But your safety was a price he wasn’t willing to gamble. If going away to take care of those pests meant your peace would be unperturbed, then he would leave without hesitation.

However, as he stepped inside the base, his relief quickly turned to unease. The space was eerily empty, the usual hum of activity conspicuously absent.

Normally, you’d be at the center of some commotion, locked in a spat with either Mephisto, or Luke and Kieran. But now—

“What do we do?! She’s gone!”

Sylus immediately rushed to the source of the ruckus, thinking something bad had happened to you. He found his henchmen standing in a tight, anxious circle around the coffee table.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Without a word, they stepped aside, revealing the object of their concern: a single note lying on the table.

He snatched it up, scanning the words. Then, he let out a sharp exhale of relief, a smirk began tugging at the corners of his lips.

Catch me if you can.

Typical. Absolutely typical. And maddeningly you.

. . .

That night, you had a very strange dream, it felt almost felt like stepping into the pages of an ancient tale.

You were a fallen princess wrongfully accused as a sorceress, who began consorting with the fearsome fiend from the Abyss.

The sorceress and her dragon. Together, you were an infamous pair, a dark legend whispered across generations. Your union had ignited Doomsday itself... and yet, amidst the turmoil and destruction, the sorceress fell in love with the dragon... deeply and irrevocably.

The dragon, in turn, was utterly bewitched by his little witch. He indulged your every whim, no matter how mischievous or perilous, and though he rarely spoke of his true feelings, he always found ways to show his affection.

The lucid dream felt as though it might go on forever, but you were pulled from it by the soft brush of lips against your forehead. The warmth lingered, blurring the lines between dream and reality, until your eyes fluttered open.

“Sylus...?” His features, fresh from your dream, now materialized in your reality. It took you a few seconds to realize that he had come here—

“Morning, sweetie.” His voice was rich and smooth, with that familiar, mischievous edge. A smirk curled on his devilishly handsome face as he leaned in, garnet eyes gleaming with playful intent. “Caught you now, hmm?”

The haze of sleep vanished in an instant, and you were suddenly wide awake. In a flurry, you shoved him away and turned your back on him, trying to regain some semblance of control.

You’d left the N109 Zone for one of his safehouses in suburban Chansia City, thinking it would take him some effort to track you down. Clearly, you’d underestimated him.

“Oh. The kitten is in a bad mood, it seems.” Sylus’ gaze lingered on you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well, what do I owe the ire for?”

“...”

“Silent treatment, huh? The lady of the house is getting better at our little games while I was away.”

“...”

“Remember, sweetie, there’s no divorce in our relationship, hmm? If you’re tired of me, keep taking naps.”

You felt the weight shift as he rose from the bed and stalked away. The door clicked shut, leaving you in the silence of the room.

You wanted to resent him for coming and going on his terms, for never offering even an apology. Yet, no matter how much you tried, a part of you remained hopelessly tethered to him. The part that couldn’t ignore the reminder of the dragon from your dream—captivating, powerful, and infuriatingly hard to resist.

You love him, really you do.

. . .

When you didn’t come down for breakfast some time later, Sylus barged into the room once again, and this time he came up with a different approach.

“My lady,” he began, his voice sickeningly low and sweet, but his eyes gleamed with a touch of mischief. “You haven’t had breakfast yet. Please come down.”

You shot him a look, unamused, and decided to play his game as you crossed your arms together. “What if I don't want to?”

His smirk only grew, his tone dripping with mock formality. “And what must I do to change your mind?”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but notice his persistence. He had chased you here, given you more time to sleep in, and now stood before you to get you to eat. You felt your resolve beginning to soften—maybe just a little.

“Carry me there,” you said with a hint of defiance, lifting your chin high, daring him to follow through.

Sylus tilted his head, failing to restrain his snort. “As you wish, my lady.”

He placed his arms around you effortlessly, one hand beneath your knees and the other supporting your back, lifting you into a flawless princess carry. You instinctively put your arms around his neck, and he turned to you.

You opened your mouth, ready to fire off a sharp retort, but before you could, he dived in—

Smooch!

—and planted a bold, wet kiss on your lips. You, wide-eyed, punched his chest in retaliation. “Sylus!”

He chuckled, entirely unfazed. “Careful now, sweetie. Wiggle too much, and you’ll fall.”

He carried you downstairs, effortlessly navigating each step with you still in his arms. Once there, he gently set you down onto the dining chair, and that was when you noticed the table.

Salad, slightly burnt toast, scrambled eggs, milk—simple dishes by all means, but the thought the big, bad Sylus making them?

Wait. When you arrived last night, this place was a dusty shell, and the refrigerator had practically nothing—

“You cleaned the place?” you asked, your tone laced with surprise as your turned from the spotless room to him.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why is that so surprising? I can cook and clean just like everyone else.”

It sent a wave of warmth through your chest. He’d prepared food and cleaned the place knowing you’d be hungry and uncomfortable with dust all around.

You huffed, trying to hide how your heart fluttered. “No, your cooking skills are questionable at best.”

As if to prove you wrong, Sylus disappeared into the pantry and reemerged with a tray of warm, freshly baked dough that filled the room with a heavenly aroma.

“You are... baking?” You approached him, mystified at the sight of your husband, who usually at the scene of crime, behind the counter and started frosting the cupcakes.

He set the frosting bag down and picked up a cupcake, holding it to your lips with a teasing smile. “Here. Open up.”

Dutifully, you nibbled on the cupcake, and the sweetness immediately spread into your mouth. “It's tasty,” you mumbled, blinking at him. His eyes crinkled with satisfaction as he gestured toward the tray.

“Go have some more.”

Grinning, you grabbed another cupcake and eagerly took a bite. Munching away, you missed how Sylus’ gaze softened, his bright red eyes focused solely on you.

He couldn't resist pinching your full cheeks at that moment.

“Sy-wus!” you protested, glaring at him. His laughter broke free that instant, warm and unrestrained.

Utterly funny, utterly precious—that’s what you were to him.

Indignant, you scooped up some icing from the cupcake and smeared it right across his face. The stunned look he gave you was priceless, and before he could react, you burst into a fit of giggles and bolted out of the kitchen.

But as you reached the base of the stairs, a strong arm caught your waist from behind, halting your escape. You squealed in surprise, “Noooo!”

Sylus leaned closer and pressed you to his chest, his voice rumbling in your ear. “Ha. Did you really think you could get away that easily?”

He lifted you up with one arm and brought you back to the kitchen, setting you down on the counter and trapping you in place with his arms braced on either side. His eyes sparkled with mirth as he leaned in, and with a grin, he bumped his frosting-smeared nose against yours, leaving a sticky smudge.

“This is unfair!” you protested, still caught in a fit of giggles as you looped your arms around his neck for balance. Sylus chuckled along with you, his gaze steady and warm, never leaving yours.

Being with Sylus in the kitchen like this, savoring simple meals and smearing each other with frosting, it made you realize that you craved this domestic bliss more than you thought.

As the laughter subsided and you both settled into the quiet, your expression softened, all your previous grievances forgotten. The tenderness in your eyes said everything you didn’t need words for, and Sylus could see it clearly—you adored him, just as much as he adored you.

The one who gazed into his jewel-like eyes, embraced his burning soul and sang to him in the night wind... is once again in his arms. A part of him was almost sentimental at the thought.

Instinctively, he closed the distance between you, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. But as they were about to meet, he paused, as if hesitating, leaving you puzzled.

Then, without a second thought—

To hell with it.

You chose to abandon all senses. You seized the moment—yanking him to you and capturing his lips, claiming him for yourself.

“…!” Suck, suck, bite, suck— You were relentless, and you didn't really know why. At first, even he was taken aback, but then his hand slipped behind your head, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in an intoxicating rhythm.

“Mmm...” You sneakily began to undo the buttons of his shirt one by one, your fingertips grazing his warm skin with each deliberate motion. Feeling it, Sylus broke the kiss just enough to smirk, his voice husky. “Getting bold, aren’t we?”

But before you could respond, his hands trailed down your sides, firmly pulling you closer, leaving no space between the two of you. His gaze burned with desire, as if daring you to keep going.

Then, without warning, his lips began their descent, grazing your jaw softly before trailing down to your neck and chest, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers across your skin. The feeling was intoxicating, even as his hair tickled you, making it hard to focus on anything but him.

“Ahh,” you couldn’t help but sigh, pressing him closer.

His lips left wet marks on your neck, and he whispered, “Now tell me... what made you so upset that you left home?”

When you didn't answer right away, one of his hand slid beneath your blouse, unhooking your bra and grazed your skin—

“You... keep coming and going as you please...” you stammered, feeling him begin to cup and squeeze your breasts, your breath growing erratic.

Sylus bit down on the skin at the nape of your neck, and you almost gasped.

“It's almost as if— Mmm—” The way he fondled your chest made the space between your legs grow warmer. “—you wouldn’t... miss m-me at all...”

How untrue. He stopped his ministrations, and the steel behind those eyes you loved so much met your gaze once again.

His wife was a mess of sweat already. He swiftly hooked your thighs around his waist and claimed your lips once more. With effortless movement, Sylus guided you to the long recliner in the room, laying you down there, still lost in the heat of the kiss. His hand intertwined with yours, pinning you to the soft surface.

“So...” he rasped, breathless against your lips, “You’re upset that I didn't miss you when I was away...”

His other hand worked to unzip your skirt. “But don’t you know? I... was worried about my wife getting into trouble when I wasn’t with her too... That’s why I was in a hurry to go home...”

Sylus pulled away, both of you panting for air, and he took a moment to savor the sight of your glazed eyes.

“But then I couldn't find her anywhere.” His voice was low and taunting, trailing his fingers on your belly. “I made it back as soon as I could, just like I told you and you are the one who misbehaved... Don’t you think I deserve something as a compensation?”

It took you three solid seconds to realize that the lower half of your body was now exposed. Your husband parted your legs and settled his face between them, pressing a kiss on your knee.

“So I believe at the very least... I deserve this.”

He dived straight for your clit then and you let out a loud gasp.

“Ngh! Aaah...!” You let out incoherent moans as he devoured your folds, lost in the cloudy haze of pleasure. It didn’t take long to unravel you at all.

“Mmnh—!” Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head. Ticklish, hot, wet— all in all, it felt like a sin, but you just had to get this heavenly taste. “…a-ah!”

Sylus felt how you were this close to get your orgasm, so he moved faster, licking and sucking your clit, while adding a couple of fingers to bring you to the peak faster. You unconsciously moved your hips against his face— too far gone to be thinking anything else, grasping the leather of the sofa and pulling his hair—

“Ahh— S-Sylus!” And then you came hard, screaming his name, feeling how much it was— were you squirting?

You didn't know, didn't care either, as it was the sight of his ruby eyes that grounded you. You were spent, spread on the sofa (most probably ruined it, even), your chest heaving to catch your breath.

Sylus let out a low rumble as he wiped your juices off his lips with a thumb and tasted it, looking so sinfully sexy like a forbidden fruit while at it.

“You said... I wouldn't miss you.” He traced one finger on your face with such tenderness. “Now, I'm going to show you, and you'll be judge of it. Are you sure you don't want me to stop?”

If you said no, he would comply. That was the kind of person he was and you knew it. Sylus had always looked out for you since the very beginning, no matter how nonchalant he made himself to be.

“No.” You met his eyes, your voice steady. “Show me.”

It was the only affirmation he needed. He began unbuckling his belt and pants, keeping his unclouded gaze on yours, and soon he too was bare before you.

He was thick and long, and while you had taken him many times, it was never fully easy to ease the intrusion. His tip was already slick with precum, and he spread it along his length.

“You know the rule,” he murmured with a meaningful smile. “If it becomes too much, you scream, and I'll stop.”

He positioned himself at your entrance, sliding in slowly. The sharpness of the stretch seeped into you bit by bit, and you couldn't help but groan.

“—!” A sharp hiss escaped you as he fully sheathed himself inside, hitting that sensitive spot. Had your eyes deceived you, or was there a slightly noticeable bulge in your belly from where he was?

Sylus seemed to notice it too, but he folded your knees, spreading you further. His gaze intense and filled with something deep, something possessive. The room seemed to narrow, your entire focus consumed by him as he settled in close.

“Eyes on me, kitten.” He gave you a smile, and with that, he started pounding you—

“Ah, hah, ahhh!” You couldn't stop moaning beneath him as he thrusted into you. The feeling of him so deep inside, coupled with the way you tightened around him, sent waves of blind pleasure through you.

Sylus’ eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he watched you squirm under him. Your skin glistened with the heat of the moment, and the sound of your breaths, frantic and needy, filled the room. His control slipped, just a little, as he pushed deeper, his movements faster, chasing the release that quickly building within both of you.

A pretty mess, his wife is. Your face contorted in a mix of pleasure and pain as he bred you, and he swore, of everything he had gone through, this look in your face was always worth it.

“Sylus—!” you almost wailed, nails digging into his back, and he growled, knowing full-well that he was finally losing it.

Just like that he shot his cum straight to your womb, his own body shuddering, thoroughly rutting into you. You cried, tears falling from your lashes as you too reached your climax.

Full, too full... Yet you knew that you wouldn't have it another way.

. . .

It felt warm and comforting.

Your eyes fluttered open hours later, and the first thing you noticed was Sylus' sleeping face, and that you were now in the bedroom.

He looked so vulnerable like this. You couldn’t help but be drawn to how serene and unguarded he was, a side of him that only you got to see. Even in his sleep, his arms were wrapped around your waist, as if to protect you from anything that might disturb your rest.

Your lover... and then husband. He was rough around the edges, sometimes didn't make any sense at all, and often reckless enough to burn himself playing with fire.

“You sly crow…” You gazed at his profile, still in awe that this elusive man was your husband.

Sylus was easy to read sometimes, and you couldn’t help but smile at your earlier doubts about him. How could you not see just how deeply he was attached to you?

Just like the inseparable pair of dragon and sorceress in your dream, you knew you’d stay by his side until the very end.

Out of a playful surge of affection, you tapped his nose, and he grunted softly but didn’t wake, instead nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, seeking more of your warmth. It was cute, how he was so worn out that he sought comfort in your embrace.

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead then, vowing with everything you had that you’d never let him go, and that with him by your side, you would definitely made this life you shared a happy one.

Several weeks later...

“Thank you, miss!”

The boy bowed his head with a wide grin as soon as you handed him the red pocket money for Linkon New Year. You waved at him, smiling warmly as he skipped away, clutching the envelope in his hands.

The festive occasion inspired you to pay a visit to a nearby orphanage, driven by a desire to share more of the joy and blessings. You brought small gifts and red envelopes, hoping to bring a little light to the children’s lives and make the celebration even more meaningful for them.

Of course, Sylus tagged along too. He was the benefactor, after all.

“Sir, thank you for your generosity.” The headmistress approached Sylus, who looked effortlessly sharp in his red suit, and gave his hand a shake. “The children are really happy with the cupcakes and pocket money.”

He merely chuckled and pointed at you with his chin. “Thank her, my wife is the one with the idea.”

You joined the conversation shortly after, and it didn’t take long for the topic to shift from the orphanage to your personal lives.

“So, do the two of you have plans to start a family soon?” the headmistress asked, her tone warm and curious. “Both of you are still young, and you're so good with kids. Having children of your own might bring even more joy into your lives.”

You mustered a polite laugh, the words to gracefully deflect her comment forming on your lips, when—

“Soon,” Sylus interjected smoothly, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. “Very soon, in fact.”

You blinked at him, startled by his bold declaration, while the headmistress’s face lit up with approval. You nudged him discreetly.

As soon as the headmistress went on her way, you turned to him with a frown. “Why would you tell her that?”

Your gaze met his, clear and utterly clueless. Sylus snorted, so tempted to pinch your cheeks, but settling instead for a tender pat on your head.

“You'll see soon enough, sweetie,” he replied, his tone laced with playful mystery.

Epilogue

It was the dead of night when a sudden wave of nausea overtook you. Stumbling out of bed, you rushed to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before retching up the contents of your stomach.

Your body trembled as you stood, dizziness threatening to topple you. Leaning heavily on the sink for support, you rinsed your mouth, trying to steady yourself. The effort left you shivering, your legs almost buckling beneath you.

Before you could even comprehend the blur in your vision, a pair of strong arms got a hold over you. “S-Sylus...?” you murmured faintly.

Without hesitation, he lifted you into his arms securely as he carried you back to the bedroom, his expression shadowed with concern.

As he settled you onto the bed, he held you close, pressing your face against his bare chest that peeked from his unbuttoned shirt. “Take deep breaths,” he urged softly, his voice grounding you.

You inhaled shakily, letting the familiar warmth of his scent calm your frayed nerves. Slowly, your breathing steadied, though the nausea still lingered in the back of your throat.

“Is it the first time?” he questioned, smoothing your hair. “Have you thrown up before?”

You shook your head. “No... I get dizzy spells but that's it... This is the first time.”

Nausea, dizziness, vomiting. It wasn't hard to piece together what it was. Amidst your dazed thoughts, the realization hit you, and you turned to your husband almost in wonder. “Sylus... a-am I...?”

Sylus broke into a smirk, ruffling your hair. “Told you. I know your period is late.”

Your heart skipped a beat—and it was the only thing you could hear in that moment. The thought that a baby would enter your lives left you briefly speechless.

“Yeah, at the rate we're going, it’s like we’re bunnies,” you quipped sullenly, trying to regain a sense of control as you leaned into his broad chest.

You really thought he would poke fun at you for your highly possible pregnancy, but instead you were taken aback when he pressed a fond, lingering kiss to the side of your head. His arms tightened around you, his soft chuckle reverberating through his chest.

And when you found his gaze again, his jewel-like eyes softened into such an extent that made your heart soar.

“Well, aren’t I the luckiest man— having this fair lady be the mother of my child?”

[cutielando]

what's a soft launch? | max verstappen

social media au

synopsis: in which Max soft launches his new girlfriend, his boss' daughter...

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: max verstappen x horner!reader

my masterlist

Instagram

liked by maxverstappen1, gigihadid and 4,192,472 others

yn.horner thank you for having me, VS 🎀

view all 69,842 comments

gigihadid you're gorgeous <3 so happy to have had you there with us

yn.horner awwww thank you g!! ly!!!🤍

zendaya you killed it!!🤍

yn.horner thank you babe!!🫶🏻🫶🏻

user1 my jaw is on the floor.

user2 MOTHER

user3 SHE'S THE MOMENT, SHE'S THE MOMENT❗️

user4 imagine how lucky her friends are🥲🥲

alexandrasaintmleux i am so proud of you <3

yn.horner thank you, alex!!! 🤍

lilymhe how are you so beautiful? 😭

yn.horner you tell me, love 😭🤍

redbullracing our girl! 💙 liked by yn.horner

user5 i need to know what Christian had to say about this lol

yn.horner he was in the front row 😅 he loved it!!

user6 so nobody is going to address Max being in her likes??

user7 they’ve known each other ever since he joined Red Bull, i think they’re friends. not that weird

user6 true, but i heard some rumors that he might be in a relationship too…

user8 your honor, i love her ! liked by yn.horner

liked by yn.horner, landonorris and 2,103,476 others

maxverstappen1 Always a pleasure to be back in Abu Dhabi

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user1 NEW COUPLE ALERT ❗️❗️❗️

user2 is Max in his soft-launch era?

user3 MAX HAS A GIRLFRIEND??????

landonorris sneaky, mate

maxverstappen1 thanks for teaching me

user4 i never thought i would see the day when Max would learn something relationship-related from Lando

landonorris neither did i 😂

redbullracing keep pushing! 💙 liked by maxverstappen1

yn.horner i'm telling Dad you refused to wear the RB shirt

maxverstappen1 please don't, i genuinely forgot it this morning

yn.horner LIAR

redbullracing how about we have a chat before quali, Max?

maxverstappen1 I can’t believe you ratted me out

user6 if people still don't think that Y/N and Max are dating, i'm sorry for you guys

user7 why do you think that? they've been friends for years

user6 they've never interacted on social media before, and suddenly started leaving comments on each other's posts a couple of weeks ago?

user8 that doesn't mean anything, to be honest. we should really stop reading so much into their personal lives...

charles_leclerc i see you've finally grown the courage to do it, Max

maxverstappen1 courage is a strong word. i have enough courage

charles_leclerc sure you do

user9 they're dating, i'm also calling it

Real Life

"Someone just said they think we're dating" you said, showing Max a comment you had seen under his new post.

Max read the comment and chuckled, shaking his head.

"We can't hide anything from them, can we?" he said, leaning back down to rest his head in your lap.

"No, but we can have a little fun with it before we announce it officially, don't you think?" you said, a smirk tugging at your lips.

If there was something that you loved and was really known for, it was trolling the media and the fans.

Even though it would drive your father crazy and give your PR team much more work than what they would hope for, but the fans were digging it.

Despite knowing you were messing with them, they loved the cat and mouse chase you always had going on with them.

"Again? You know Christian told us to tone it down a notch, especially you" Max said, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

You sighed, jutting out your bottom lip in an adorable pout that you knew Max could never resist.

"But you know it's fun. Don't deprave me of my only source of entertainment, Max" you whined, gazing up at him with your best puppy dog eyes you could muster up.

Max sighed, shaking his head as he looked away from you and stared at the wall in front of him.

He knew he would give in sooner or later, which he blamed himself for always falling for your little trick.

"Alright, fine. But you're gonna deal with Horner on your own when he comes knocking on our door" he said, pointing with his finger at you.

You squealed and nodded before launching yourself at him, attacking his face with little kisses as you giggled.

"Promise"

Instagram

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yn.horner doing very sinful things in Sin City 🤑

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user1 SOS ALERT: MOTHER HAS LANDED IN VEGAS

user2 oh no, here we go🥹

redbullracing remember: please keep it PG! 😁

yn.horner as i've already told you, i'm not a child

redbullracing your PR team would disagree

redbullracing Y/N, please remember what we talked about - PR team

yn.horner THE BETRAYAL

user3 i love how the red bull team can't keep up with her😂😂

yn.horner they just don't know how to have fun :(

maxverstappen1 we all know your idea of 'fun' is hardly normal

yn.horner i don't remember you complaining until now

gigihadid can't wait to see you, bestie!!🎀

yn.horner can't wait!! i've missed you🤍🫶🏻

user4 just casually being besties with the biggest model in the world. oh, to be her, man

landonorris oh boy

yn.horner shut up

user5 your honor, she's mothering so hard right now🥹

user6 do we agree yet that the boyfriend she is soft-launching is Max?

user7 yep

user8 at this point, looks like it

user9 just waiting for confirmation at this point

lilymhe ditch him and come hang with me bby

yn.horner omw!!!

alex_albon well, that was easy...

liked by yn.horner, redbullracing and 1,291,483 others

maxverstappen1 Thank you, Vegas. It was a very special one. Grateful for everything, grateful for winning my fourth championship with this team. Let's keep pushing to the end of the season!🦁

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yn.horner you showed them, champ 🦁

maxverstappen1 <3

redbullracing proud of you, Max! here's to many more! 🦁🦁 liked by yn.horner and maxverstappen1

landonorris well done, max. i'll get you next year

yn.horner keep dreaming, orange boy

landonorris hey...don't be mean...

maxverstappen1 what she said

landonorris ...

charles_leclerc congrats! now, can you let some of us have a go...?

maxverstappen1 no

charles_leclerc oh, come on...

yn.horner go away, french boy

charles_leclerc hey, i'm monegasque!!!!

user1 another testament to his greatness

user2 4-time world champ!!! congrats max!!

user3 i still wanna know who his girlfriend is

user4 it's obviously Y/N, they just like playing with us

user5 maybe they'll confirm it now that he's won his 4th championship

user6 hopefully, imagine Max and Y/N Horner actually dating

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 5,194,816 others

yn.horner dear max. i don't think my words on this post do you justice, but i'm going to do my best to encapsulate the feelings that i have for you right now. it has been a privilege for me to be by your side for the past couple of years, cheering you on from the sidelines and celebrating the highs with you behind the scenes. we have come a long way and we have had a hard road, but i am so proud of what we have achieved together and the people that we have become. i am beyond grateful to be able to share life with you, both in and out of the paddock. i love you, max verstappen, and i am so proud of you, my love tagged: maxverstappen1

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maxverstappen1 thank you for being you. i love you<3

yn.horner i love you too <3

landonorris thank God I don't have to keep it a secret anymore

yn.horner you almost exposed us more times than i can count -_-

landonorris but i didn't

maxverstappen1 you got lucky

redbullracing our favorite couple!!

charles_leclerc i am so happy for you guys!

maxverstappen1 thanks mate!

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[uncharismatic-fauna]

Back with the Black-footed Ferret

The black-footed ferret, also known as the American polecat or the prairie dog hunter (Mustela nigripes) is a species of mustelid native to central North America; its historical range stretched from southern Canada to northern Mexico. Its habitat overlaps with that of prairie dogs, and largely consists of prairie, scrubland, and steppe environments.

Black-footed ferrets rely on grasslands for food, and the average adult maintains a territory of 148 acres (60 ha). They are highly solitary, and both males and females will fiercely defend their space from other ferrets. Within this range, the prairie dog hunter feeds almost exclusively on prairie dogs; when prairie dogs aren't available, their diet is supplemented with mice, squirrels, and rabbits. Adults hunt mainly at night, and during the day they will shelter in abandoned prairie dog burrows. While fearsome fighters, both adults and kits are vulnerable to predation from birds of birds of prey, owls, coyotes, badgers, foxes, and bobcats.

Though they generally are not social, American polecats do interact with other polecats once a year to mate, generally in March or April. Females will actively seek out and entice males, and individuals with both sexes likely mate with multiple partners. After mating, the female returns to her territory, and after a 45 day pregnancy she gives birth to a litter of 1-6 kits. The young are blind and deaf at birth, but grow quickly and are weaned at about 6 weeks old. In the fall, they leave their mother to establish their own territories, and reach full maturity by the following year. Adults can live up to 12 years in the wild.

Both male and female black-footed ferrets have similar appearances. Like other ferrets, they have an elongated body and triangular head, to better help them squeeze into small burrows in search of prey. The paws, the tip of the tail, and patches around the eyes are marked in black; the rest of the body is tan, russet, or brown with a light cream underbelly. The average adult measures 50 cm (19.7 cm) long and weighs 650 g (1.43 lb); females are slightly smaller than males.

Conservation status: M. nigripes is considered Engangered by the IUCN. Threats come from habitat destruction and the decimation of their primary food source, as well as human-introduced disease. There is only one known wild population left, though there are a number of captive-bred populations in zoos and reintroduction programs. One group, currently run by Native Americal tribal biologists, is raising funds to continue their work restoring black-footed ferrets to their native habitats (April 18, 205).

Photos

Clyde Nishimura

J. Michael Lockhart

Chris Prague

[yanderes-galore]

I'm requesting a Mermaid AU with Luffy accidentally courting his Darling by giving them seashells! It can be a concept or a scenario :)

Honestly, this is just an excuse for me to ramble about merman Luffy because I find Luffy adorable :(

This AU is still being tweaked. I'm not sure what characters should stay human or who should be merpeople. So since this is me just throwing around cute ideas, this may change in the future.

There's just so many thoughts... Shanks being a one armed merman... whale Kaido I want to explore... Nami and Sanji are probably sirens while Zoro is a shark or something (Swordfish...?). Then there's the ASL trio I can explore... all pretty colors (Yellow/Blue, Orange, Red) I can definitely explore this in the future >:)

Yandere! Merman! Luffy accidentally courting his obsession

Pairing: Platonic -> Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Clingy behavior, Accidental courting, Merman x Human, Mentions of 'mate', Overprotective behavior, Oblivious Luffy, Possessive/Protective behavior, Dubious relationship.

I always imagine Luffy struggles with romance.

Normal Luffy, AU Luffy, just... Luffy.

He hasn't had any experience with romantic attraction.

Even less so in this AU.

Luffy was never taught merfolk courting.

The brothers he did have left for their own pods, leaving Luffy to explore.

Granted, he eventually found his own little group after encountering Shanks at a young age.

But, again, he doesn't understand courting.

Even when he sees Sanji try to give Nami or Robin shells, or even flirt with humans...

Luffy is clueless, too focused on exploring to care.

I imagine Luffy just thinks giving shells to someone he likes is what friends would do.

He really is a platonic yandere until influenced.

So imagine if Luffy has a human obsession, who either doesn't understand courting or is just researching merfolk and sirens, and mimics what Sanji's doing.

He'd do it for a long time, too.

Luffy, being the curious merman he is, usually picks up all sorts of trinkets to give you.

Gold coins, shells, lost items, so many different items.

You find it amusing, he looks so excited when he gives you these items.

Luffy feels this is right... He feels so excited and warm when he sees you!

His group is usually on stand by, watching carefully as Luffy interacts with his 'human friend'.

It would be even more interesting if you live on a research vessel to learn more about Luffy's species.

To other merfolk, it looks like Luffy is courting you.

Sanji often grumbles about it, muttering how courting humans is what he does.

But, again, Luffy doesn't understand this.

He thinks he's just excited when he's around you.

You make him feel warm, like he wants to be closer to you.

He'd be oblivious until one of two things happens.

Sanji brings it up, accusing Luffy of courting a human...

That or you, a researcher, brings it up and asks if he's trying to court you.

Regardless of the source, Luffy is stunned by such a statement.

Courting...?

Does that mean... He wants you as a mate...?

The thought is a strange one to Luffy.

He had no idea giving you gifts means he wishes to court you.

Then again... He always looks forward to seeing you.

He gets protective about you since you can't handle yourself as much as he can...

That and he does enjoy your touch when he takes you swimming....

... is that what courting means?

He isn't familiar with mates... He knows they have a special connection but he doesn't know what they do...

Well... If being mates doesn't change his feelings for you...

Then maybe you should be mates!

I like to think he isn't that flustered when he brings it up.

He's blunt, excitedly swimming up to you with his eyes sparkling.

Only to say the strangest thing from your perspective....

"We're mates!"

To him, mates are the same as being best friends based on what he's seen.

Let's be honest, Luffy wouldn't know how to actually mate unless it was explained... Even then he may not get it.

Most of his pod, while they understand it's Luffy, are baffled that he's clueless as a mature merman.

It's an awkward conversation for you to have when you try to calm Luffy down, trying to explain to him the situation.

Mate is the same as having a lover in human culture...

It goes right over his head, the merman simply cuddling you with a wide smile.

He's going to say you're mates to just about everyone you come across.

Unlike other merfolk, he doesn't flirt.

He's clingy and affectionate but has a rather innocent view on relationships.

He just knows he wants to protect you and... sometimes gets a bit anxious when you're around other merfolk or humans....

Is that normal for mates?

Do mates want their mate all to themselves?

...

The thought is foreign yet oddly pleasant to him.

Luffy would probably learn from experience.

He'd ask Sanji, Ace, or Sabo what mates do with each other.

Eventually he'll learn about kissing, which is different from the cuddles he normally does with you....

He's curious, often staring at your lips as you talk.

I wouldn't be surprised if he just leaned closer and kissed you, thinking that's what mates do.

When you turn him down, he's confused.

You didn't like it...? That's weird, he did...

You tasted nice.

This isn't really meant to be a full Merman! Luffy Concept, yet it's an idea.

Hopefully kissing is the extent of what he learns when it comes to courting.

The last thing you need is Luffy learning something new from one of his pals...

Only to have him talking about intimacy on his next visit.

"Hey, mate... What's mating...?"

[roc-haze]

Arm’s Length | Will Lenney

Read Part 1 here!

In which Will is all in.

——

Cal: Can we talk? I miss you.

“I didn’t realise that you and Cal were still talking.” Will’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“We’re not, really. Why? Has something happened?” Y/N looked to his phone. “Is he texting you?”.

“Darling, this is your phone.” Will handed it to her, the screen illuminating.

She looked at the message, confused but deciding to lay the phone face down.

“Are you gonna get back to him?” Will asked.

“Not right now. It’s probably a drunk text,” she rested her hand over the top of his. “Anyway… back to what I was saying.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what really happened between you two?” Will chose his tone carefully, not wanting to sound too accusatory.

The group were largely unaware of the small romance between Cal and Y/N. Bach had spotted them walking hand in hand through the tube station on a Wednesday evening, but put it down to nothing after finding Cal swiping through Tinder the following weekend. Will, however, had an inside source. Harry Lewis.

They had been filming a pub golf video for Chris’s channel when Harry had brought it up.

“Mate.. can you believe Y/N and Lux?” Harry lowered his voice.

“What do you mean?” Will hadn’t heard anything from Y/N.

“She hasn’t said anything?”. Harry cocked an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure they’re together. Like in a serious way. He was asking if he should introduce her to his family.”

“If it’s legit, she’ll tell me when she’s ready.” Will took a sip of his drink, avoiding meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Do you think she’s embarrassed of him? It seems like he wants everyone to know… but she hasn’t even told you? You basically live in her pocket.” Harry questioned Will, somewhat disbelieving his longtime friend.

“Nah, I don’t think she’d be embarrassed of ‘im. He’s a good lad. It’s probably just a lot to figure your shit out with a group as big as this.” Will had always known Y/N to be calm. Level headed. Always with a plan. She’s just probably not ready to tell people yet. She wouldn’t until she was sure he was the one.

Harry placed a hand on his shoulder. “Not gonna lie mate, I thought it would be you.”

Less than 3 weeks later, Y/N had thrown herself into work. Cal had stopped posting stories of two wine glasses and snippets of songs Y/N had just happened to like. But to their friends, nothing had ever happened. They had always interacted politely, and they moved forward normally. Hey Y/N, you look well. A quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. You too! Did you go to the football this weekend?

When Will had asked her about it, Y/N had just said, “nothing really happened between us… we’re just better off as mates.” He had his suspicions that there was something a little more sinister going on. Maybe one of them had been a little controlling. Or there was a third person in the picture. Cal immediately reinstating his Tinder profile reeked of unfaithful. “That’s a shame. You deserve someone good.” Like me, he felt like saying.

“If I’m being perfectly honest… Cal was starting to feel like he was the placeholder for you.” Y/N hesitated telling him the full truth. “I feel like such a dick. He figured out my feelings about you long before I did. I just kinda feel like I’ve dropped him in shit and then left.”

Will’s face softened. “Fuck. I always kinda assumed the worst.” He shifted in his seat, hand covering his mouth. “No wonder he hasn’t called me recently.”

“Oh come on, Will. It’s a two way street. You haven’t reached out to him either.” Y/N pursed her lips.

“I know… we have that dinner for Freezy’s birthday coming up. I’ll try and talk to him then,” Will reached out for her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Okay.. let’s make sure he’s okay and finish this conversation. We were starting to get somewhere.”

“Can’t we do that first? I have a lot I wanna say to you.” Y/N stared at him, trailing her eyes from his eyes to his lips.

“Don’t look at me like that… you’re making me feel bad. Just send a welfare text or something. I’m not gonna get pissy at him for messaging me girlfriend if the intention is just to be nice.” Will spoke quickly.

Y/N looked straight at him, a smirk beginning to grow. “Girlfriend?”

She typed a message back to Cal, Will’s hand taking up residence on her knee.

Y/N: Yeah, we can. Is everything okay?

Cal: Not really. I feel like our dynamic is kind of fucked at the moment. What do you think?

Cal: (I also have an insurance question but this is probably an inappropriate time to ask 🫣)

Y/N: I think it’s definitely a little stiff. But I expected that. How would you like to move forward? (Send me a meeting invite for tomorrow and we’ll chat through. I’m free after 2pm)

Cal: I miss my mate. I’d love for us to get a point again where we can have a pint and chat shit

Cal: Also schweeet. That time works perfectly

Y/N: Okay. Are you up for a liquid lunch tomorrow? Half productive business insurance, half gossip? 🤭

Cal: Count me in. Meet you at the usual?

Y/N: Sounds good. See you at 2!

Cal: Great 👍 good to have you back mate

Y/N: You too chief 🫡

“Are you happy with that, William? Do you feel better now?” She placed her phone on the table in front of her, giving her full attention to the man in front of her.

He laughed, taking her hands in his. “That was very nicely done. It just didn’t feel right moving forward until you and Lux were in a good spot.”

“Well. Now I’m gonna talk. You’re not going to interrupt me.” She spoke sternly, before flashing him a Cheshire Cat smile.

Will raised his hand to his mouth, making a zipping motion.

“You and me are meant to be. I am into you in the grossest way. Like I’d happily fold your socks. Pop your zits. Whatever you want. I’m all in, Will. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay but I’m going to have to leave London out of embarrassment.” She sat vulnerably, searching the man’s eyes for any emotion. Suddenly, the room felt heavy and the exit was looking a little more appealing.

Will sat in silence, blank stare on his face. A few moments passed.

“Are you going to say anything?” Y/N exclaimed in frustration, her voice beginning to crack.

“Am I allowed to speak now? I didn’t want to interrupt.” He grinned at her, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder in reassurance. “I thought I made it pretty obvious with the whole girlfriend comment, but if you’d like to hear me say it…”.

She nodded, finally sinking back into her seat.

“I won’t pop your zits because you’d just about batter me for not having a pimple patch. But I will carry you home after nights out. Take you on hot dates to the Tesco reduced section. Brag about you to people on the street if you’ll let me.” He stopped to take a breath, captivating her gaze. “I’m all in. Even when you start to think I’m wrinkly and pruny.”

“I thought you were just good looking, but turns out you can sometimes string a romantic sentence together.” She looked at Will sincerely, placing her hands on each side of his face.

“I just speak in syllables. Makes me seem all wise.” He laughed, resting his hands on either side of her waist. He pulled her closer, his breath fanning on her face before their lips met.

The kiss was gentle at first. New. The two of them had known each other so well, but this was uncharted territory.

They pulled away, Y/N resting her hands on his chest. “Why didn’t we do this earlier?”

“Don’t ask me. I’ve been waiting around for you.” Will smiled at her, pulling her into his lap. He joined their lips together again, his hands subtly creeping underneath her knitted jumper.

Y/N ran her hands along his forearms, tracing all the way up to the back of his head and tangling her fingers through his hair. His breath hitched as she lightly pulled on a few strands. Will pulled her impossibly close, attempting to shuffle them into a horizontal position.

As Y/N went to adjust her knees on either side of his, almost in a straddle position, her knee couldn’t get a grip on the leather like material and she started to slide off the couch.

Will, unable to get a grip on her quick enough, decided to go down with the ship. They lay on the soft carpet, side by side.

“Are you alright, pet?” Will tried to hide his laughter as Y/N lay rubbing circles over her elbow.

“Fuck, I think I have carpet burn.” She whined, laughing out of embarrassment.

“D’ya want me to kiss it better?” Will turned to face Y/N, seeing her nod. He sat up, placing a kiss on her cheek. Watching the smile spread across her face, he moved to her forehead, other cheek, jaw, chin and eventually her lips.

She laughed as he pulled away. “Wow, I miraculously feel so much better.”

Before the moment could continue, there was a buzz on the intercom.

“That’d be dinner.” Will sat up, making his way to the door. While he greeted the delivery driver, Y/N made her way to the kitchen to collect the essentials - a bottle of red, two glasses, plates and two sets of chopsticks.

Will met her in the kitchen. “I forgot to tell you.. we’re having sushi”.

“I know. We always get sushi after you film.” She led him back toward the living room, setting up the coffee table to accommodate all of their food.

“I ordered some of the teriyaki chicken salad you like. That way you won’t have to worry about buying any lunch tomorrow at work.” Will grabbed the cushions off of the couch, setting them down so they could sit comfortably on the floor.

“You know me too well, Lenney.” She grinned at him, taking a seat and beginning to search through the Netflix suggestions.

He reached over, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. “Always have, sweetheart. You were only just an arms length away.”

Y/N to Ugly Stepsisters chat: I did it. I got the guy.

———

Author’s note:

All finished! Hopefully not too bad for my first fic out of retirement. If you can’t tell by the title, I have been very much listening to Sam Fender’s new album 🤭

Thanks for reading 🤍🤍

[tallulah477]

Prove To You

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Yandere!Neteyam, ***NON-CON***, Dub-con, Predator/Prey Kink, Chasing, Obsessive/Possessive Behavior, Oral (female receiving), Edging/Orgasm Delay, P in V, Knotting, Size Difference, Fingering, Slight Degradation (use of 'whore'), Belly Bulge, Lapdance (kinda), Creampie, Alien Genitalia, Squirting, A Few Ass Slaps, Mentions of drinking and being tipsy/drunk, Brief Violence/Violent Thoughts (not towards reader), Brief mention of pregnancy, Threat of cutting off another's kuru/neural queue, Thoughts of killing/murder, One (1) non-sexual face slap (reader slaps Neteyam)

Word Count: 9.7K 💀

A/N: Hiiiii it's been a while ���🏻‍♀️

Summary: It was only ever supposed to be a hookup, something fun to pass the time. But to Neteyam, it was so much more than that. He's in love with you, obsessed with you - his perfect little mate. But he doesn't know why you keep running away.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Yawne - Beloved

Tìyawn - Love

Tweng - Loincloth

Tawtute - Human

Kuru - Neural Queue

Tsaheylu - Bond, Neural Connection

Swoasey - kava bowl (constructed from seed pods, used for drinking intoxicating beverages)

Kaltxì - Hello

Pxir - Beer

Tsahìk - Spiritual Leader / Healer

Skxawng - Moron / Idiot

Iknimaya - Rite of Passage

Oel Ngati Kameie - I See You

Tanhì - Star

Muntxate - Wife, Female Spouse

Mawey - Calm

He’d only wanted to kiss you. To feel your soft lips pressed against his again. 

It had been so long since he’d gotten to feel them. The mask you have to wear is always a frustrating obstacle. He begs from time to time for you to pull it off, just for a moment, so he can press his warm lips to yours, taste your tongue on his just for a few blissful seconds before the lack of air catches up with you and you have to replace it.

You always say no, always push his hand away from where he has it cupped lovingly around the side of your head, but it never stops him from asking. 

You’re not wearing a mask now though. Instead, a long tube spans one side of your face, curling around your ear and stretching across your cheek before the very end of it forks off into your nostrils. At first glance he panicked, terrified of the thought of you out in the dangerous Pandora environment as a human without your only source of oxygen. It’s silly. He knows that you could have never made it to the village from the lab without some way of breathing. But he can’t help how he reacts, needing to be sure, needing to know that you’re okay. 

He’s at your side in an instant, kneeling in front of your tiny frame, large hands engulfing your head as his eyes searched your face in concern. You smack his hand away, answering his concerned questions of “Ma yawne, what is going on? Are you okay?” with a short “Fine. It’s the new tech the lab guys made,”

He calms, anxiety slipping from his body now that he knows you’re still safe. His eyes flicker over your face, a small smile pulling at his lips as he takes in all your beautiful features in front of him. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, he’s always thought that, ever since the very first moment he met you all those years ago. But now here, without the thick layer of glass covering your face, it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. 

“You’re so pretty, tìyawn,” He whispers, fingers unconsciously reaching out again to brush against your cheek. It’s finally accessible, bare and soft under his fingertips before the dull sting of another slap knocks his hand away. 

You don’t like public displays of affection. 

Or, at least, now you don’t. 

You used to not mind it. Back before that night in front of the fire, you would touch him all the time - sweet and gentle touches when you were talking, so tactile in your interactions with him. A quick squeeze to his knee whenever he was able to make you laugh, friendly half hugs as greetings that would make his heart pound in his chest every single time, your intoxicating scent filling his lungs and suffocating him in the best way. 

He’d keep his nose buried in your neck, breathing you in until you were all he could smell or think about for the rest of eternity if he could. 

He used to carry you places when you would tag along on fun adventures with him and his siblings. Excitement coursed through him every time you agreed to join them, tail swishing eagerly behind him because he knew that eventually you would get tired from walking and allow him to carry you on his back. You like to talk, prattling on about whatever was going on at the lab or a fun new piece of tech that Norm and the others were working on. Sometimes you’d talk about the current drama - someone said you talked too much, were too abrasive, but that you thought that they personally needed to grow a backbone. He’d listen to whatever you had to say - soaking up your voice like the most melodic song and committing every detail you provide him to memory. 

But your voice has a physical response on him. But the horrified looks his siblings would send him when they would see the tent in his tewng from where his hard cock had slipped out of its sheath was always well worth the embarrassment. The feeling of your soft skin on his - arms wrapping around his neck for balance, his hands completely engulfing your warm thighs from where they wrapped tightly around his torso as far as they could. He’s spent many nights imagining them wrapped around his waist from the front instead.

You didn’t mind public displays of affection when you drank an entire swoasey of pxir and danced in front of him by the fire. The celebration had wound down, the clan members satisfied in celebrating the induction of The People who had passed their Iknimaya just a few hours ago. Only a few younger adults who seemed to have the same idea as you remained now, each couple splintering off to different parts of the campground to get their much needed privacy. Even Lo’ak has moved away, enamored by the pretty girl sitting on his lap, uncaring about the way his hands slide down to cup her ass and pull her closer. 

The fading glow of yellows and oranges look amazing against your skin, the steady crackle of the fire like a song all on its own as your hips move to the music only your own head and nature provides. Neteyam’s eyes are wide, excitement coursing through his veins as he watches your hips sway. You sway too, your body a bit unsteady from the drink still in your hand, but mostly it's your hips - the sensual swish back and forth, beads from your tewng (a gift from Kiri he suspects) clank together against each other and your thighs. Your pretty thighs, so soft he wants to wrap his entire hand around them, spread them open for him and see you like he’s always dreamed of. You’d be so wet, so sticky and drenched for him that he’d be able to just slide right in. You were made for him. Made to take him. He’d fit between your thighs so perfectly despite your size difference, he knows he would. 

His breath catches in his throat when you dance closer, small body seductive in the way it calls to him with your movements. You toss the swoasey to the side, the little liquid that was left pouring out and soaking into the ground beside you. Your hands find their way to his bent knees, heat filled eyes never leaving his as you push his legs apart so you can stand between them, searing him with their intensity even from behind the glass of your mask.

Your hands slide up his legs, tiny fingers creeping up the insides of his thighs and he can’t help the audible gulp that escapes him when he feels his cock nudge against his already wet slit, threatening to poke out at any moment. 

Great Mother, you’re so gorgeous. The most beautiful woman Eywa has ever created. You must have been created by her - no other god or goddess or being could ever have made anything more perfect and irresistible than Eywa herself. 

Surely, the Great Mother has made you for him. Just for him. 

“Why so nervous, Teyam?” You giggle, leaning up as far as you can towards his face while still keeping your teasing hands on his thighs, dangerously close to the now bulging fabric. “Tawtute got your tongue?”

“I–um–” He chokes out. He can’t breath, can’t breath with you so fucking close to him. He wants you so badly, wants to touch you so badly he feels like he might die if he doesn’t.

And then you're turning in the cage of his open thighs, back pressing against his front as you grab his shaking hand. There’s a satisfied smirk on your face as you drag his arm around you, the large appendage spanning your entire chest as he sprawls his fingers out across your front. His fingertips automatically curl around the curve of your breast while his palm caresses the other through your beaded top, his body subconsciously reacting to your own guidance. 

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode in his chest, breathing labored as his hard cock digs into your back.

“You can touch me,” You whisper, but his ears flick at your words and catch them loud and clear. “Want you to play with me.”

“Ha-fuck,” He groans, mouth falling open in silent awe as your top shifts underneath his hand and his finger grazes your hard nipple. Without thinking his hand squeezes your chest, gently but firm enough for you to gasp as he greedily gropes both breasts at once. 

He can smell you now, the mind dizzying scent of your arousal filling the air around you both as you gasp and giggle excitedly at his sudden action, both of your tiny hands reaching up to grip at his big one as you press him tighter against you. 

“Come on, Teyam,” You moan, moan, and he’s not even touching you yet. You turn your head to look at him, craning your neck as you stare up at him with wide, lust filled eyes. “Have some fun with me.”

That night he spent with you under the hypnotic glow of the fire will be forever burned into his mind. Every detail, every moan, every sigh, every praise and whine and plea spilling from your lips as he made love to you for the very first time is kept under the sacred lock and key of his heart - a memory he saved with Eywa back at the Spirit Tree the morning after so that he would never have the possibility of forgetting. 

The memory of your gasp as he pushed you down, beads flying across the mossy ground as he tore your clothes off like an animal and how the roughness of it all made your arousal even stronger. His eyes greedy as they took in their fill of your beautiful body splayed out in front of him like a prize before he covered you with his own. Your fingers teased along his bullet wound scar, tracing the raised line with careful fingers, and he thinks that maybe your loving touch will be enough to fully heal it. 

The place between your thighs feels like home, your tiny pussy swallowing him up and holding him close like the most perfect combination of love and safety. Your voice ringing in his ears, sweet and sensual as you whimper and moan telling him faster, Teyam, fuck me harder, oh god, and he whines in return, cock throbbing and embarrassingly close to bursting so fast already, and sending up thanks and prayers to the Great Mother for granting him this amazing moment with you.

It’s the blending of two hearts, two souls made for each other and coming together as one in a bond so powerful that no one can ever break it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t have a kuru, Neteyam can feel you in himself anyway - can feel you wrapping your tiny fingers around his brain and heart and very being, solidifying your bond together without the need for tsaheylu. 

And when you pull your mask off, holding your breath as the hiss of air escapes from the broken seal around your face - he can’t breathe either. The feel of your lips on his, soft and demanding as you kiss him passionately as he fucks you on the forest floor, makes him see stars.

He’s not sure where the change of behavior came from. One day you were affectionate, touchy and giving with your love, surrounding him with your scent and embrace, pussy wrapped around his cock in a hug so tight he thought you might never let go. He wouldn’t mind that, being buried in your heat forever, warm and loved until the day he dies. But the next morning the walls came up, the attitude started, and when he had gone to greet you with a blinding smile and an adoring ‘kaltxì, yawne,’ on his lips as he bent to kiss your cheek, you pulled back and pressed a firm hand against his belly to push him away. 

He thought that your coldness was nerves, just a reaction a human might have to the new soul bond you’ve experienced. Humans don’t mate for life like the Na’vi do, but you’re special, you’re his, and Eywa has blessed your union and made it so even though it should not be possible. Maybe you just don’t know how to handle it. It’s okay, he can be the patient and supportive mate you need.

But the coldness and hostility doesn’t stop, the days go by and the passage of time doesn’t make you calm down. You don’t throw your arms around him like he wants you to, don’t say those three words he longs to hear fall from your lips said with all the love and trust that you have in your little tawtute body. 

Instead, there’s almost anger, a sudden indifference that he can’t seem to place. Had he done something wrong? He doesn’t think so. So, he tries to do the best he can, be the best mate he can be for you during your obvious time of struggle. He’s always there for you, will always be there for you, providing support and bringing you fresh meat, dicing up your favorite fruits and making you pretty jewelry that he knows will look so beautiful on you if you ever just wear it. 

You don’t. You toss the jewelry to the side like it's nothing, you let the food rot exactly where he’s left it.  

You’re not a Na’vi, you don’t understand the implication of your crassness towards his gifts. You don’t see how your refusals break his heart. It’s okay - you’ll learn. Humans are . . . unusual creatures. It will just take a bit more time for you to warm up to the ways of The People.

But his optimism stings with each slight, each indifference you show towards him. Great Mother, you’re so mean to him. Always trying to run from him when he grabs at you, ripping your hand away from his whenever he tries to hold it. You’ve been hiding from him, your trips into the village getting less and less frequent and you don’t let him in when he tries to come to the lab to visit you. 

“You don’t even like being here,” You say when he tries. And you’re right. The stuffiness of the lab makes him tense, and it feels like he can sometimes feel the energy from the machines pressing up against his body. But when he’s with you he doesn’t care. You’re the only thing that matters to him, and when he’s with you, it’s like everything else just falls away. 

The sting from your smack is still on his hand, but he shakes it off as he reaches out to caress your arm instead. “Ma yawne, are you hungry? You should come to my hut. I’ll cook you a fi–”

“No,” You interrupt, shrugging him off of your arm. “I’m not hungry.”

“Oh,” He breathes, disappointment burrowing in his chest but he tries not to let it show even as his fingers reach out to graze against your wrist. “Well then maybe we can go on a walk? There’s a lake not too far from here that I’ve been wanting to show you. It’s beautiful.” Beautiful like you. “I know you’ll love it.”

“No, Neteyam,” You say again, pulling your wrist from his wandering fingers and crossing your arms across your chest. “I’m busy.”

“What are you doing? Maybe I could–”

“No,”

The clipped word rings in his ears. No, no, no, always no. He’s your mate, you shouldn’t have to tell him no. Where you go, he goes. Where he goes, you go. Together. Simple as that. And yet it’s still always no, no, no. You’re turning away from him without another word, walking away with strides he thinks are way too quick for a human, and he can’t help but wonder where you’re heading to in such a rush. 

“Okay,” He calls out, desperate for the conversation not to be over but knowing it will just upset you if he follows you. “I’ll come see you later, tìyawn. I swear it!”

You don’t even look back.

He hasn’t seen you in nearly a week and his patience is running thin. 

Your absence is killing him. 

Where are you? Why won’t you see him? He knows you have to be suffering too without him. Mated pairs aren’t meant to be without each other for so long and he feels like he’s been apart from you for an eternity. 

You stopped coming to the village. He’s been looking, desperately hoping that he’ll see you among the multitude of faces he sees every day. He wants to hear your voice so badly, wants to pull you into his arms and hold you there, safe and loved, while the warmth of your skin soaks into his. 

He wants to push you down again, cover you with his body as he presses you into his sleeping mat - your sleeping mat. Both of yours, together, the way it should be as he plows into your swollen cunt. His hut should be covered in your scent by now, not an inch of it left without your mark on it. 

It’s not, and his understanding for your trouble adjusting to the bond is quickly dissipating. 

He’s tried to come see you at the lab multiple times. A lot. Every day. The lab guys turn him away.

She’s busy. She’s sleeping. She’s too tired. She’s not feeling too well. 

If you're not feeling well, he should be in there to heal you. Give you comfort when you're at your weakest and motivation to get better. So he can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. If you’re tired, let him in so he can wrap his arms around you. His chest is sure to be a better pillow for you than any other one you would be laying on. He would be warm, chest moving with just the perfect amount of rise and fall to lull you into a restful sleep. Your beauty sleep - not that you need it. And if you’re busy . . . what’s the harm in him just being around you? He won’t bother you, but any time just existing in the same space as you is like a dream come true. 

He tries to be nice, tries to be a good person - these are his father’s friends, allies of the Omatikaya - and he’s never been one to act impulsively. But they are keeping you from him. You are his. His mate. 

By the looks on their faces, they know how lucky they are that they got away with only some vicious snarls and a pushed over lab desk. Keeping away someone’s mate should be punishable by death.

At least, that’s how Neteyam feels right about now.

He doesn’t like being angry, hates the disgusting feeling that he feels clawing relentlessly at his chest. But he’s frustrated and heartbroken at your self inflicted absence and the warriors he’s training are his unfortunate victims. He pushes them hard, way harder than he probably should. Two of them have already had to go see the Tsahìk for their injuries and most of them look just about ready to drop from exertion. The anger he lets out on them doesn’t seem to quell any of the feelings still boiling inside him.

But then he sees you and it’s like time stops. The anger and frustration flee his body in a rush of relief. You’re here. 

You’re hiding behind a tree just along the edge of the clearing. Why are you hiding? Maybe you’re trying to surprise him, stay out of sight until he’s done training so as to not distract him with your beauty. You would have. You’ve told him plenty of times that he has a staring problem. But he can’t help it. You’re just so breathtaking that he can’t help but want to stare at you all the time. You’re what he imagines Eywa incarnate to look like - a beauty so alluring and otherworldly that he just can’t bear to tear his eyes away. 

The training session is just about done. He releases a majority of the warriors for the day and there’s only a few stragglers that need a few minutes of one-on-one training before he can send them on their way too. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying to them, letting muscle memory and repetition help him drag these last few minutes along as quickly as possible before he’s able to run over to you. He’s already decided that he’s going to take you out tonight. A date night, just like his father and mother have. It’s a time where you both can get away from the hustle and bustle of village and lab life and just be with each other. You clearly need it and he’s so desperate to spend time with you that he’s just about ready to kidnap you from your duties just so he can get a moment of peace just to stare at your gorgeous, unmasked face more. 

Maybe do some other stuff too. Hopefully. 

His heart hasn’t been the only needy thing of his without you. 

The last warrior he’s with is really pushing his luck. How hard is it to switch a knife from a bladed upward position to a downward facing position with just one hand? It’s a simple wrist movement to perfect a move that might save your life one day and this skxawng keeps. dropping. the. knife. Neteyam’s seemingly endless patience is gone. He dismisses the warrior, words much too harsh to be considered professional but he doesn’t care. His mate is waiting for him and he doesn’t want to waste any more time. 

He turns back to head to where you are, a giddy smile pulling at his lips, mood immediately flipping at the thought of finally seeing you, talking to you, holding you. 

Except when he does it’s like he’s being doused with freezing water. 

Another one of his warrior trainees, Oäpon, is standing in front of you and Neteyam can see how he’s purposefully bulging his muscles a little more to make them seem bigger - an action male Na’vi do when trying to attract a mate. Neteyam wants to rip those muscles out of his worthless body. He should be disgusted with himself with how fast his hand twitches towards the knife on his hip, ready to give no thoughts and just act on his emotions. He’s not impulsive, he’s not. But for once in his life he feels like he might actually kill one of his own clan members. 

Would the Great Mother desert him if he did?

But you catch his attention again, the movement of your small step closer to the other man dragging his furious gaze back to you. Your gorgeous eyes aren’t on Neteyam like they should be, but instead on Oäpon in return. You’re smiling at him, grinning so wide that surely it's fake because you’ve never smiled at him like that before. Oäpon lifts his hand and there’s a deep purple flower between his fingers. The flower finds its way behind your ear and all Neteyam sees is red. 

He’s across the clearing in a second, roaring snarls ripping from his chest as he tears the flower from behind your ear. He can hear Oäpon start to talk, to question what the fuck he’s doing, but the other man’s words are cut off with a pained gasp as he’s kicked to the ground and then he’s shock silent, fear written all over his face as he stares in horror at his kuru and the knife held in Neteyam’s inescapable grip. 

“Don’t! Please, don’t,” Oäpon begs, voice shaking as he struggles to force the words out. “Great Mother, help! Please, don’t!”

“Neteyam, stop!” You yell, tiny fists beating at Netayam’s back, but he barely even feels them. 

“She is mine!” Neteyam growls. “Mine. My mate. You do not touch her!”

“I didn’t know,” Oäpon whimpers. “I didn’t know. Please! I swear!”

He wants to do it, wants to slice through the braid so badly. He doesn’t deserve to have it. Kurus are sacred, the ability to connect to Eywa and her creatures is sacred. Attempting to defile the bond between a mated pair is nearly unheard of. Your screams for him to stop are just making the desire worse. You’re protecting him?! Protecting the thing that was trying to . . . no. No, no, no. He deserves to have it cut off, deserves to die.

Oäpon should kiss his feet in thanks for the mercy Neteyam shows by releasing him. 

“I don’t ever want to see you near her again,” Neteyam shouts. Oäpon doesn’t respond, too busy scrambling away and darting across the clearing, but Neteyam knows he’s heard him. 

“You’re a monster!” You scream, another fist coming down to hit at his back. “How could you do that to him?”

Your hits don’t stop and even through his rage he’s trying to be gentle with you. He catches your flying fists in one of his hands, holding them tight as he crouches in front of you trying to get on your level.

“Ma yawne, did he hurt you?” 

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him in disbelief. “Did he hurt me? Are you kidding me?"

Neteyam’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You fucking–” You screech, Neteyam’s ears pinning against his skull from the high pitched, angry sound. “You–you–I–ARGH!”

You're so frustrated, so upset you can’t even speak properly. Maybe you are hurt - Neteyam’s eyes scan your body for injury, eyes lingering on the area around your ear where the flower had been. The flower now lays forgotten at your feet, crushed and ruined from his angry grip, and Neteyam can’t find any source of injury that might be causing your upset.

“You don’t have to worry,” Neteyam says, cupping your cheek with his free hand. “He won’t bother you anymore, I swear it.”

You jerk away from his touch. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Nothing is wrong?”

“No,” You shake your head, wrists still trying to twist out of his grip. “No, there’s something wrong with you. Something is seriously wrong with you,”

“You are upset, tìyawn. Tell me what I can–”

“Don’t call me that!” You scream, nose scrunching with the effort. “Stop calling me that!”

“Oh,” Neteyam’s swishing tail droops in disappointment. “I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t know you didn’t like the name. I only meant to use it to show my love for you as my mate but I can–”

“We aren’t mates, Neteyam!” The words stab like a knife through his heart and his hand loosens around your wrists in shock enough for you to pull them out of his grasp. “We fucked once. A hookup, Neteyam. Sex, that’s it.”

“No,” He whispers. 

Why are you saying this? How could you say this? He was there! He remembers that night more clearly than any other day of his life. You love him. He feels it, feels it with every fiber of his being. You let him into your body, wrapped him tight inside you like a promise that you would never let him go - like he would never have to be alone ever again. You caressed his bullet scar, and he remembers the feel of your gentle fingers silently mourning for it and for all he’s had to suffer. He remembers thinking that being there with you in that moment was worth every other hardship he has to endure. He can take on anything with you at his side. 

“No,” He says again, disbelief coloring his tone. “How can you say that? We are mates! You’re mine!”

“No, we aren’t,”

“We are! I love you, y/n! Oel ngati kam–”

“We are not mated, Neteyam! We fucked. Mindless, hot, means-to-an-end-to-get-off sex. That’s it! Get that through your thick skull,”

He’s watching you as if in slow motion. You turn, stomping away from him as you start to head back into the forest and his brain feels like it’s going a million miles an hour. You’re mates. You are. You have to be - there’s no other way to explain the way he feels about you. The love and utter devotion he has for you. The need to be near you always - looking in your eyes, touching your skin, hearing your voice and the way you’ve always sounded so sweet saying his name. Eywa has blessed your union and he doesn't understand why you don’t feel the same way. Can’t you feel the same inescapable pull that he does? How your soul is tied to his in a way that surpasses even that of tsaheylu?

He reaches out to grab you before you get too far, fingers wrapping around your upper arm. Your own arm flies out around you and the sharp sound echoes through the forest and his sensitive ears before the pain registers on his cheek. 

He’s never seen your eyes so wide before, crazed and panicked as you stare back into his equally shocked amber ones. Your hand is shaking, still raised in the follow through of the slap. The force of your smack is still heating up his cheek, and if he can feel it as much as he is now, he’s sure your hand is probably tingling. 

Any other time he would check you for injuries. You’re so much more fragile than him - you could really hurt yourself if you’re not careful. But you just hit him. Your mate. The man that loves you more than anything. He’s frozen, body cold and not knowing how to react. 

Don’t call me that.

Anger floods through him again. This was Oäpon’s fault. He tricked you, seduced you somehow - out from right under Neteyam’s nose. He should have killed him. 

We are not mated.

You rip your arm out of his grip, wide eyes locked on him as he straightens his body, unfurling out of his crouched position as he rises to his full height. The shadow his body creates over you sends something primal through him. The darkened image of him completely overtaking your tiny figure makes him hungry. Possessive. 

Just sex, Neteyam. That’s it.

He won’t let that worthless skxawng corrupt you anymore. You’re the love of his life, his tanhì. You’re just confused. You’re not thinking clearly. 

You don’t mean it. 

He feels like if he concentrates hard enough, he can hear the sound of your heart racing. Or maybe it's his own, the frantic thump thump thump thump thump of his heart pumping rushing blood into his ears and making him feel like there’s static in his brain. 

When you turn to run, he’s not even shocked. His pupils dilate until there’s barely any color left, predatory gaze marked onto your back as you sprint into the dense Pandoran forest. Everything is so clear to him now. You’re testing him, wanting to see how loyal he is and how far he’ll go to keep you. You’re a beautiful woman, of course you’d have options. But you chose him for a reason, and now you want him to chase you - to prove himself a strong and worthy mate.

You want to play hard to get? Fine. He’ll play. 

He’s a natural hunter, an apex predator - and you, tiny human, have just become his prey. 

It might be fun to hunt you again - sometime in the future when this is all behind you. He’d be sure to make it as fair for you as possible: give you a head start, maybe allow you to rub some mud on your skin to hide your scent just to drag out the game a little longer, give you ample time and resources to find a good hiding spot where you can sit and try to listen with your not that great human hearing for any sign that he’s creeping up on your position. He’d wrap his arms around your waist when he inevitably finds you, smug grin tugging at his lips when your giggled shrieks pierce his eardrums as he pulls you from your oh so clever hiding spot. And then, he’d claim his prize, tearing your clothes from your body right there wherever he found you and fucking you until your giggly shrieking turns into blissful moaning. 

This isn’t fun. It’s not a game. And your headstart is dwindling rapidly. You’re racing through the forest, running as fast as your feet will carry you. He can hear your heavy breaths, the sound of the ground crunching under your clumsy feet. He can smell you, the scent you’re leaving behind in your rush is a direct trail back to you for him to follow. 

He doesn’t need it. He never lost sight of you. 

One of his strides equal close to four of yours, and he covers ground quickly as he closes in on you. He catches you only a little further into the forest than where the chase started and you scream as he tackles you to the ground, the force of his momentum completely knocking you both off your feet. He doesn’t let you touch the ground on the fall, twisting his body enough to take the brunt of the impact. The action still leaves you breathless, dazed for a moment before seeming to come back to yourself and struggling to get off from on top of him.

His hold around your waist is secure and he uses the anchor he has around your waist to throw you on to the ground beside him before climbing on top of you and pinning both of your hands above your head with one of his. 

“Get off me!” You scream, body struggling underneath him, hands pulling in his unrelenting grip as you try to get free, but you can barely move under his weight. “Get off me, Neteyam! Get off, get off, get o–”

His free hand latches around your throat, your words dying on your tongue as his fingers dig into the sides of your neck. 

“Quiet!” He hisses, baring his fangs. “Be quiet!”

The aggressive display makes a small whimper rip from your throat and he can feel the vibrations tickle under his palm. You’re not quiet though, you never stay quiet - ever the talker that you are. You’d talk his ear off if you could. The only time you’ve ever stayed quiet is when you avoided him, and he refuses to let that happen again. 

“Neteyam, please,” You whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re scaring me. Let’s just relax and talk about thi–”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” He growls. “You’ve said enough already, don’t you think?”

He releases your hands, grip on your throat loosening and moving down slightly until it's just a singular hand pressed against your chest to keep you pinned. Your hands immediately latch onto the large hand, one of your own clutching the back while the other curls around one of his long fingers. He feels how you pull at it, trying to get it off of you - and he knows how much harder you could be trying right now if you wanted to. 

He lowers his face to yours, inches away so that his breath fans across your skin as he speaks. “You like to talk, but you don’t like words. You’ve made that clear. My words mean nothing to you.” He can feel how your quick breathing puffs against his face too, the warm air caressing his cheeks. “You need actions - a visual representation of my devotion to you. I see that now.”

In a flash, his hands are balling into her t-shirt, pulling roughly in either direction and the thin material gives easily under the pressure. You gasp as he rips your shirt down the middle, the torn fabric falling on either side of your body as he does the same with your bra with a quick snap of his wrist. 

“What are you doing?!” You shout, but you can’t fool him now. He’s grown tired of your games and your body can’t lie to him. 

“Don’t worry, yawne. I’ll give you what you need,”

The sound of ripping material echoes through the otherwise peaceful forest. Your shorts require just a bit more force to tear, but it’s barely a percentage of his full strength so the fabric comes apart at the seams easily leaving the ruined bottoms still around your waist and thighs, but a large opening right at your center. A rumble of satisfaction builds in his chest when he smells you, the first scent of your arousal permeating the air around you. You gasp when he rips your panties too, leaving nothing left of the light blue material but the thin elastic around your limbs and hips. 

His mouth waters at the sight of your pretty pussy, bare and tempting and already getting so wet for him. 

“Fuck,” You whimper, arms splayed out beside you, fingers gripping into the moss covered ground. 

“You like it when I’m rough, huh?” Neteyam teases. “When I’m demanding and just take what I want from you?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the way he can see your pussy’s responding clench is damning to your denial. 

“I remember now,” Neteyam’s hand slides down your thigh and caresses your calf, long fingers wrapping around your leg as he presses a nipping kiss to your ankle just above your sock. “You loved how I shoved you down on the ground that night. It made you gush in your pretty little tewng, didn’t it?”

“S-shut up,”

“Hm, my muntxate likes being handled roughly, doesn’t she?”

Your response is a shocked squeal when he snatches your hips, hauling you up off the forest floor, the quick snapping of moss ripping from the ground as you’re abruptly pulled upwards. Your entire world is turned upside down as Neteyam dangles you like prey in front of him. He throws your legs over his shoulders and wraps a secure arm around your stomach to hold your lower back to his chest. The other hand holds onto your thigh to make sure to keep you spread before him as if you had any chance to wiggle away. 

A choked sob rips from your throat as your hands reach for the ground, blood rushing to your head as your fingers stretch as far as they can trying to get leverage and hold yourself up. Your fingertips only just barely graze the soft green. 

Neteyam groans as he enjoys the sight right in front of his face. You’re spread open for him, pussy perfectly framed by the destroyed fabric - dripping and glistening in want against the dimming sunlight despite yourself. He can see how you subconsciously contract and clench it, hole practically begging him to fill it with his tongue. He wants to bury his face in it, suffocate on your smell and taste until it’s all he can think about. 

So he does. 

He digs his face between your legs, tongue lapping at your folds like a man starved. He is. He didn’t get to do this your first time. It was too fast, too desperate. He couldn’t control himself with you. Everything about you calls to him like a siren, luring him in with your beauty and light. You dragged him down on top of you that night. You were already open, you told him - had fucked yourself with that fake cock he had found hidden in your drawers during an impromptu hangout in your bedroom at the lab. You still felt suffocatingly tight when he pushed in, but he had been grateful that he didn’t have to wait.

He had waited so long for the chance to be inside you that he felt like if he had waited another second without you he would have exploded. 

Your back arches as he licks up your slit, moaning loudly as his textured tongue slides across your clit. 

“Oh my god,” You gasp out, hands forgoing reaching for the ground and finding purchase on his thighs instead. “Neteyam, f-fuck,”

He hums in response, his tongue targeting the sensitive bundle of nerves, sliding and flicking relentlessly against the small bud as your moans and gasps get louder and louder. Your sounds are driving him crazy, the taste of you on his tongue setting every one of his nerves on fire. His cock is already hard, already working its way past his wet slit and tenting in his tewng. You taste so good, so perfect for him. He wonders what it feels like for you, how good it must feel for you to be writhing in his grip now, so vocal for him in your pleasure that your voice is already starting to sound a bit raspy from use. He bets his tongue feels better than any other man you’ve ever tried, the texture of it foreign and unique and unlike anything else you’ve ever had before. 

It will be the same way for him too, he’s sure. He’s dreamed about it, fantasized and jerked off to the thought of your tongue, soft and silky, running up and down his cock. You’d torture him with it, be teasing and delicate in your licks, alternating between those featherlight, barely there teases against his lavender tip and firmer strokes down the base of his cock. 

Your nails are digging into the meat of his thighs as he wraps his lips around your clit, panting breaths telling him yes, right there, Teyam, fuck, fuck, yes as your hips try to hump against his face. You’re right there, right on the edge, ready to fall over it with just a little bit more.

But he stops, reveling in your frustrated groan as he pulls his mouth away from your soaked core. His intense golden eyes meet yours when your head forces its way up, raspy voice whining a desperate ‘why’ as you feel your orgasm slipping away from you. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” He demands. He needs to hear you say it. 

“Teyam…” 

He can’t bear to hear you deny him again. Can’t handle hearing you say the words that make him feel like his heart has been dunked in acid.

His lips latch onto your clit again, sucking harshly at the tiny bud and your words cut off with a gasp. He works you back up, your head falling back as he nips at your clit with his sharp teeth before licking down your slit to circle your entrance. You’re so tight, so so so tight around his tongue as he pushes it in. You clench around the wet muscle and then somehow clench even tighter when the hand gripping your thigh reaches over to rub firm circles on your clit.

“Teyam, oh god, Neteyam, please!” You beg, thighs squeezing his head as they try to force themselves closed. “I’m gonna cum. Please,”

You wail as he pulls his mouth away again, your hole clenching around nothing as your orgasm dissipates again. 

“Say it,” He feels your whole body shiver as his words breathe hot air on your sensitive cunt. “You’re mine. Say it, y/n,”

You sob, frustration evident in every sound and twitch your body makes. You’re trying to lift your head again, looking up at him from your spot dangling below him like a puppet, and he wonders if all the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is getting to you. 

“Say it,” He repeats and then digs back in, the flat of his tongue roughly swiping over your clit before latching onto it again.

Your legs kick as he works you up again, overstimulated pussy throbbing as he plays you like an instrument he’s known for years. His cock is throbbing too, desperate to be released from the confines of his tewng and shown some attention. He wants so badly to push inside your soaking hole and feel how it’ll grip his cock within its slick walls. 

“Neteyam, please!” You cry, and he knows you’re so close, right there again as he hurdles you back towards that just out of reach edge. He doesn’t stop the suction of his mouth. You’ll say it, he knows you will. You’ll say it because if you don’t, you won’t get to cum. He’ll keep you here, upside down in his unrelenting hold until you pass out from exhaustion before he’s going to let you go without saying it. 

You’re a stubborn brat. He can see as he looks down your hanging body that you’re biting your lip. You want to say it - you’re just being stubborn. He sucks harder on the swollen bud, free hand smacking your hip and your asscheek just hard enough to make you cry and gush further on his tongue, the remaining remnants of your clothes doing very little to muffle the sting. 

“Okay!” You yell. “Okay, okay, Neteyam! I’ll say it! I’m yours! Please, please let me cum!”

The words make Neteyam’s chest tighten. Finally. Finally, you’ve admitted it, and the excitement from the admission urges him to lick you faster. He’s sloppy and greedy as he eats you out, overeager and face wet to the point of dripping as he devours you for all you have. You cum on his tongue with a choked scream, hands reaching up to grab desperately at his arm encircling your waist, nails digging into the cerulean flesh as your back arches and your thighs clench tightly around his head. 

He swallows everything you offer him, lapping up your juices like his favorite most treasured treat, before placing a protective hand on your back to steady you as he lowers you back down to safety.

“Mawey, yawne,” Neteyam coos, gently brushing away a few rogue pieces of moss stuck to your sweaty forehead. You’re still panting, exhaustion creeping over you as your eyes glaze over and threaten to close. The oxygen tube had unhooked from around your ear at some point during your experience upside down. Neteyam guides it back around your ear with careful fingers. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Keep being a good girl while I fuck you, yes?”

Your eyes widen at the mention of fucking, shaking your head slightly even as the full bodied shivers of the orgasm’s aftershocks continue to wrack your body. “N-no, Teyam. C-can’t take i-it.”

Neteyam smiles, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss against your lips. The feel of your lips on his is almost enough to make him cum. He’s so worked up already, so high off the taste of your cunt on his tongue that all it takes is the loving press of your lips on his and he’s a second away from exploding in his tewng and ruining the fun. 

“Yes, you can,” He says against your lips, his sharp teeth digging into your plush bottom lip just to hear you whine. 

Last time he fucked you, he took you from the front. It was love making, a bonding of two souls coming together as one - a spiritual experience filled with panting breaths, eye contact, and the passionate coupling that comes with mating with the one your heart belongs to. 

You don’t deserve that right now, not with the way you’ve hurt him - made him work for the love that should have been given freely. The things you said can’t just be forgotten. You need him to prove his worthiness to you? Prove his loyalty? Then fine, he’ll do that by giving you exactly what you deserve.

You yelp when he flips you over on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips and hauling them up so your ass is in the air and on display for him. The remaining fabric of your shorts still cover nearly half of your ass, but the little coverage does nothing to diminish the amazing view. You try to push yourself up with your arms, but Neteyam is quick to shove you back down with a hand on the back of your neck. 

“No, no, tìyawn,” He says, running a large hand over your exposed ass, his fingers teasing along the creamy slit of your pussy. “You said you’re mine, so let me see what’s mine.”

His teasing fingers find your hole and his teeth dig into his lower lip when he sees your thigh start trembling as he circles your entrance with the pad of his finger. You like it rough, he has to remind himself. You’re a human, so delicate compared to him that he naturally wants to be gentle with you. But that got him nowhere, it got him ignored. You respond to roughness, passion, him taking charge - so he doesn’t give you any warning before he’s plunging two long fingers inside you all the way to the knuckle.

You scream, slick walls squeezing around his fingers, your own hands once again ripping at the moss below you. The scream is agonized, oversensitive and pained from your earlier edging and orgasm. Your thighs are shaking, desperate sobs erupting from your throat. But the way you’re pushing back against him, rocking back against his invading fingers trying to get them deeper inside you tell him everything he needs to know. 

“Look at you,” He coos. His fingers start up a steady rhythm, thrusting inside you with purpose as he stretches you open. “Such a little whore for me, aren’t you?”

Your moans are muffled against the ground, cheek pressed firmly against the moss from his hand pinning you down by his neck. You ignore his question, too lost in trying to push back against his hand and make him fuck you faster - so he rips his fingers from your gripping cunt, drops of your wetness flying from the force of his retreat, and his large hand lands harshly on your backside. 

You howl at the smack, the sound of the slap against direct skin this time cracks through the forest like a gunshot. 

“I asked if you’re my whore,” Neteyam repeats. It’s not as romantic as ‘I’m yours’, but still just as important. 

“Yes, Teyam,” You whine. “I’m your whore.”

“Just for me, right? Only my whore,” Silence again, but your hips are still wiggling and searching for his fingers, so he rewards your silence with another sharp smack. “Say it, yawne,”

“Fuck!” You cry, ass feeling like it's on fire even as more of your slick drips down your thighs. “Yes, yes! Only for you, Teyam. Only for you,”

“Good girl,” Neteyam purrs, and you’re rewarded this time with his fingers sliding back inside your aching pussy. 

He stretches you out on those two fingers, alternating between scissoring them inside you and curling them to rub at that special spongy spot that makes you squeal and see stars. He contemplates adding a third, but decides that he wants to finish stretching you out on his cock instead. 

This time when you cum, it's less of a scream and more of a deep guttural groan that comes from deep inside you. It’s wetter than he expects it to be when you squeeze around his fingers, and the sight of your slick dripping from your mound onto the forest floor beneath you makes him feel absolutely feral. 

He lets go of the back of your neck and pulls his fingers from your abused cunt. The wet fingers work frantically at the knots on his tewng and he feels like he can’t get the fucking thing off fast enough. When the knots come undone and the tan material flutters to the ground, he breathes a sigh of relief, thick needy cock springing from its confines to slap against his belly. 

When he focuses back on you, your exhausted body is already trying to curl in a ball, eyes threatening to close as sleep calls to you. No, Neteyam thinks. He’s not done with you yet.

He flips you back on your stomach, pulling your hips back up high so they’re flush with his. You both groan as he rubs his hard cock between your folds, the tip nudging at your swollen clit. Fuck, you feel so good, pussy feeling like silk against his aching length. His eyes are locked onto where he’s lining his head with your entrance, watching in awe as he nudges himself forward, your greedy hole welcoming him in like you’ve been doing this forever. He can’t control his sounds, grunts and moans of pleasure echoing loudly through the trees as he sinks himself inside your slick walls. You’re so tight, even with the amount he’s stretched you out already you’re still so tight. But you stretch around him like you were made for him, made to take his cock into your depths - like your insides already know the exact shape of him and welcome him back into their warm embrace.

You whimper as he fills you up, back arching and hands clawing at the ground like you’re both trying to get away from him and closer to him at the same time. 

“I fucked you so good, didn’t I?” He gunts, pulling halfway out of your gripping pussy before slamming back in, relishing in the tortured moan it pulls from you. “That night by the fire. Made you cum so many times, over and over again until you were so cock drunk you couldn’t speak.”

He pulls out again, just a little further this time before thrusting back in. He does it again, and again, the rhythm hard and unforgiving and he pulls your hips closer to his. In the back of his mind he fears that he’s being too mean, too rough, but your gasping hiccups and blissed out sighs contain any worry. This is as much for him as it is for you anyway. He’s allowed to be selfish. 

“You’re always so talkative,” He pants. “Where’s that pretty voice now, huh? You were so talkative that night, just endless pleas of my name falling from your gorgeous lips. Like music to my ears. I wanna hear it again. Please, yawne?”

“Mmh, please,” You whine. “Please, Teyam,”

“Please what?”

“Faster,” You beg. “Fuck me faster,”

Who is he to deny such a sweet and pretty thing?

He leans forward, body curling over yours to cover you completely, one of his hands grabbing yours and linking your fingers together as he presses them both against the ground. His other hand is still on your hip, using it as leverage as he fucks your puffy pussy faster, the tip of his cock barreling against your cervix with each snap of his hips. 

He can feel the knot on the base of his cock swelling, the large ball of tissue nudging at your entrance with each thrust. The instinct driven part of him urges him to push harder against you, to force the knot against your tight hole to see if it will fit. 

He didn’t knot you that night, not wanting to risk hurting you or getting you pregnant so fast with such a new relationship. He came inside you with his fist wrapped tightly around his knot instead. Na’vi bonds are forever. Human bonds . . . now he’s not so sure. He’s not willing to risk it anymore. He’s going to bond with you in every way he knows how. 

When he feels his orgasm creep up his spine, he lets instinct take over. His grip on your hip tightens, thrusts halting as he presses the enlarged ball against your soaked entrance. 

You gasp, whimpering as his knot stretches you more. “Oh god, wait, wait,”

But it's too late. With another determined shove, the knot pops inside you and he has you trapped, locked on his cock until time decides to free you. 

“Neteyam, i-it’s too b-big,” You whine, shock evident in your voice. “Hmh, so full,”

Neteyam plants soothing kisses on the back of your head and neck, the hand on your hip smoothing around your belly to caress the large bulge of the outline of his cock in your stomach. “I know, tìyawn. I know. It’s so much, but you’re doing so well. Just a little more for me, okay?”

He can’t thrust now, can't even so much as pull out an inch now that he’s locked inside you. So, he makes you do the work. He keeps one hand on the bulge in your tummy, the other hand coming down to rub relentlessly at your throbbing clit. The stimulation makes you keen, pussy clenching and tightening around him and working his aching length with your wet walls. 

His fingers on your clit are your undoing. He barely hears any noise from you as your orgasm hits, but this time he’s able to see the side of your face as you come undone. Your eyes roll back into your head, mouth opening in a silent scream, but it's like all the breath has been stolen from your lungs. Your body tenses, muscles shaking through the overwhelming pleasure, and he feels as much as he hears how you gush and squirt all over his teasing digits and the ground below you. 

He moans at the sight, the feel of your pussy clenching around his length and the wetness from your orgasm on his fingers and cock makes him tip over the edge. His orgasm crashes through him, tearing him apart as he spills himself inside you. His cum paints your walls, and his knot makes sure to keep every single drop of it inside you. 

Neteyam collapses next to you, shaking as the aftershocks roll through him, and pulls your limp body safely against his. It will be at least an hour before the knot’s swelling goes down enough before he’s able to slip out. You let out a moan of pain as the knot pulls at your entrance as he adjusts you, but he sushes you.

“Relax, ma yawne. I’ll take care of you.” He coos. “Oel ngati kameie,”

You don’t say it back. You don’t even hear him, already dead to the world as your exhaustion finally catches up with you. 

It’s okay. He knows in his heart that one day soon, you’ll say it back.

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @minnory @localjasmine @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @vampirefilmlover @quicktosimp (cause you said you liked yanderes)

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[jesncin]

The Portrayal of Noah Ikumelo's Disability in Spurrier's Hellblazer and Dead in America run

Noah Ikumelo is a divisive new character introduced in Si Spurrier's 2019-2020 Hellblazer 12 issue solo (illustrated by Aaron Campbell and Matias Bergara, colors by Jordie Bellaire), he continues appearing as a recurring character in Hellblazer Dead In America (2024, 11 issues) Spurrier's long awaited continuation of his original run. Introduced in the very first issue as a Black, mute (hearing, but unable to orally speak) teenager who predominantly uses BSL to communicate.

We'll be discussing how Noah's disability was portrayed, how effective it was narratively, and thoroughly analyze the limits and ableist biases comics have as a visual language. Spoilers for Spurrier's Hellblazer and Dead In America run below. CW for ableism, racism, SA, police brutality, and general violence.

Disclaimer!! I am an able-bodied person with only occasional interactions with the Deaf community and am still studying ASL in my own time. All of these observations are made from an outsider perspective. I feel that starting a critical discussion from any source of knowledge for other more informed perspectives to follow up on is better than having no discussion at all.

However! I can offer some valuable perspective as a ~classically/formally trained~ comic artist- because we'll be discussing some inherit biases with how comic artists are trained to illustrate communication in this visual medium. I'll also be talking about lettering, which I'm nitpicky about so if I'm an expert on anything, it's those things.

I won't be going through each issue in as much detail as these first few issues for the sake of set up, but I will stop every now and then to discuss the portrayal of some scenes.

Let's start with Noah's very first appearance in Hellblazer 2019 #1. Noah is introduced as one of the very young members of a gang called the Ri-Boys. He's tasked with kidnapping a magic specialist to help get rid of murderous angelic spirits in their local park that are getting in the way of their prime location for selling drugs. He kidnaps John Constantine, who is quickly informed that Noah is mute.

Noah doesn't sign at all in this first issue, opting instead to communicate with a little notebook tied around his neck.

Despite K-Mag's (the gang leader) justification for recruiting teenagers as a "refuge" from a world that hates them, he's not afraid to treat Noah as disposable. He opts to send Noah's able-bodied friend (named Isa) on an errand instead of Noah because they "don't need no tongueless splesh backin' on ops-" and threatening Noah's life in order to get John to cooperate. So narratively the set up is clear: even though this gang is meant to provide jobs for the marginalized, it's still a bigoted organization that doesn't treat Noah well.

After accompanying John to the park where the angelic spirits murder another junkie, Noah is so traumatized by what he witnesses that he throws up on his notebook- rendering it unusable. Issue #2 starts with Noah raving in BSL (the image at the very top of this essay) to his gang mates that ignore him. When John asks if anyone knows sign language, he gets no response. It's clear that Noah is an outsider even among the Ri-Boys. Regardless, by the end of the issue in the following day, Noah is back to using his notebook (I guess he got a new one).

So. The notebook. I'll be honest I hate the notebook. It's such a clunky thing for Noah to carry around his neck, and it's clearly a set up so that Noah throws up on it and can't communicate to people who don't know sign.

On personal experience alone, I've been able to communicate with deaf people through texts on a shared phone. We'd just pull up notepad and write to each other to bridge the language barrier. And (as I've been informed by @scoliwings!) if phones running out of batteries is the worry, there's also pocket-sized boogie boards as a handy means of communication. At the very least Noah canonically has a phone (he is texting John in the panel above), and the Ri-boys can afford an ipad that K-Mag uses. These boogie board devices are much more affordable than either of those items and far better than a notebook.

Throughout Spurrier's treatment of Noah's disability, there will continue to be a sense of "we haven't even exhausted basic options to bridge a language barrier yet-" and this one is the first instance of that.

[this is not how the panels look in the comic, I chopped and arranged the last panel to save up on tumblr blog image space]

To keep this essay focused on Noah's disability, by issue #3 after some plot stuff progresses, John reveals to Noah that he actually can understand BSL. It turns out he knows "a bit" of BSL from a relationship he had with a deaf man in the 90s. Regardless, throughout Spurrier's whole run, John is shown to understand Noah's signing fluently. You might be wondering why John kept this a secret. Was he withholding his understanding of BSL so he could "eavesdrop" on something Noah signs to his friends without knowing? Nope. This reveal had no narrative purpose; John gained nothing from hiding this from everyone and it retroactively makes earlier scenes weirder. John just decides to reveal this to Noah for no other reason than to be a jerk I guess?

Once John fixes the "murderous angels in the park" problem, he also convinces K-Mag to let go of Noah from the Ri-Boys gang so that Noah can live a more honest life going to school (we will never see this) and uh. Being John's new personal driver. John used to have a friend, Chas, who drove him around everywhere but with Chas gone now- Noah is narratively set up to take his place.

Eagle-eyed readers might notice something odd about the way the scene where John reveals to Noah that he understands BSL is staged: if John supposedly understands what Noah is signing, why is he walking away, yet responding to what Noah is signing behind him? Yeah. This is one of the most annoying artistic blunders throughout all of Spurrier's Hellblazer runs with Noah. Despite Noah being mute, other characters still act like they can "hear" him.

Sign language isn't a language you can passively listen to. When someone is signing, that means you have to be looking at their hands and facial expression in order to understand what they're communicating to you. A casual irl example- in art school us hearing students could draw in our sketchbooks as the teacher lectured. A deaf student we had that year had to clarify that was not something they were able to do. As whenever the lecturer spoke- that meant that student would have to look up to their interpreter translating the lecture. So they weren't able to catch up with the classwork the way us hearing students could.

You'll notice in the panels above, John is preoccupied and talking to someone on his phone. Yet he's "hearing" what Noah is signing to him. John self identifies as someone who knows "a bit" of BSL- meaning he's not fluent. But this doesn't go anywhere since John's functionally fluent throughout both runs. It's like having a character say they know "a bit" of French only to show them being fluent through the whole story. Why bother mentioning a language barrier if it wasn't going to matter?

In these panels, Noah is signing while facing to the side- as in he's not facing John directly as he's signing, which obscures his signs from being clearly read. This wouldn't be a problem for folks who are way more fluent with any sign language (they can recognize signs at many angles), but for newbies you'll usually have people signing with their torso directly facing the other person to be as clear as possible. And they'll sign a lot slower. Little nuances like that make it clear that no one on the Hellblazer creative team have conversed with deaf people before- but why would something so obvious not be considered in the artistic direction of this run?

Let's quickly go over comics visual storytelling and how comic artists are trained to tackle staging a "talking heads" scene. Scenes like this are when characters are having a long conversation, visually giving the scene a "samey" vibe. Our job as comic artists is to keep the visuals interesting, so there are a ton of tricks we're taught to vary up how a conversation looks. We'll have a character hold a prop, walk around, look away to something else, have characters multi-task as they talk (bonus if it's thematic to the conversation), basically outside of zooming in and out it's good to keep a character busy to give the scene visual variety. Anything to break out of that silhouette of two characters directly facing each other.

[these are not how the panels are presented in the comic, I spliced these panels from 2 different issues to save up space]

Therein lies the problem: these tricks rely on an able-bodied standard of communication in order to function. Having a character like Noah communicate in sign, relies on the character he's signing towards to be paying full attention. Tackling "talking heads" as a comic artist explains but doesn't excuse these horrendous instances where poor staging of the characters ends up accidentally implying Noah "has a voice" because the able-bodied characters sure seem to be able to "hear" him even though they're facing all sorts of directions. Again, this just means the artist and writer have to rise to the challenge of keeping the scenes visually interesting while being inclusive to the disabled character the writer introduced into this world.

While we're talking about comics, I'm just going to go ahead and say I'm not a fan of the letterer's choices to visualize Noah's dialogue. To differentiate from the other characters, Noah's speechbubble is more like a caption box- it's square and light green. Instead of a tail pointing out of it to indicate who is talking like a traditional speechbubble would, instead Noah's dialogue box has a long arrow coming out of it. The arrow pointing out is just so corny. It says: "look! here's where the words are coming from! His hands!! Whoaaa".

Moreover, the arrows ruin the visual flow of the comic pages. We humans are hard wired to look at where an arrow is pointing. It's what that symbol is designed for. It's why all those clickbait youtube thumbnails have arrows pointing on them, it steals your attention. The best kind of speechbubbles are unobtrusive to the art, complementing it. Having it so that whenever Noah has dialogue we get these annoying arrows that stick out of the page composition just ruins it. Here's what it looks like edited on other characters' speechbubbles. It's a lettering eyesore.

I see no reason why Noah can't have a speechbubble tail like everyone else. I personally like making the speecbubble tail a lil-squiggly when I'm drawing a speechbubble for a character signing. Differentiating the speechbubble enough but not to the point it's obtrusive to the page flow.

Additionally, Noah has "translation brackets" around his dialogue- it's a block of dialogue that starts with the "less than" symbol and ends with the "greater than" symbol to indicate a sentence being translated from another language.

<So you'll have a character's dialogue look like this in the speech bubble.> *

accompanied by a translation box clarifying that the dialogue is; [*translated from French, for example] in the first instance we see the language featured in the comic. Of course this isn't the only way to portray language in comics, sometimes letterers will go for using colored text to differentiate languages. There's no standard look! Noah's dialogue never featured an initial caption box that discloses what language he's signing in. I'm going to charitably presume that it's a stylistic move away from that practice so that the reader is put in the same confused position as John is upon first meeting Noah.

I don't personally have an issue with the application of translation brackets to Noah's dialogue. Because even though Noah is communicating in a type of English language (British Sign Language), what we're seeing written in the dialogue of the comic isn't a direct translation of what he's signing. Unless it's Sign Exact English, sign language has different sentence structure, grammar and syntax from spoken English. So if Noah signs something like "#BUS RED YOU SEE WILL", then that translates to him saying "You will see a red bus." in written dialogue. It's a translation of his signing, even if it's still English.

I don't think there's an indisputably correct way to portray sign language in comics. Something like this will go down to personal stylistic choice of the artist. Maybe one artist decides they don't want to put brackets on ASL dialogue because they'd rather use that to differentiate English language from non-English language. There's an argument to be made either way! So long as you commit to your set of rules, I can at least try to engage with where an artistic choice is coming from even if I disagree with how it's done.

Unfortunately, that's not the case for Dead in America:

It's in the very last issue of the run, but well. You forgot the translation brackets there, guys. Sloppy work.

To wrap up Noah's arc in Hellblazer 2019, Noah is revealed to be John Constantine's son. John had a graveyard fling with Liza Ikumelo, a police woman (barf), thereby insulting a demonic spirit (and by extension, me, the reader). Many years later the spirit hunts down the woman, cursing her to an eternal sleep. Her child, Noah, was nearby and by proxy lost his voice from the incident. So it's John Constantine's fault that Noah's mute, and that Noah's mom is in a coma. Hellblazer 2019 ends with John feeling an immense guilt for forcing Noah to kill a friend, meaning they now have to flee the country. John doesn't tell Noah that Noah is his son.

So despite the poor portrayal of Noah's disability in this run, his character overall at this point was a really interesting addition to Hellblazer lore. He has a unique background of hardship; cursed by John's shenanigans at birth without even knowing it, and despite all of that he still has it in him to want to help and be kind. The reveal that he's John's son adds a layer of tragedy to everything- what does it mean to be another continuation of the Constantine family? Without even knowing it? There's plenty of angst on John's end of things, having unknowingly been an absent father for years. We get to see echoes between father and son in their actions. They're both from harsh backgrounds but humanitarians at heart, in different ways. It's very compelling stuff.

Years later, Dead In America is released as the long awaited continuation of this story. John, his friend Nat, and Noah are in America now, going on a long cross country road trip in a double decker London bus. Why? Just because. Noah and Nat take turns driving because John can't drive. In my opinion Dead In America is a bigger, more convoluted plot so I will stick to summarizing things that are relevant to Noah's disability.

This run has all the same problems as the 2019 Hellblazer run does with characters not being staged properly when Noah is signing to them, but it's the very first issue that reveals something particularly damning about how Spurrier views sign as a language.

As Noah is driving the bus he is instructed not to stop for anyone. But later that night he suddenly does. John berates Noah, only to be surprised that Noah is speaking (and sounding uncharacteristically posh)! John suddenly can't speak, instead he signs. This is how he realizes he's in a dream and regains his ability to speak. It's clear what's intended by the storytelling here. Seeing an able bodied person sign is part of the surrealism that makes this scene out of the ordinary. It's supposed to be odd that John is signing, because it's weird that Noah is the one speaking. Signing is a thing only disabled people do, not anyone else. This dream sequence is the only time a character other than Noah signs.

This single narrative choice has a drastic ripple effect on the rest of the run; it means that through both runs, no one ever signs back to Noah. According to the National Association of the Deaf, 72% of hearing parents with deaf kids don't learn sign language. This leads to deaf kids struggling culturally within their own families. Sign language expresses things that written or spoken languages can't. So having their own family not bother to learn sign is deeply isolating for deaf kids. By not having anyone but especially John sign to Noah, any narrative attempt to portray familial care and consideration between the two is undercut by this barrier. Sure John cares for his son in his own way, but not enough to converse with him in his own language.

This is when it became clear to me that Noah's use of BSL functions more as "a voice but #diverse" instead of portraying sign language as a culture and community of its own. It's like characters of color being written as white, where their identities are just a palette change. Only here, it's more of "this character is speaking, but with his hands this time" never mind how that drastically changes how a character navigates the world and how people interact with him. Attempts at writing Noah's disability in this run continue to be lackluster at best and insulting at worst.

Don't get me wrong, Noah is not a "whitewashed" character- his Blackness is integrated into the narrative of both Hellblazer 2019 and Dead In America... for better or for worse. By this I mean especially in Dead In America, Spurrier really likes to use Noah as a prop to show how racist America is. I don't think there's anything wrong with showing some uncomfortable scenes of Noah facing off American cops. In fact I like how this scene in the first issue shows the specific struggles a Black disabled person goes through, being double profiled as someone dangerous when Noah's attempts to communicate are misinterpreted as a threat- it sets the tone for how dangerous the country is for someone like him.

The original Hellblazer showed plenty of scenes where John is brutalized by the cops in both the UK and US, so gritty commentary is right at home with the character's stories. The difference here is there is almost a giddiness to inventing scenarios for Noah to experience profoundly racist situations at the expense of Noah's own characterization in this run. It becomes more obvious as we progress.

This is another nitpick but when John, Nat, and Noah meet up with Clarice Sackville (an elderly magician lady) in issue #2, Noah discreetly signs to John, calling Clarice a "wrinkled old hag" only for John to whisper back "Be grateful she can't sign, Noah." meaning "be glad she can't understand what you're saying". If there was any opportunity to use sign language as a means of discreetly communicating around someone who doesn't understand it, this would've been the moment. But alas, only disabled people use sign language, right guys. John can only sign in a weird dream sequence.

The punchline here is that Clarice actually understood what Noah was signing, making a jab at him for calling her a "wrinkled old hag". I don't know how she understood what Noah was signing when she was clearly facing away from him the whole time but well. That's basically a tradition for Spurrier's runs at this point. Technically John's dialogue isn't wrong here. Clarice "can't sign". She understands it, but doesn't sign. Because that's a thing only disabled people do.

Let's put a pin on issue #4 and skip ahead to Dead In America issue #5. This is essentially an anthology issue containing short stories of little incidents John, Nat, and Noah encounter on the American road. I will be discussing the second story, "One-Way Ticket" written by Aaron Campbell (ordinarily the main artist of Spurrier's runs) with art by guest artist John Pearson.

It's a story about a ghost guy who wants to go home but everyone ignores him (because they can't see him), John helps out by discovering his dead body and bringing the spirit comfort. It's a cute and cozy story if it weren't for the abysmal way Noah is treated in it, completely contradicting its themes. Noah is horrified at the prospect of John leaving him alone in the red bus, fearing the cops will show up. John responds "You're mute, just pretend you're dumb too." Even for asshole-John standards this is unnecessarily cruel. Dead In America started with Noah being profiled by the police, so Noah's fears are as founded as it gets. This short story may not be written by Spurrier, but it is written by the artist who DREW THAT SCENE.

I didn't splice the panels above, that is exactly how they are presented in the comic. Not only do we have characters facing away from Noah as he's signing again (a tradition even guest artists continue to perpetuate it seems), but it's followed up immediately with a ghost being grateful that John recognizes him. The irony that John gets told that after ditching his son. Why not make the story about Noah relating to the ghost? Remember that scene where Noah is signing to the Ri-Boys and they all ignore him? He and the ghost could connect over how they're ignored and treated as disposable, how accommodation for people like them is considered an inconvenience, how no one cares when their life is threatened.

When John returns from discovering the ghost's dead body, just like clockwork Noah is being searched by a cop. Only now it's treated like a joke instead- with Nat taking a smoke on the side and John just slapping a spell on the cop to make him stop.

This nonchalant carelessness for the portrayal of cops is a big departure from how ACAB John was in his original Hellblazer run. John was a man who could outsmart and kill the Vampire King only to be immediately beat up by cops afterwards. He's called homophobic slurs for defending the dead body of his sex worker guy friend. It paints this image of a guy who can overcome the supernatural but doesn't stand a chance against mundane human cruelty. Because that kind of thing takes more than a magic trick to defeat. But in Dead In America, cops are a mild inconvenience to John. He can just cast spells on them and move on. It's disappointing how even in a run that's supposed to be a return to form for Hellblazer, John isn't as radical as he was written in the 80s and 90s. The cops don't have the kind of threatening authority they had in the older comics. Don't worry, it gets worse.

Let's hop and skip ahead to Dead In America issue #9. For plot reasons, John went missing. He disappeared to Hell and back for four weeks, separated from Noah and Nat. When he reunites with his friends, they want nothing to do with him. They're now running their own little film studio, shooting a film that metatextually reflects their road trip adventure. Again, for plot reasons. They're teaming up with a metamancer to speed filmmaking along. Nat's the director and Noah's the producer. He's practicing magic, and even found himself a girlfriend, Liz! She's an Asian girl though and that worries me. Because Asian love interests are usually seen as narratively disposable. A racist character assumes Noah is using "mind magic on her" because there's no way Noah would end up with someone so "hot", right? Right.

[spliced panels from issue 9 and 10]

Issue #10 is when we get very much needed perspective from Noah and Nat's point of view. Nat always wanted to be a writer, while Noah longs for a life of normalcy. The two narrate their backstories, building their life up to meeting John, to where they are now with their film studio.

We learn how Noah got into using magic, and. Urgh. Sick of dealing with a language barrier as a disabled person, Noah uses magic to communicate with people. It's another case of "we haven't even exhausted basic options to bridge a language barrier yet-" I get it, throughout this run Noah doesn't have his notebook, and he doesn't appear to have his phone either (perhaps to hide from the authorities tracking them down) but to that I say pocket-sized boogie boards are still an affordable option that won't get you tracked down by the cops. I'd even prefer him buying another notebook over this. In this issue he's even seen with a phone, so what do I know.

"huh! I just remembered that I, an American, actually do know British Sign Language! Hah how could I forget something like that ho ho" it's just so trite. Like we're not even going to try and grab a paper and pen to communicate? We're skipping to using dark magic instead? Okay. Worst of all, so you're telling me the racist loser was right about Noah?? That Noah wouldn't have a chance with Liz if it weren't for magic? What are we doing...

I'm not including the panel here but after Noah narrates "I won't use this shit to coerce people-- I'm not him. But... making things easier? Simpler? Why not?" the following panel is of him and Liz getting funky style in bed. Even with Noah saying he won't "coerce people" he still says that magic can make things easier. Simpler. There is this uncomfortable implication that Noah "made it easier" for Liz to sleep with him. Sure it can be read that he got close to her through them communicating on the same page. But when their relationship isn't developed, narratively she just kind of exists as a prop for his desires. To quote Noah himself in Dead In America issue #4: "It was rape."

Time to revisit that pin. So issue #4 is about John and Noah masquerading as an exorcist and...an enslaved person to trick a small town into revealing a coverup: a girl was assaulted by six boys in their local football team, ending her own life from her story being pushed aside for the bright future of the football boys. Noah is so infuriated by how she was mistreated that he beats up one of the boys. It's a heavy story about how far a town will go to protect the future of boys while discarding the life of the girl, who to this day is anonymous. If you're wondering whether Noah pretending to be an enslaved person was necessary to the con, I can assure you it really wasn't.

What's frustrating here is that are we really supposed to believe that Noah, a character who was willing to risk his safety by beating up a rapist, would then go ahead and "make it easier" to sleep with a girl later? Remember. The reason he did that was because his disability was apparently holding him back. Are we really having it so the only person of color in John's cast for this story did this? That if he wasn't disabled, he wouldn't do this? It's frankly disgusting.

Through John's silver tongue trickery, he pulls shenanigans that cause Nat and Noah to get arrested. Despite Nat being known to be violent, Noah is the one who is brutalized by the cops and put into solitary confinement. Because racism. Spurrier really wants you to know that American cops are so racist, guys.

I wonder where all this energy was for his Hellblazer 2019 run taking place in the UK. Where the only cop characters were noble people of color who are looking out for each other. Noah's own mom was a cop, even. He'll show Noah looking tense in a car as cops walk by in Hellblazer 2019, but for Dead In America? Noah is profiled by police three times, made to play an enslaved person for John's ends, and is in the receiving end of so many bigoted characters' racism. Spurrier is selective about his portrayal of cops when it suits him.

At this point it's transparent looking back at the treatment of Noah's character throughout Dead In America, that there's a giddiness Spurrier (and technically Campbell) have in crafting racist scenarios for Noah to go through. But it's okay because they have John say a lamp-shading comment to assure readers that the writers recognize "This Is A Racist Thing Happening".

Reading Dead in America reminded me of the discourse surrounding "Strange Fruit" a comic by Mark Waid and J. G. Jones. I won't belabor explaining the plot, but what they have in common is this self congratulatory "giddiness to put Black characters in compromising situations" I keep describing. Like, they didn't have to create a naked Black Superhero named "Johnson" who doesn't speak and wears a confederate flag while dealing with racists in the Jim Crow era South but...these white writers just didn't have a choice! It's the rules of story! John has to pretend Noah is his property!

"Strange Fruit's desire to make big, albeit familiar statements about America's sinful past and do justice to both the subject matter and history often comes at the expense of considerate or even dimensional characterization."

-Vox writer Tre Johnson, 2017.

This is the kind of giddiness to indulge in fictional cruelty that isn't written with Black readers in mind. It's to entertain white readers with an exaggerated depiction of racism to make themselves feel better about being British. And if anyone's excuse is "well it's Hellblazer! Vertigo comics are supposed to talk about uncomfortable topics, John gets beat up by cops too back in the day", then need I remind you that unlike John, the sheer frequency Noah is put into these compromising scenarios is at the expense of his characterization.

Don't think that Spurrier's done playing with his "America Sure Is Racist" prop yet though.

As Noah (still bruised and battered) escapes prison, John pulls a couple more tricks on him: he "accidentally" reveals that Noah is his son, tricks Liz into faking her death to freak Noah out (we'll never see her again after this), and gets Clarice to pretend to die in front of him. All this angers Noah into attempting to kill John- but he stops. Because Noah still isn't that kind of person.

This is all part of John's plan, supposedly he made a deal with demons in Hell that if John himself is killed in the allocated time, he won't actually die. But his plan failed. Unfortunately for John, Nat is still filming their road trip movie, and whatever the actors do, the real characters do as well. A script change happens, and John ends up killing Noah.

But aha, this is yet another trick. By issue #11, Noah wakes up bruise-free and alive (he even gets to smash in John's stand in actor for good measure). Turns out, John's deal with the demons of Hell was for his son to live, instead- a selfless act that none of the Gods and demons saw coming. After John does some more silver-tongue talking to a Dream Entity, he's able to grant people some rushed happy endings.

Noah's mom wakes up from her eight year magical coma, the policeman hunting down Nat and Noah deletes his files, and Nat becomes the boss of a major studio- her writer dreams come to fruition. I don't know how Noah's getting back home to his mom, but shh shhh it's a happy ending, Spurrier promises.

So we have a twist to the usual Hellblazer story. Instead of John surviving at the expense of his friends and family, now John sacrifices his life to Noah and Nat so they can live freely. Last but certainly not least, as Clarice dies she gifts Noah the ability to speak. And when Noah does speak, he sounds so out of character I thought I was misreading things. Is this another lettering mistake? No? Then what is this random poetry.

I recognize what the narrative is doing here. It's John's fault that Noah's mom is in a coma and that Noah is mute, so the resolution to that conflict is for him to undo the wrongs he did to the Ikumelo family- which includes Noah being "cured" of his disability. The problem here is not only is this an exhausting continuation of the "disabilities getting cured" trope- so Noah can join the "easier, simpler" life of able bodied people- but also that a large facet of Noah's identity is tied to John's character development.

Noah might not be the main character, but he's the deuteragonist of Dead In America- the beating family heart that ties John to someone who would otherwise be a stranger. Instead of narratively endearing us to Noah's character, Spurrier seems content to just have Noah drive the bus only to make occasional stops to demonstrate how Racist America Is. It's such a fall from grace to the intriguing character we met in Hellblazer 2019. All that characterization of someone willing to help despite a life of hardship is just out the window.

[spliced panels]

My overall feelings about the treatment of Noah Ikumelo is that whatever representation he embodies feels like being thrown a really shitty party. Noah Ikumelo is an original creation for these two runs. Si Spurrier didn't have to make Noah a Black disabled teenager, but he did. Spurrier takes up that responsibility of representation by half-assing it. The kind of thing a guy who gloats about a bi-colored comic cover would do before accidentally calling the character in it "pansexual" in said comic. And then backpedal on twidder when called out for it. Half ass behavior.

Noah went from being this interesting exploration of unintended legacy to being a prop to make shallow commentary on American racism. Noah is never drawn consistently between artists but he sure is adultified a bunch to the point that I even see readers describing him as "basically an adult" when he's only 16-17 years old. I get that it's supposed to be tragic that he's forced to grow up too soon, but part of that tragedy is that he still is a kid. The portrayal of his disability shows how no research was put into being inclusive in either the writing or the art to the point it's downright nonsensical. The research amounts to looking up a sign language dictionary for words and that's it. This isn't even touching on how there was no recognition of the intersection between Black culture and sign language.

The problems with Noah Ikumelo are not unique to Hellblazer, or Si Spurrier or the Hellblazer creative team. They're a reflection of a predominantly able-bodied and white industry that is comics and media as a whole. The very way comics as a medium is taught carries with it an ableist standard for portraying communication. All this to say that tackling a character like Noah would mean doing the extra work to be critical of what we're used to seeing as the norm. But if you were just going to half-ass setting up a party for Black disabled readers, then why even bother y'know? It's not like Spurrier was held at gun point to create a disabled character. Frankly he was too busy crafting scenarios for guns to be pointing at Noah instead.

[ozzgin]

https://www.tumblr.com/ozzgin/751732947596541952/yanmonster-who-is-a-famous-author-of-human?source=share

Oh, oh, oh, what if he suddenly has a strange reader? Apparently, his ordinary readers are just as humanefucker as he is, and this is noticeable, but in this particular reader such interest is almost unnoticeable. But he's full of interesting observations and ideas about his stories and delicious, quirky, strangely specific and deep interactions with people. With them you can reflect on interactions with people and this is always interesting. And that’s how they start a kind of pen pal friendship. This unknown friend slowly thawed and began asking strange questions about monsters. And I didn’t come up with anything further, and as you guessed, this unknown friend was a human with a strange and quite possibly sexual interest in monster’s works. Monster, of course, does not know that he is corresponding with a human.

Scratch the hiking encounter, this is so much better! Bless you, anon. 😭 Monster Author Concept here.

The human fan is obsessed with monster author’s works, but for completely opposite reasons. You like to self insert as the human protagonist.

So you begin to write him letters, praising his talent, and asking questions about the monsters featured in the books. Are they an accurate depiction? Is this how it really works with monster mating? The beastly writer, in return, is somewhat confused: he would’ve guessed you want to know more about the humans, not the plain, cardboard characters he threw in just for the sake of a spicy plot. What do you mean you want to know more about monsters in heat? Surely you know yourself better than he does.

And then, another peculiarity: you’re shockingly knowledgeable about human lore. He’ll occasionally try to prove you wrong, only to receive a flawless argument in the next letter. He’ll click his tongue in annoyance, envious of your creative endeavor. Where do you get your sources from? How do you come up with these ideas? He’s rather confident that hardly anyone in the monster realm can match his literature on the topic. He’s been researching humans for decades.

Who exactly are you? He insists on a meeting, curious to see this potential rival with his own eyes. Similarly, you’d like to confirm that he is indeed a monster as he claims.

You knock on the door to his office, and he demands to know who’s visiting.

“It’s the human you’ve been corresponding with”, you state with a cheeky grin.

[slimeflowersandsunshine]

So I did art- is it nightmare fuel?

-tallulah

[a-mint-bear]

Cygnus Headcanon Post

🌠Destined Lover from Beyond the Stars🌠

● His face is stiffer that it looks, not a lot of dynamic facial muscles. It makes him less expressive than how human it might appear. The lack of interpersonal interaction his species engages in means they’ve evolved with less need for expressing these kinds of things to each other.

● He had a tail when he was a baby, almost as long as he was. As he got older his scaled armor came in and his tail got smaller until it was covered by the big scales. When he molts, the tail is visible and he finds it embarrassing. As a side effect, he sees creatures with tails as inherently cute as his brain goes “that's a baby”. He wonders if his babies with you will have tails.

● He has trouble recognizing human emotions. So at first, he doesn't know when you're upset or afraid. But he wants to learn. He’s always staring at you, studying everything about you. Your expressions, your body language, the sounds you make. The longer he studies you, it stops being about learning more about you and more about just… watching you. Everything about you just fascinates him.

● Some star systems have treaties with his race that they won’t be included in The Courtship, but they do accept voluntary participants

● He first came to Earth for a completely different reason. At the last port he'd stopped at for refueling, he'd spotted a creature with some similar features to him. The bipedal stance, a similar skull structure, the same flat, soft features in his face. A quick scan and an introduction later, the creature revealed a bit about themself. They said that their sire was of a race from the planet Earth. He'd never heard of it before, or seen a homo sapien, a "human". But the planet and it's people weren't part of any treaties. He could go there without suffering any consequences from the Galactic High Committees. It wasn't a certainty, but he had this urge to find out where his genes may have come from.

● He knew the moment he saw you that you were his mate. Everything about you appealed to him in a way no other creature ever had. Your scent captivated him, when he caught it for the first time, it felt like his insides were on fire. He hunted that wonderful scent for days., always just missing it He felt this pull in his chest, like his body wouldn't stop until he found the source. He didn't know at the time what was compelling him, but when you came into view, everything suddenly made perfect sense.

● It was you. You looked very much like every other human he'd passed while chasing that feeling, with a few notable features and flaws. But everything he saw made him feel something. Something new. It felt physically painful to look away from you for the first few nightfalls. Then, even though it calmed a bit, he trailed after you like everything depended on having you near.

● Before he took his Starlight aboard his ship, he needed to observe them to know how best to take care of them. He scanned their environment to check what their atmosphere was like to recreate it on their ship. He took note of what proteins and vegetation they could and could not consume. He noted their sleeping habits using his cloaking technology, standing mere steps from their bed as they slept. And through all of it, he had to see them interacting with other humans in their day-to-day life. He hated it. Every day, he could feel something inside him changing.

● When he incapacitated you to begin The Courtship, he held you in his arms for the longest time. He watched you breathe, putting his face in the crook of your neck. He had never felt this... this sense of safety, security... this overwhelming sense of possessiveness. You were his, and if anyone tried to take you from him... he could feel the back of his neck grow hot with an overwhelming rage.

● His senses:

-Hearing: Big ol’ ears let him hear everything. Very sensitive and can pick up frequencies human ears can’t. Can hear your heartbeat but doesn't know enough about human physiology to use that info for anything. - Taste & Smell: You’re surprised the first time you see his tongue, it’s bright blue, long and nearly prehensile. He can taste the air with it like a lizard, but has less taste buds than a human. He can’t taste spice but he loves human sweets and baking. His sense of smell is pretty good. He has scent glands on his cheeks like a cat and can identify different people by their scent. He loves to rub his face to yours to make you smell like him, marking you as his. -Touch: Less developed than a human. The bio-armor he sports protects him but also makes him less likely to notice any light touch below his neck. But it also means he can take a beating. Much more sensitive when he’s molted and touch overstimulates him. -Sight: Big ol’ peepers. He can see in the dark and has better vision than a human but not super powerful or anything. It's hard to tell where he is looking sometimes because he doesn't have visible pupils, and it unsettles you sometimes that he doesn't seem to blink. In reality, he has transparent eyelids that blink so fast you don't notice them, like a lizard.

● He knows how his people are supposed to carry out The Courtship (the part where the babies are made), but he can't help but be fascinated with the way humans do it. He wants to hold you close. He wants to feel your oddly soft skin against him. He wants to see you vulnerable and open yourself completely to him. Genetically he knows the two of you are compatible but he… doesn't want to follow through with The Courtship unless you want him. The way he wants you.

● His people don't have a home world anymore, they are nomadic and travel the stars isolated from even each other. There are some stories about the home world they once had, eons ago, but a lot of them don't believe it ever existed.

● From his time on Earth, he had seen how humans structured their clans, their families. His people don't usually care for their young for long after they are old enough to feed themselves. It was just their way, it made them seek out their own way to live out among the stars. And this made them more likely to branch out their own genetic material farther away from where their sires had originated. But some humans raised their young for much longer than that, well past reaching maturity. And then some even kept in contact with their progenitor or progenitors well past creating their own families.

● He wondered if you would want to care for the young that came from the two of you, or if you would look upon them as frightful creatures. They wouldn't look completely human, and he had seen humans throw away their young for fewer differences. He knew you had a kindness, a warmth to you... but you were still wary of him. He had never thought of how he would see his offspring, but they would be a part of you... When he thought of them, and you, your own family... He caught himself purring, from time to time.

[does-it-introject]

... is an account dedicated to introjects, fictives, factives, faitives, songtives, ... tives!

Here's the basic idea: Each post includes a source and a poll; if your system has someone from the source you go 'YES', if not you go 'NO'. If you're not plural you go 'RESULTS'.

Why? Because I think this is fun. Don't take it serious! Don't think too hard about it! You can even use it to find source mates if you want? All up to you!

"Oh but [NAME] what counts as "from the source"?" "Do fictionkin count?" "Does ... count?" YES. Everything counts, if you want. Don't think! Just press little buttons and clarify or don't clarify in your reblog if you want! I'm not gonna limit your button pressing experience!

Is there a DNI? No! It's a poll account. Who cares about who interacts. Just don't go around being an asshole and we're fine!

Requests are always open! Unless they're closed!

Yes, the profile is the fictive flag, but this account is for all of you tiny beings; I just really love this flag so... yea man!

Small, growing QNA below the cut!!

"Can you add a button for 'unsure' / 'used to' / 'maybe' / 'not interacted with source'?" - I appreciate the questions, but I'd prefer to keep the polls limited to these options! I get the frustration though. Just click whichever option feels right to you, and if neither feels right you can always click 'RESULTS'.

"How many requests can we send it?" - Go crazy! Go wild! Send 100 requests in one ask or 100 requests in 100 single asks! I don't mind either way!

"Are there any requesting rules?" - My only condition is: do NOT expect me to know what "TIAEOWNTDLOL" means as an acronym. Write the full name, I beg of you, my oh so dear requester. I had to delete three asks because I had no idea what the letters meant. Extra Note: I give you a cookie if you write (game / show / band) in your request.

"Are there any forbidden sources?" - No, where's the fun in that? Request whichever! Also, yes, factive sources are absolutely welcome and appreciated here as well! Adult sources are okay as well, but will be tagged accordingly to keep the younger people safe!

"Can I request a source you already made a poll about?" - Yes, if the original poll is atleast a month old! I will let it rerun if people want it!

"Can singlet fictionkin / IRLs / ... vote in the polls?" - Sure, if you want! You guys are just as cool as everyone else so go ahead and press that little button!

"Can you post more polls a day?" - I do not want to spam the tags with polls that not everyone might want to see. 4 is the maximum posts a day. Okay? Yea!

"Why didn't you post trigger warnings for this media?" - I add trigger warnings to media I assume to possibly contain triggering content from the images / name or ones I am actively aware of. If you believe a media I posted should get TWs and be hidden under a cut, please let me know in my asks or dms and tell me which elements specifically so I can add them after posting.

[thevixensuniverse]

"THE BLEEDING NOIRE"

"CHAPTER 4- JUST THE BEGINNING"

"Destined soulmates/Royalty AU"

"YANDERE ROYALTY ATEEZ OT8 X WITCH/MEDIC READER"

Trigger warning:contains dark and non con elements/torture/death and several others

You are responsible for the content you consume.

General Warnings:Dark AU,slow burn,smut eventually,non con/dub con elements,magic,coercion,manipulation,possessiveness,obsessiveness,literally unhinged as it gets by,contains mature themes and dark contents,fighting scenes(not in this chapter) and if I forget anything..drop a message.

Chapter Warnings: contains non con elements,magic, General yandere shit and implied kidnapping.

Credits to the pic owner and do not copy my work.

Contains dark elements.

MDNI;DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST.

MASTERLIST

[A/N: the chapter 4 is here! Happy reading loves!]

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Hongjoong's POV

Silence..

It's been 4 hours since he encountered yeosang coming out of the garden with a satisfied glint in his eyes and a very bright and smug smile gracing his features.

It's been 4 hours since Yeonsag told him,He had found her.

4 hours of Hongjoong pacing in his royal office trying and failing to maintain his calm.

His mind is screaming and is trying to find new ways to create excuses to run away from his palace for a day to visit you in Lemyra Forest.

Atleast that's what Yeosang told him; that you are a witch and that you live in the Lemyra forest.

He knows about the Lemyra forest.

It's known for it's myths and strange creatures for centuries.

It's known for being inhabited by humans.

And yet, you live there.

Strangely,he finds a sense of solace in the fact that you live so far away from the normal civilians of the kingdom.

No one can touch you.

And, It'll be easier to just sweep you away from the forest,without anyone noticing.

But,the thing is,Hongjoong has never seen you.

But he knows...

He knows that the moment he lays his eyes on you, He'll never let go.

Hell can freeze before he will let you go willingly.

He knows it's wrong.

He knows he's behaving like a caveman.

He knows that a crown prince should prioritize his people over someone who he've never met.

But still,the heart wants what it wants.

By yeosangs words,

you look absolutely stunning.

A goddess in mortal form.

You have raven hair flowing in waves and a heart shaped face.

Your skin is sun-kissed and your features unique like that of a forest spirit.

You smell sweet with hints of citrus and musk.

You laugh freely and talk without fear or shame.

You're the storm and the calm after it.

He's losing his mind.

A rational part of him is ecstatic that he finally found the source of the strange feelings,bubbling inside him for weeks.

But the other part?.

The primal and dark part?

It whispers that,yeosang got to you first.

He spent the night with you;even though you two did nothing more than fall asleep together.

A surge of hot posessive fury spreads along his chest.

He knows that you're all their mate.

You belong to all 8 of them.

He has to share you with all 7 of his brothers ;even though most of them are not even aware of your existence.

But he knows,that it won't be long before they start questioning the strange feelings that bubbles in their chest for no seeming reason.

He knows,they'll come to him.

And he knows,that he can't hide the fact forever...

The fact that,he and yeosang are aware of the existence of their mate.

A missing piece they weren't even aware of.

Until a few days ago.

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

That's why he's doing it.

He tells himself.

That's why,hongjoong leaving Seonghwa in charge,went out to find you...alone,with a cryptic response to Seonghwa's question of where he's going, with,

"To find something precious".

Seonghwa didn't question.

He knew better to question Hongjoong when he's purposefully giving him a cryptic response.

He knows whatever it is,that Hongjoong is on the hunt for, inevitably he'll tell him before anyone else.

And so,he let's him go with a nod.

Hongjoong sets off in his horse.

The sun is casting golden hues over the horizon,beginning to set.

He reaches the middle of the forest and gets off his horse.

He looks around.

No pathways,no animal in sight;

Hell not even a single leaf is moving.

Something's wrong.

Somethings definitely wrong.

He unsheaths his sword,ready to face whatever is causing the eeire stillness.

The first myth of the Lemyra forest, is that it is protected by the forest spirit which created the forest, centuries ago.

It is said to confuse humans who trespass the forest.

The spirit is said to guard her forest with utmost precision and is even said to be cruel.

And then,

"What are you doing in my forest?"

A chilling voice speaks around him.

Hongjoong spins around,to find the source of the voice.But the voice sounds omnious.It resonates from every direction of the forest.

He grits his teeth,sword still clenched tightly in his grasp.

"My mate is here, in this forest.I mean no harm.I just want to see her."

He replies to the omnious voice.

"Oh~...Do you now?"

The voice says and he can sense the subtle mockery in the tone.

His jaw clenches and his eyes darken.

"Yes, I Want to see her. You must know her, given she's living in your forest".

A deep chuckle resounds and the branches of the trees sway lightly as a slight breeze passes by.

"Yes, I do know her. She's a part of me. She gifted me her precious flower,which gives me more strength to ward off humans like you"

Hongjoong's patience is slowly unraveling under the mocking undertones of the Spirit.

"Do you realize...I'm the crown prince of this land?...I'm about to undergo coronation in a month,which makes me your king"

Laughter.

Deep and unsettling laughter.

The breeze is gone and now the trees are Swaying violently as the forest spirit manifests into a visible form infront of him.

A figure of White,cloaked in branches and leaves and earth is now standing infront of him.

"Oh My,My......Crown Prince huh?...I do not care if you're the Crown prince or the Guardian of the kingdom.

This is my forest and the witch you're looking for?

She belongs to me.

She belongs to my forest.

I will never let you take her away from me.

Do you think I'll be fooled by your excuse of "just here to see her?"

The figure leans in closer looking into his eyes.

"I can see the swirls of obsession blooming in your eyes and you say you're here to just see her.

I know what love and obsession does to humans and you boy, are already obsessed.

I'm no fool.

I can clearly smell your intentions.

You're here to posess her.

You want to claim her.

I can see the darkness hidden deep in your orbs.

It's making me recoil.

I will never allow you near my witch.

You can go back the way you came from."

Everything is still for a moment.

And,laughter. Again.

But..

This time, it's erupting from Hongjoong.

He's laughing.

The spirit is unmoving and observes him in silence..

Before it freezes.

The trees still.

His eyes.

Hongjoong’s eyes have taken a black so dark,it resembles the devil's.

He stops laughing and looks straight at the spirit with a tilted head;his eyes terrifyingly dark, with specks of gold and red in his iris.

A slight shiver runs down the spirits spine at the realization.

The Velmorrins.

Standing infront of the spirit,is no ordinary human.

He's of the Velmorrin Lineage.

The only hybrid blood lineage of the Devil himself.

The spirit instinctively steps back at the sudden power pouring off Hongjoong in waves that makes even the spirit recoil in fear.

"Now..now...what were you saying?"

He says,his mouth pulled back in a snarl,his fingers twitching and his voice rough;like he's holding himself back from tearing the spirit apart just by his bare fingers.

The spirit recoils even more at the underlying threatening edge of his voice and does what it should to survive a Velmorrin.

It runs away.

It disappears.

It vanishes into thin air.

The forest comes alive again.

The forest seems to be moving with an occasional breeze passing through.

The trees don't look eternal and it doesn't feel like it's closing in on him anymore.

His eyes go back to his human form and he straightens himself.

"Where is she?"

He asks to no one particular;but the forest responds as a gentle breeze passes by him and blows to the west.

He pats his horse's neck.

A silent command for it to find its way back to the palace alone.

And the horse neighs in response and takes off in the direction it came from.

He starts walking with the Forest now guiding him.

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It's past sunset when he makes out a cottage in the distance,surrounded by a garden.

He walks with a new found fervor.

Found you.

Anticipation and excitement alike making his heart stutter in his chest.

He reaches the threshold of the cottage, climbs up the stairs and...

*KNOCK* *KNOCK*

He senses some kind of rustling from the other side before he hears soft footsteps padding towards the door.

He gulps,preparing himself for the moment he's gonna lay his eyes on you for the first time ever.

The door opens and his brain short circuits.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you.

Standing with a confused expression on your face,looking at him with a tilted head,with your pink apron on,that says,

"Bitch? Haha,Witch♡"

"Uh..hi?...can I help you?"

You say cautious,but with a calm and kind smile on your face.

He snaps himself out of it and clears his throat,unable to find his voice.

"You must be Y/N"

He sees your eyes go wide at his recognition of you and you blink up at him.

"Yeah?...That's me..How can I help you?"

He smiles politely and bows before extending his hand out to you in greeting.

"Kim hongjoong,the Crown prince"

You're frozen in your spot as you look at his form before straightening your spine and bowing back.

"Your highness.."

Hongjoong bites his cheek internally at the use of your formal address towards him.

It sounds too distant.

Too unfamiliar.

Too cold.

Like you're keeping him at arms length.

He chuckles a bit,trying to disperse the tension in his jaws at your formal greeting as,

He takes your hands and plants a kiss on your knuckles; his lips lingering seconds too long before he stands straight,your hands still in his grasp;too casually,like it's always meant to be intertwined with his.

"Please, Hongjoong is sufficient."

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Y/N's POV

What the hell is happening?

It's just been...what? A few hours since you took off from the Sertyok palace.

And the crown prince is standing infront of you?

And your hands are still in his grasp.

He looks like he has no idea of letting them go.

And in all honesty, you're not sure if you want to let go either.

The same tingling feeling you felt the night before with Yeosang returns.

The place where that damned mark is in your body is tingling warmly.

The sensation oddly comforting.

That's when you realize.

Heavens.

Is he my soulmate too?!

Hongjoong sensing the realization dawning on your features,chuckles softly before pulling you into him.

Too natural.

Too much.

In Too little time.

He does it like he's always done this to you forever.

Like the way his arms are snaking around your waist and pulling you into him is something he's done a countless times before.

Like he's not meeting you for the first time.

Like he didn't show up in your cottage in the middle of the Lemyra forest at sunset.

You gulp.

One part of you is content,your mind practically going blank at the closeness.

The other part?..The one with rationality and logic is telling you this man met you ten minutes ago and he's practically cuddling you in your doorstep.

Hongjoong sensing your inner turmoil,tightens his hold, a soft smile on his face.

"I know...I know it's too much,too soon....But I can't help myself.

To think that you were in the palace grounds all night and I couldn't see you made something crack inside me.

I apologize,but I cannot hold myself back.

Please allow me to hold you a little longer,My queen."

He says without restraint and desperation bleeding into his tone,the endearment slipping out unconsciously but luckily for him,you don't seem to notice.

You nod hesitantly and that's all the permission he needs to bury his head into the crook of your neck,inhaling deeply and trying to memorise your scent.

You smell sweet with citrus and musk and something uniquely you,just like Yeosang said.

He continues holding you for another minute before reluctantly detaching himself from you.

You stand there awkwardly,biting your bottom lips unsure of what you should do now.

So like a normal civilian with manners,you do the seemingly appropriate thing.

"I'm cooking dinner. Wanna come in?"

He lets out a sound;something between a grunt of satisfaction and anticipation at your invitation; as he nods.

You push the door open wider and he strides in,looking around.

You guide him to your kitchen where you have an intricate dining table.

"Please sit. The food will be done cooking soon."

He sits down pulling the chair out and resting his head on his hands as he continues drinking in the sight of you moving about with your little apron on around the kitchen.

"I hope you don't mind tomato soup wirh garlic bread?"

You ask, stirring the pot of what he guesses is the tomato soup.

He'd eat anything you'll give him.

He nods.

"I don't mind, actually it smells very appetizing"

Your eyes light up at his subtle praise and you smile at him and continue stirring.

A minute or two later, you're turning off the stove ready to take the pot to the dining table,before he gently interjects and takes the pot from the stove,lifting it and takes it to the dining table himself.

You blink,before smiling to yourself.

What a gentleman.

You wash your hands and plate the already baked garlic bread and serve him a portion before taking your Seat.

All while hongjoong is entranced by the simple domesticity of this all.

He could get used to this.

You look at him expectantly,subtly looking forward to his reaction to your food.

He tears a piece of the bread,the scent of fresh parsley and garlic filling his nostrils as he dips it into his bowl of tomato soup and takes a bite.

Hongjoong nearly moans at the taste of it.

He's relishing the flavours with his eyes closed and as he opens them, he finds you looking at him with an expression which he could describe with only one word.

Adorable.

He couldn't control himself.

He extends him left hand towards your face and strokes your cheeks gently.

His actions giving away the utter adoration blooming in his chest at the sight of you, looking up at him expectantly.

You slightly lean into his touch and his heart stutters again.

"This is absolutely ravishing...my little witch. The best food that has graced my tongue in so long.

Your cooking is really amazing.This is Literally the best food I've ever tasted in a while"

Your cheeks warm and you bashedly turn your head away, strings of shy laughter escaping you.

"Come on..that's a bit dramatic..don't you think?"

Hongjoong's smile widens looking at your pink cheeks and chuckles under his breath.

Cute.

"No..it's really good,very delicious and well made.

I could get used to this...."

He whispers the last part to himself.

You don't seem to catch it,as you smile and silently eat after reveling in his praise.

Dinner goes by with soft conversations and giggles exchanged.

You and Hongjoong are plopped on your couch together with a steaming cup of honey tea in your hands.

A comfortable silence stretching between you.

He sighs and you look at him with a puzzled expression.

"I don't wanna go back"

Your expression softens as you extend your arms to him.

He takes it and interwines your fingers together and traces small patterns with his thumb.

"I don't want you to go too"

You blink.

You didn't mean to say it out loud.

But you did blurt it out,surprising even yourself.

That's it.

That's all what he wanted to hear.

That's what it takes for him to settle the cup in the nearby surface in a desperate fervor and cupping your cheeks and crashing your lips together,in a bruising kiss.

You freeze for a second.

And, you wrap your arms around his neck.

He lets outs a moan as you kiss him back with equal intensity.

You let out a soft gasp as he pulls you into him and effectively settling you in his lap.

He uses your surprise to his advantage and slips his tongue inside your mouth.

Tongues clash as he softly bites your bottom lip.

He's not kissing you.

He's devouring you.

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Hongjoong feels like he's in fucking heaven.

You lips mould against his perfectly.

Like they were made for kissing him.

He swallows the small sounds that escape you.

He's kissing you like a man possessed.

You pull back slightly as you get out of breath,your eyes glossy and dazed.

He follows your lips and kisses you again and only stops when a whine escapes you.

He pulls back slightly,a trail of saliva still connecting you both,as he brushes you bottom lip with his thumb.

"You're fucking perfect,you know that?"

Your breath hitches,your noses still touching.

You snap out of your kiss daze and look up at him.

And your words die on your throat.

His eyes.

It's black.

Black like the eternal abyss.

With specks of gold and red.

Your breathing stops for a second.

You pull back completely, realization dawning on your features while he looks at you in confusion.

"You are a Velmorrin?"

You say with a calm that your heart is not in sync with by the way it's thundering in your chest.

Utter disbelief flashes across your face.

Your soulmate is a Velmorrin.

The lineage of Velmorrins..

The ones who caused the war that killed half of the population on earth.

The Great war of Talka.

The war which killed millions.

Soldiers,woman,children and even animals alike.

All while Velmorrins relished in the chaos they caused.

The war that killed half of your family.

You shakily stand up and step back from him.

The Velmorrins are known for their cruel ways and even crueler intents.

And you've witnessed it through your family.

Hongjoong's expression changes from confusion to something else.

Something unreadable.

He stands up and walks over to you and you instinctively step back.

You turn around and were about to sprint when he manifests out of thin air infront of you,making you crash face first into his chest.

Before you can step back,he wraps his arms around you.

"Shh...now..it's okay....You're okay...baby...let's not get scared now.."

"Please...let go..I-I think this is a mistake.I shouldn't have let you in, a stranger into my home."

His face loses all it's gentleness you witnessed just a while ago,as his expression hardens.

"A stranger?"

He laughs.

"Baby, you were with me all evening.

You cooked for me,you kissed me back like your life depended on it and now you're calling ME a stranger?.

You're calling your mate...a stranger?"

"It was before I knew you were a Velmorrin"

You say, your voice icy as you glare at him.

He doesn't seem detered by it.

He plants a kiss on your nose before you can even react and tugs your hair back,his grip not painful,but still assertive.

"You look sexy as fuck when you're glaring at me with those pretty eyes, darling"

He licks the skin from the base of your neck to your jawline,and he gently nips at your earlobes as you shudder.

He smirks.

"Let go"

You say trying to sound as unaffected as possible but it's futile as he continues leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck and sucks,leaving behind a trail of bruises blooming in your neck.

"Hongjoong,I'm serious let go before I do something I regret"

He all, but shivers as his name leaves your lips as he continues kissing and says in a muffled voice.

"Something you regret?...like what?

Curse me? Do a spell to kill me?....or....is it..something like...give in to me?"

You clench your jaws,your frustration mounting as you utter.

"I know soul bonds can be rejected. I'll reject you, if you don't let me go...right now"

He pauses.

And looks into your eyes,his darkened orbs sending a slight shiver down your spine.

The intensity making your legs slightly wobbly.

Partly out of fear and partly out of something you don't want to admit to yourself....

Not right now.

But your breath catches at the sinister smirk that makes its way onto his face.

Your breath catches out of something else this time.

Fear.

Because of fear.

Before you can react,the darkness of his eyes spread along his cheekbones and his canines protrude and sharpens..

And he's tugging your hair back again and biting down on the column of your throat.

A strange sensation spreads through your body.

Warm,tingly and dizzying.

Your mouth frozen in mid scream.

You're heart starts beating too loud that you can feel it thumping against your chest.

He pulls back,crimson coating his lips as he licks your blood clean off his lips.

Your body feels light as your vision starts going hazy.

You sway a little bit as you move forward and he catches you and brushes your hair out of your face.

His touch sends a wave of contentment throughout you, against your better judgement.

"W-what....did you do?"

You croak out weakly.

He continues brushing your hair away from your face as he says something that makes your hazy eyes grow wide with horror.

"I marked you.

You're now bound to me.

You can't resist me anymore,My little witch.

Your body will crave me from now on,even though you don't want it,even if you fight it.

But I know you want it.

You like me too.

It's just a matter of time before I break you, before you come to me willingly."

Tears well up in your eyes at the turn of events.

You were having a peaceful evening and he came in like a storm.

Turned your world upside down.

He continues holding you against him as your vision starts blurring and the last words you hear are,

"I won't make the same mistake yeosang did.

I'm not stupid or patient enough to let you go..

Sleep,little witch..

When you wake,I'll be there..

Your king,your soulmate will be there.

In my palace, in my room."

You should hate it.

But no, you don't.

Some sick part of you is content that he claimed you.

Some sick part of you is finding comfort within his arms that's holding you.

Some sick part of you is relieved that he didn't let you go.

Even though you fought him.

Even though you tried to run away.

You're already starting to go insane and..you know for a fact that..

This is just the beginning..

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TAGLIST:

@fr34k4c1dr41n

@ninjakitty15

[kedreeva]

hi, first of all i love all of your birds and thank you for posting them so much!

i tried to search your blog but couldnt find anything, so excuse me if you answered this before: how does you having raised bug affect her chicks? like will they be a little different same as bug is? will she raise them in the coop with the others or also inside with you (especially since male chicks cant be raised by humans, how does this affect bumblebee?) thank you!

The answer is.... I don't know! It's rare for anyone to hand raise these birds successfully, and imprinted hens generally either have no interest in mating/nesting or retain no interest in humans, depending how they were raised. Friendly hens generally raise friendlier babies, as they bring babies over to their caretakers for treats, but as far as I know, no one's ever had a peahen nest beside them and raise the babies the way Bug is, with completely calm interaction with a human. Aris and Aurora and Eris all bring their babies up to me, and their babies have been less skittish than those raised by, say, Opal or Corona, who rarely if ever approach me.

But I'm not actually doing the majority of care for these two, and I'm not sure I would call them imprinted. Now, Bug IS imprinted because even though I raised her mostly outside all day with other birds, I was still her sole caretaker. And, like Bug, the Larvae are outside in a pen with the other birds for 90% of the daylight hours, and come inside only to roost, but unlike Bug they aren't getting the majority of their care from a human-shaped source. All they get from me is bugs to eat in the morning when I get up, and bugs to eat at night before bed, and then we walk to the pen. From there, they spend the day there being birds, with me visiting only for a little while once or twice a day to check on them and bring them fresh water and treats. So they SHOULD be pretty normal, but hopefully remain friendly toward humans- we won't know THAT for another three years or so. However, I've raised indoor, incubator-hatched birds similarly to this (like Helios) and had them turn out great- his owner reports he's still friendly and chill as an adult.

That being said, there really isn't a precedent, so it could be not like that at all. I also don't KNOW what sex they are, and I won't know for at least another month, probably closer to two months. They could very well both be girls, both be boys, or be a girl and a boy but not the way I thought. It remains to be seen. The only reason I know about the EV hens is because the EV gene is sex-linked, meaning right now they can ONLY be girls by the way the genetics transfer. The blues could be hens or cocks, no way to tell until their feathers start differentiating between 2 and 3 months of age.

[smoothlikealikeasnake]

Strawberry Princess - Overview

Pairing - BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre - Hybrid!Au , Hybrid BTS x Hybrid Reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slow burn? , alternative reality , strangers to lovers , strangers to friends, friends to lovers

Warnings - slight suggestiveness in some parts of this brief

Summary - When a certain hybrid starts to appear whenever Jungkook is at the gym, an immediate pull is felt between the two and their eventual friendship soon is spread to the rest of his pack.

This Chapter will be a brief on the dynamics in this reality along with an overview on each character.

Chapter One -Complete Opposites

Seokjin - Polar Bear Hybrid

Yoongi - Black Panther Hybrid

Hoseok - Leopard Hybrid

Namjoon - Grey Wolf Hybrid

Jimin - Arctic Fox Hybrid

Taehyung - White Tiger Hybrid

Jungkook - Black Bunny Hybrid

Y/n - Orange Siberian Hybrid

Dynamics in this reality

In this reality, human and hybrids live equally, both interact and work together with little to no division. Hybrids however, often create packs especially when they find their mate or mates, it isn’t uncommon to have more than one mate but it is unusual to see more than 2 mates to a hybrid.

A hybrids animal self is often more dormant than their human side until they are in the comfort of their homes and while they have some influence over their behaviour, a hybrids animal side often won’t depict their personality based on stereotype.

Hybrids are meant to shift atleast twice a month to remain healthy and are advised to give in to their instincts often as they are not harmful, some resist but it’s not healthy too.

There are often pack hierarchies, which there is in Bangtan, each member / mate will have a designated role to keep stability and peace within the pack. For example, Seokjin took it upon himself to care for the pack through gestures of cooking and cleaning while the rest of the pack have different roles. Namjoon is the pack leader of Bangtan while Seokjin is the caregiver.

Hybrids have stronger scents and sense of smell than humans, their scent is sourced in multiple places of their bodies such as the whole base of their necks, just under their jaw, inside of their wrists and a few other places which you will find out about soon.

Heats and ruts are inevitable, there is no way to prevent them but there is relaxers you can buy to reduce the pain and sickness some hybrids experience. Along with abdominal pain, all hybrids also experience the overwhelming urge to mate with their partners, this is the only way to truly satiate the pain and other symptoms. Contact from a mate will ease the symptoms but any other attempts at relief will not change the symptoms. The frequency and length of ruts and heats depend on the species of Hybrid the individual is,

Jungkook gets his monthly for example while Y/n gets hers every 2 months compared to Seokjin only getting his every 6 months but for a longer duration than Jungkook and Y/n. The rest of the packs frequency spans between 2 months to 5 months for varied lengths.

Hybrids also have specific mannerisms that instinctively affect them and that they will project.

Scenting - Scenting can be done in multiple ways and is normal amongst close friends and especially lovers. It can be done by rubbing scent glands together such as wrist to wrist, wrist to neck or neck to neck but it can also be done by many more intimate methods. Kissing and licking a scent gland will also scent the recipient but this is usually only done between lovers as it is intimate and often elicits arousal between the two.

Touches - Hybrids naturally crave touch more than humans, especially between eachother, friends and lovers both require more touch than humans would but also have stronger reactions to touch due to the sensitivity of all of their senses and skin. Hybrids can become unhappy and even depressed after going too long without touch from their friends and lovers, a simple hand holding will make it better but it’s easier to satisfy with kisses and more intimate gestures between lovers.

Behaviour - most species will have mannerisms specific to their species for example most felines will purr when happy and comfortable while most canines are energetic but there are more mannerisms breed specific so each hybrid is different.

Tails and Ears - these parts of a hybrid are especially sensitive and aren’t touched by anyone but the hybrid themself and their partner or partners, even small grazes of a hand will send shocks over a hybrids entire body so they often move subconsciously away from any near surface or person.

Treating - hybrids saliva will naturally heal wounds many times faster than it would without, those close to eachother, especially mates, will feel instinct to treat wounds of those they share close relationships with and they often can’t help this instinct and will do it without thinking.

This was just an overview of the general things that may come up in this fic but if you have any other questions now or throughout just ask ! X

This is my first fic and hasn’t been edited so there may be spelling and grammar mistakes, please excuse them but I hope you enjoy the fic ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚