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cadaverjuices · 8 months

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sane/insane

cast; hunter [he/him], septimus [he/him] word count - 3202 CWs// violence, blood, animal harm metaphors, religious themes, emeto, self harm stuff whump specific; BBU/pet whump, intimate whumper/carewhumper, whumpee is in love with whumper and vice versa, transman whumpee, gay whumper, and a female whumper is mentioned.

summary;

the overlap between predator and prey, what each does to quell traumas bygone.

A/N - originally two different short stories i wrote!! featuring worlds most fucked up rabbit boy hunter, and septimus. who multiclasses as a whumper/whumpee/caretaker because hes special [specially traumatized].

hunter stared as the blood ran down the drain, his body feeling faint, his consciousness feeling foggy like he was underwater- and even as the tap blares a loud sound as rushing water runs through it, he can’t focus on it, it becomes an inaudible buzzing in the back of his mind, muffled by the screaming of his body.

there's not much to be said about what he felt.

he felt scared, disgusted to the core.

he wanted to cry, scream, run away, but he stood still, staring absentmindedly at the blood being washed off of him, pouring down in a reddish-pinkish hue, pain searing all the way through his body.

how did they get to this?

why- like moth to flame, is he like this?

and as he coughs again, gagging a disgustingly wet and rancid sound as more blood pours out, he felt himself cry, a weary smile on his face, tears prickling at the edge of his eyes and pouring down.

it’s not the physical pain that hurt, but the images that haunted his mind.

septimus-

'gather yourself,' hunter tells himself, hand grasping his leg, his shoulder feels sticky, wet skin against a wet tile wall, 'what's going on?' he asks his own dazed, dizzy mind.

he’d been hurt again.

well, that one was obvious, wasn't it?

devoured like some sort of prey animal, he could feel the deep gash wounds scream in pain; twisting, churning like the waves of a deep red ocean, screaming for some sort of relief.

but it doesn’t come, it never does, no matter how far hunter thinks he gets in his 'journey', he is always back there again.

hurt and broken and on fire, no matter how good hunter feels in one moment, the next he feels just as empty, just as depressed as before, in need of that 'fix' again.

always the same, always the exact same empty feeling, the same depression, the same gnawing deep need for what he knows will set him free, and always... the same relief he gets from his 'fix', being hurt.

always the same relief he gets when he starts to boil with self-hate, bubbling out of him and showing its ugly face to all those around him, all those whom he should care about and should find comfort in, when they leave him.

alone again, pretty?

an echo of a memory within his mind, loving affectionate voice, juxtaposed with a face he knew did not mean well.

and then, it's always the same person- or same kind of person, that he always gets that final relief, that final comfort from, a twisted, dark, and sick kind of comfort, a disgusting kind, an impure kind.

septimus.

tall, beautiful septimus. looks of an angel, hands of a devil, he denies it every time. saying he's not worthy of that moniker, calling himself twisted and impure- it only convinces hunter more. scars on his back, yellow eyes like a cat at night, and black hair with yellow streaks, he always smiles like he's getting a twisted joy out of everything, as if he doesn't deserve it.

hunter’s fallen angel.

perhaps if it was someone else hunter would have to ask himself where he was, but he knew. nobody had quite the decoration like his septimus. holes in the wall, dust flies about glittering in the yellowed flickering lights, he sees discarded cigarettes and broken trash, there's some mysterious grime in the corners of the bathroom that he was being careful to not touch and of course- the piece de resistance.

blood covers from here to fro, hunter was far from the only bloody thing in this house he was sure.

he always has wondered, where does that blood come from? as far as he knows septimus doesn't really have any friends, with or without quotations.

when he feels a hand from behind rest upon his shoulder, he knows he's right.

from the corner of his eye, he sees him kneel, a hand squirms its way under his chin and sets itself upon his cheek, he burrows into it as he's pulled to look at the man himself.

septimus.

on him there is blood, his clothes are frazzled, hunter sees the parts where his hands were probably just pulling at, and in septimus' hands, he holds a bloody sheet.

a gentle voice, “don’t go ruining this place again, hunter.” it speaks, smooth, soft, and yet unsettling; a coldness creeps in like a morning breeze, so gentle, but hunter feels himself freeze in fear at it, like a rabbit caught by a hawk, he's smiling at hunter, a thumb caresses his cheek, in his eyes, hunter sees the unimaginable adoration he holds for hunter, a sick kind of love.

his voice turns mockingly upset, “you know i can’t keep on cleaning up after your mess, you just need to be still and nothing like what happened last time will happen again.” it says, so chillingly sweet, like a toxin making it way into hunters gut, making him shake, he feels lips against his other cheek, a kiss.

“come on, answer me.” he says, voice lower, tightening jaw and a hand tightening on his neck, nails prickling at his skin like knives, threatening to tear in at any second.

he doesn't think septimus is aware of it, even, as his brows furrow- desperation, hunter has seen it a thousand times before.

just as broken as the other, just as desperate for affection and approval as the other.

it's frankly pathetic; for both of them.

hunter nods slowly, half-lidded and exhausted, feeling the pressure release from his neck, and sees as septimus goes to stand up over him, “good.” a breathy, disgustingly cheery voice says, a short laugh, breathy, “good, yeah, good.” and hunter is pulled up, feeling himself stand on shaky legs, held lovingly like fragile glass, but nails dig into his skin like rodent caught by bird.

hunter takes a shaky, painful breath, and leans away from the blood puddle from where he sat, being pulled away firmly; gently by septimus, feeling how he clings onto him, grasping him, squeezing him just slightly enough that he can feel the stinging of the gashes at being pulled at, he slowly looks up into the mirror, seeing himself, bloodied and torn apart like wet tissue paper, and septimus behind him, a crescent, crude smile on his lips, eyes staring back at hunter, poking at hunters skin, pulling at the skin, opening up those wounds he himself tore into hunter, there is a sense of pride he shouldn't perhaps have.

artist and his work?

a hand slowly travels up and grabs hunter's face, this hand more covered in blood than the last- he shivers at the wet feeling the blood gives on his skin, feeling sick as he feels himself tense up, but he stays still, nails gently poking at his skin as septimus twists his face to look at him.

“hunter.” he asks, a quiet and smooth voice, nose against his, his thumb caresses hunters face slowly, “you know i love you right? that this is out of love, right?” and, as hunter breathes slowly, shakily… a little smile creeps on his face.

the fix.

cure for his sickness, he lets himself be covered in worse disease, a shaky, weak breath from him- it's an intoxicating feeling.

“of course.” he says, septimus stares at his face for a second longer, absorbing the moment fully, a gentle kiss onto hunter’s bloodied lips, and he backs away, letting hunter go, his tone suddenly shifts, colder, disinterested. in his eyes, hunter sees how he stares off into nothing yet again, always only focusing on the candle as it's burning, moth to flame alike.

“i’ll go call that doctor guy for you, you seem to have had enough of me now.” he mumbles, "you'll be fine in here yourself, right?" he asks, eyes digging through hunter, seemingly looking through him. hunter nods and then watches as his beloved fallen angel goes out of the bathroom, leaving hunter alone.

rabbits are not supposed to love hawks.

hunter stands, feeling himself wave from side to side as he stands, and then starts to cry, there's an exhausted smile on his face as he slides down.

it hurts, oh it always does.

it hurts so damn much, and yet he can’t stop coming here- and no matter how hurt he is, no matter how much pain he feels, no matter how broken he gets, it's still never enough is it?

he still returns to him, or others. he still comes back to be broken, torn apart.

and god, each time after- through the bewitching words septimus weaves, like blades through his skin, he’s always left feeling as if nobody will ever truly care for him that way again, obsessive sick love.

he doesn't know what septimus would do if he told him how much he adores him.

he doesn't know how he would bear with never seeing the worst of his coping mechanisms ever again.

but it's the only thing that keeps him feeling sane.

lower than dirt, lower than worms, there he is.

it’s not that he didn’t love hunter, oh he loved him. but an animal untrained is unrestrained in its behaviour.

a sharp beak picks apart fine rabbit bones, it’s instinct. it’s all he knows.

affection is something that cannot be afforded to morons, where his hands trace only bruises are left- his existence was bloody destruction, tearing apart the things he wishes he could care for whenever he is left without a muzzle around his head.

restraint was not something that he was ever taught. joy was not a privilege an animal like him deserved.

every feeling of joy, affection, and love was counteracted by a feeling of anger, disgust, and most of all; hatred. hatred for hunter for instilling the feelings of sin within him, a hatred for himself for daring to feel that way, a hatred for what was lost, what was never given, and what he cannot do.

contradiction was something he knew very well. the contradiction of being desired yet never loved, the contradiction of wanting love but not being able to give it, of being trained like a refined pet and yet rabid like a feral dog.

the things he would do to fix himself. pull out teeth, rip out nails, but nothing could ever kill the filth that was weaved finely into his entire being, a silk of only the worst he could do, never anything good coming out of him.

oh, it wasn’t that he hated hunter, no. it was that he hated himself.

to have someone who still accepted him was something he hated, something he wished would not happen, he curses anyone who forgives his sin. but he still never refuses it; a feeling of being starved, he longs for someone to treat him normally. but he can't treat anyone normally himself, the hands of a sinner. bubbling up.

it always ends the same.

bloody hands, bloody apartment, the taste of regret at the back of his throat and yet intoxication at the only affection he could afford. bloody love, the sign of the heathen he was always meant to be. created to hurt, created to suffer, created to destroy.

he wasn’t human anymore, he was something else by now he was sure of. sins pile up and twist one's form. maybe he never was one.

hunter didn’t- hunter did not come to him for love. no, he came for… other reasons to be sure, but septimus didn’t mind being used, even pain and fear, tears rolling off one’s face, could feel like being loved after being starved of it, he knew that very well himself.

so when he was asked not to tear, not to hurt, but to restrain himself, he was… anxious, afraid.

sweetness from each kiss hunter gave him, he didn't know how to reciprocate that, his hands wrap around hunters wrists, loosely as to not make him bleed as he always does.

refreshing intoxication emanates from hunter as his warmth does, to be so gentle with a monster was a virtue he was so jealous of.

disgust builds up at the back of his throat.

rotted bile, rotted mind, rotted morals.

unreciprocative trash

hunters voice was quiet, painfully kind as he speaks, “septimus?” he mumbles, and even though he doesn't answer hunter continues, “this… this might be really out of nowhere, i’m sorry..” he whispers, and as septimus hears the way that hunters voice gets choked up he wishes, he could tear flesh from bone, his throat hurting as if a ball were stuck in it, constricting flesh around the obstruction.

constricting hatred around the obstruction.

“i just- i... i like this, i think” he said, and the bile growing in the back of his throat couldn’t be more distracting, this wasn’t right and it wasn’t something that should happen “i like us, i love us like this-” and before he finishes the sentence septimus steps away.

he hated this. he hated himself for the way he acted, when he leaves he doesn’t say a word.

he almost wants to laugh at the irony of it all, something once so holy, so pure- now twisted.

wingless angel, the means he would go to so that he could feel human. but he still wasn’t one despite it all, even when tearing feathers from flesh, flesh from bone, his wings removed from his body by his own hands, he only turned into a monster. a snarling rabid beast.

the memory of hunter running his hands along the scars on his back crosses his mind. 'how did this happen?' the rabbit asks, he had never answered, it's not that hunter wouldn't understand, more than anyone else he would, but it's that he still felt shame- he still wanted to be more than...

more than a pet bird.

he had seen a beautiful girl once; from afar, a long time ago, rabbit ears on her head, a tail behind. hair and fur like acorn brown silk, soft and warm, eyes deep, dark shades of a midnight hue of brown.

and just when he finds himself starting to get lost in them, he feels his mistress' heels click on the floor, and he stands upright again, looking to her with a practised 'loving' smile, but his eyes were empty as he stares at the woman.

she runs hands along the white dove-like wings he once had, that he swears he can still feel burning in pain, and he tells her every sweet nothing she wants to hear.

his mistress.

he was below even a doormat.

today that beautiful 'girl' had sat before him again, now a boy he feels hopelessly in love (?) with. his hair and eyes as beautiful as he remembers, now close he can look at every freckle on his face, like stars to the dark sky in his eyes, he has piercings and tattoos now, and on his body septimus could trace a thousand scars with a thousand stories.

some like his, some by him, some for other reasons.

but he can't take what he dishes, unending adoration, unconditional love- from him, sick and twisted, but from him... like sun rays kissing his skin.

the scars on his back burn.

vomit sits below his face, cast out like the feelings he was not worthy of, that he didn’t deserve to experience. the disgusting taste covers his mouth, and the acid makes his throat burn, he lets out a groan as he stares at it in disgust for a few seconds before going to wash his face.

cold water makes his face numb, but he still feels the nails he drags across his face.

he hates how his body rejects normality.

but no matter how much hate he bears, no matter the tears he sheds, no matter the blood he draws out of himself, it’s never enough to cleanse him of that instinct to destroy; to hurt.

there's a knock at the door as he bites into the skin of his arm, hunter’s voice rings out, “are you okay?” he asks, distress in his voice, “i heard gagging?” and septimus only glares at the door as he doesn't answer, a familiar liquid warmth running down his arm, iron taste in his mouth.

then, there’s a long silence, a silence where septimus feels the way tears try and pour out of his face, and how his breathing tightens further, choking silently with his hatred of himself, his weakness, silently suffocating any of the tears that he may have shed.

“i…” the voice is quiet, septimus thinks that hunter is leaning against the door now with how his voice is muffled, “i’m worried. i.... care about you, okay?" a pause, he cringes at it, he feels like hes being lied to- that's why there's that pause, if it were truth it would simply come out, "can you let me in?” he asks, and septimus feels the shaky breath he lets out, panic makes his skin feel as if pins dig into it, he hits the wall with his uninjured fist.

a nervous smile crawls onto his face as he feels his chest rise and fall faster and faster, “and i don’t. only love you for the blood you spill, fucking leave.” he says a fearful chuckle escaping him.

his body burns with adrenaline. fear, anxiety, and hatred, all in one disgusting mixed concoction. he hears the slow- and then fast footsteps as hunter walks away, the closing of the door, and when he does he pulls his head back slowly and suddenly, harshly, bangs it against the door.

surely, it was hard enough to leave a bruise.

and as the pain on his head pulses he slumps down, his tears and hyperventilated breaths finally coming out, like a waterfall, a wash of relief over him, the stabbing of hatred and guilt piercing his heart.

and then he hits his head against the door again. and again. and again. and he continues doing so until his breathing calms down.

unholy mind and body joined together, the twisting of a dove, the beast he is now doesn't deserve love like what hunter wishes to give him- it’s better to hurt himself than to let him ‘love’. put your hands inside the cage and you know what you’re gonna get, to get your fingers torn from that is a question of one’s own stupidity, a stupidity that was like a grace to him, but to open the cage was too reckless, even the beast knew that.

the hunger for what he doesn’t deserve makes him feel almost insane, despite his knowledge that he only feeds and does not reciprocate.

regret does make him feel insane, however.

the knowledge he hurt hunter is something he's not surprised by at all, and yet still wishes would not happen, but beak and claws do not love like mouths and hands, an animal like him just wasn’t made for love.

you cannot do something over and over and expect a different result.

#original whump #whump #pet whump #fantasy whump #carewhumper #intimate whumper #whump writers #[mentally insane freakish gay person voice] my favourite ocs! hunter and septimus <333 i love them #not favourite favourite but i do love them an abnormal amount #hunter going omg i love this man hes the most beauitful man ever #and then next sentence saying he has holes in his wall and trash on th efloor is so funny to me #baby..... get better. get well. god #if its not clear.#hunter goes to see septimus willingly and this entire... Thing was consentual.#:/ gay people are awful <- is gay #on the other hand. septimus knows he only comes to get hurt by him #“its all he knows” whatever whatever gay boy go back to twinking you slug #and the whole. thing he has with hurting people is also because he doesnt know how to do normal intimacy #he was a romantic so he doesnt exactly have an idea of how sex is normally supposed to go #and either way it also makes him very uncomfortable and disgusted unless if hes In Control and hurting the other person #and not in a regular kinky way #and hunter just. this is also all he knows. he takes comfort in being hurt like this because at least its familiar #this isnt mentioning the fact he Does get a boyfriend who is. quite normal in how he treats him #but is also... abusive. like he doesnt get treated like This but its still abusive and since its Unfamiliar Abuse it really affects hunter #this is also a custom bbu universe #uhhh. here the 'pets' are genetically modified to look however the buyer wants them to look like #so hunter does actually have rabbit features and septimus used to have white hair and wings and was supposed to look like an angel #that is. before he tore his wings off and started dying his hair #i have so much more story for these 2 btw #their ocs from like... 2020

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noko444 · 10 months

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is yaoi the one with women or men

both, if u can handle it

#hi anon idk where u came from..but id just like to say...all yaoi is beauitful..no matter if its two boys..girls...or girlboy x boygirl

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lewinskylewinsky9 · 2 years

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Til The End of Time

#collage #photoshop #painting #drawing #art #edit #aestethic #creative #poster #cover #design #boy #beauitful #photo #plstic #style

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megoap · 1 year

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fuckkkkkkkkkkkking Alois ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

#alois trancy #my art #kuroshitsuji #black butler #Black Butler II #my beauitful beauitufl bitchy brat boy

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ohdeersthings · 1 year

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Hear Me

Neteyam x Metkayina!F!Deaf!Reader

Summary: Neteyam thought you were the most beauitful thing in the world, yet you never seemed to respond to him.

Warning: Reader is Deaf!, Fluff, Angst (went you squint)

*not my best work, I've just had this in my head for the last few days and needed to get some form of it out*

When you had been born, the first child of Tonowari and Ronal, a great celebration had been held. They sang songs of what you would accomplish in the future, praised your name to Eywa for a blessing of a child. It didn't take long for your parents to notice you were, different.

You never reacted when someone approached or called your name. You never flinched from loud noises, only when something jumped out or you turned to suddenly see something you didn't know.

Your speech was different too, only able to make simple noises than actually talk. Able to communicate through the Clans Sign Language, but never completely with words.

Ronal prayed to Eywa for an answer, visiting the Spirit Tree to seek help. Only for a vision of silence to flash behind her eyes when she had made the connection to the tree.

You were deaf. Eywa blessed you with many things, beauty, grace, compassion and kindness.

But not the ability to hear.

Never able to hear the beautiful songs of the Tulkun, never to sing in tune with your brothers and sisters, yet you were an amazing dancer.

It took many months and years of everyday practice and routine for you and your clan to adjust to you. What you lacked in hearing, you made up in sight and touch.

You could feel the slightest change in area, quick to take others down with a elegance to it that had many young Na'vi boys swooning. You could feel the vibrations in the sand, the netting, the water. Able to change course and react before something happens.

When the day of the Sully's arrival had happened, you had been out on the Ilus with your sister, Tsireya. You lounged in the water, eyes closed as you felt the waves caress your body before shadows flashed your eyelids, eyes opening to see five Ikran's flying overhead to the main village.

Reya motioned for your attention, your eyes meeting her figure as she signed to you, 'We must hurry, they've signaled an arrival'

You nodded, connecting with your Ilu and both of you racing to the beach front. Exiting the water, you noticed six dark blue Na'vi standing there.

Reya seemed to have caught the attention of the second oldest son, his eyes quickly averting from her figure. You smiled, nudging her slightly as you made your way through the crowd that had gathered.

Many men and boys quickly moved aside for you, a smile in return you graced them.

Your brother Ao'nung had been pointing at them with a cocky smirk on his face, his friend Rotxo laughing along. Although, you could only tell he was laughing from the way his shoulders and diaphragm moved.

Feeling that it was something bad being said, you went between the both of them, slapping the sides of their arms as a warning. Reya had also slapped them, both boys quickly stopping their verbal assault.

You made eye contact with the oldest boy, a Na'vi around your age. His eyes were so bright, you could see the flecks of gold against the yellow. He made a gesture of hello, you smiling and slightly nodding your head in acknowledgement.

Your Father's sudden appearance beside you made you slightly jump, too caught up in the boy to notice the sand shifting beside you.

Meeting his face, his eyes read for you to back up so you did, your Mother soon making her way to the crowd aswell.

You could only watch as the exchange happened, the father of the other group seeming to plead with your own father. Ronal poked and prodded at the family, pulling the second sons hands into the air to show his five fingers.

Looking to Reya for help, she simply signed, 'They seek to stay, wanting refuge with us' causing you to become confused, your eyes narrowing toward the group. What could be happening that forest Na'vi come here of all places?

Seeing your father and mother start to dismiss them, you reached out for your fathers arm, his eyes snapping to you, your Mother also looking intently as you signed one thing.

'Help' and gestured to the family.

Your parents made eye contact, seeming to understand. They turned back to the other family, nodding and exchanging words before addressing the rest of the clan.

Your Father gestured to your siblings, his hand coming onto your shoulders as you assumed he introduced you. You smiled, slightly bowing your head in greeting.

Your brother of course didn't like whatever was being said, stepping forward to speak out but your father quickly shut him down.

'Show them the way' he told you, Reya grabbing your hand and leading the family away.

You glided next to your sister it seemed, your eyes casting out to the open blue water, the air gently touching your cheeks as the wind blew. Neteyam wondered about you.

You haven't said anything, yet you and your family communicated using, hands? It confused him, water Na'vi. Tsireya had explained to them how and when things would happen, she was the only one talking to them out of the pair of siblings.

Maybe you were just being nice? Nice hello gesture and that's it? You wouldn't talk to them, would look at them. We're you freaked out of their "Demon Blood"? Was being a different type of Na'vi really that off putting?

"Here we are, I hope its to your liking," Tsireya smiled, stopping at the new home of the Sullys, you accidently bumping into her as you hadn't been watching where you were going. You laughed silently, a hand on her back as an apology.

"Lessons begin this afternoon! I hope you all settle quickly," Tsireya bid goodbye, taking your hand and motioning for you to follow. You waved goodbye to the family and followed your younger sister, both of you a vision of beauty in the sunlight.

~.~

You had already been down in the water when you felt the splashes nearby, turning to see your siblings and Rotxo dive in, swimming over to you. You greeted them, looking past to see the Forest Na'vi trying to follow but kept going up to the surface.

The four of you were confused so you followed them up, motioning to them confused. They began to talk, but you waved your hands, unable to hear them.

Tsireya came up, asking for you aloud what was wrong and why they weren't just breathing.

The youngest sibling, a little girl, struggled to keep up so you took it upon yourself to help steady her in the water, the oldest boy watching you closely with Tuk.

Tuk began to thank you, your eyes meeting Rotxo who was closer, 'Tuk says thank you,' you smiled at the girl as Rotxo told her she was welcome. Tuk and Neteyam looked at eachother, both confused on why you wouldn't answer yourself.

Neteyam and Lo'ak had told them they didn't understand anything they were doing. "What is this...finger, hand motion thing you guys do? We have no clue, yet you always speak it, especially with her," Gesturing to you who was spinning Tuk in a circle in the water, the youngest one laughing in joy. You didn't acknowledge them, even though you were the center of the conversation now.

"Don't bring her into this," Ao'nung growled, teething baring. "I will teach you, as will (Y/n), believe me, you'll learn it quick with her," Tsireya assured, splashing water at you to gain attention.

You stopped, Tuk giggling as you turned to face them. Eyes dashing at each of the siblings, they all just stared making you nervous. Did you miss something important? Were you supposed to say something?

Ao'nung waved you off with a soft smile, making you return it. Your Father appeared on the shoreline, waving his hand to signal for you.

Letting out a yell in acknowledgement, you handed Tuk off to Neteyam. His eyes stayed trained on you as you swam off, your body cutting through the water like a sharp knife, but yet it didn't disturb the water. The water seemed to bend around your body.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Tsireya asked, smiling at Neteyam, "yeah," he trailed off before realizing what he just said outloud. "I mean, for a water Na'vi," he added quickly, Kiri rolling her eyes at her stupid brother.

'Morons, all of them,' she thought.

"So why doesn't she respond?" Lo'ak asked, his eyebrows contorting in confusion.

Ao'nung and Tsireya shared a look, Rotxo simply shaking his head.

"That is not our information to share, but please be patient with her," Tsireya pleaded, her big eyes making Lo'ak melt, "she is very bright and smart, but please, just be patient as you learn more about her,"

The Sully siblings looked at eachother before confirming with a nod to the water Na'vi.

~.~

Neteyam stared at you from a distance, you currently teaching some of the younger children how to dance. The way your hands moved, elegantly and flowing, like water. A smile on your face, eyes focusing on a child who grabbed your attention, their hands moving. You did it back, again, no verbal reply.

"Is there a reason you're staring at the Olo'eyktan's daughter?" His father gained Neteyam's attention back, his eyes wide. "I wasn't staring at her," Neteyam replied, looking back down at the fish they were currently gutting and cleaning for dinner.

"I mean I can see why, your age, beautiful, good with kids, anything else you wanna add?" Jake joked, Neteyam feeling his face get warm. "He hasn't said a word to her," Kiri chirped, Neteyam glaring with sharp eyes, his teeth bared in warning.

"Oh? Now you're telling me my oldest son can't talk to a girl?" Jake pressured, Neytiri sending him a look, a look to tread lightly.

"Its not that, it's that she never responds," Neteyam clarified, but he knew it really was because he was worried to talk to her.

"That's cause she's-" Neytiri slapped a hand over her mates mouth, her eyes basically shutting him up.

"She's to tell them, not you," Neytiri warned, Jake nodding, Neytiri releasing him.

~.~

At the clans dinner, many banged drums and danced to the beat. Chanting and singing drawled out into the night sky, footsteps marking in the sand by a large bonfire.

At the center of it was you, your head bobbing as you felt the vibrations through the sand, your feet and your spirit. Tsireya beside you as you guided her through the movements, her eyes suddenly catching the oldest son, turning you toward him and motioning for you to grab him.

You did just that, teething gleaming from a smile as you grabbed his hand, gesturing for him to come dance. "No thanks," he tried, but you just pulled him up and dragged him out to the sand.

"No, (Y/n), I don't dance!" He tried to explain but you just carried on, smiling and waving at him to join. He was soon grabbed by other Na'vi who had started a dance circle, hands and arms linked as they jumped and chanted. You laughed, a weird chortle but Neteyam could only grin back.

When the ceremonies had started to die down, you grabbed his hand and gestured him to follow, his eyes trying to find his family to see if they were watching him slip away.

"So where are we going?" He questioned, of course you didn't hear, you just kept running through the bushes, leading him somewhere special.

"Is there a reason you never respond?" He tried again, still nothing.

Finally having enough of a one way conversation, he grabbed your hand, stopping the movement going forward. You turned, face showing confusion.

"Where are we going?" He annunciated slowly, you waving your hands, pointing to your ears.

"What? If you're listening then reply," he urged, frustration growing. You hummed, trying again.

'I can't hear you,' you signed, but he only groaned, eyes rolling. "What are you saying," he growled, angry at himself and you. This was all so annoying.

You took his hands, placing them on your ears and pushing them down. "What you don't wanna listen? Don't wanna hear?" He raided an eyebrow, you looking at him with a quirked eyebrow, hinting at something.

He just shrugged, so you placed your hands on his ears, smashing them down. "Ow! Now I can't hear-" it dawned on him, mouth dropping open as his eyes stared into yours.

All this time you hadn't meant to ignore or be rude. You were oblivious or an airhead. You just couldn't hear. He grabbed your hands softly, bringing them off his head and holding them close to his chest as you both stared at each other.

'Understand?' You signed, Neteyam still struggling to figure out all the signs your clan had but nodded slowly, almost like he knew what you did say.

"You can't hear? Nothing?" You had learned to read lips a little over the years so you briefly nodded, Neteyam looking at you in a different light.

He'd always thought you were beautiful to begin with. Your smile alone could distract him, make him weak in the knees. The way you cared for your clan and his family even, made him feel warm inside. Of course, not many words were expressed between you two, but he couldn't help an attraction, a pull almost, towards you.

You could say the same. His strength that was displayed everyday was very invigorating, his protectiveness over his family made you feel safe as well. The way he seemed to go with the flow even if he didn't want to reminded you of water. The softness of his hands squeezing yours brought you out of your day dream.

He smiled at you, your eyes bright with warmth as he allowed you to continue the way you had been trying to go moments before.

Coming to a open pool of water, hundreds of jelly like fish swam. All glowing bright, iridescent colors.

Neteyam looked around in awe, turning to you in amazement as you let out a chortle, him finding it the most beautiful sound ever.

He watched the way your skin glowed in the light of the fish, your eyes reflecting both the light and the night sky. 'Beautiful' he signed, one thing he did remember from Tsireyas instruction earlier.

You felt your face grow warm, suddenly bashful under his gaze as you looked downward. Many boys had told you you were pretty, but hearing it from Neteyam, a boy from another clan. Someone who had just stayed learning your ways was different. It made you feel nervous, yet excited.

He reached his hand out, cupping your chin to make your eyes met again. "Don't hide from me," he grinned, you not hearing his words but felt the love behind them from his hand on your face that you leaned into as it moves up to your cheek, cradling you softly.

"I know you can't hear me," he let go of your face, his turning inward as he tried to remember everything Tsireya taught him earlier. "I see you, (Y/n)" he gestured, you suddenly beaming as you titled your head giddy like.

"I see you, Neteyam," you signed back, his arm coming around you to pull you in close. Maybe you couldn't hear his words, but you sure did feel them.

#avatar: the way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar #atwow imagines #atwow fanfiction #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyamxdeafreader #deaf reader #neteyam x oc

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sassitls · 6 months

Text

FRAGARIA MEMORIES: BLUE BOUQUET | BLACK BOUQUET | RED BOUQUET

With that we're wrapping up another beautiful set of beauitful boys. Definitely like the aesthetic of this batch! Do you have any favorites?

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earthtoharlow · 1 year

Text

Last Part of this AU, thank you guys for loving this so much! It’s been fun!

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERVIOUS

VOGUEMAGAZIINE

liked by cozane, ziongisele, urbanwyatt, druski, nemoachide, arithedon, and 10,679,289 others

voguemagazine: @jackharlow has found happily ever after!

For Vogue’s April issue, Jack Harlow & Stacey James candidly open up about the good, the bad, and the beauitful parts of their whirlwind romance. “One night I asked him the dreaded question no one likes to ask, “What are we? We’re perefct for each other? Why aren’t we together?” And he was like “This really awkard. I have to go.”

Tap the link in our bio for the full profile. Photographed by @urbanwyatt

view all 222,916 comments

user: um????

user: please tell them this is a sick joke

druski: thanks for the invite! 🙄

user: imagine asking a guy that and he RUNS away!!

SZA: lol

user: no way, poor Y/N

user: He was just with Y/N 4 months ago!! The aduacity

summerwalker: the nerve of men

THESHADEROOM

Liked by 30,745 users

theshaderoom: uh oh! Roommates, Y/N seemingly deactivates her Twitter and Instagram accounts after ex man Jack Harlow pops up married to mistress Stacey James, 4 months after he cheated again and begged her for forgiveness! (See previous posts)

view all 5,793 comments

user: Jack has really shown his ass these past two years

user: praying for y/n cause whewwwwww

user: she needs to get over it, that man didn’t want her

user: stacey prettier anyway

user: it’s one thing to have a baby on her but to marry the bitch too??? His momma need to whoop his ass

THATGIRLSTACEY

liked by neelamthadhani, jackharlow, cozane, nemoachida, kimkardashian, goldenbarbie, jaydacheavs and 478,799 others

thatgirlstacey: happy birthday to my beautiful husband and baby daddy! You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met. There’s no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. Willow & I are so lucky to have you in our life

user: the best couple!

user: girl he probably cheating on you

user: goals

neelamthadhani: Aw love you guys

user: y/n better

kimkardashian: can’t wait to celebrate tonight 💋

user: why was Jack seen without his ring recently 👁️👄👁️

thatgirlstacey: not that it’s any of your business but it’s because he was getting it cleaned. Y’all y/n stans are almost as pathetic as she is

user: y/n has been off the internet for over a year now and you still talking shit??? You weird as hell

user: haaaa drag that hoe

user: you got the man, why continue to mention his ex

THESHADEROOM

liked by 856,037 users

theshaderoom: whew chileee! #JackHarlow did not hold back when asked about his ex Y/N Y/L reportedly dating his very good friend, and collaborator #Drake! If you recall Harlow and Y/N were dating for 2 years before Jack cheated and had a baby with now wife, #StaceyJames.

While on The Breakfast Club, Jack went on to say that he has no respect for women that date their ex’s friends. “I don’t want to slut shame but no self respecting woman homie hops. It’s disgusting but you know, b*tches are weird these days”

When asked if he’s spoken to Drake since the news dropped he says “No, and I really don’t have anything to say, he’s just as bad as she is. We were boys, you just don’t do that. But it’s whatever, I’m happy she’s out my hands though.”

What ya’ll think about his response, #Roomies?!

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user: oh someone needs to kicked his ass

user: what’s wrong with homie hopping?

user: two years ago he would’ve beat someone’s ass for speaking on y/n like this

user: oh so now she’s weird because she don’t want him anymore

user: he’s right? 🤷‍♀️

user: why he caling her all these different types of bitches? has he lost his mind

user: he needs to watch his mouth, he know Drake got mob ties

YOURINSTA

Liked by SZA, summerwalker, cardib, latto777, chloebailey, champagnepapi, druski, Keke, and 993,016 others

yourinsta: Let’s make one thing clear. I’ll homie hop, sibling hop whatever don’t care. I’ll fuck your opps, it does not matter. Maybe they’re my soulmate and the universe brought you to me to introduce us.

Now, back to being a new mother and writing new music 💋

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user: omg!!!!

user: now how clayborn get into this

user: this is crazy but I’m so happy my queen is back

user: wait

claybornharlow: 😳😟

user: NEW MOTHER??!!!!

user: you’re a mom?!!!

SZA: I love you boo! I’m coming to visit soon, I have gifts for my god daughter 😍

user: you betta drag that wispy cloud

theestallion: HOTTIE 🥵

CHAMPAGNEPAPI

liked by justinbieber, yaonlylivvonce, urbanwyatt, normani, saweetie, rubirose, yourinsta and 1,657,035 others

champagnepapi: a lot of you boys wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me so don't forget to wish me a happy fathers day June 18th.

comments on this post have been limited

icespice: 😍

yourinsta: papi 💋

tinashenow: sheesh

druski: I know my boy throwing up right now

NickiMinaj: look at my baby 😍😍

urbanwyatt: 🥴

Thank you to my sweet sweet anon who gave me the idea of reader going ghost and getting pregnant ;) i changed some things around tho but thank you love

Tag List:

(message me if you'd like to be added)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @toocriticalharlow @macey234 @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @xxkoolkatxx

NEXT PART

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow reader #social media au #jack harlow instagram au #jack harlow social media au

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thewritersaddictions · 7 months

Text

Day Four: Soldier Boy + Prostitution

Your thighs slide down the pole in the center of the stage. Your heart beats as you look out into the crowd. Men young and old are all staring at you. You're only covered by frilly little green lace number, and high heels that make your ankles burn.

The music is never ending. Sounds that play on repeat almost everynight your on the stage. Nothing is better then the feeling of a man slipping a twenty into the band of thin little panties. Song play after song, and then you see him. You've already caught his eye long before you saw him. You know this face but from where you aren't sure yet. You can't see great on the stage from the bright lights, but you see him wave something in his hands.

The songs ends and you take a graceful exist off the stage. A friend of yours comes out of stage and the crowd goes wild just they did for you. " 'Jade' look here." Your manager catches your attention. Leading you towards the man that had caught your attention. " 'Jade' this is Soldier Boy, you know who he's with right?" Your manaer asks, you nod slightly.

"It's alright if she doesn't, is she open for a lap dance?" Your manager smiles slighty, "Of course anything for you Solide Boy." You walk in front of him, and into a private room. "Soldier Boy?" You ask, "The names Ben, and the rules they don't apply to me." He smirks touching my arms as soon as I shut the curtain. I swallow hard, normally I would be agasint touhching me becuase it's the rule, but something about him is drawing me in closer.

He sets the wad of cash on the drink table. My eyes follow he shuckles, "It's about eight fifity there, so I assume that it will be enough." Ben mutters his grip still strong on my wrist. I only nod.

He drags me into his lap, my pussy laying right ontop of his buldging jeans. Rough fabric against my soft skin. "Your so beauitful you know that." He mutters as his hands squeeze my ass and grind me up his bludge. "Tell me 'Jade', is that what you want me to call you while I'm fucking you?" His words make you melt into him. You shake your head, "My name… my name is uh Y/n. Call me Y/n please." You beg him, he nods a satisifed look on his face.

"Alright Y/n." He likes how your name taste on his lips, and tongue. He leans in and kisses your softly which you aren't excepting. His hands squeeze your ass and grind you harder agasint his cock. Eveything is like a fever dream, the way his lips feel and how he moans into your kisses.

You try to keep your moans quiet and low, but it's harder then you think espically when one hand is playing with your covered clit. Soaking your through your thin panites and making a mess of his jeans. "So wet!" "Are you always this wet for all the other guys?" He asks you nose to nose as he contiues to play with your clit. You manage to shake your head, "Words sweetheart." "No Ben, nobody makes me this wet." You mutter out between breathy moans. "Good" He stops his moments and then suddenlt pushes your futher on his legs keeping your balnaced while he unzips of jeans and barely pulls his cock out.

He's huge, much bigger then any guy you've dated. Or any guy here who's tried to touch you here. You can't help but stare, "It'll fit babygirl don't you worry." Ben assure you, slipping you back over his cock. Sheer, wet panties running agasint his sesnitive cock, he moans and throws his head back. You love the feeling of his cock as it nudges ever so slightly agasint your clit. Biting hard down on your lip. He's so gentle it almost hurts, it burns when he finally nudges the tip of his cock into your cunt.

You moan together. Ben at how tight you feel around his cock, and you at how full you somehow feel. "So tight and warm babygirl." He murmurs into your ear. It's aboslute heaven when he bottoms out, tip of his cock hitting your cervix perfectly.

From that point on you saw nobody but Ben, and Ben saw nobody but you.

Completed on: 06/06/23

Posted on: 10/04/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

The Boys Master List // The Anti-Hero Master List // Kinktober '23

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spockandawe · 3 months

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Okay, I think I'm ready to start chewing on and articulating some Peerless/Wushuang thoughts at least, because I'm deep in the parts of the book where this starts becoming more relevant.

Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu are VERY alike. This is an asshole4asshole relationship, they're both leading secret police bureaus, they're both ruthless and calculating and VERY smart. But they're also so different in some crucial ways. Yeah, Feng Xiao is one of the strongest martial artists alive, while Cui Buqu's health is so fragile that everyone is amazed he's still alive, which is delightful, but i do think the differences in personality are even more more interesting

Like, a thing I've said before (maybe not on here?) is that one of the things that makes Yan Wushi so compelling despite being such a jackass is that he's VERY true to himself, in a considered, deliberate, intelligent way. Part of what drives him to try to break Shen Qiao is his conviction that everyone who clings to ethics and morality is just putting on a self-serving facade and it won't take much hardship to shatter that. Feng Xiao doesn't have an internal conviction like that driving him, or, he sort of does. But his core driving force is pure unadulterated self-love.

Feng Xiao has lived his life with perfect cheerful conviction that Feng Xiao is the most beauitful, most capable, most clever boy in the whole world. Now. It doesn't take long for him to become VERY wary of Cui Buqu's intelligence, but the personal vanity doesn't falter. It's a delight to read, someone trying to suck up to him sends him the most beautiful woman he's ever seen trying to curry favor, and Feng Xiao has her clean his room. He's literally like 'buddy. pal. why would i sleep with someone less beautiful than i am?' He's capable of schemes and plotting, but when it comes to personality, he is a CHEERFULLY open reflection of his own inner self however rancid that inner self is lmao

Cui Buqu on the other hand. MY GOD. The man literally starts the book acting a fabricated role. This won't have been spoilers if you read the book summary, but Cui Buqu has a whole city convinced that he's a perfectly benevolent, kind, generous daoist priest, and meanwhile. When it comes to a contest of who's the most ruthless in this book, between Feng Xiao and Cui Buqu, i think Cui Buqu handily wins! Even once that initial act is peeled away, Cui Buqu has layers and LAYERS. Mister onion ogre man. The author even calls him out for being like this in the notes. It's extremely funny, but also makes for a delightful slow burn in terms of relationship development, it's very rewarding to read.

But as i do that actual reading now, I'm really taken by how subtly that tension between them really enriches the surrounding story. The arc I'm in now involves Cui Buqu's backstory, and he's simultaneously being revealed to be more vicious and more gentle than the prior story suggested. This is DEFINITELY weighted more towards the viciousness than gentleness, but without spoilers, that really makes the moments when he chooses to be kind hit so, so hard! And while Feng Xiao is strong, he's always been openly and bluntly strong, the way more and more of Cui Buqu is gradually brought to light underscores the depth and nature of HIS strength.

Both of these men are very beloved by their subordinates, so the story communicates well that they have good points, but it's fascinating how Cui Buqu's are revealed to readers by patiently peeling those layers away, while Feng Xiao, someone much more open, but with a very demanding personality, is rounded out in large part thanks to those reveals from Cui Buqu, and the way he reacts and how his behavior modifies.

Is that coherent? I can't tell anymore. But the depth of meng xi shi's character writing is something fascinating to me, and Peerless and Thousand Autumns give a LOT of narrative attention to who their main characters are, and the different seemingly-contradictory layers of characters like Yan Wushi and Cui Buqu. Shen Qiao and Feng Xiao are fascinating in the sense of however far down you dig, what you see is what you get, lmao. But the nuance and elaboration within that space, which might seem restrictive, still makes for a FASCINATING character, and a very engaging read

#peerless #wushuang #fengcui #feng xiao #cui buqu

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