#my betas enjoy themselves and I have to indulge them :p

[primordialsquirrel]

Tenya Iida : Reacting to Hitting his Crush in the Face

A/N: As requested by @coleluuviida​ ^^ 

Beta Note // Reader’s quirk is Pigeon, but my fellow beta and her sister thought Pigeon Vision sounded cute so 👀 its in there 👀 

Iida was with Izuku and Uraraka when the worst had happened

One moment he was conversing about the intricacies of hero and sidekick relationships, and the next he was frozen in horror staring at his hand

Why?

Iida slapped you right in the face as his gesturing grew rapid

He didn't notice until it was too late that his arm arched far too wide and slammed directly onto your nose

What's worse?

Iida didn't even realize it was you that he hit until he turned to apologize

Even worse than that?

He didn't utter a single word

He was frozen as he looked at you though his peripheral vision, his hand still in the air as he saw you knocked onto the ground

Granted, he didn't hit you that hard, but with your quirk altering the density and weight of your bones, you were practically weightless and easy to toss around

Which meant he slapped you to the cold, cruel floor

Unluckily, his class along with the support course were headed to Ground Omega to do tests on new inventions your class had made

You just so happened to be the one who was in charge of altering his suit to better aid him in battles

But fortunately for him, you were the forgiving type

Despite his heart feeling full of guilt over hitting you, you let him off the hook after he agreed to buy you food

Iida stares at his hand with an almost hateful expression, a look of utter betrayal. He couldn't turn around to face you, how could he?! He just hit you! You! Of all people!

Uraraka was doubled over in laughter, her hand clamped over her mouth as she gasped for air. “I’m sorry for laughing!” She walks around her friend and helps you up right as Hatsume walks by.

The pink haired girl looks at you with a faint trace of worry in her tone. “Are you good?” She questions, her hands busy pushing a cart full of equipment Iida didn't know half of what they were. What student was she paired with to need that many gadgets? 

He hears you make a light noise of discomfort before laughing. “Yeah I’m good. Let's get going.”

Iida keeps his head ducked, refusing to look to the side to see if you were glaring at him. His face was flushed pink, his body shaking as his classmates caught up to the doors leading to the Grounds. Midoriya, bless his soul, hadn't said anything. But he was starting to feel like it was because he was just as frozen as Iida himself.

Ignoring the questions of his classmates that had finally followed behind, Iida directs them all into Ground Omega before going to his own section of the forest area. He pulls on his helmet and stretches his legs, preparing himself for his training with his new gear, but his head was still in the clouds.

You were on his mind. It was terribly rude of him to have a girl constantly on his mind, but you were so.. So sweet and kind hearted. He had met you when he had broken his helmet and had been able to speak with you as you fixed it.

You humored him when he talked about his costume, questions he knew you likely were asked constantly, but you treated him with patience. And when he asked about your goals for the future, your face lit up with such a warm expression. It didn't help that with your quirk, you were given bird-like qualities, such as soft feathers that fluffed up when you grew excited. When talking about creating new support items for heroes, you were something else. He found your passion infectious, and it only made him train himself harder. Which in turn led him visiting the support class more often for repairs.

In the time that he had visited you, he found himself growing fond of you. Dare he say it, he had a crush. And it was bad.

“There you are!” He freezes as he hears your voice approaching.

Iida looks right at you, his eyes wide under his helmet. You had a small bruise forming on your face, something he knew would heal itself soon, but he couldn't help but feel awful knowing it was him who caused it.

“I’m here.” He says in a quiet voice. “Forgive me for hitting you. I’m ashamed of my actions. I bring dishonor to the Iida family” He bows at the waist, but soon he turns his head away to keep from making direct eye contact. It was the least you deserved, but he couldn't bring himself to look at you.

“I wouldn't go that far.” You whisper under your breath. “Don't worry about it.” You leap into the air and land on a low tree branch, settling comfortably among the leaves. “I know you didn't do it on purpose. You'd think with my pigeon vision I would have been able to dodge you in the first place.”

Pigeon vision?

He holds in a small noise of distress. Peering at you from his spot below, he doesn't realize as he moves his hand over his heart at the sight of your smile.

“Get it? Because my quirk is Pigeon?” You wave a hand over your face. The feathers of your hair fluff up, lifting as a small breeze moves through the trees. “You just happened to be in my blind spot, no biggie.”

“Ah, I see. Well. I’m sorry.” He straightens and draws a starting line using marking chalk. He glances at you once more before starting his training. It doesn't take long for you to get into the rhythm of note taking and making small adjustments to his suit between runs.

“You know, if you really want to apologize to me, you could buy me a muffin from Lunchrush.”

“What?” He asks as he skids to a stop, the ground beneath him now upturned as the grass was worn away. Did he miss part of a conversation when he went running to the other side?

You flash him a grin and poke him on the chest with your pen. “Buy me a muffin and I’ll forgive you.” You must have known he was still feeling terrible about hitting you.. Were you worried for him? “How about it?”

Iida was grateful for his helmet as he agreed to your terms.

[yumeyooa]

under the full moon | k.nj

—in which only the moon is a witness to the forbidden love you and namjoon share

➢ pairing: kim namjoon x gender neutral! reader

➢ genre: fluff | slight angst | supernatural au | enemies to lovers au | forbidden love au | rated pg | vampire! reader | werewolf! namjoon

➢ word count: 2.8k+

➢  warnings: use of they/them pronouns | discrimination | mentions of blood

➢ love letter: i FORGOT i had this in my drafts BHSWBJDHD but anyways enjoy this self indulgent namjoon fic i made weeks ago when i was binging white blood <33 

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The full moon was ablaze tonight, high up in the dark sky, looming over the vast land as if it were waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Its light shone down eerily on the earth, and any sane person would know that being out this late at night would only get themselves killed.

It was the night where the supernatural creatures that hid amongst the dark came out to play, after all.

With the moonlight feeding their magical energy, the night where it shone brightest was always a day they looked forward to. A day, where for once in their lives, they could relive those moments before humanity became a threat to their existence. Where they could roam around like the proud, majestic beings they once were or at least are.

Except in these times, freedom was very much far from reality.

The council of wolves was bustling with energy that same night, gathered in a club owned by the Kim Pack. On the night of the full moon, where their power was incredibly potent, they could only gather together, waiting for the perfect moment to attack or defend themselves from the vampires.

Ah yes, the very reason why the supernatural realm was abuzz and chaotic. After the surprising death of the vampire king, they had appointed a new leader. Frankly, no one aside from the vampires themselves understood their succession process. From what they could gather, though, it was a gruesome and rigorous battle where only the most powerful can claim the throne.

Yet, the new monarch of the vampires was in all ways unpredictable, holding no care for the centuries-old treaties that were in place to maintain the peace within the supernatural order. Instead, they did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, causing copious amounts of stress for the other tribes and species.

And that new monarch was you, (L/N) (Y/N), the tyrant.

"Alpha," A voice calls, snapping Namjoon, who had been thinking to himself this entire time, out of his trance. The said wolf looks up, only to come face to face with his best friend and right-hand man since time eternal, a beta from his pack, Seokjin. "The packs are getting restless. The vampires have gone too far. We need to do something about it."

"Indeed!" A voice exclaims, shooting up from his seat while he viciously snarls. Jungkook, Namjoon thinks to himself. Soon to be the alpha of the Jeon Pack. "Those damned wenches have done enough! They've already stolen our food supply and trespassed our territory on multiple occasions. We cannot let this pass by. We must act now!"

Choruses of agreement echo throughout the hall as Namjoon rubs his temples in frustration, the noise ringing in his ears. But just before he could get his disappointment across, the door opens, and Yoongi, a rogue and Namjoon's most trusted spy from the ancient pack of Min, storms in, bruised and panicked.

"The vampires have attacked the borders," he says, panting as he leans on Hoseok, his best friend. "There were no casualties, but multiple packs have been robbed." Gasps echo throughout the room, and all the more do the council of wolves cause an uproar, demanding their alpha to go to war.

"We shouldn't be accepting this treachery! It is a shame to our kind!"

"We must fight back, show those vampires what we wolves are capable of."

"How long must our kind suffer before we finally take action, alpha? When will enough be en—"

"Enough!" Namjoon exclaims, using his inner voice to silence the room. He stands up, towering over the dozens of wolves inside with him, who back down at his presence, overwhelmed.

"I shall handle this, myself," is all he says as he makes his way to the entrance, much to the surprise and shock of everyone in the room. "What?" Seokjin exclaims, eyes wide in shock. "Namjoon, are you serious right now? It's too reckless to go there all alone. What if something happens to you?" Shortly after, small echoes of protest begin to circulate, each member presenting their concerns for the alpha.

But it only takes one harsh look from him for them to settle back down, looking at anywhere they possibly could but his eyes. He was the alpha of all alphas, after all. He wasn't someone to be easily overpowered.

"Do not make me repeat myself," he says, stern, eyes glaring into the souls of the other wolves in the room. "I will handle it. Do I make myself clear?"

No one goes against him this time, watching with worried eyes as he takes his leave, heading straight to the vampire lair, where you lay, waiting.

When he arrived at vampire territory, however, without a doubt, Namjoon was met with hostility. Dozens, no, maybe even hundreds of vampires bared their fangs at him, ready to attack and rip him to shreds.

The anger and hatred they held for his kind reflected in their blood-red eyes, staring at his every move the more he headed deeper into their territory. It was expected, of course. If any unwanted species were to enter his territory as if they owned the place, he would be angry as well.

But unbeknownst to the vampires that sneered and glared at him and his fellow packmates back at home who trusted him to annihilate said vampires, he had other plans in mind.

A vampire approached him, clad in a suit that resembled those of the olden times as if time had barely passed for the man. He looked at him with disdain yet chose not to say anything about it.

"The monarch wishes to see you," is all he says, turning to let Namjoon follow him. "I suggest you… transform if you wish to keep up." The way he refers to him with such spite and anger makes Namjoon want to tear his limbs apart one by one, but that would be too reckless on his part, especially as the head alpha, no matter how much his inner voice was telling him that his packmates would absolutely love to see him go berserk, especially when his rage was to be directed at those despicable blood-suckers.

It was a good thing Namjoon's rationality was more substantial than his instincts.

The moment Namjoon transformed, the man who had been talking to him immediately led the way, running in inhuman speed to which Namjoon, based on instinct alone, followed suit, surprisingly keeping up with the speedy vampire. The man scoffed at that, appalled at the thought that a mere werewolf could keep up with him.

But Namjoon was no ordinary werewolf. He was the alpha. And there was only one person who could genuinely stand at par with him.

"Your majesty," the vampire says, knocking at the door. "The werewolf has arrived."

Namjoon wants to growl at the hostility in the vampire's voice. The burning desire that flowed through his veins made him want to teach that low life a lesson for insulting him, but he thought better with it. It would only cause complications, after all.

"Let him in," a voice calls, enchanting and majestic, immediately bringing Namjoon out of his trance of rage. "Alone."

"P-pardon?" The vampire exclaims, surprised at his master's command. "Y-your majesty, it is inadvisable to be alone with a lowly werewo—"

"—Seungri." The monarch says voice laced with malice, even to the point of sending shivers down Namjoon's skin. "Do not make me repeat myself."

The silence that follows is deafening as Namjoon takes in the defeated look on the vampire's face, inwardly smirking to himself. Serves him right for treating him as an inferior when he was in all ways superior to him.

He gives the said vampire a smug look, while in turn the other glares at him, before opening the door for him to enter, a warning in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed to Namjoon, who merely brushes it off, stepping into the dark room, and hearing the door close behind him.

Finally, Namjoon thinks to himself, his shoulders relaxing almost immediately as he sighs.

Finally, he can breathe.

"Well, isn't someone getting all cozy over there?" A teasing voice calls out from the darkness, the moonlight illuminating their figure while their bloody red eyes shine in the dark.

They stand up, slowly walking towards him, and Namjoon can feel the anticipation within him rise the more they come closer. "You're finally here," they say, smiling at Namjoon, fingers placed on his chin as they stare admirably at his neck. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you, darling?"

At their words of endearment, Namjoon sighs in bliss, completely relaxing in the monarch's hold, nuzzling into their neck and taking in the comforting scent alluding from them.

"I apologize, my love," Namjoon says, finally showing his true colors, a happy and content smile on his face as his lover, you, leads him to the bed, allowing him to lay his head on your lap running your fingers through his hair. "You know how my kind is. Without me, they're practically a bunch of lost puppies."

Your soft laughter rings throughout the room, and Namjoon sighs once more, blissfully enjoying this moment of serenity with you. "Well, they better get their act together, or else I'll truly go down there and cause a ruckus."

"Haven't you already?" Namjoon pries, opening one eye to look at you. "Your kind's attacks have put mine on edge, you know?"

"Well, how else was I supposed to get you to come here?" You pout as if you were a child. "I can't just stroll into your territory without those clan members of yours attacking me with each step! At least my clan has some self-restraint!"

Namjoon chuckles, admiring the seemingly innocent look on your face, lips in a pout, as your eyes squinted at him childishly. If any of his clan members were to find out that he, the head alpha, had fallen for the ruler of their enemy, they would throw a fit; probably cause a rebellion.

But frankly, at the moment, Namjoon didn't care because with the way you were acting so comfortable around him and the way he felt like being with you was a breath of fresh air, nothing else mattered.

"Well," Namjoon admits, smiling softly, "I suppose you have a point. But still," he says, looking up at you with a faux stern gaze. "Did you really have to rob my people?"

Flustered, you look away, not knowing what to say. "W-well, I couldn't just hurt them, so I figured making them steal was the better… Was I wrong?"

"Well, morally, I suppose you were," Namjoon says, taking your hand into his. "You could have looked for a better reason to get us together…."

There's a distraught expression on your face at the sound of his faux disappointment, and Namjoon smiles at how precious it is, knowing that you wouldn't show it to anyone else but him. Your reputation and image as a tyrant was important after all.

He remembers the day he first met you, long ago, back when you were still fighting for the throne. He had been on patrol that night when usually he wasn't. Clan leaders weren't supposed to go on patrol, but as if he were lured by fate, he had decided to go out that night. Partly to satiate the growing instinct burning within him and get away from the tedious work Seokjin had prepared for him prior.

It was then that he discovered you, dreadfully injured after a fight with the eldest son of another family. As per tradition, all twelve of the eldest children of each vampire family would compete in a battle to the death against each other. The winner would take the throne. It was a bloody, brutal development that had Namjoon appalled when he found out.

Especially after seeing your sorry state, wounded and bruised, hanging on the edge of life and death, Namjoon was terrified, to say the least.

Sure, the growing conflict between the vampires and werewolves had clouded his judgment on certain occasions, but how could he leave someone who was literally about to die in his territory alone? It would go against everything he ever stood for. And Kim Namjoon was anything but a hypocrite.

When you came to, you were, without a doubt, wary of him. Who wouldn't be? You were enemies by nature, and based on your current disposition, you were at a disadvantage should a fight break out. It made sense for you to keep your guard up.

But Namjoon approached you with all the kindness and compassion he could muster, cleaning up your wounds even though your regenerative abilities would take care of them as time passed by, feeding you with the meals his mother used to whip up for him whenever he got into a brawl with another alpha.

As the two of you spent more time together, you gradually got closer. Namjoon was able to find out that you were a late bloomer, a vampire who, despite being of age, hadn't awakened their true powers and abilities. Thus, you were an immediate target for the other candidates for the throne and had fallen victim to a vicious attack led by none other than the man you called your best friend.

A heartbreaking and infuriating betrayal, if Namjoon were to say so himself.

In turn, you had found out that Namjoon, the proclaimed head-alpha once the previous passed away, had been carrying the burden of the pack for as long as he remembered. Unlike vampires, werewolves chose their head alpha based on a ritual, honoring the full moon. The moon had chosen Namjoon that night, and while he knew that it brought great honor to his family, he was pressured to no end, knowing that the expectations for his rule were high.

Frankly, if he had a choice, he would refuse. But as both of you were to realize, you were in no position to refuse the chains that tradition had set to bind you from your freedom.

Cruel, truly.

But fate was a mysterious thing that worked in enigmatic ways. It wove the chains that tied the two of you down together, bringing two enemies meant to battle each other to the death and showing them that sometimes the answers they so desperately longed for could be found in the most unusual of places; cradled deep within the arms of forbidden love.

"However," Namjoon continues, breaking from his train of thought as he caresses your face in the palm of his hand, smiling softly at the sight of you leaning in, stroking his own hand with yours lovingly. "As your lover who so desperately wished to see you as well, I suppose I can let it slide…."

It's funny to Namjoon how much you act like a child behind closed doors, but that was who you were. An innocent child forced to act like a tyrant to stay alive. But if it was for the sake of your survival, then anything goes. Namjoon had taught you how to fight back, had taught you how to rule, even if he himself disagreed with how you did it. And he cared too much about you for you to fall victim to the brutal battle of succession.

"Of course!" You say, giddy with excitement. "You simply cannot refuse me, my love!" There's a cheeky tone in your voice as Namjoon sits up and pins you down to the bed, circling his arms around your waist and laying his head on your chest, sighing in bliss as you ran your fingers through his hair once more.

"I suppose that is the truth," Namjoon says, nuzzling deep into you. "You are simply too irresistible, darling. But don't think I'm going to let the robbery slide. You must return what you stole."

Even with his closed eyes, Namjoon can already see the way the loveable pout overcomes your lips and presses a kiss to your collarbone in response. "As you wish," you sigh, bringing him tighter into your embrace.

The night continues, with the two of you basking in each other's presence, cherishing the little moments you have together. It was frightful to think that your love had to be hidden when all the two of you wanted was to show it freely, but alas, the world was too cruel to be kind to lovers of enemy races.

For now, all the two of you could do was continue the act of hating each other till the day you died, all the while falling in love under the watchful eye of the full moon, who would one day open the doors for your devotion to fly free, shining just as bright as it did once before.

© yumeyooa 2021. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform aside from a03 and tumblr or by any means is NOT permitted and will be dealt with accordingly.

[kateera-writes-blog]

Prompt: Skinny Dipping

Hello all! Thank you to everyone who’s continued to read this series and send me wonderful comments about how much they needed the fluff. It’s very appreciated. Also appreciated, having a beta like @butterfliesandresistance​ who keeps my commas in check. :P

A First Time For Everything

Summary:  Oswald and Jim manage to sneak a little time for themselves before they have to return to Gotham and it's more than Oswald could have hoped for.

Watching the sunset paint the beach in shades of orange and purple, Oswald sighed and leaned against the railing, breathing in the tang of salt from the air and enjoying the wind on his face. This entire vacation seemed like a dream, one he didn’t want to wake up from. He missed his mom, but spending so much time with Jim only made him want more.

Going back to the real world is going to suck. I wonder how many awful tasks Mr. Gilzean has set up for me when I return.

“Hey, you okay?

Turning around, Oswald smiled at Jim’s concern and nodded. “Everything’s perfect.”

Jim smiled and stood behind him, wrapping his long arms around Oswald’s waist and leaning his head on his shoulder. “Yeah. I’ve been dreading tomorrow.”

“Me too.” Leaning back into Jim’s warmth, Oswald closed his eyes. “I miss mother, of course, but this is nice.”

Jim hummed and Oswald hummed back, loving the way he could feel the vibrations through his entire body.

Stepping back, Jim grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the stairs. “Come on, everyone else is distracted by the T.V.”

“Where are we going?” He followed with a smile, always willing to indulge Jim’s impulsive ideas.

“I wasn't going to let your birthday pass without doing something,” Jim said, a hint of mischief in his eyes, “I have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t like surprises,” Oswald said automatically, still following Jim along the pathway to the beach.

“I promise, you’ll like this one.” Jim smiled and Oswald knew he couldn’t deny him anything with that sweet smile on his lips.

They walked along the beach, holding hands, and Oswald basked in the quiet serenity of the evening. With the beautiful sunset around them and Jim’s hand tucked in his, Oswald relaxed into the moment.

“It’s right here. Come on.” Letting go of Oswald’s hand, Jim ducked under a cliff alcove and disappeared into a small cave opening.

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[thehomemadehooligan]

Sam Avanyu

LEGAL NAME: Samoset Ramirez Avanyu

NICKNAME[S]: Sam

DATE OF BIRTH: February 13th

AGE: 26

GENDER | SPECIES: Male | Skinwalker [yee naaldlooshii]

DESIGNATION: Beta

PLACE OF BIRTH: Queens, New York, USA

CURRENT LIVING CONDITIONS: Avanyu Reservation in the Rocky Mountains, specifically above the workshop/garage on the grounds of the Avanyu farm.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, Spanish.

EDUCATION: Barely finished High School.

OCCUPATION: Mechanical Engineer, Side-job as a waiter/dancer at a gay strip club.

CRIMINAL RECORD: Vandalism, Drunk and Disorderly, Driving under the influence, Public intoxication, Public indecency, Speeding - None charged, all passed over to the Tribal police and dismissed.

DRINK | SMOKE | DRUGS: Yes | Yes | Yes

LIKE[S]: Motorbikes, Cars, Being given orders, Being high/drunk, Being naked, Music, Coffee.

DISLIKE[S]: Idiots, Presumptuous people, Mean people, Making decisions, Being alone.

FEAR[S]: His ex, The mother of his child, Losing the people he loves.

PERSONALITY TRAITS: Easygoing, uncomplicated, happy, blunt, affectionate, open, free spirit, loyal, dangerous when provoked, submissive.

QUIRKS: 170 lbs

USUALLY FOUND: 170 lbs

{ P H Y S I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N }

HAIR COLOR: Dark brown.

EYE COLOR: Hazel

HEIGHT: 5’ 9”

WEIGHT: 170 lbs

TATTOOS: Tribal designs on his head, a skull with son written underneath on the right side of his chest, a hyena with his mother's name on the left side of his chest, foreign writing under the curve of his pectoral on the right, a reaper on his left forearm, two tattoos on his right arm, chinese lettering under his right arm, tattoos on each wrist, a coyote and the letters RC on his left ankle, a harley on the inside of his left thigh, a cadillac on the inside of his right thigh, tribal designs containing motorcycle parts across his shoulders.

PIERCINGS:.

SENSITIVE SPOTS: 170 lbs

{ F A M I L Y I N F O R M A T I O N }

SIBLING[S]: None known.

PARENT[S]: Luisa Ramirez Marrakesh, deceased [Mother, FC: Rosario Dawson], Braulio Cordero Ailuridae, whereabouts unknown [Father, FC: David LaBrava].

CHILDREN: Tokala Ramirez [Son, FC:Gonzalo Sanchez Salas] .

EXTENDED FAMILY: Tokala Ramirez [Son, FC:Raphael Alejandro] .

CLOSE PEOPLE: Tokala Ramirez [Son, FC:Gonzalo Sanchez Salas] .

PET[S]: None.

{ R E L A T I O N S H I P I N F O R M A T I O N }

SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Men.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single.

SINCE WHEN: Since he was 22.

KINKS: being ordered around, being praised, being tied down, older guys, biting, someone else in control of when or if I come, growling. Rimming will completely undo him, no control or restraint left, just a moaning begging mess. Also, being touched, not necessarily sexually, but hands running over his skin, caresses, sweet touches.  

OTHER INFORMATION: see below

Are you in a poly relationship?

“Uh, It’s complicated? I’m one of two betas in a pack with three omegas and an alpha. Four of us tend to go into heat sometimes, it’s a quirk of our kind meant so we breed and our bloodlines continue. If it happens and that pack member isn’t dating anyone, so they have no one to help, then the rest of the pack step in. Also I can’t sleep alone and the pack have helped keep me sane over the years. It’s something I bring up to anyone I’m dating that’s serious enough and if I’m lucky, they understand that, the pack is important. And I’m not the kinda person that thinks love has to be restricted so if me and my significant other talk about it, I’m more than happy to bring in other people. It’s not like it’s cheating if there’s consent all round."

Tokala Ramirez is Sam’s only child, 8 years old and until he turns 13, fully human. He’s a lively, happy child despite living with his grandmother, Marie Thompson, and his mother being in jail while he sees his papa every other weekend. Rami, as he’s known, is like his father, a genius. He’s highly skilled in mathematics, languages and mechanical things. He goes to a fancy, expensive, co-ed school in Colorado.

[Facts, facts, facts. I always have a hard time just picking one thing for something like this. Let’s see. Sam is essentially feral, he’s an animal in human form with very dark dangerous gifts. He has a thing for blood, for pain, he likes getting into fights but only for good reasons, to protect the people he cares about. He’ll use weapons sometimes, though that’s not the reason he likes them and carries them, but mostly, he’ll use his teeth and his claws to mutilate people. He lives all the time with animal senses, animal instincts and he’ll growl, chuff and purr in human form. He loves riding a bike as much as he does because it gives him the same feeling as a good run does, the same freedom. He’s partially tamed, in need to someone willing to let him revel in the animal but also to keep him domesticated when it’s needed.]

Sam prefers older men, his age or older. He likes guys with facial hair, doesn’t have to be a lot but enough for him to feel it on his skin and with hair long enough for him to get a good grip on it. He likes naturally dominant men, the sort of guy that gives commands rather than suggestions without even meaning to, the kind of guy that expects people to do as he asks without being an ass about it. He likes guys that don’t mind affection, that will hold him and praise him afterwards, no matter how rough the sex gets or how nasty they are during it. Guys that don’t mind if he plops down into their lap or hugs them for no reason, that don’t mind indulging his need to touch and be touched. He likes guys that don’t mind his ink or muscle or strength, that enjoy dominating him in spite and because of it. Someone that will listen to him prattle on about the stuff he loves, and that at least tolerates his pack and his son. He likes someone who is comfortable in his own skin, that dresses well. It doesn’t have to be fancy clothes, preferably not, but who knows what looks good on them, enhances all their best bits and is comfortable on them. He likes a guy that smells good, but not of a ton of fancy cologne and aftershave, he has a sensitive nose. A scent that tells of a person’s life, the things they love, something manly and natural, with the scent of soap and clean skin, maybe a bit of aftershave or deodorant.

Sam’s biggest kink is being restrained, handcuffs, rope, anything. Just to be at the complete mercy of the person he’s with. He adores being rimmed, it drives him nuts and turns him into a needy begging mess. He loves being bitten, scratched, marked up in all variety of ways. Give him a task to perform and tell him he’s a good boy when he’s fulfilled it, best thing you can do. He likes the build-up to sex, the foreplay, touching, grinding, especially being talked to, until all he can do is beg for more. Lazy make outs are a favourite, the kind where you have hours with nothing to do but be together and you’re not rushing to have sex. His favourite thing to do to his partners is give head, he loves it, could do it for hours and if he’s allowed, he can come just from that. Orgasm control, where his pleasure is taken completely out of his hands, either for him not to come at all or to come so many times he’s left shaking and exhausted at the end of the night. He likes degrading talk, but only some of it, there’s some phrases that will have him reacting badly, some words that will set him off but only in certain circumstances. He’s pretty open to trying things that his partners want, no matter how kinky they are.

A little about yee naaldlooshii

My version of this is partially taken from the Navajo legends and partially from popular media. I claim no knowledge or ties to the Navajo and their beliefs on magic and mean no offense. My information is taken from what is publicly available on the internet.

My Skinwalkers are born with the gift, usually to human mothers and skinwalker fathers, though it doesn’t manifest until they turn 13 when they experience the first shift. This is the shift that signifies which pack they belong to. Cougars are one of the rarer packs. After that, the nearest skinwalker will take them under their wing, teach them as they take them to meet their pack. The skinwalker will be an omega until he’s fathered a child, and then a beta unless he becomes an alpha or the second to an alpha. At forty, the skinwalker will come into his full gifts, essentially immortality. Though it’s more just, not aging and being even harder to kill because his strengths become greater. There are more male skinwalkers than female, no one really knows why but there are.

The most frequent use of their gifts are those related to specifically being a skinwalker rather than the magic inherent in them. They can shift into any animal form, they can mimic animal and human voices/noises, they heal fast and they’re stronger, faster, more agile and more hardy than humans. Their eyes tend to be more animal-like, showing with the characteristics of their first shift, in my boys eyes, they look more catlike than human. Their eyes can also glint and glow faintly, especially at night. Their senses are off the charts, especially their hearing and smell.

Skinwalkers have a talent for healing, both themselves and others, physically, mentally and emotionally. If they have an object of the persons, or know their full true name, they have the ability to become ‘sympathetic’ to the owner. This can be used to harm or heal, but also to find a person no matter where they are. By locking eyes with someone, a skinwalker can read thoughts, intentions, emotions and know the truth of a person. It can also be used to control a person, but it’s difficult, strenuous and can go wrong. The only way to kill a skinwalker is with cold iron coated with white ash.

Does anyone mind fisting?

Sam: Don’t get me started, there’s something about it, the connection between you and the other guy.

8:Sex on the bed, couch or the floor?

Sam: That’s usually not up to me.

15:Most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you during sex?

Sam: I’m not even going to go into that whole mess of not fun issues, no matter who asks.

Kink you would like to try,but haven't yet.

Sam: I’ve tried a lot of kinks, not always because I wanted to. I’d like to be taken on a running motorcycle, ain’t tried that yet, and if it was paired with a couple other kinks of mine, even better.

[One thing Sam utterly hates is when the cops try to pull him over for speeding or not obeying certain safety laws. Because the reservation he lives and works on is counted as Native land and because of his ancestry, he’s not under the jurisdiction of the normal police but of the tribal police, of which his uncle Oz is a member. The cops can’t pull him in or cite him without cooperation from them, so it basically just pisses him off rather than accomplishing anything.]

[Blargh, I come up with random headcanons all the time, the muses can be noisy little shits. Decisions, decisions. Oh, here’s a recent one. Sam’s most important and private project is restoring his mama’s cadillac. The mother of his child had an auto accident in it and mostly totalled it. In his mama’s memory, he’s trying to get it back to it’s glory days.] 

Sam got his first tattoos, the ones on his head at fifteen. They were inked by his mama, hand drawn with no guide. They’re still his favourite even after all the ones he’s gotten since. His mama did two other tattoos for him, one each year before her death. A hyena over his heart with his mama’s name, Luisa Marrakesh, and a coyote on his left ankle just above the outer bone with the initials RC.