#[heat cycle maybe? lmao]

[transingthoseformers]

So something I've just learned about today is that some sexually dimorphic ducks have this "eclipse" plumage they have a short while after mating season

So of course I'm wondering "can we apply this to the (often brightly colored) transformers" because that would be so funny though

[homebrewstims]

Moonless Guard

x x x x x x x x x Banner

[revasserium]

Can I request any windbreak characters (headcanons) of your choosing reacting to their s/o ending up in the hospital beacause if a rival gang targeting them?

reqs are open!

the beautiful and damned

sakura, suo; 911 words; fluff, slight angst, implied bodily harm, lapslock, no "y/n", hurt/comfort kinda i guess?, very!drabble, suo being... suo

a/n: sry i only did sakura and suo... currently i've only got the muse for these two tho i did consider tossing umemiya in there lmao; maybe next time...

falling backwards — sakura

it can take the body up to twenty-minutes to cycle through an average fight-or-flight response though he’s always prided himself in staying for the fight.

seeing you in the hospital bed for the first time was a masterclass in the concept of flight — or rather, in falling. of the ground crumbling beneath him, of his stomach going momentarily weightless before sinking and sinking, of his lungs calcifying inside his chest till it physically stings to breathe.

“i’m alright,” you say, waving him off, but for the first time, his knee-jerk reaction isn’t to punch something — it’s to topple into the chair by the door and bury his face in his hands.

“you’re alright…” he says, his mouth forming around the words like learning to speak for the very first time, and then again, “you’re alright.” the says the words like a prayer answered, like exaltation, like a promise to himself made and broken and mended back again.

you cast him a wide smile, though he doesn’t miss the way you wince and your hand jumps up to the bandage wrapped around your forehead.

“it really looks worse than it is… i just got scratched so they had to bandage up my head but the wound was really shallow so —”

he makes his way over to your bedside and tugs you into his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the harsh, florescent light of the hospital room. for a second, your voice is muffled against his shirt but then you go quiet in his arms, you go soft, and there’s a terrifying moment when he wonders if he’s held on too tight —

“sakura?”

“you’re… alright.”

he slumps down on the bed next to you, reaching for your hands. you let him take them, let him study them. there are a smattering of bruises along your arms, but nothing’s broken, no lasting damage. he leans down to press his forehead to the backs of your hands; you feel the heat simmering beneath his skin, stark and startling against your cool fingers.

“yeah. i’m alright. and… you’re okay too,” you say, flipping a hand over to cup his face, to lift his head up to meet your gaze. he nods, slowly, leaning into your touch.

“yeah… i think i will be.”

here are the monsters — suo

there are a few things suo hayato knows to be true: he’s a good fighter, even one of the best in the freshman year, that green tea should be brewed at 75 to 80 degrees, and that whoever did this will pay.

“tell me who did this.”

his voice is light, almost conversational, and nothing in his expression betrays the bright red fury curdling just beneath the thin veneer of his calm. you eye him warily, and he smiles sweetly, cocking his head to one side as he waits for your answer.

“hayato…”

“hm?”

you sigh, leaning back in your hospital bed and crossing your arms.

“if i tell you, promise you won’t go looking for a fight.”

suo pauses, considering your words, tallying them against his internal list of truths — he knows of the terrible risk of loving someone more than yourself, of the secret strength it grants you. he knows terror too, the kind that seems endless and dark and ever-expanding, a black hole of nothing that threatens to consume him when he’d first heard that you’d been hurt bad enough to warrant a night in the hospital.

but beneath that terror is something else — something with flashing teeth and shining claws that he does not have a name for but has felt flickering there for his whole entire life.

this is the monster, he thinks, that lives in us all.

the minotaur in the middle of the maze of self.

hungry and lonely and howling for blood.

“fine. i promise,” he says, putting his hands up.

you blink at him for a few seconds before your eyes narrow once more. you know him, and you know him almost too well.

“hayato, what aren’t you telling me?”

“i’ll tell you if you tell me who did this.”

after another second’s pause, you sigh and list off a few names — the perpetrators to this great crime. kids, too, from another school’s gang.

“it’s par for the course, isn’t it?” you say, your voice tightening slightly as suo nods and gets to his feet. he takes his time, stretches, leans down to drop a sweet kiss into your hair, “i knew what i was getting into when i agreed to date you so…” your voice trails off as suo makes for the door, humming lightly.

“where’re you going?” you ask.

he pauses by the door, “for a walk and… maybe a friendly chat with some kids at the school the next county over.”

“hayato! you promised you wouldn’t go looking for a fight!”

at this, suo’s expression shifts ever so slightly. it’s in the slant of his mouth and the sharpness of his eyes, the way his voice is smooth as starlight but his words have all their vowels seeped in cyanide —

“oh i’m not going looking for a fight… but you see, the second they put a hand on you, the fight already found it’s way to me.”

---

@houseofsolisoccasum

[phoenixyfriend]

Concept for omegaverse:

Being around enough pregnancy hormones or new babies suppresses rut cycles in alphas.

Evolutionarily, it's to prevent a possibly violent rut while there's a vulnerable individual around. Babies are fragile, and a pregnant omega more fragile than usual, but also! The omega can't get MORE pregnant, so it's a waste of resources.

While the omega can get pregnant again a few months after giving birth, ovulating every 3-4 months as usual, a true heat doesn't hit until the baby is a year or two old. (There's a wide window, and it's usually around weaning, but delay too long or star too early on that, and it'll happen anyway.)

Generally, just being around a pregnant omega a few hours a day won't do much, especially if you aren't mated, so just having a pregnant coworker won't impact you unless you're hooking up in your free time... but working as an ob/gyn or in a maternity ward DOES. That's a lot of pregnant people and babies to be around!

It's a favored profession for asexual alphas who don't want a rut to force them into Wanting The Thing They Don't Want.

It's not birth control, btw. It doesn't actually impact sperm count, just prevents the high libido and aggression period.

lmao Maybe if you huff pregnancy hormones (and don't have the kink) you have acne control like IRL people take bc.

[darlingofvalyria]

❝You don't think I can please you?❞

part 05 | we're really in it now, darling

chapter summary:

[ Everything comes ahead at a hedge maze because. . . hedge maze. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 4,517 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader, aemond x alys rivers

contains— angst, a lil smutty but no full whorishness, ya'll good - i should really put idiots in love as a tag shouldn't i - nsfw: grinding + some sexy, sexy second base lmao - no kingslayers, no rogues, no betas.

a/n— i hope ya'll forgive me. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

You don't really know what you were expecting come Sunday. Once you started to 'ehh' 'hmmm' and 'maybe's your way through random moments with Helaena after the radio silence from Aemond— your best friend put her foot down.

"Fuck him," Helaena grumbled. "You've been going to Sunday dinners before he was even born, you are not backing down now."

 You snorted. "That's wildly inaccurate."

"Point still stands. Fuck. Him. You deserve my mother's tiramisu cake. He doesn't get to take that from you." Her eyes widen as if trying to instil her determination into your system via eye contact. "You are not going to let him take that from you."

You nodded. That's at least a point to pro you can stand by. Though she can't cook to save her life— Alicent's words, not yours — the woman sure can bake. It became therapeutic for her, she once said. How measuring ingredients and kneading dough to patiently folding cream after another kept her mind quiet and her hands busy.

"My faith strongly does not advise rage shooting, you know?" Alicent once hummed.

"Did you mean 'range' shooting?"

"Oh?" she nodded absentmindedly, smiling. "Yes, that too."

"That's true," you mused. Tiramisu cake was her mother's specialty. Every Sunday, she has all attendees pack up at least one cake per person and you and Hel usually stave off bites throughout the week until the next Sunday comes.  "I deserve some tiramisu cake, gods be damned it."

"Plus, if you come with me, we'll get two cakes to take home instead of one." She wagged her finger. "We count as two separate entities with one fridge, it's our greatest privilege."

"Daeron calls it preferential treatment."

"I am her only daughter, of course I get preferential treatment."

"As you should, bestie."

Even when you've stopped struggling with choosing if you were going or not, your mind is never faraway from thinking about Aemond. You wonder if he's finally gotten back with Alys was a bad train of thought, while an even worse train of thought is how soft his lips were and how he holds your hair to pull you close when his tongue glides across your bottom lip.

You blink, shaken from the thought. Bad. Bad brain. Stop it.

And repeat. At this point, it was safer to think about Alys and Aemond.

According to previous cycles, by this point they'd be at the height of their newly blossomed relationship— all sweet kisses and heated looks, unable to stop touching each other much less act a little bit better when they're trying to leave a group function to fuck their brains out — so you wouldn't be surprised to see come Sunday that he arrives with Alys— both of them tall, gorgeous with just enough undertone of smirky, smarmy tension that would make you want to stab your own eye out — pointedly ignoring you or whatever happened between you and him.

It hurt to think about sure, but what else did you think was going to happen?

That call made a space the size of a puddle that turned into a lake, welled deep with unresolved feelings and untouched topics. More questions than answers, drawing lines both of you were too scared to tug and see.

It's big enough to notice, and both stubborn enough not to anything about it.

You tried. Well, you almost did. In the weird hours of the day when your brain and body are more physically disjointed so rationality gives way to adrenaline. Most of the time, this is during working hours. You, checking your phone, running around his profile with your thumb a few times, biting your lip as your mind blanks and your body fights to call him. Or leave a message.

Before your mind and body reconnects and you fling your phone as far away from you as possible.

It's weird. You've never fought with Aemond before. If this was considered fighting. You've been disappointed in him, gotten angry and annoyed with him, but someone always, always offers an olive branch.

Every time you think about that call, you close up, your annoyance flares, and you shove your phone away.

In your amicable defense, this was primarily his problem. You weren't truly dating. He made it clear every choice he was making was en toward the agreed conditions were of making his ex jealous enough to take him back, yada yada yada.

Even if, possibly, you wanted more, he made no actual steps to make it known that he was considering it too.

Funny stares on your lips don't count. The only sabbatical from sexual adventures Aemond got were the breakup round with Alys, and as established before, they got it on pretty frequently.

Another thought bubble about Aemond's lips pops in your head, the mint from his toothpaste and the coffee from his black with no sugar, no milk, the way he seemed to suckle on your sighs—

Gods. Damn. It.

Focus.

That last call?

You're a grown ass woman. You're allowed to do whatever you want with whomever you want, and you're not going to make Aemond Targaryen's steely silence of what— disappointment? Of your choices? Of your choice in Cregan Stark and Cregan Stark Jr? Of what you were doing? Sure he was faithful to the Seven, a good old religious boy raised by his momma, but it doesn't make him a saint. Just because he's clinging to the vestiges of first love thinking it could very well be his last doesn't make him holy, or warrant enough to judge you for getting your little you some good dick.

Life is hard. Good dick is hard to come by!

So. Yeah. Days leading up to Sunday was radio silence and way too many thoughts circling your head like vultures, eating away at logic and rationality, and stubbornly still, you refused to make contact. If it's not out of pride, it's out of hurt.

Because he could apologise, but Aemond wasn't known for his apologies.

But then you remembered the flowers, the tulips, and now you just felt sad. Moping, getting annoyed, and trying to get through work without breaking your phone speeds the week in a blur.

Come Sunday afternoon, Helaena was coming to pick you up from her shift at the vet— the beauty of having a vet bff is the Russian roulette of pictures; you never know if you're about to get cuddly new patients with big, sad eyes and pouty snouts or her newest c-section win without any attempts of a blur — so you could get to her mother's house together, you decided to go for the nines with your outfit.

A sweet summer dress later, some gold gladiator sandals half off from your favourite but largely can't afford shoe boutique that you swear you were always going to wear to make up for the insane price (thank the gods Alicent didn't have a no shoe policy because it takes fifteen minutes to get them on and you cannot be on the floor, on her house, with Aemond around, rolling around like a hot potato on the entry way trying to get a fucking shoe on), dusted and prepped in you're fancier version of makeup, and was just finishing off your hair— using the good mousse whilst blaring Disney epics — when knocking came.

You freeze.

On one hand, it could just be Helaena, forgetting her keys again somewhere as she had done so numerous times before, but there hadn't been a slew of expletives or her impression of a cool, clinical voice saying, ''Tis I, the Stranger, have come for thee soul! Open up I gotta pee, woman!' so you got a pretty good guess on the alternative, sending your heart into a stutter and get smacked with a well deep of yearning.

You miss Aemond. You miss hanging out with him, even just having him on video call whilst you prepped a late dinner and he's working out his thesis defense, too late for either of you, but catching another's eye in the tiny phone and sharing a comforted grin. You miss being called my lady in a language that means so much to him, miss bumping shoulders and smelling his crisp scent of cologne and laundry.

Miss his lips, his very soft, very delicious lips—

"Gods damnit, woman, keep it together," you murmur to yourself. Another series of knocks, ever patient, and you're moved by body not mind as breathless giddiness yanks the door open—

Only to fall flat.

"Oh." You can't hide your disappointment at the curly blond with the smirk for centuries. "Aegon. I didn't know it was you."

"Yes, the expressive disappointment in your eyes could bring a man on the edge to his downfall, I must say," he jokes hoarsely, a little hurt. "Not even a hi Aeg. I've missed you Aeg, or— hey Aeg! You look good enough to eat!"

It's Aegon. Not Aemond. Or Helaena. Helaena and Aemond's older brother, Aegon. Party rocking, cocaine hiding, sweat and someone's lipstick smelling Aegon. You like him despite his whorishness because he's funny, because he's sweet when he wants to be, and he always, always gets you a funny mug when he comes back from wherever he came from.

You blink a couple of times, laughing awkwardly as you give him a quick hug. He still smells the same, with the lightest tint of sun in him from his days at the beach not so long ago no doubt.

"Sorry, sorry. Hi Aeg, I've missed you Aeg, and yes, you do look good enough to eat, Aeg."

He hugs back tighter, smothering you in the denim jacket he's wearing and the curly edge of his white blond hair. He's got a new piercing and smells of new perfume.

"So do you, princess," he says as you step back and he appraises you appreciatively. "Those shoes can step on me any time."

"I will never."

"You will never," he says chirpily, moving back with a teasing grin. "Let me guess, you were waiting for my uglier version to come by and got too overwhelmed by the majesticness of me."

'"Majesticness isn't even a word." You snort. "And Aemond is not your uglier version, you don't look that alike."

He raises an eyebrow as you blink. Fuck. "Dear me oh my, I meant Helaena, babe. When did Aemond get into the mix?"

You shove his shoulder, huffing as you pick up your keys and bag, forcing him to step back as you lock the apartment, trying to give yourself grace from his burning, teasing stare. "As if Helaena didn't tell you." You finally turn to him, lips pursed at his faux innocent pout. "Helaena tells you everything."

"She might have mentioned a thing or two about a thing or two." He bumps your hip as you both get into the elevator. "Imagine my surprise when Lae-lae tells me of a wondrous development between her two favourite people that involved a breakup, some gift-giving shenanigans, and kissing." He gasps dramatically as you groaned. "I leave for what— a month or two and suddenly you and Aemond are making out? Babe, I must say, you're doing the tongue tango with the wrong brother."

 "He's not the wrong brother, also the tongue tango? Really?" you snap suddenly. The wrong brother comments always irk you because you understand that it's a sensitive issue to Aemond, as well as Aegon himself.

But it's a bait you realise too late because Aegon Targaryen enjoys hauling truths from people in steps and tricks, uncaring if he takes a stab or two to get there as you meet his gaze against the reflective wall, positively smirking.

"Really now?"

"Why are you even picking me up? I thought you were in Oldtown."

"Already sorted. Hel wanted to make sure you get there in time, she's going to be late... After all your earlier ride backed out didn't he?"

Your mouth pursed, annoyance prickling at your edges as the elevator pulled into the lobby. "I don't want to talk about it, where's your car?"

He whistles, languid and all the time in the world on his shoulders with just the hint of smug. "It's a thirty minute ride, babe, you're going to spill."

You shoot him a withering glare. "Not if I have say in it." For emphasis, you yank his door and slam it. Fuck his new Maserati.

"Mature!"

Thirty minutes is more than ample time for Aegon Targaryen to weed his way into your brain like the worst case of earworm (like a stupid ass commercial jingle that just. Won't. Stop) that by the time you reach his mother's, you were ranting.

"—like I get it, saying I'm going out with another guy to get some good dick after confirming that we're going to your mother's for Sunday as a date is bad, but we're not really dating! He said so himself! He pressed the issue of it not being a real thing! And he didn't attempt any—"

"— any communication at all," Aegon echoes, stretching his legs as he stood. "Not a sorry or anything."

"Anything!" you bolster, slamming his door again that is less about him and more about the aggressiveness. "I know that he's bad at apologising, or facing things that are hard, choosing to stew in it and act all shitty to people, I just... I thought he'd at least tell me. Doesn't that warrant our friendship?"

"Hm. Ever think that's precisely why he struggles with you?"

"What does that even mean?"

"That he cares about you, so he struggles more with expressing himself."

You turn to him, cocking your head. "When did you get so wise, oh Gandalf?"

"A Seven focused rehab facility can do that to you," he muses wistfully. "There was this nun that says verses when she orgasms."

You make a face. "Love the fun fact."

"You're welcome. But back to point, isn't the issue also the fact that you never tried to make contact with him either?"

"Well. Yeah. Because..."

Aegon squints at you sympathetically. "Because you're scared of rocking the boat because of how much you like him?"

"Not, well," you hesitate. "Not like that precisely..."

"How much you're capable of liking him?" Aegon smiles wryly. "You had a crush on him, I remembered that at least. When Hel first introduced you to him, you couldn't stop teasing him until he lit up like a Christmas tree. I knew you liked him since then. You called him pretty half the time, and I started to realise it was less about his reaction but how you actually see him, and speaking as the naturally cherub, pretty boy of the family, I find this highly, highly offensive."

You pinch his cheeks, wounding your arm over his shoulder. Aegon was built like a linebacker with less muscles that aren't postern, with wide shoulders and a strong body that's too easy to lean against.

"You're pretty too, Aeg," you coo. "But he's just..."

 "If you say ethereal, I will vomit right in my mother's petunias." He makes a face. "How about this. The problem is that you think Aemond doesn't like you back."

You frown at him. "I know Aemond doesn't like me back."

"Oh, sweetie," Aegon coos, sympathy and pity swirling in his smug, smug smile. "I'm so glad you're pretty."

You pinch his sides until he squirms. "Fuck you, what the hell?"

"What I'm saying is, let's test that, you know? Because that's the only variable you aren't sure with?"

You sigh. "Aeg, even if he does, I'm not going to pounce—"

The door swings open, and there he is, of pretty boy face and good boy posture because his mother raised herself a good, devout boy who doesn't know what a slouch is because he's not an ape— and is he wearing his leather jacket? Of course he's wearing the leather jacket and you know that smell, that spiced cologne with the leather and his natural scent and fuck, Aemond is looking at you, looking at his brother, and the open expression, the shock, that smidge of relief— shutters to an icy politeness.

Aegon because he's Aegon, pulls you closer, his mouth curling into a grin that only says trouble, forcing Aemond to straighten up his already perfect posture in preparation for whatever his brother has in mind and his stare is white-hot on the conjoined appendages between you and his brother— and Aegon lands a wet, smacking kiss on your cheekbone.

"Had to pick up your girl, baby bro, I mean what kind of—" his blue gaze finds his mother descending the stairs, peering out to see on who it was, and you're frozen, waiting for the bomb to drop and simultaneously unprepared for it, "— boyfriend has his brother pick up his girl? Good thing you got a good excuse, huh? Oh, hey mother dearest! Your favourite son has come back!"

As Aegon leaves your side with a cheeky little wink, you bit your lip at the frosty look on his face that makes you feel like an absolute idiot and fills you with rage all in one go. Because Aemond has never looked at you like that, like you were at fault and acting like a child, but that you also want to jut a finger against his chest.

"Did you have a nice talk with him on the drive over?" he says, jaw hard.

"I didn't tell him," you hiss, taking the hem of his leather jacket instead of his hands enough so you can pretend to kiss his cheeks because his mother is right there, eyes wide at that two of you as Aegon gave you a discreet thumbs up.

"Helaena did. Get over yourself, your mother's—"

 "Aemond?"

As he freezes and Alicent calls your name, you plaster the best smile you can make as you twine your fingertips with his.

"Smile."

"Hm."

When you leave his side to greet Alicent, you make sure to stomp on his stupid shoes.

As soon as you've finished your mandatory greetings— even with Otto Hightower, Aemond's grandfather, who merely raised his eyebrows at the apparent new status of you and his grandson, Alicent having to blink multiple times, wrangling positives as she kept shooting her son looks while he stood like a block of ice behind you — Aemond takes your hand by his own volition, tangles your fingers too tight, and starts tugging you along like a bouy.

"Are you a child?" you hiss, trying to pry your hand as insistently without outright yanking, Alicent already sending you both concerned looks at a news that she called 'oh, that is wonderful!'

"I am younger than you," he murmurs back, holding you tight.

"Oh, fuck you."

With a defeated huff, you take longer, heavier strides and stomps so you're the one dragging him.

It's all illusion of control built on pettiness because you're still being navigated, it's more just pride at this point, but you don't care, and when he scoffs right back, you felt at least a pinch of a win.

And then he, of course, matches your strides so fucking easily.

"Freaking horse-legged motherfucker," you mumble. You don't know if he catches it, or you're imaging the soft, surprised noise that's both a snort and a laugh.

He winds you around the hallway, an unbreakable trajectory to the backyard, dragging you past an easy eye view from the dramatic, floor to ceiling windows and trespassing straight into the hedge maze because of course they had one of those.

"Really? Here?"

"Do you want to be ogled up by my mother?" he says in a nauseatingly chipper voice. "Is that what you and Aegon are planning with all this, hm?"

You twist out of his grip, walking deeper on your own until your eyes are swallowed by the darkness. When you turn to him, your eyes adjust, only seeing the silver of his hair, so different from his black leather jacket and dark green jumper. You don't see his expression or his sharp gaze.

"Planned this? Seriously? Nothing since coming here had been planned, Aemond," your voice has bite and if your eyes had adjusted faster, or if you could see better, you would see the flinch he makes, "if it had been, this certainly would be the last of my fucking choices. Or do I have to remind you of the fact that we were supposed to go together? Oh right, things change when you drop a call out of fucking nowhere!"

"I—fuck." He moves around, a hand through his hair as exhales in frustration. "I didn't... think you'd want to go with me. That Sunday plans had been cancelled."

"And you didn't think to message? I mean it's not like we're friends in literally every social media." You try not to sound hurt before taking a deep breath, offering your palms up. "I didn't—don't even know what the issue is, Aemond. Were you so offended that I was sexually active that you just had to rudely drop the call and not talk—"

It's maybe the darkness, or intuition but you can bet half yours savings that Aemond Targaryen is blushing.

"It... gods, no it's not... I wasn't offended that you were sexually active," he says softly, evenly. He clears his throat. "I don't... mind that you're... sexually active. I actively... support it. Even." He coughs. Swallows. Curses.

If you don't feel like your heart is pounding in your throat you would have laughed. You had never seen the boy this flustered before that it's affecting his words, because Aemond has always been the most well spoken person you know.

"Is it about Cregan? Do you have something against Cregan?"

His eye flutter close. "No... and yes."

"I don't understand, Aemy," you whisper, defeated.

He sighs. In the dark, you notice a movement. His hands flex. It's a habit he's had since you've known him. It's instinct. The way you reach out, finding a piece of his leather jacket until you find your way to his hands, running your fingers over the bones and ridges, his sinew and skin. There are callouses from his fencing, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He's frozen first before he sighs, melting through the warmth you share with him.

 "I have nothing against Stark," he finally says. "It's the fact that you were still having sex with him that I found unfair." He steps closer until you can see his face better, the struggle in him can be told through the furrow in his brows and the press of his pillowy lips, red and wet as if he had bitten through it. "I... understand that we're not really together, but I couldn't... not feel as if it wasn't right. As if I wanted it to be me."

His hands finds your arms, eye closing and gently placing his forehead against your own. At first you panic, your body trying to make your brain decide do you like this or not but it's Aemond, and he's warm, gentle, sweet almost. It's familiar and new at the same time. It's warmth you recognise, skin you will know anywhere, but in a way that you've never felt him before.

You close your eyes and breathe with him.

You know that this is rare. That this Aemond is reserved for people he loves and cares about, but with his forehead against yours, with his hands holding you steady, rubbing a comforting thumb over your skin that felt just as for him as it was for you, breathing you in and exhaling you out. A single breath between two bodies.

"I don't know if I can agree to that, Aemy."

"What?" He pulls back, hurt pulling taunt your favourite pair of lips. "Do you like Cregan more? You don't think I can please you?"

"That's not—"

His hands closes on your face, cupping it in his palms as you stare, wide-eyed at the blue fire lit up in his eye. His breath brushes your lips, making them tingle.

"Push me away if you don't want it," he says before his eye closes and he takes your mouth against his own, swallowing your gasp then pulling you away again, eye glinting.

"Push me away, ñuha riña." His voice is so soft, words crisp while your body thrummed in a single, frantic heartbeat. When you don't move, too shock, thoughts tangled, he smirks.

With his teeth, he captures your bottom lip, grazing it. When he feels you shudder, eyes fluttering, he chuckles meanly.

"Push me away as if you don't want me." He tilts your chin up as he looks down on you, eye confident in its lust. His thumb brushes your bottom lip. "As if you don't feel everything I do."

"Fuck you," you manage to exhale as you grab the back of his head and devour him just as you did at the restaurant. He groans, using his other hand to feel your side, pass your one breast, giving it a firm squeeze that makes you gasp, tongue clashing, legs tangling as you push and push and he pulls you to him, his back hitting the prickly hedge. It's teeth and tongue, breaths twisted in one air as you used each other like lifelines, like enemies in a swords match.

It's feverish and passion, infuriating want that gives. Because when you dominate the kiss, tangling his tongue with your own, yanking him down and down as if you want him to reach every part of you inside, he bends and follows. And when he pulls you, tangles your hair and takes every gasp and breath, you surrender.

He groans when you suck on his bottom lip, pulling away just enough to spit out, "You taste so much better than my dreams." His mouth moves down and down, leaving a path of heat as he suckles at your neck, practically ripping the buttons of the top of your dress as he slides down and grunts in pain.

"A-Aemy?" Your eyes flutter. "Your back, shit—"

"Fuck that." He tugs you down until you land with an oomph! on his lap, your chest at his eye level before he drags them back to your gaze. "Tell me to stop."

You shake your head, tangling your fingers in his hair. "No."

"Good."

Your back arches, supported in his hold, as he starts sucking the skin lower and lower, another hand massaging your tit that pools hot down your core until his hand, warm and solid, sinew and bone, and Aemond Aemond Aemond, slides between your bra and cups your breast and his hand is so big, and it feels so good that you start grinding on the hard length you feel right at your—

An ear-splitting shriek freezes the both of you. You and Aemond pull back, hand still on your tit.

"Wha—"

"Ew, ew, ew! Mom said you were fighting! FIGHTING DOES NOT EQUATE FUCKING IN THE MAZE, YOU FUCKING CLICHES!"

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantastyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin @backyardfolklore @random-ocity @hc-geralt-23 @vendettasblog @cicaspair418 @malynn @anehkael @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm

[poebot]

“Toxic” Ellabs / F!Reader Part 1 | Part 2

summary: Ellie, your on-again off-again girlfriend, can’t seem to leave you alone. Abby is tired of watching you get hurt.

tags/warnings: this is mostly sfw! mentions of alcohol, ellie gets a lil handsy but that’s about it lmao

a/n: i go feral for the idea of hot women fighting over me so take this. on a more civilised note lemme know if you wanna see this continued in a part 2! apologies for any spelling mistakes ^_^

Your relationship with Ellie wasn’t what most would describe as healthy. You shared a bad habit of repeatedly breaking up and getting together again, always weak to her grand gestures and ‘I miss you’ texts. It was an endless cycle that neither of you seemed interested in breaking, but you had promised Abby and Dina that this time, this was it. You were done with her. Done with the constant flirting with other girls, with the endless arguments over her jealously problems, with the mess she’d leave your apartment in. You were done with it all.

Tonight was supposed to exemplify that; a trip to the club with your closest friends to celebrate your newfound freedom. You had put on your skimpiest dress (10/10 from Dina. Abby offered an approving thumbs up with minimal eye contact.) and had styled your hair and makeup just the way you liked it. Tonight was about forgetting about Ellie. And maybe finding someone cute to smash faces with, also in an effort to forget Ellie.

After one too many shots, you found yourself abandoning the group to go dance. You tried to coax the girls to join you, but Dina insisted they’d stay put and keep an eye out for you. They watched from a distance as your hands caressed your body, your tight dress clinging to your curves just right.

“She’s going to be the death of me.” Abby groaned, turning to face the bar. Being hopelessly in love with one of your best friends sucked, but it sucked even worse when said best friend was pining after a girl who didn’t treat her right. Every time you’d call her crying about Ellie, she had to physically fight the urge to shake you. To tell you that she was right here and would never make you feel this way. She hated Ellie Williams with everything in her. Dina pouted, rubbing Abby’s arm reassuringly and pushed a glass of whiskey into her hands.

✧༺♡༻∞

Your eyes were closed tightly, enjoying the fuzzy feeling of being tipsy when you felt a pair of large hands snake their way around your waist. You didn’t even have to open them to know who was behind you. Her clothes smelled of cigarettes and the same musky cologne that she always wore on nights out, and she pressed her lips against your ear as you continued to sway.

“Hey, baby. You look good.” Her voice was raspy and quiet under the noise of the bustling club, but she was pressed so close that you could hear her every inhale and exhale. You turned to face her, your eyebrows furrowed. “I thought I told you to leave me the fuck alone.” Ellie chuckled at your attitude, seemingly unconvinced.

“You say that every other week. Cmon… I seriously can’t change your mind?” Her roaming hands continued to reach lower past your hips, moving dangerously close to the curve of your ass. The flesh dimpled in her hands and you heard her let out a sigh. You hummed, pushing against her chest weakly as you felt warm heat flood your stomach. It was increasingly hard to resist her, from the alcohol thrumming through your blood stream to the tender way her body pressed against yours. She smelled so fucking good, you missed her so fucking bad, and before the rational part of your brain could think you were pressing your face into her neck, senses thrilled at being surrounded by her familiar scent and touch.

“Thought so.” Ellie smiled, moving your face from the junction of her neck to hold your chin up to look at her. “God. You look fucking amazing.”

✧༺♡༻∞

“Uh oh… Ellie’s on the hunt.” Dina chuckles, taking a sip from her cranberry vodka. She had spotted the girl almost half an hour earlier, sitting in a corner nursing a beer while she scoped out the crowd. In an effort to not spoil the night, she chose not to mention it to her friends. Atleast that’s what she told herself, ignoring the nagging thought in her head that this should make for good entertainment. Maybe Abby would finally make a goddamn move.

“What are you talking about?” Abby turned to look in the direction she was facing, and in an instant her smile dropped from her face at the sight of you enveloped in Ellie’s arms, her hands around your waist as she hugged you from behind. you seemed to be in a hushed discussion and your expression looked annoyed, but you made no effort to escape her as she started to sway with you to the music, her hips flush with your ass.

“You owe me like twenty bucks. I told you it would be less than two weeks.” Dina watched Abby over the rim of her glass, her lips slightly upturned in amusement. The girl was completely fucking hopeless. Her crush on you couldn’t be more clear, but your head was too far in the clouds to even notice. She punched Abby lightly in the arm, making her flinch. “Ow..” She murmured under her breath, as though her biceps weren’t crafted from stone.

“Dude. Stare any harder and they might combust.” Abby ran a calloused hand through her long hair, a nervous habit she had picked up whenever it wasn’t braided back. You convinced her to wear it this way tonight, telling her how pretty she looks with it down. Fuck, this sucks.

Abby stole another glance at the couple just as Ellie’s eyes met hers, and she planted a chaste kiss against your throat, holding the tense eye contact. Like a threat.

Fuck it. That was her last straw.

She grabbed her half full glass of whiskey and downed it, turning to Dina, her eyes blazing. “I’m going over there. She’s drunk, can hardly think straight. Shits’ not right.”

“Hey.” Dina grabbed Abby by her collar, yanking her back before she could storm off. “Go do what you gotta do. But if you get us kicked out of here, I’m beating your ass.”

[radioapple-heathen]

Lucifer disguises himself as a woman to blend into the night. Still impossibly beautiful, but unrecognizable. He carries a flask filled with something much stronger than any human alcohol since it doesn’t affect him. He needs something potent to dull his thoughts and let him loosen his inhibitions & finally let go and have fun without anyone realizing who he really is.

His nights become a pattern: slipping into bars and sleeping with strangers to satiate a deep, gnawing loneliness. He's touch-starved and haunted by self-loathing, caught in a vicious cycle of seeking comfort in the arms of others and despising himself for it afterward. He sulks for days after each encounter, sinking deeper into his own darkness.

Then one night, he steps into a smoky jazz club. The air is thick with music and sin. The place is alive, vibrant with jazz. Amidst the haze, his eyes catch on Alastor. Maybe he's there with Rosie, laughing and dancing, or perhaps he's simply enjoying the scene alone. Regardless, Lucifer is struck by how at ease Alastor seems, completely in his element, so unlike the tightly-wound radio demon he knows from the hotel.

Their eyes meet across the room, and for the first time in a long while, it's Lucifer who is enthralled by the sight of Alastor in such an informal, relaxed state. But something else happens too: Alastor sees him. Even in disguise, there’s something about Lucifer that draws him in.

Maybe they have a heated, drunken encounter, a secret neither of them is ready to admit to back at the hotel. Or maybe Lucifer keeps the affair going but never tells Alastor it’s actually him. Their interactions become a web of tension and hidden identities, with Alastor unknowingly drawn to Lucifer’s disguise, and Lucifer struggling with how long he can keep up the charade.

Part 1 of ask here.

Alright. First off.

This is an incredible premise with the potential for delightful angst, utter debauchery, and some very tender, vulnerable moments.

Second, I implore you to reconsider the notion that you are 'a godawful author'. This summary is better than 70% of content I've come across in my 20 plus years in fandom. And that's not to say that content is bad, just that the way you've written this summary is SO GOOD. Pls write this, if you love me at all LMAO. Like holy shit. I'd read this in a heartbeat.

I personally have a lineup of radioapple fics I want to write and am a slow, 1-project-at-a-time writer. So if you waited for me, it'd be like... 2027 and two more seasons of HH before I got to this, BUT YOU, MY DEAR. You can write this right now, and do the radioapple fandom a great service by adding this wonderful story to our library. PLS & THANK YOU.

[doctordeathawaits]

trans-omega tips please ? { like the ones in omegaverse fanfics !! }

also specifically a little nsfw but i get extremely dysphoric about not having my heats !! so if you have any tips for that specifically i would be so grateful !! maybe you could hide it under a read more/continue reading thingy !!

thank you !! ♥️♥️♥️

TRANS - OMEGAVERSE ( OMEGA ) . . .

warning of nsfw topics under the cut ! :3

Hello , so I am a headmate who is cis-omega in headspace , decided why not help out , yk ?

If you experience ovulation - you can associate that with Heat , and for dysphoria , you can download those ovulation tracking apps that give little reminders .

In my source , I often had to take suppressants before going out in public , so focus on that during heat - have reminders on your phone that you need to take vitamins before going out to school / work / out public . Imagining that the vitamins are suppressants can help a lot with dysphoria + vitamins can be gotten just over the counter ( commonly omega 3 fish oil , magnesium or vitamin d ) .

Make nests . I see people say nests are only when someone is in heat , which is wrong , nest can be made whenever the fuck you want - if you wanna be comfortable ? make a nest lmao . But there is also no rules to what makes a nest . All that matters is that you're comfortable , it can just be blankets and pillows , plushie toys , or even clothes that make you feel calm . Some inspo if you're stuggling : inspo .. INSPO .. inspo .

More euphoria - go perfume shopping and figure out what your scent is . You can also assign a scent to your partner . You can buy the said perfume that you assign to yourself / your partner . During heats , you can cover yourself in the perfume - or when nesting , you can use the partner perfume to make you feel more comfortable .

You can set yourself rules based on your cycles . Example ; i generally , for whatever reason , cannot drink beer when i can feel something coming on - never know why , but my mind just sort of , thinks it makes sense ? I've heard that this is common for other omegas , just weird rules that they believe will " help them conceive" upon instinct , even if it doesn't make much sense . But you can set these sort of rules to yourself , any sort . I've heard some have hydrophobia during pre-heat , some claim that eating a specific food is ' bad ' , ect .

Hope these were even just a bit helpful , good luck <3

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not flushing the toilet to prove a point to my partner, then calling him out for it?

my partner (24M) and i (24F) live together. he regularly forgets to flush the toilet after shitting. it goes like this: he takes his morning shit while the shower heats up -> he decides to flush after his shower bc he thinks it'll make the shower cold otherwise (it doesn't, i've tested this, but he doesn't believe me) -> i leave for work -> he promptly forgets to flush -> his smelly dump steeps in the toilet all day -> the whole apartment reeks when i get home -> i flush, turn on the bathroom fan, and febreeze -> the smell is gone when he gets home -> i remind him to please flush when he poops -> he insists he never forgets and it must've been me -> the cycle continues

today i had a doctor's appointment right after work. i was planning to go straight there after work, and told my partner as such so he wouldn't be concerned when i wasn't home when he got home. well, i forgot my wallet, so i ran home after work and decided to use the bathroom before leaving. as soon as i opened the front door i could tell that yet again he forgot to flush. i was tired of dealing with this so i peed, didn't flush, and left it for him to come home to for once. when i got home from my appointment the whole apartment REEKED of febreeze, lmao. i asked him what happened, and he said that one of the cats had a really smelly shit. i said "yeah, it was definitely the cats and not you forgetting to flush after shitting once again". he ripped off his headset (he was gaming) and snapped at me not to embarrass him like that when he was on voice chat with his friends (i didn't know). i don't feel bad about it, but i guess i did technically lie about going straight from work to the doctor's and omitting the part where i came home and didn't flush to prove a point to him. and maybe giving him shit for it (no pun intended) was an asshole move. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[transhawks]

Probably because Dabi is not a child lmao. It is cringe af to want to see an adult man acting like a little pet to his childhood abuser and think of it like a nice cute thing. As if Dabi wasn't already fucked up enough.

This is a pretty fucked up way of looking at it.

"pet". So, a lot of abused as kids adults still have contact with their abusers. Maybe they have no other way of having survival and do it for financial reasons, maybe the abusers are their only support network. But aside from the "having to", you're missing another big part of the puzzle here. A lot of us love our abusers and acknowledge that as a part of them. And while the kneejerk reaction is "you shouldn't, they don't deserve it", I want to point out how fucking invalidating it feels to be told that it's "hate your abuser for what they've done" or "they're your family, you must forgive" as the only options. I've always said I want more media and stories where people like me can walk away or cut ties with abusive family because I don't think there's enough of them BUT I also don't want to shame or hurt people who want/need their own resolution of still being in contact or considering their abusers family. It's unfair to act like this a zero sum game.

No one wants Touya to "be a little pet" to Endeavor. Or at least I don't. But acknowledging it's love that fuels this and it's love that is very much a solution is a core part of the manga. It's sickening to me that you reduced the complexity of the Todoroki storyline like this, not going to lie.

And! He's fucked up! The whole story is fucked up! The whole point of Dabi, and Shouto, and just the Todoroki family is about how abuse and their societal expectations can fuck you up! Abuse doesn't often produce well-adjusted, logical or rational individuals, you have to work to undue to the literal brain damage it does to you! That's one of the whole issues with ABUSE, you know????

Dabi was emotionally abused and neglected and the root cause is so much because he genuinely loved his father, who did not know how to be an actual father and was too scared to learn/own up to his own failures. That produced this cycle. Wanting that core characterization of him to be acknowledged in fanon is not wanting Dabi to be a pet. It's wanting people to actually fucking engage with the material we are GETTING.

Let's be clear - the manga is ending with Dabi reuniting with his family. He's currently passed out and his father essentially trying to shield his family's bodies with his own body. This is not the kind of thing that's going to lead to "well, damn, i'm out of here" from Dabi. Maybe it will in a few years when there's so much more agency on Touya's part where he can choose the relationship he wants going forward. Recovery is never a straight line, and each child can define the relationship on their own terms, but it's absolutely clear that Dabi wanted that closeness and acknowledgment from his family NOW. He literally asks why it took so long in his near-death heat haze. And that means Touya and Enji will have to figure out a new relationship. If that bothers you, if you really wanted a revenge fantasy rather than an ending that relies on empathy and accountability going forward, then this is not the manga for you.

[olympeline]

Love love love the omega verse fruk content! But, what do we think about omega Arthur accidentally getting pregnant in the 16th century and voila, FACE fam is born… something something “nation people don’t get pregnant even if they’re presenting omega and going through heat” but then new land is discover and “oops” turns out there is a reason why nation people have reproductive cycles

Oh nonny, do not unleash these thoughts on me! I tell you they will take root 🥺

See? Now I’m posting about it. I hope you’re happy! 😩

If this happened, I’m guessing it would be because of a very specific sets of circumstances. Otherwise nation-people don’t reproduce like humans do. When a new land is discovered, a successful settler population is established, with the main bulk of the settlers coming from an omega nation, and a significant portion coming from their alpha partner. And it had to be part of the New World, maybe? Like the clue is in the name. Just something about the Old World that makes it so no new nation-people are born the human way there any more. They used to be but it happened so long ago, when the Old World was new, that now not even China remembers. It’s become like an old wives’ tale to the nation folk. Anyway, all these boxes have to be ticked otherwise the new colony/nation-person comes into being the “normal” way and just appears one day. I kinda like this idea actually. Like a/b/o nations can have kids but such rare situations have to arise that they almost never do? And reproductive knowledge is still a loooot of guesswork back then too, so.

Soooo Francis and Arthur don’t bother with even the primitive precautions they had at the time. Why would they? The NA twins are the first new nation-people born this way in thousands of years, so the Dover pair had no idea they needed to be careful. Just carried on with their usual fooling around every time Arthur’s heat came, including on the shores of the New World. Like, literally on the shore, maybe? Francis is already there with the French colonists when he senses Arthur is near. Goes miles down the coastline close to where the English settlers are. Headcanon here that nation-people can travel much faster than normal humans so this doesn’t take him months, lol. Finds an English ship anchored and their personification alone on the beach. In heat and giving off an aura of STAY AWAY NORMAL HUMANS I LOVE YOU BUT FOR NO SPECIFIC REASON ENGLAND NEEDS SOME ALONE TIME WITH HIS FUTURE MATE ANCIENT ENEMY WHO HE STILL TOTALLY HATES SO GO INTO THE SETTLEMENT AND LEAVE YOUR MOTHERLAND BE UNTIL HE CALLS YOU, OKAY?

Arthur is all curled up in the sand like an overheated, grumpy merman. Scolds Francis for making him wait, then pulls him down and won’t even let Francis move them off the beach until they’ve done it a few times. Something about this heat has made it almost as bad as the first one and it started coming on halfway across the Atlantic. No amount of whining from Francis about sand in his hair or his new clothes getting ruined is going to make Arthur wait a moment longer for that knot. Even after Francis puts his foot down when the tide starts coming in and drags Arthur inland, they still keep at it. Marathon session that goes on and on until they’re both sore, sticky, and totally exhausted.

Francis: Needy this time weren’t we, mon lapin?

Arthur: Mmmm…*Sated omega sounds followed by three day sleep*

Francis stays by Arthur’s side and brings him food when he wakes up. He can’t explain why. He just…really wants to. Struts and sashays right into the English settlement, commandeers a kitchen and supplies, and just dares them to object, lmao. No one is that dumb! So Arthur gets a French feast when he wakes up. Then Francis keeps hanging around and staying close. Eventually a secretly pleased but outwardly embarrassed tsundere Arthur has to shoo him away back to his own lands. The food and aftercare are nice but people might start to talk and suspect, you know? They’re still supposed to be enemies.

Afterwards life carries on and things go back to normal. They get distracted by the day-to-day routine of being nations. So much so that Francis fails to notice when Arthur doesn’t call on him for help with his heats. It’s only when Arthur misses a third time that he starts to wonder. But then, Arthur was a late bloomer and their cycles are always a little wacky. Not so weird to skip a heat or two then have several close together. Francis isn’t too worried and neither is Arthur. Then he starts getting other weird symptoms. Often at hilariously inopportune times:

Arthur: *Mid Anglo-Spanish naval battle* Die, Catholic dog! You…

Antonio:….Yes?

Arthur:…One moment, please. *Dashes to the side of the ship to throw up*

Antonio:…Comida inglesa, ni siquiera una vez.

We’ve basically entered a pregnancy focused romantic comedy at this stage, lol. Not that anyone realises for a long time, Francis and Arthur included. It should be obvious: Arthur throwing up, not getting his heats, the alphas around him (even his enemies) suddenly not wanting to hurt him as much and pulling their punches when they fight, Francis wanting to stick around and be by his side, etc. It shouldn’t take a genius to work out what’s happening. But remember, hardly anyone knows Arthur is an omega at this point. Plus this kind of nation-person pregnancy is something that had passed into antiquity and become a myth. So everyone’s density is justfied.

In the end, it’s Alasdair who works it out first. He’s an alpha and Arthur’s older brother so his own protective instincts had to be going crazy. Which, on top of all the other changes Arthur is going through, the biggest telltale is his scent. Arthur’s brothers know him best out of everyone and, as the group’s sole alpha, Alasdair’s nose picks up what should be impossible. He thinks he’s wrong for months but the evidence keeps piling up. One morning he comes in to find Arthur slumped over with his head in a bucket as has become a common occurrence lately. Then, while Arthur’s good and distracted, Alasdair sneaks up to scent him. Then rips up his shirt and sees that barely there, slightly rounded middle. There’s no denying it then. Arthur’s omega nature and his “arrangement” with Francis was an open secret in the British Isles family. Arthur’s hastily put together potions and spells could disguise his scent enough to fool other nation-people, but not them. They all suspected but none of them, not even Alasdair, ever said anything out of respect for Arthur’s feelings. They knew what a blow it must have been for him. In spite of everything, they still care for the idiot, you know? He’s still their little brother.

Alasdair accuses Arthur in his ordinary, ultra blunt, Scottish way. Arthur brushes him off as being crazy. Alasdair leaves and comes back with Dylan and one of his books on the ancient history of their kind. Dylan is convinced, Arthur isn’t. You know how he is: denial all the way, baby! Dylan says Arthur is sick because the child needs to spend time in the New World where it will be born. Needs to soak up the energy of the land and the like. Otherwise…bad things, for both of them. Arthur says “you’re all crazy stop being crazy go away, crazy acting brothers of mine” but Alasdair says “right, then!” and just grabs Arthur up. Then, with Dylan’s help, they bundle their furious, spitting sibling onto a ship headed for Virginia. Alasdair goes with him. Meanwhile Dylan heads across the channel to tell Francis (“DYLAN DON’T YOU DARE DYLAN I WILL KILL YOU I SWEAR IF YOU SAY ONE WORD TO THE FROG-” - Arthur, probably). Francis is stunned by the news. Stunned and…cautiously ecstatic? I know he really wishes he could have a family in canon. Oh man, he would so want to believe this is real. But also be so afraid to get his hopes up because it sounds impossible. The drama! We love it. 🥺 Francis jumps on the fastest ship they have and sails to the English settlement to be reunited with Arthur. After a hilariously awkward conversation between the Auld Alliance duo (“…so, seems ye knocked up my little brother” “…oui, seems I did” “…aye, carry on, then” “merci”) Francis is allowed into the bedroom to see Arthur. Who’s still a Scottish prisoner, still in denial, and sulking like mad in a nest he made. Don’t ask him why he keeps wanting to make nests these days even though he hasn’t had a heat in ages. Well, you can ask but the only answer you will get is shut up and go away, dickhead. Arthur Bloody Kirkland is the face of the United Bloody Kingdom and he can make bloody nests if he bloody wants to! *Hissy tsundere noises*

Arthur tries to bluster at Francis to go away or better yet help him throttle Alasdair who’s obviously gone mental, but Francis doesn’t give him the chance. Just pounces and kisses Arthur, cheats shamelessly by using wicked lips and fingers on the omega spot on Arthur’s neck, making him go all loose and purry. Then Francis presses both their hands to Arthur’s stomach and they feel something move.

One of the NA twins - probably Alfred, I mean let’s be honest - waking up to say hello.

Even Arthur can’t deny it after that. Shocked and furious, he tries to rant at Francis (“WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO ME YOU FUCKING FROG! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! I’LL FUCKING SKIN YOU FOR THIS-!” - Arthur, definitely) but Francis is crying too hard to notice. Then he’s laughing and sobbing at the same time: hugging Arthur, professing his love, and kissing his lips off. Arthur’s shock and fear based rage stands no chance in the face of Francis’s thousand years plus heartfelt yearning for a family. He gives in and lets Francis have his moment of ecstasy. The kissing soon evolves into something else and Francis almost loses control and gives Arthur a mating bite, but pulls back at the last second. They’re not ready for that. Arthur noticed. Arthur didn’t say he did. Arthur is secretly grateful and feels his heart flutter even so.

Things go pretty smoothly after the big revelation, all things considered. High emotions settle and they start planning. Arthur stays in the New World and so does Francis. They have their people build a small cabin on the border between their territories so Arthur can have some peace away from curious human eyes. Alasdair goes back to Britain and takes over as leader of the UK for the time being. Dylan scrapes together every bit of knowledge about nation-person pregnancy he can (not much and not all of it useful) and brings it to the FrUK couple along with the usual books on human birth. They all decide to keep it secret from the rest of their kind. Otherwise everyone would want to come and see this miraculous anomaly. Arthur is stressed enough as it is even if he is starting to come round to the idea. No one wants him and the baby to become objects of curiosity. Then the time comes and Francis is with Arthur for it. Getting screamed at, getting his fingers crushed, taking promises that Arthur will FUCKING MURDER HIM FOR THIS-AAAAARRGGHHH!!! without complaint. It goes just like an ordinary human birth. The only surprise is two babies pop out instead of the one they expected. Arthur names the oldest Alfred, after his great king. Francis, when he finally stops sobbing, names the other Matthew. They know by instinct that their true names are America and Canada. When Francis nuzzles Arthur’s neck and kisses that special place with a soft whisper of “mon amour” Arthur knows he’s asking permission. He says “yes” and Francis bites him, leaving his mark as their new sons sleep between them.

Afterwards Arthur moans and complains that the bite was a stupid idea and now he has to wear a damn neckerchief or cravat even in the fucking tropics, but he doesn’t really mind. It’s him who orders a pair of gold rings for them to wear, hidden by gloves or else worn on chains under their shirts. ❤️ Yeah, they become mates much sooner in this version of events, heh. It’s still a secret though, even to their kids before their old enough not to accidentally reveal it to anyone else. Alfred belongs to America, so he lives in the English colonies. Matthew is of Canada, so Francis raises him until the British win the French Canadian territory and Matthew moves in with Arthur instead. They’re still national personifications and have to obey the politics of the day. So they can’t live together as a family as if they were human. Sad, but we know it turns out all right in the end. Peace comes eventually and they can be a family then. And that’s where I’ll leave this AU, I think. This post is already pretty long.

Hope you enjoyed reading! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[druidshollow]

Waitwaitwait

WHAT HAPPENS TO PHRASES AFTER THE COLLAPSE?

DOES SAINT DO THE THING

I NEED TO KNOW

oh i have a page in a sketchbook page about this! one sec

no sorry to say but phrases does Not get to ascend, i think they just sit there until their systems are overcome by the cold and theyre just. beyond fixing, beyong consciousness. if its any consolation it wouldnt take very long. theyre so far north that the cold is already so encompassing that when there arent two or more iterators near eachother they dont emit enough heat to melt enough water to keep themselves alive under normal circumstances. now the entire world is coming into an ice age and the poles are getting c o l d. soon theres not enough water to sustain phrases and nights, and with phrases age (they were like. midearly gen 2) their structure is giving in on them. nights falls shortly after them

my headcanon for the slugcats follows canon pretty closely, and i like to think moon's group was pretty central, so saint wouldnt get anywhere near phrases' group. in my heacanon the events of saints campaign are just saints experience as an echo forever. i guess you could argue that before that saint went around and ascended everyone then went to the sea, but idk why would it just be moon and pebbles forever, what makes them different from all the others yknow? maybe theyre the first ones saint ascends? idk whatever lmao im losing my point which is no i dont think any of my ocs got ascended by saint

which means that they all just slowly died, like an iterator naturally does without support in a dying world. i would consider this functioning in the cycle like death of old age, and they would all start an entirely new cycle, with no memory of who they were before. maybe they incarnate into like a...... yeek relative evolved to better withstand the cold or something idk

its right below you buddy. the water? right there! tantalizingly close. its so so close, just sitting around your structure but oh you cant drink it, cant reach it because its frozen. its too cold. and now your pipes are freezing. and youre starving. and its there but you cant reach it and your body is giving up on you a

[vashsmunch]

I'll be here.

Vash x GN! Reader

Synopsis: you're spiralling, and someone comes to help

Warnings: mentions of self-destructive thoughts, allude to suicidal ideations

A/N: third one i've made of these self-indulgent comfort shit LMAO, but don't judge me.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  

Suffocating. Stifling. Drowning. 

Your hand flexed, fingers curling in on themselves to try and distract from the feeling of your chest concaving. 

In and out. In and out. 

Rhymathtically and almost robotically, in hopes that it would quell the darkness approaching you. Everything it touched withered away like death itself had grazed them with its bony claws. It was terrifying, at least it should've been. You couldn't help but feel like, at this moment, "death" wouldn't be so bad after all. A graceful ending to the turbulent turmoil that was the hell you were living in. Even purgatory would've been more desirable. 

God, it hurt. It was the type of pain that settled deep into the crevices of your soul, the kind that lay in wait for the day you just gave up. It's a quiet predator, one that doesn't care how long it takes. Patient, deadly, and counting the seconds until your eventual demise. You couldn't even find it in yourself to give a single fuck. 

There comes a point where the pain, the agony, just becomes routine. It becomes as regular as waking up to scroll on your phone, as simple as brushing your teeth. It doesn't hurt as badly as it did before, but you can't help but feel that you'll die with it clutching on for dear life. Maybe you deserved this. Things like this only happen to bad people, right? What are you, if not the most horrible person to ever exist, if this is the kind of pain you were experiencing? 

"Hey... Hello?"

Suddenly, you couldn't breathe. The darkness was closing in, and it was draining every single breath of air out of your lungs. Tears started to build up in your eyes and stream down your cheeks as you shook in fear. It wasn't fair. You were just trying your best. Why does this happen? Why does this always happen? Was your best not good enough? How much longer would you be forced to cycle through this barbaric game the universe decided to play with you?

"Look at me... Please look at me."

You shut your eyes and let out quiet sobs as you felt a shadow overtake your body. It was getting tougher for you to tell what was real, and you couldn't even feel the sharp sting of pain from digging your nails into the flesh of your palm. 

Someone... please. Save me. I can't... I can't keep doing this. It hurts. This hurts.

PLEASE. SOMEONE PLEASE.

A calloused hand wraps around yours, squeezing gently. An instant burst of heat radiates throughout your arm, warming every cold crack that had been seared into the skin.

"Hey."

You look up to see cerulean irises boring into yours, accompanied by a tense expression on the person's face. 

Vash.

The two of you stared at each other as the salty streams continued to pour down your face. You couldn't be bothered to wipe them, to hell with your decency. It was funny, though, with him, you never felt the need to be anything more. Maybe that was a bit selfish because, with you, he was nothing short of perfect. A bumbling idiot who always did his best to comfort you even when his own demons were clawing at his back. But who was the idiot now? The one who said nothing as he took you into his arms, or the one who clutched at his jacket, crying until there was nothing left? You felt him rub your back as he whispered into your ear, and you couldn't even decipher the words. It just felt so good. 

There weren't any words exchanged for a while; whether it was minutes or hours, you couldn't tell. Vash silently picked you up to cradle you in his lap, nuzzling his head into your neck. Slowly, the darkness started to fade away and unsink its claws from the flesh of your shaking body. He seemed to get impossibly closer as you melted into his touch, just craving some feeling of stability. How you wished you could have this all the time, just this comfortable silence. 

"I love you."

You didn't flinch, and one would think you hadn't heard him if it weren't for the way you held him tighter. Because with him, it was never too much or too over the top. Everything always felt right, and that's something you'd treasure for as long as you could. It was Vash the Stampede, after all.

"I love you too."

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♥

it's wednesday again!!!! i woke up weirdly early today lmao, and i've been editing all day.

tagged by the lovely @thequeenofthewinter ! <3

tagging the fantastic @skyrim-forever @umbracirrus @archangelsunited @saltymaplesyrup @orfeoarte

@oblivions-dawn @vivifriend @kookaburra1701 @changelingsandothernonsense @dirty-bosmer and anyone else who wishes to join in this week!! <3

this week, i bring a long (1.6k word) section of Chapter 42 of Cycle of the Serpent. the trio are on their way to Wolfskull Cave, and who knows what they'll find there… fun fact, this chapter (as of rough edits, not completed) is 11.5k words, my longest for the fic yet.

Clouds bowed over the distant horizon. The Sea of Ghosts had the peculiar honor of being a divide between Haafingar and Morthal, swamp and rocky shores, the flow of the saltwater carried into an estuary and the Karth River not too far from the Dragon Bridge lumber mill. Athenath thought of his father. He'd been a lumber worker when their mother had met him, and continued the line of work even when it took him away from the city of Anvil proper for days on end. He would come home, and sleep, and work, the post-Great War economy a wobbling, flightless thing, especially for the family of Mer. The map laid out the names of towns in dark ink, marked with the routes the trio had traced, spindly along the pre-illustrated paths. The road, which the trio had become familiar with and moreso by every trip out of the city, bore them west. The sun straggled through the mountains that crowded up one side of the way, laced through the limbs of the trees which bit down on a thick wind off the beach. Athenath pulled their knapsack tighter as his curls whipped at his cheek, scrunching their face as more tickled the back of his neck. The armor's stitching, courtesy of Emeros, held up well, and kept them warm. The leather held off the sun's burn and cold breeze, but in the summer-end heat, did its job a little too well in staving off the chill of the wind. Autumn was near its beginnings, however, and they could glean the slightest gold on the edges of the leaves. Hearthfire was near its end, as was the summer. Soon, the green grasses would grow brittle and flax-yellow, and the trees would be bare, aside from the evergreens and conifers that pinned the horizon together. Soon, maybe, this would all be over.

The inside-of-outside-of sensation which made the potent mixture of his distrust and revulsion had only grown in strength since the day before, as if it was coming to a grand crescendo. It snuck up on the Altmer, a spider on the shoulder or a whisper in the dark. He looked to Emeros and it coiled like an adder. He looked to Wyndrelis and it growled in warning like a dog. He looked to the sky and thought of the things the others had done to keep them alive, what they'd all done to keep one another alive, and it grew until it choked on its own ends, and suffocated under the weight of the reminders. The nights together in laughter or in silence, however few there were, still burnt brighter than what unseen hands tried to extinguish them. The cave was not far from the town of Dragon Bridge, past the farm where the chickens' clucking took up the air, along with the slightly sour, earthy-wet stench of livestock. The odor hung as the trio passed by, waving to the woman working to harvest what her garden had given her before it all went to ruin. The passing look of the idyllic spot before the sea, close to a town but just out of the way, brought back a gnawing of want for Riverwood. It was the first scant amount of peace that Athenath had experienced in this land, and the tall pines and looming mountains were a longing he couldn't put out of mind. Sure, there had been battle in the barrow and a hunt for a strange wolf and the skinning of it which left them nauseated and pale, but it was, in the hue of nostalgia, a fond memory. The time before the trek to Whiterun and the battle at the watchtower, the time before the Dragonborn. He did not want to know what it meant to carry that title. It wasn't theirs to take, they thought as they continued their leisurely pace in the middle of the other two, Emeros at the back, as though keeping watch for some invisible force, the Altmer's nerves on edge at the sight. Wyndrelis stepped in a slow stride, having spent early morning examining soul gems, most empty. He'd said something to himself about needing an enchantment table, and had scrutinized his mace while saying so, but all else had been nothing to the Altmer, who knew only the barest amount about magic. It was all around them, and for a high elf, knowing little magic was a shame, their ability with it ceasing at the fickle flame that they sometimes had luck in making with their fingers. But he'd had their excuses - raised in the Imperial province, in the time just after a war with elves, magic was a distrustful beast which skulked all around the air and deep into the earth. In the wake of such a war, Wyndrelis had not been daunted. He'd reached into the fabric of the world around them, took hold of the magic, and knit it into himself to make it his own.

And so had the wizards, stalking shadows of a cave hidden from the city and towns and farms, out of the way of all, and taking down ten men in one blow. Athenath swallowed dryly. The image of the cart full of stinking bodies wouldn't leave them, no matter how many times they scrubbed at their eyes with his curled fists and summoned spots to their vision. It was a mark in their mind like a long, broken scar. It took the story of the cave from tale to tangible. It made it real. And Athenath had, somewhere deep down, hoped it was merely myth. "We'll be heading up Mount Kilkreath," Emeros announced from his position at the rear, map clutched in his gauntlet-clad fingers. His gear made thin noises, cloth wrapping around the bottles inside his knapsack. Without his old experiments, he'd made more place for useful potions, and had been quick to purchase ingredients for healing and disease-cures, apparently spending the prior day after Athenath had stormed off in Angeline's Aromatics and working at the alchemy station and asking questions about the flora of Haafingar, where to find certain things, what she recommended for potency in the region, putting the hurried mixtures together. They would not be nearly as effective without time. Emeros had lamented the fact that morning while tucking them into his bag, sharpening his words until the warning was clear: that he would not be of much use if the other two became injured.

"That's not too far," Athenath remarked with a shrug and a small, apprehensive pause, "so Wolfskull Cave is close, then?" "It's practically across the road, we must have missed it by a mile or two the last time we were in the area." Wyndrelis grunted a small noise, as though this were his reply. As though he, too, were not at peace with the arrangement. They could have waited, or not gone to the cave at all. Captain Aldis was the authority in matters like this, but he was going to wait a whole two days to gather the people for the job. This was two days that none of the trio thought the city had. There was an electric quality to the air, like that shiver down the neck before a fearful wailing, that held the clouds at bay and kicked the roots up that grounded the trio's patience. The stench of rotten fruit and musty, humid chambers, the ache of the sleepless nights and the hum of a mood that wasn't theirs. The choice had fallen to the wayside long ago. "So, when we get there, what do we even do?" Athenath's question stuck in the air like a pin in a gown, the other two pausing, strides coming to a slow stop. The trio looked between one another, haggard eyes meeting haggard eyes. Emeros tightened a hand on the strap of his quiver slung over his waist, his bow in firm place on his back. "I'll take anything that's at a distance. I would recommend, however, we keep our heads down. We're merely here to investigate. Should we not see the need for combat, then we shouldn't make it necessary." Wyndrelis curled his lip. "Corpulus said something of wizards, correct?" A beat passed. A nod from the other two. "I don't expect this to be peaceful. I'll try to ward off spells, but you two will have to do the fighting, in that case." The warmth of Dawnbreaker collected in Athenath's awareness. The sword would serve them well if they went up against the undead, but weren't swords only as good as the swordsman? Their palms went clammy at the thought. They were not exactly a skilled swordsman, or fighter of any capacity. They preferred to hide in the shadows and dodge the light, to keep their footsteps quiet and to leave no trace of himself, not to fight up against anyone or anything.

Athenath tied their hair back with the scarlet ribbon in their pocket. He tightened it a handful of times to make sure it would hold, and drew in a long, tense breath. Their hair always had a habit of getting in his face at the wrong time. They wouldn't risk their own body betraying him in a moment of needed focus. "It's just up the way," Emeros looked to the figure of Meridia, the statue which grew closer with each step, "let's mind our surroundings and try to be quiet from this point onwards." The other two didn't reply, as though the idea had been taken to heart in the fullest extremes.

[beemers-hell]

Like you did with Doc, can we get your Tricky headcanons please (smiley emoji)

Same format as last time then!

Tricky HCs!

Around ~60-65ish

AMAB gender whatever, doesn't really give a fuck to label himself anything specific Period, he uses "clown" to refer to himself in both the first and third person anyway

Around ~6'07"ish

Mexican (I'm not projecting)

The only thing Hofnarr had going on with him in life was being autistic asf which led him to being very skittish and socially withdrawn but academically superior, and being autistic still applies to Tricky, though he doesn't face the same challenges nor have the same academic desires he did when he was alive bc of him lowkey being a reality bending God atp lmao. He can do whatever he wants now so if something clashes with the autism negatively then he can instantly get rid of it (I'm not projecting)

Aside from that, the only afflictions he's got going on are what you'd expect of a fuckin 60 year old rotting zombie lol

He is still the genius he was when he was Hofnarr! And he's not trying to hide it or anything like that! His interests have just shifted from the academic world to frivolous things that bring him instantaneous satisfaction, like DJing and Partying and Killing People, obvs lol. This isn't to say he doesn't still get enjoyment out of flexing his brain and putting his smarts to use, he just acts much more on impulse and short term dopamine rushes, as opposed to how Hofnarr acted mainly on careful methodical planning and long term dopamine cycles.

He had a thing going on with Jeb when he was still Hofnarr, though neither of them really "pursued" it in a very Definitive or Official capacity. It was very much a "What are we?" kind of situation ykwim. He did of course care very deeply for Christoff but Jeb was too emotionally closed off to truly let him in like that, so it was mainly relegated to chance intimate moments and the occasional heat of the moment "incidents" lol, but they missed out on something real. Tricky, even now, knows there's a part of him that still feels that way for Jeb but he knows damn well that they're not gonna have what they could've all that time ago, so he's more content to just playfully tease him and dick around and get on his nerves than pursue something more, Jeb can't keep up with Tricky's insanity the same way others could. This esp applies in dad au, where Jeb is essentially Boxxy's second dad since he helped raise her, but he's not "with" Tricky like that.

Despite what you'd expect of a homicidal freak like Tricky is, he's incredibly social and down to hang and do whatever cause he's always in search of a good time! Except if he's pissed off about something with Hank or the AAHW but I digress. Dude fuckin loves clubbing and headlining sets for them, he loves breaking it down on the dancefloor, of course half the time he parties it ends in him fuckin massacring the joint he's chilling at but tbh, maybe you just need to get used to the "killin" part of "chillin n killin"

The visual of the static and words that pops up around him in the series obvs is just a cool visual thing with him but I like to think that he can just like…do that shit lol. Like if he so feels inclined, he'll project screams and static into the minds of people, which effects them in such a way where their brain functions are numbed to hell and they practically cease being able to make decisions, form thoughts, or even use brain power to move their bodies n shit, and they're just subjected to internal screaming in addition to whatever the fuck Tricky feels like doing to them.

Whenever he scuffles with Hank, he Especially tries to not use any cheap tricks to get a leg up over him, bc Hank is one of the few people who can actually give him a challenge in a fight and that makes things WAAAAAAY more exciting and fun, so doing some underhanded shit he could easily pull bc of his reality bending powers just makes shit less fun, and he values fun over anything else. Unless Hank actually manages to piss him the fuck off during a fight, in which cause He won't give a fuck anymore, and he'll go full fuck it we ball mode n try whatever to kill his ass, like going flame demon mode n chasing him n shit like that

When he talks he audibly uses tone indicators out loud, like verbally saying "slash J" or "slash Joke" out loud when he speaks. he doesn't do it to be courteous or whatever he just thinks its sounds funny as hell

[whxre-bxby]

I just finished reading your fic "Cursed By Blue" (AND IM SO IN LOVE, fr marry me 💍) and i was hoping you could make a different version but with Ja and Prager?

I KNEW this was coming LMAO (let's go on a honeymoon) here you go <3

"Cursed By Blue" 2.0

f. Recom Y/N x Recom Prager x Recom Ja

(I can't find a gif of Ja) heartbreak hotel

"Cursed By Blue"1. Masterlist

Summary: The recom team is out on another mission, exploring the woods in search of Sully. However, the ladies become inconvenienced by a certain seasonal feeling they didn’t expect. It hits Y/n the hardest and it’s not long before the others understand what’s happening. While everyone fights their instincts, the only option Y/N sees available is to run. 

WARNINGS: SMUT, force with consent, predator/prey, heat fucking, heat cycles, penetration, unprotected sex, breeding kink, quickie, Z-Dog absolutely destroying everyone

Word Count: 4555

We were nearing the weekend. Not that that affected us. Lyle told me it was Friday today and I was surprised because I had completely lost track of time. But it didn’t really matter what day it was because we didn’t get time off anyway. Finding Jake was our number one priority and no breaks other than sleep were allowed. 

So here we were again, walking deeper into the forest of Pandora. It had just passed lunch time and we were here since early morning. 

No one was tired though, not yet. We weren’t allowed to be either. 

Today also happened to be warmer than usual so I wasn't wearing my usual long-sleeved attire and pants. I dressed like Walker usually did, in a sports bra and shorts. She and Z-Dog decided to wear tank tops like most of the others. 

The forest grew quieter the more we distanced ourselves from the RDA base and the city. Soon, we could only hear the wind blowing between the leaves and the distant calls of animals. That and our heavy footsteps. 

The Colonel and Lyle started the day off by leading us into the woods. As the hours passed by, the line mixed since everyone had a different walking pace and now it was Z-Dog and me leading at the front. Walker was close behind. 

I had been excessively drinking for the last 30-45 minutes and I wasn’t sure why. Z-Dog glanced over at me when she saw me reach for another water bottle. 

“That’s your third one already. Are you okay”? She asks, watching me gulp it down. I swallow most of the water and inhale sharply, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. 

“I don’t know.” I say, gasping for air. “Maybe I’m dehydrated?” 

“Don’t think so, we always drink the same amount and I’m fine.” Z-Dog says. We continue walking for a while longer in silence, thinking. Then Z reaches for her water and starts drinking it like she’s been running. 

I laugh a little but seeing her drink made me feel thirsty again. 

I reach for my water only to notice I have a few drops left. I down the remaining liquid and hold the bottle to my head. It seemed to be getting really warm. 

Turning around, I open my mouth and want to say something to Walker only to see her finishing her own bottle of water. I look behind me fully and no one else is drinking. 

“What. The. Fuck.” I say, feeling genuinely confused. Walker looks up at me with water drizzling down her chin and Z turns around. 

I wheeze and Z laughs and we wait for Walker to catch up so we can walk together. 

“Do you have any water left?” I ask her, knowing we at the front drank ours. 

“No, that was my last bottle.” she says and I notice how heavy my breathing is becoming. 

“Wait, you ran out too?” she asks and Z-Dog scoffs. 

“Yeah, been drinkin’ like we ran a marathon.” she says and I nod.

“I’ll ask the others.” I say before turning around and seeing Mansk behind me.

“Can I have some of your water?” I ask, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead. Compared to us, Mansk is not sweating at all. He’s wearing his usual long-sleeved jacket over his tank top. 

The man glances up at me and his eyebrows furrow for a split second before he nods and hands one of his bottles over. 

“You ran out already?” he asks while I open it and drink about half. 

I wipe my mouth again, closing my eyes for a second and nodding. “Yeah.” I breathe out. “Thanks.” I say, handing it back to him. 

“Y’ alright?” he asks again taking the bottle back and I nod, not thinking much of it. Mansk doesn’t seem convinced. 

Ja overheard our conversation and sped up his walk to catch up to us. When Mansk noticed his presence he seemed a little relieved. 

“Is she okay?” he asks his colleague. Ja was the medic of the group so he would know. He took a glance at me and also thought of what I suggested. 

“Did you drink enough?” he asks me and I nod. 

“Yeah, I drank all my water and some of Mansk’s.” I scoff, wiping sweat from my forehead again. 

Ja presses the back of his hand against my cheek and then my forehead. 

“Shit, you’re burning up.” he said, scanning over me. 

I was feeling extremely warm. My skin felt like it was burning and my clothes suddenly felt tight and restrictive.

In front of us, Z-Dog and Walker are discussing something. 

Ja felt up my arm and checked my pulse while we were walking and Mansk stayed on my other side in case I was in fact not okay.

“Yeah, somethin’s definitely not right.” Ja announces to us, not quite sure how to help me. Mansk has his eyebrows furrowed, examining my behaviour. 

“They have it too.” I say, pointing at Z-Dog and Walker who now turn around. Walker is grimacing a little and Z looks worried. 

Mansk’s and Ja’s heads look up at them and they notice that they are breathing heavily and sweating just like me. Ja also takes note of the empty bottles in their hands. 

“Everthin’ okay up there?” the Colonel calls. It seems as though the others have noticed the small commotion and the medical check-up. 

Ja turns around, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Uh- no sir not really.” he calls back, stopping in his tracks to wait for Quaritch so that he can explain. Mansk and I keep walking and he watches me intently as I break out into a type of pant. My ears are pinned back and my tail is wildly flicking around behind me. My eyelids also happen to suddenly grow heavy and I keep them half-lidded. 

What snaps me out of my haze is Z calling my name. 

“Hey, Y/N come over here for a sec.” she says, turning around. Walker is running her hand down her face in what looks like frustration. 

I nod, jogging over and leaving Mansk behind. He’s still watching me, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

Neither Z nor Walker looks like they feel like joking around anymore.

“Have you read the manual?” she asks and it takes me a few seconds to realise she means the Na’vi Body data. 

“Yeah, of course, we had to.” I say, trying to play it cool. She raises an eyebrow and I sigh. 

“I stopped once I reached the shit about plants. It got boring.” I say and she nods, knowing damn well she didn’t read further than that either. 

“Walker read it, and it said somethin’ ‘bout a heat cycle.” Z says and I glance at Walker. 

“Yeah… we’re not dehydrated. I remember the symptoms. It’s happening right now.” Walker says, scanning my reddened face. 

“Does it burn?” Z asks and my ears perk forward for once, being relieved from the tense strain I kept them in the past half hour. 

“Everything burns.” I say. 

“You know what I mean.” she adds and I groan in frustration too. 

“Yeah.” I mumble. I can’t deny the heat that’s been forming between my legs. I tried ignoring it but it grew worse. 

“Do you feel, like-” Z says, gasping for air herself. “...uncontrollably horny?” she asks with a light laugh and Walker smirks. 

I have no shame admitting anything in front of them so I chuckle and answer. “More like painfully horny.” 

They laugh a little, struggling to even out their breathing. 

“We need to distance ourselves from them.” Walker says, glancing over her shoulder. “Especially you Y/N you seem to have it bad.” she chuckles, motioning to my panting self. “Otherwise we’re done for and this squad will no longer be as professional.” 

My eyes widen. “Wait- you’re joking right? It’ll go away like tomorrow. How would they know about this if we don’t tell them?” I ask and Walker opens her mouth to answer but before she can, my answer is handed to me differently. 

“You smell that?” someone says behind us. My heart stops pounding for a second. Right our new senses have us picking up more. 

“These cursed blue bitches.” I swear and Z breathily laughs, seeming to know how screwed we are. She’s passed the stage of denial and is now accepting our fate. 

We turn around and notice that Lyle was talking to Prager. Prager nodded and they stopped walking. Mansk had also stopped in his tracks, turning to them. Behind them, Ja, Quaritch, Brown, Lopez and the remaining team catch up and everyone comes to a halt. 

Quaritch walks between them and deeply inhales. He looks around, noticing how his soldiers are smelling what he is too. 

I feel my heart slowly drop and I hold on to Z-Dog for some comfort. All three of us are watching them, dreading their reaction. 

“What is it?” Lopez asks. 

“No idea, but it’s fuckin’ great.” Lyle chuckles and my breath catches in my throat.

 It seems to affect them too. As Lyle inhales, his own tail is swishing around behind him and his muscles flex. He’s growing restless and the recom’s are looking at their Colonel for an answer or instructions. 

My heart seems to stop beating when I see Ja turn to me. Prager’s gaze meets mine as well and it’s so intimidating which is unlike both of them. They’re watching my every movement and I take a step back, my grip on Z’s arm tightening.

“Oh fuck.” I whisper while barely moving my lips. I feel a little hazy again and start leaning against Z-Dog. She sighs looking more pissed than worried and catches me, trying to keep me upright. 

The soldiers follow Ja’s, Prager’s and the Colonel’s eyes and notice us standing a bit further away. 

“It ain’t dehydration, I can tell ya that.” Quaritch says, referring to Ja’s hypothesis of what might be happening. Seems like he read the manual too. 

The stupid excitement in my stomach has grown so big it’s making me feel sick. And all their eyes on us have me more nervous. 

"Do we kill them or ourselves?" Walker asks, not liking any of this.

“Can we leave?” I whisper to Z and she nods, staring down the others as if they would move when she looks away. 

“Yeah, come on.” she says, guiding me forwards. I take a wobbly step, almost stumbling. 

Walking won’t do it. I have so much adrenaline coursing through my veins I want to run away. 

I glance back, noticing everyone’s tense poses. Their eyes follow our every move, making them seem almost predatory. My only instinct now is to run. 

Z gives me a push and my legs take off. I start running and hear Walker and Z-Dog do the same behind me. There’s a commotion happening behind them and the next time I glance behind me, everyone is chasing after us. 

It was a miserable escape attempt, to be honest. We were already so out of breath compared to them, we really didn’t make it far. 

Z caught up to me because she was not affected by the heat as much as me. 

Within the next few seconds, I was tackled to the ground, luckily hitting the soft grass. I fall with a shriek and when I look up I see Z-Dog made it a little further but she’s down now too. 

I felt bodyweight on my back and a hand wrapped around the back of my neck. I couldn’t move. Z-Dog could and the man that pushed her was getting a beating right now. She wasn’t having any of it.

I cry out, feeling uncomfortable in this position. My chest was pressed into the ground and I was struggling to breathe. 

The feeling and the effects of the scent the recom’s picked up had everyone acting on their primal instincts. Most common sense was gone as their new bodies seemed to be overpowered by the will of nature. 

The scent had the soldiers feel just as worked up as the heat cycle did. Instinctively, they ran after the ‘potential mate’ they felt most attracted to because that was Eywa’s will. 

I couldn’t say anything, I felt completely overwhelmed and somehow, submitting to him felt like the right thing to do. My right mind would never let this happen but I couldn’t think of anything else but finding some relief in this agonising feeling. My body longed for this. 

“Shh- it’s alright.” A voice from above me cooed. “Just stop movin’.” 

My eyes shoot wide open and I recognise that it’s Ja. His hands found mine, and he held them together behind my back while leaning forward and speaking close to my ear. 

Another pair of heavy footsteps come to a halt close to me and I see how a weapon is thrown to the ground on my left. 

Ja is straddling me, keeping a knee on my lower back to pin me down while he removes the heavy medical equipment from his back. 

I whine and struggle beneath him again but this time his hand catches my jaw, holding my face still and making me look forwards. He leans down, pressing his face against the side of my head. 

“I know how to help you, princess. Quit the movin’.” he told me, almost snarling his words. 

Next to us I hear a shout of pain and see how Z-Dog has fought a man to the ground. At least she was going to be fine. Ja turns my head away from her, not wanting me to get any ideas from her. 

“Fuck- we really doin’ this?” Another person says and I realise Prager is here too. 

“Shut up and help me out here.” Ja replies, growing restless and impatient. 

The shouting in the distance is increasing and I hear Walker and Z-Dog just demolishing things while the Colonel is yelling and getting angry that equipment is being destroyed. 

Both Prager and Ja’s head’s shoot over to the commotion and they exchange looks. 

A gunshot suddenly makes me flinch and I want to turn my head to see what the actual fuck is happening but Ja doesn’t let me. 

Without hesitating another second, Ja moves off of me and both men hurl me to my feet, quickly dragging me behind a tree. I’m being pulled backwards so I finally get a small glimpse of the action and I notice that something has been set on fire. Looking at what I think are Z-Dog and Walker, I notice how they’ve put the fire between themselves and the others. There was too much going on. 

Suddenly I was being pushed down again and I landed on my knees. Prager and Ja had pulled me away from the others just enough to get some type of privacy. 

The last thing either of the men wanted was one of the others interfering with you. 

I move forwards, staying on my knees but leaning against one of my arms that I now placed on the ground. My free one wrapped around my middle section and I continued to pant. The sensations I felt were so odd. My body seemed to be buzzing and I was overwhelmed. 

Prager and Ja were hastily removing their vests and other equipment, knowing they didn’t have all day and they were not going to waste this opportunity. 

Footsteps jog over to me and Ja lands on his knees in front of me. I look up and see that his torso is bare. With the current state I’m in I can’t help but stare. 

He smirks, cupping my flushed cheek and making me look up at his face. 

“That’s right baby, you’ll get what you want.” he said. Since he was a medic, he had to know everything about the Na’vi body and he knew very well what I needed now. 

My eyes widen at his words as I can only imagine what he means. He chuckles and looks at his friend. 

“Ain’t that right, Prager?”

“Fuckin’ right.” Prager answers and moments later I hear a thud on the ground behind me. He too dropped to his knees and I heard him unbuckling his belt. Ja swiped a strand of hair from my face, brushing it back before smiling. We locked eyes again and he mirrored Prager’s actions, opening and removing his belt with one hand, making me swallow nervously. 

“You want this, don’t you baby?” Ja asked, making sure he and Prager were good to go. I nod, letting out another impatient whine while my fingers tug at the waistband of his pants. 

Ja chuckles, nodding at Prager before opening his pants. I watch with parted lips, not even noticing the drool leaking down the side of my mouth. 

Hands are around my waist and my own pants are being tugged down my legs. Prager pulls them off, throwing them to the side and rubbing over all of the newly exposed skin. He rested his hand on my ass, squeezing the flesh before pulling my panties to the side. His hand wrapped around my tail, lifting it into the air so that my wet cunt was exposed to him.

I shiver when the cool breeze hits my hot skin. Prager hums approvingly, tracing his fingers around my core before sliding his thumb through my folds. 

“Y/N?” Prager says from behind me and I look over my shoulder, seeing he discarded his pants. “Ready?” he asks, wanting to make sure I was still okay. 

I nod my head, breathily saying ‘yes’ because I was out of breath. To make it clear to him I push my hips back, pressing them right up against him. I feel his bare thighs press up against the back of mine and his now free dick is resting between my ass cheeks. 

“Fuckin’ hell…” he curses under his breath and Ja scoffs, wanting some attention too. 

I face forwards again, looking up at Ja who pulled his pants halfway down his thighs, revealing his own length to me. My eyes grow wide and I look at him to make sure I can touch him. 

He tangles his fingers into the hair on the back of my head, edging me closer to him until my hot breath is hitting his skin.

My tail wraps around Prager’s slim waist, pulling him further into me to encourage him to finally do something. He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Ja’s eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are slightly parted as he watches me and I take the hint. I open my mouth and stick out my saliva-covered tongue, licking around the base of his throbbing erection. His body shudders in excitement while he inhales sharply, tucking in his bottom lip between his teeth. 

I smile at him before moving my tongue further up his dick until I reached his tip. It’s where he’s the most sensitive. It’s also the area I will devote most of my attention to. 

Prager pulled his hips back a bit, his right hand tightly gripping my waist while his left lined up his pulsing cock with my hole. 

Slowly, he pushed his hips forward, watching with lust-darkened eyes how the head of his dick was being engulfed by me.

I close my eyes and moan while keeping my lips attached to Ja’s length. His breathing stuttered unevenly as he felt the vibrations soar through him and then he let his head fall back once my lips wrapped around his tip. 

I sucked on it, keeping my ears perked forward to catch every noise he made. He cursed while looking up at the sky, before watching me work my way down him.

I swirled my tongue around his tip and then pushed myself further down. He already hit the back of my mouth but I decided to not stop there because I only had half of him in my mouth. 

His fingers tightened in my hair but he didn’t push me down further. Ja let me go at my own pace, he just needed to grab onto something to keep him grounded. 

Prager had now pushed all the way in and it immediately felt good. I was finally full. My eyes fluttered closed as I spread my legs further apart for him, arching my back to see if he could go deeper. 

He was hypnotised by my inviting movements and realised how my desperate attempts for more made him even harder. 

Luckily, Prager didn’t keep me waiting and soon found a steady pace. 

I was being nudged forwards with each thrust of Prager’s hips and thereby moved my head up and down Ja’s dick. I inhaled deeply through my nose, closing my eyes to concentrate as I pushed my head down further down him. 

Ja’s eyes turned from watching me half-closed to being unable to look away. He was surprised by how much of him you were able to take and it made his dick twitch in your mouth. Fuck, how did he only realise now how perfect you were?

Prager’s hips snap forward more suddenly this time, rocking me further forward so that my nose hits Ja’s abdomen while his dick is down my throat. Ja’s mouth is hanging open and he moans once he bottoms out. 

“Holy shit-” he curses through clenched teeth as he fights his body and tries his absolute best not to spill just yet. “Didn’t know you could take it all.” he breathes out, trying to calm his panting. I hum in response, pulling back before pushing down all the way again. Ja’s muscles flex as his body floods with waves of pleasure. 

Prager is pulling my hips back against his now, every time he thrusts into me and with my further spread legs, he hits my sweet spot at a new angle, managing to plunge himself deeper into me. 

I moan around Ja, going weak in the arms for a second and he curses. 

“Shit. Whatever you’re doin’ Prager-” he groans, clenching his eyes closed. “Don’t stop.” 

Prager nods with a grin, relishing in the feeling of your warm walls tightly hugging him. He also takes note of the slick slowly running down your thighs. The sight turned him on so much he couldn’t wait to cum deep inside you. The way you started rocking into him indicated you were close so he was glad he wouldn’t have to restrain himself for too long.

Ja was so close to losing it, shivering and groaning every time your face pressed against his lower stomach. 

I decided to take it up a notch and hollowed my cheeks around him each time I pushed forward. This way I was creating a strong suction, not letting his dick escape my mouth when I pulled back. His tip always stayed in my mouth. 

Suddenly Ja whimpered, making my ears shoot forward.

He threw his head back moaning “Fuck, fuck fuck-” and couldn’t stop his hand from pushing your head down him as far as possible. His hips bucked forwards and he stilled while his entire body tensed and he released his load deep down your throat. 

The way you hollowed your cheeks made him cum instantly, loving the feeling of how you sucked him dry. 

Prager’s huffing turned into groans and growls as he dug his fingertips into my hips, rutting into me like there was no tomorrow. 

I swallow all of Ja’s cum and he releases my hair, sitting back on his knees and breathing heavily. I gently pull back from him, letting out a small cough before licking away any remaining cum on his dick. He watched me with soft eyes, almost falling in love at the sight. 

Prager moans, letting his head hang down for a second as he leans over my back and wraps both arms around my waist. His head is resting in the crook of my neck while his chest is pressed up against my back and his hips continue their brutal pace. Our skin slaps against each other and I know my ass is going to be red or at least a shade of purple by the time we are done.

I’m finally so close to my own high that I curl my fingers in the grass, pushing my ass further into the air so that he can access my cunt better. 

Prager doesn’t stop ploughing into me and continues the bruising pace while the sweat on our bodies mixes. 

“Prager-” I moan, closing my eyes. “I’m so- close.” 

His deep voice growls into my ear when he hears the words, making him speed up his thrusts even more. 

“Cum for us. C’mon.” he breathes, encouraging me as he feels his own high near him. 

I cry out and suddenly I’m pushed over the edge. My pussy clenches around Prager’s dick as he rides out my orgasm which leaves my arms and legs shaking. 

His hips stutter and once I’ve come down from my high, he bites down into my shoulder and buries himself as deep into me as possible. His cum shoots into me, filling me up while my now sensitive pussy throbs around him. 

His hot breath coming from his nose is fanning against my shoulder which he gently releases from his bite. Prager looks down at it, not quite sure why he felt the need to do that.

“You okay?” he whispers, nuzzling his face into my neck and awaiting a response. 

I nod, inhaling deeply. “Yeah. Much better.” 

Ja chuckles and Prager smiles before pushing himself off of me and gently pulling out. 

He leans back, examining how his semen is drizzling out of my cum stuffed cunt. 

“That’s stayin’ there.” He said, fingering it back in with his fingers. I gasp, biting down on my teeth. Ja rubs my attacked shoulder, wiping some blood away with his thumb in an attempt to soothe me a little while Prager puts my panties on, making sure most of his cum was still inside me. 

They dressed me first which I appreciated, helping me back into my pants before they clothed themselves. While they were getting dressed I just lay on the forest floor, going over what just happened. 

At least I was no longer burning up. I was sure it would come back but it was solved for now. 

They walk over to me, gently but effortlessly heaving me to my feet and both of them chuckle when my legs tremble. 

“Don’t worry, we got you.” Prager said, wrapping an arm around my waist and helping me walk again. 

When we returned to the others, the ground was a mess. The fire had been put out but a soldier which Z had probably hit was sitting on the ground with a cooling blue pack over their eye. Seems like Fike got the worst beating. 

They were all sitting on the ground and the Colonel was walking by them, making them fix all the equipment that had been broken. 

We were glad not to be a part of that and managed to rejoin them without raising suspicion. Everyone was distracted so they didn’t notice me struggling to stand and Ja and Prager refusing to leave my side. 

Tag List: @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @number1gal