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nilsavatar · 7 months

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DAY 31 - A/B/O

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!Avatar

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, ANGST, SMUT in the end, love bites, rubbing, sexual tension, olfactophilia (they both turn on by smelling arousal/pheromones), P in V, manhandling, oral (f receiving), face fucking, fingering, praising, cursing, pet name (ma’uniltı`ranyu - my dreamwalker), rough, knotting, dirty talk, overstimulation, edging, strangers to lovers, first time (first heat, loss of avatar body virginity), begging, difference in power (alpha-omega dynamics), soft-dom Neteyam (mention of marking, possessive behavior but he’s kind and caring), Jamie Flatters cameo. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Living in the body of an avatar is not as simple as one might think.

Little note: OMG! You have no idea how happy I am to have finally finished this fic. It has been on hiatus for so many months that I thought I would never publish it. The more time passed, the more the pressure to write something worth the long wait increased. I rewrote it so many times, but it never seemed good enough, and the editing was exhausting. I hope with all my heart not to disappoint your expectations. Please be forgiving: this is my first Omegaverse. Thank you🥰

If you would like to be tagged in future fics, please write it in the comments. I will be happy to add you all💕

Word Count: 7,6k

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Aubree’s knowledge as a xenobiologist fell short in front of the challenges of living as a dreamwalker among the Na’vi.

The presence of a secondary sex was fascinating, fictional in the eyes of a human being, accustomed to a binary system. But on Pandora, things were way different. The natives displayed their primary sex (male or female) from birth, and their roles in the clan were influenced by signs that emerged during puberty. Alphas, predominantly men, possessed a massive physiognomy. Tall, muscular, strong-willed, controlled in character, yet predisposed to irascibility. Betas were the largest group, with an equal proportion of females and males, and the most human-like. Omegas, mostly women, were known for their petite and delicate build, along with a calming demeanor.

When she arrived on Pandora, she had no particular expectations of what her avatar’s designation would be. Still, no one would ever have considered a potential alpha looking at her features. Aubree was a spitfire who was unlikely to be pushed around and knew her stuff in professional terms. Someone who won’t let you get away with nothing. However, her dainty physique and conflict-avoiding tendency were clear indications she would be an omega (or beta at best). The moment she connected with the hybrid, clarity rained down on her like a burst of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Her own body erupted in a chorus of sensations, each one clamoring for attention. It was as if every nerve ending had awoken from a deep sleep, demanding to be felt. The omega within seemed to mold itself to her presence, wrapping around her with the natural warmth of a long-lost sibling's affection. Its voice, like a lullaby, soothed tenderly in her ears, caressed her senses, evoking a bittersweet nostalgia. It had waited for her for a lifetime, patiently biding, though she felt as if it had always been there; their destinies entwined for eternity. The connection felt familiar as if it had always been an integral part of her existence, hidden deep within her soul, longing to be seen. A joyous reunion with her inner essence, theirs, rather than a discovery of something new about herself. As her eyes fluttered open, the blinding white light of the hospital room assaulted her vision, her first instinct was to cry. Overwhelmed by the pent-up emotions that had been building within her.

Yet another factor played a role — a negative note. The recognition wasn’t exclusive to her; everyone around her, from the very moment she had awoken as an avatar, had sensed, smelled what she was. And this made it obvious why omegas often experienced such a designation as a condemnation.

Alphas’ attentions may be... excessive.

From a human perspective, Na’vi were naturally intrusive. The concept of personal space between the two species was totally at odds; they were prone to be close, to touch each other, to smell each other. A fundamental part of their socialization techniques. Aubree could have learned to tolerate it as a cultural trait if her alpha-designated colleagues didn’t engage in the same behaviors. They couldn’t help themselves.

“It’s the pheromones,” said matter-of-fact Max, not having any other scientific explanation. Studies on the subject were stalled. Without a vomeronasal organ connected to the brain, or terrestrial examples to refer to, they couldn’t describe the phenomenon. The only thing palpable to both of them, equally inexplicable, was that her wake was inviting. Alphas were almost reduced to a primal state around her. “You should talk to the Tsahìk about this,” Aubree mentally berated herself for not thinking of it sooner. Who better than the Tsahìk, the spiritual leader of the clan and the highest authority among healers, to provide her with the answers she sought? And maybe even help in dealing with the symptoms.

The healers’ tent wasn’t large. Quite the opposite, it was indeed small. The room appeared even tinier with the disorganized heap of things stacked on top of each other in a jumbled mess, creating the feeling it could burst at any time. An imminent threat to be fair. However, under scrutiny, one could discern an order in the distribution of the items. To her right, tools of various types and sizes covered the entire wall. To the left, on shelves arranged by color, were terracotta jars filled with powders and ointments. Some were large, others tiny; some had regular shapes, others were bizarre, tongued, or angular. Engraved on the bottom of each were symbols. An early form of writing, considering the People were still oral.

A little further down, the counter ran around the entire interior of the room to the nearest post of mattresses where sicks could rest. Behind the cupboard was the massiest shelf of all. Ampoules, mirrors, rolls of cloth, baskets of bandages, needles, and flowers stuffed somehow. That place was a unique contradiction, ranging from manic order to disturbing chaos. Despite the dimness and the oppressive atmosphere, the tent also emitted a serene, welcoming feeling, akin to the mystical aura of a shaman’s lair.

But one not was out of place. Post-its here and there written in… English? What were post-its doing in the Tsahìk tent? They were so out of context.

“I see the human touch doesn’t go unnoticed.” Aubree gasped, more at the dull sound of something heavy being moved across the counter than the surprise itself. A woman emerged from the myriad of baskets scattered across the floor, placed one on the wooden shelf, and emptied its contents. Her hair, just above her chin, was straight but messy. The tswin, displayed in front of her chest, obscured the huge needle that hung from her slender neck. At every movement, the beads of the intricate shawl that covered her shoulders and breasts jingled, as lively as a child’s laughter. A streaked cerulean complexion set off lemon-yellow irises fixed upon her like those of a cat.

How old was she? Her face appeared youthful, almost adolescent, yet her eyes betrayed wisdom and worldliness far beyond her years.

“You must be Aubree. I was waiting for you to show up.” It seemed as if the healer’s pupils flickered at the sound of her name. The avatar stepped forward. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite, Tsahìk of the Omatikaya.” Acting on impulse, she extended her hand, but when the young woman didn’t shake it, she hastily corrected the gesture into the typical bow of greeting and reverence. She looked amused.

“No need for formality here. We are the same age and are both researchers. We have more in common than you might think.” A smirk curved her plump lips as she put her fists on her sides. “To what do I owe the glee of your visit? I suppose you need to ask me something.” Her sudden remark made her jolt. The Na’vi woman stopped arranging the shelves and turned to look at her with anticipation. “Well?” “I wouldn’t know where to even start. It’s something I don’t fully understand,” she confessed. “Is it related to your dreamwalker body?” She nodded. “But humans cannot help you.” It wasn’t a question, but the scientist nodded anyway. Kiri drew a smile and disappeared behind a curtain that separated the room from the next one — a laboratory. After several minutes, she reappeared with a small box full of tea filters. “Have one in the morning and another in the evening. It’s a suppressant; it will quell your pheromones.”

Aubree blushed furiously. How…?

“I might be just a beta, but your wake is so strong that it knocked me out for a sec. I dare not imagine the effect you have on alphas.” “Not pleasant.” “Much too pleasant, you mean,” she chuckled. “Be careful not to abuse the drug. You wouldn’t want to find out about the side effects. And remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during estrus.”

Estrus.

The idea hadn’t crossed her mind at all when she accepted her Ph.D. and joined the AVTR Program. She was so thrilled to pursue her dream she would have accepted any job proposal. And who was she to deny she had always felt a fascination about natives? Na’vi estrus cycle was highly articulated and varied by secondary sex designation. Beta females, like humans, had a menstrual cycle and were potentially always fertile, exhibiting no visual, behavioral, or olfactory signals announcing impending ovulation.

Quite a different story for omegas and alphas.

The former went into heat three times a year, about four months between cycles, and could last up to seven agonizing days in the absence of a partner to care for them. This was their peak fertility period. The latter rutted once a year, and the length of the inter-anestrus was unpredictable. In mated pairs wasn’t uncommon for one’s heat to trigger the other’s.

“What should I do when it happens?” “Well, the most natural advice would be to spend it with a playmate, preferably an alpha, as theirs are the only pheromones that have a calming effect on omegas. There is no risk of conception for those who are not mated, so as long as your kuru’s are not entwined, let go.” “Mm, alternatives?” “Lock yourself in a shelter until it ends, away from everyone. But that is the least desirable option. It’s terribly painful to face heat alone.” “I could stay disconnected as long as my avatar is in this state.” “Risking dying of dehydration and starvation in the meantime? Or worse, that some alpha will have fun at your expense?” Kiri hastened to say, noticing the scientist’s horrified expression. “Yes, it has happened, and I assure you that the physical memory of the trauma remains, even if consciousness was not present.” “But I’ll still have to log out myself. My human body needs care, too.” “All the more reason you should find someone to look after you, and quickly. Your first heat is approaching.”

As if that were a small thing.

“My intuition tells me you’ll be fine. Now go. And drink your infusion.” She was about to leave the tent when one last question left Aubree’s lips: “How will I know I’m in heat?” “Oh, trust me, you’ll know.”

She was so absorbed in Kiri’s words that she didn’t even notice the hungry glances she was catalyzing. Especially that of a distinguished man wearing a feathered cloak. The young Olo’eyktan followed her figure as she made her way back to the human outpost until she was swallowed up by the thick undergrowth.

“She doesn’t have a mate if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice to his left exclaimed. As he turned, he came face to face with the Tsahìk, whose penetrating stare revealed a cunning expression that hinted at a deeper understanding. “I don’t see why this indiscretion of yours should interest me.” “Mm, I don’t know. Seems like she caught your interest.” “Hard to ignore with the trail she carries.” A corner of Kiri’s mouth twitched: Neteyam had just been trapped in the net. “She’s not the first omega with such a scent passing under your nose, but you’ve barely noticed the others.” The young man’s back straightened. “What's your point?” “I’m just surprised. That’s all.”

Neteyam’s gaze was again lost in scanning the spot where the avatar had vanished, lost in a thousand thoughts. Unaware of the bright, wide smile that now graced his sister’s beautiful face. The satisfied smirk of one who sees three moves ahead.

Upon entering the research division’s canteen, some may have felt as if they stepped into Goldilocks’ fairy tale. Everything in there was big, big or small, small, except for the stove and tables, which were set at an intermediate height so that both avatars and pilots could use them.

Aubree stared at the teapot brewing the concoction Kiri had given her; her nose stung by the pungent yet fresh smell of nettle wafting from the spout. Carefully, she poured the liquid into a cup without straining — Ingest the leaves — and drank it. Immediately, her throat burned and a tremendous itch seemed to want to tear it open.

Shit, even worse than anticipated.

She took a seat on the plush sofa, its velvety fabric enveloping her frame. As she pressed play on the remote, the screen flickered to life, casting a soft glow on the dimply lit room. Her eyes followed the vivid images of a movie for distraction, but her mind was eaten up by the searing prickle that intensified with each passing moment. The discomfort became all-consuming, shielding her from the outside world, as if the itchy sensations had woven a barrier around her, isolating the woman in her own thoughts. She was oblivious to her colleague’s presence until he sank into the cushions beside her. His arm hung weakly on the backrest, almost brushing against her shoulder. But it was his sudden loud snort that jolted her back to reality. Aubree jumped as she turned to her right and found Jamie. His left knee wedged into his opposite ankle, his foot dangling in her direction. His head rested an inch from the wall, eyes half-closed in a drowsy state.

“You look tired.”

The guy let out a low, rumbling laugh in his typical mumble before replying that he felt like a bulldozer had run over him. Fatigue weighed heavily on him, evident in the strain it put on his distinct British accent. She surreptitiously watched him, taking in the details of his avatar that closely resembled the human it was created from. His gaze remained the same, although his blue irises had now turned a striking shade of yellow. His lips and teeth mirrored the original, except for the canines. When he smiled full-mouthed, two dimples appeared on his cheeks, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners, as if they were smiling, too. His slightly protruding incisors gave his face a boyish charm, contrasting with his strong, masculine features. He radiated a sense of gentleness.

That last remark had the same effect as lightning illuminating the night. They were conversing freely, as they would have if they were humans.

An alpha and an omega.

Aubree had gotten into the habit of avoiding alphas as much as possible when she was in this body; head down, shy look, walk fast. Never within nose reach. But Jamie did not lose his cool in her presence. He didn’t sniff the air greedily. His gaze didn’t become insistent as it passed over her face. He didn’t moisten his lips endlessly or clench his jaw and fists as if to keep himself from jumping on her. Nor did hold his breath and make excuses, running for his life as he was wont to do.

The suppressor was working!

The success of the next days was enough for the unknown estrus to recede into the background, in the darkest and most hidden place in her head. Who could blame her? Her life was finally back to normal. After all, her avatar's first heat couldn't have been so terrible, could it? Just stick to this simple recipe and everything will be fine, repeated as a mantra.

Remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during the heat.

Time passed, and days turned into weeks. The taste of the medicine became more tolerable as her throat grew accustomed to its piquant flavor. Even if it wasn’t, the end justified the means. Aubree took the doses with obsessive precision, but after a few months, she noticed the effects wearing off, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began. The first warning came in the form of mild dizziness when she logged in, accompanied by a lingering feeling of fever. Then, her appetite waned, alternating with sudden bouts of hunger. Finally, twinges settled in her iliac fossae. She chalked it as harmless PMS, nothing she hadn’t already experienced. Most importantly, not a cause for alarm regarding her host’s performance or health; the hybrid was fully functional.

Wait a minute. Premenstrual syndrome?

As she walked down the hallway leading to the medical area, her mind wandered back to her last period. Her forefinger swiftly navigated the tablet, selecting the calendar app she used to track her menstrual cycle. She was still a long way from the start of the next one, a full two weeks, right in the middle of her fertility window. Maybe I’m ovulating. The symptoms she had been going through lately aligned with that assumption. Breast sensitivity, a slight increase in discharge, heightened lubrication, and libido.

This would have been enough to reassure her, if not for the steady, soft beeping coming from the hospital room, serving as a haunting reminder. Her stare roamed beyond the glass, taking in the circle of Link Units surrounding a pair of desks in the center, a total of eight. It settled on the last station on the far left. Number 3. Her lucky number. Well, not so lucky, given how things were going. The monitor next to it showed the status of the machine, the vitals of the subject inside, the neural activity of the two interconnected brains. The real-time image of the pilot's unconscious face.

Aubree’s face.

And so she realized the symptoms were none other than the avatar's. Ovulation, PMS, cravings were all alarm bells that the heat was near. But who gave her the coup de grâce was Jamie himself.

The guy was running towards her, calling out and weaving, eager for something he was about to share if he didn’t put the brakes on his run. With his palm up to cover his mouth and nose, he said, “Woah Bree... You stink.” His pupils showed a hint of dilation. “It’s time, isn’t it? The suppressant isn’t working anymore.” “Guess so.” “Um, I don’t wanna freak you out or anything, but...” He scratched nervously at the back of his head, no longer holding her gaze. “... if you ever need help dealing with… that. I mean, if I were in your shoes, I’d prefer a friend taking care of me over some random dude. So...” “Thanks, Jamie, for the offer. I know it’s from a genuine interest, and that you’re not trying to take advantage of the situation. I appreciate it, but maybe the Tsahìk can help me out while I’m in the shelter.” “It could last for days.” “I still haven’t come to terms that intercourses are the only way. She's possibly making it sound worse than it actually is.” “Possibly not. Thinking you’ll be locked up somewhere suffering...” "I'll log out for the night," Aubree giggled. “Besides, it would be kinda weird, don’t you think? We work together.” Now he couldn’t help but laugh. “I do science. Stuff like that won't faze me. You better hurry, based on the scent you're giving off, you could be in heat any minute. If you change your mind...” With a last playful wink, Jamie left.

Free to return to her concerns, Aubree’s smile turned into a taut line. She had to find Kiri. Quickly.

As she battled the relentless fever, the seemingly endless and overwhelming path to Hometree stretched out before her. Every step was a struggle, her trembling hands clutching onto the rough tree trunks for support. Fatigue weighed heavily upon her, her eyes squinting against the blinding rays of the sun as it dipped below the horizon. The intense heat made her perspire profusely, the dampness seeping through her clothes, clinging to her body like a second skin. She wished she could strip off her garments; the discomfort unbearable. The thought of dying of shame seemed trivial compared to the fire that consumed her from within, leaving her skin burning and blistering.

Sounds of prolemuris filled the air, their calls echoing through the dense canopy. The heavy, rich, damp bouquet of lush vegetation mingled with the freshness of rain and whiffs of her scent, alerting a hunter nearby to her presence. His senses heightened. With narrowed eyes, he tasted the air, as if savoring a fine wine. The particles rose into his nostrils, painting a vivid image of Aubree in his mind. Her sweet face, adorned with sparkling eyes, and sinuous curves stood out against the dry features of the People.

As he continued to track her trail, his pupils dilated, his senses enticed by the lingering aroma. Every step he took, he could feel the dampness of the forest floor beneath his feet, the rough texture of the leaves brushing against his fingertips. The air was alive with anticipation, as if holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable. But as quickly as the scent had captivated him, the hunter’s instincts kicked in. He realized that if he could smell her, others could too. The realization sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of the dangers that lurked in the rainforest. With a determined resolve, he pressed on, his senses alert, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

He left his prey to almost run the distance that separated him from the woman. His omega. The moments it took him to reach her seemed like hours when they were a handful of minutes at most. He found her at the foot of a plant, curled up in a ball, her cheeks stained with tears as she whispered incomprehensible words under her breath. The man staggered, his senses assaulted by the unmistakable pungent smell of her heat stench. A wake so overpowering that left him breathless and struck, unlike anything he had ever smelled before. Teeth gritted and jaw clenched to the breaking point, he bravely advanced towards her, finally falling to his knees. If only he had resisted his natural urges. He could not allow himself to give in. Not him.

With a gentle touch, he cradled her jaw in his palm and soothed her with slow, reassuring strokes along her side, repeating, “It’s alright, it’s alright. You’re safe now. You're not alone; I'm here for you. You’re going to be okay.” Her cry-streaked face trembled as she whispered, “Please... I can’t take it any longer,” cheeks dampened by an endless stream of tears. “Just take care of it.” He cursed in frustration, powerless that he couldn’t even bring her to his sister. Kiri was assisting a primipara in childbirth. “Please!” Before taking her in his arms and laying her gently against his chest, the Na’vi sighed, his voice filled with resignation, “Yes, whatever you need.”

Walking backward towards the nearest shelter, he kept his gaze fixed on the path, his piercing eyes fully focused on his surroundings, scanning for any signs of danger. The very direction he had originally come from. Not that anyone could have stood up to him under those circumstances. Regardless of whether he had reached the woman first, no one would have been foolish enough to challenge the clan’s top warrior.

Groaning, Aubree nuzzled against him, finding solace in the familiar and calming scent that emanated from his skin. Like lowered into a light, peaceful bubble, his soothing alpha pheromones everywhere. An alpha she couldn’t recognize, her vision too blurry, but to whom the omega inside her was singing a serenade. In this foggy confusion, she could only hear the beating of his heart against her ear and the oh-so-big, firm hands holding her up. And though she could not see him, starry eyes appeared in her mind’s eye, looking tenderly at her.

Her fantasy drifted away, picturing him holding her close, his lips exploring every inch of her body, and their lovemaking leaving her in a state of euphoric surrender. A shiver ran down her spine and made her throbbing quicken at the mere thought of being touched where the tremendous burn concentrated the most. The brush of his lips on her forehead and the tip of her nose made her believe, if only for an instant, that reality had merged with her imagination. His voice lingered in the air, like a gentle gust against her mouth, hinting that they were just moments away from their destination.

Where, she would have inquired, but there wasn’t much room for consistency in her head right now, her perceptions too chaotic to form a coherent question. She would have gone to the ends of the Universe, as long as it meant she could be near him.

Next to her, on her, inside her. Her heart raced with anticipation.

As the hunter laid her down on the mattress and went to fetch water, it was no surprise that her expression crinkled, her eyelids opened slightly, and a low moan eluded her parched lips.

“You need to drink,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern, as he offered out a small bowl. The liquid inside shimmered, reflecting the soft glow of the room. However, she shook her head, causing the contents to spill onto the floor, the sound of the liquid splashing echoing through the silence. A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but it quickly melted away, replaced by a deep-seated worry as he watched her. Her arms opened towards him, inviting him into her embrace. He had never encountered such desperation and helplessness in an omega before.

Calmly, he laid down beside her, pulling her gently towards him. As he hugged her, she could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. But it wasn’t enough. Aubree craved more, she needed more. And so he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft and tender, like a delicate caress. When she bit into them, the taste exploded on her tongue, a blend of sweet honey and warm sunshine. The flavors danced and mingled, delighting her senses. Closing her eyes, she felt a rush of sparks and stars illuminating her mind. His tongue explored her mouth with a gentle touch, mirroring the soothing sensation of his hands as they massaged her tense shoulders.

She felt perfect, cocooned in the strength of his embrace. The soft glow of candlelight danced across their entwined bodies, casting a warm, intimate atmosphere. The warmth of his arms, his faint scent mingled with her own, enveloped her, creating a sweet, comforting haven from the outside world. Yet, an intoxicating sensation filled the air as she nestled against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. A soothing melody that resonated deep within her. Every touch, every caress, sent waves of bliss coursing through her body. In this moment, she found solace and contentment, knowing that she had found her rightful place - in his loving arms.

She was exactly where she belonged, complete and fulfilled.

When he let go, she was panting, her lungs desperate for oxygen, her heart pounding in her chest. All she could see were his eyes, lost in darkness. Delighting in her exquisite taste, surpassing his wildest dreams, he pressed his lips against her face and kissed her deeply. The overwhelming passion seemed to consume her, suffocating her with its intensity. He gently moved away, giving her a chance to catch her breath, and as he did, he positioned himself on top of her, taking off the thin t-shirt she had on.

As much as he longed to press his skin against the avatar's, the Na’vi couldn’t help but be drawn to her curvaceous physique, a stark contrast to the ruggedness of his own kind. He took his sweet time to admire her; the naked breasts, the rounder hips, he could not resist stroking them with his fingertips. Aubree’s scent brainwashed him, a slave to the instinct to take her where she was, but in the back of his mind, there was still enough clarity to realize that he was truly amazed by the wonder of the woman before him. He liked her. He really liked her. He had liked her from the first moment he had noticed her, her trail so enchanting that it could not be ignored.

Once again, he yearned to taste her, to hold her. He placed his lips upon every reachable inch, leaving his mark with his intoxicating scent. He lavished attention on her face, caressed her eyes, nibbled on her ears, traced her collarbones, and claimed her neck, burying his nose in her skin, his tongue tenderly exploring the hidden depths behind her shoulder. It was a remarkably sensitive spot, causing her to surrender to pleasure, her corneas tilting backward in ecstasy. The surge of pheromones transformed into a primal growl, resonating deep within her core; uncontrollable shivers coursed through her body. He pressed harder against her hips, releasing a second wave that intensified their connection.

Aubree wrapped her limbs around him, squeezing him in a fervent embrace. The sound of their mingling breaths filled the air as their lips met once more, a symphony of desire. Overwhelmed by the sensation of his body against hers, she reveled in the way he effortlessly fit into the curves of her form. Each kiss and caress he bestowed upon her skin brought a cascade of relief that engulfed her senses.

Through the graceful dance of their bodies, she felt the weight of his longing against her. Every movement spoke volumes of his desire to please her, to alleviate her anguish. As his lips explored her skin, a low, guttural moan escaped her throat, resonating with a mixture of gratification and pain. In the air, a spice of raw passion intertwined with a hint of vulnerability. In his touch, she could sense the depth of his caring, his soulful dominance.

She realized how similar they were: two people subjected to their nature.

Equally desperate, her lungs aching, she reached a trembling hand towards his tail, fingers brushing against the coarse texture of the loincloth. The tightly cinched knot resisted her efforts, causing each tug to reverberate with a faint sound of strained fabric. The hunter, his muscles trembling with anticipation, propped himself up slightly, his breaths mingling with hers in the dimly lit room.

Time slowed to a torturous crawl as he painstakingly unraveled the knot, his fingers working with meticulous precision. The sensation of the fiber slipping through his grasp sent shivers down his spine, a mix of alleviation and frustration intertwining in his chest. The weight of the tewng around his ankles became a physical reminder of the barriers they both longed to shed. Almost on the verge of tears, he yearned for liberation from this confining cloth, craving the proximity and warmth they shared. With a swift motion, he freed himself from the bindings, the garment rustling quietly as it fell to the ground. In an instant, he pulled her back into his embrace, his arms blanketing her with a renewed fervor.

As their bodies tangled, a rush of emotions flooded their senses — the scent of their shared desire hung heavy in the air, mingling with the musky aroma of sweat. The touch of their skin, now unencumbered, ignited a fire that burned with an intensity they could no longer deny.

The scientist loved every moment; his piercing, smoldering gaze fixated on her, lolling in every tender touch, every flattering word, but she reached her limit, and he could sense it. Suddenly, the biting cold dusk shrouded her exposed form. Her garments were violently ripped away, leaving her vulnerable. The icy sensation lasted only a fraction of a second, though, for that was all the time it took for the stranger to plunge into her doused core. His intricate braids tickled against the satin-like skin of her inner thigh. The balmy breeze of his breath danced upon her as she rolled up her sticky legs around his head. “No need for that,” she giggled, her voice trembling. The sharp edges of his canines teased her, causing a playful tingle to spread across her lips. His smile showing both desire and mischief.

With exasperating slowness, he inhaled in a long sniff, his expounded pupils pulsating as they reopened. He dove in to guzzle the juicy nectar at its source, emitting a hoarse moan with the initial sip. She gasped, feeling the vibration against her quivering lips, as a blissful wave rippled through her soul, intensifying her arousal. Gripping her silky hair, he nestled his face, exploring every crevice, nuzzling her thoroughly. His insatiable tongue and eager lips caressed the velvety walls of her intimate entrance, skillfully teasing the supple skin and delicate clitoris. His left hand, loving and firm, cupped her slender ankle, his touch sending shivers up her bone. Slowly, he trailed his hand up her smooth thigh, his fingertips tracing every contour, igniting a fiery anticipation within her. With a whispered whoop, he sank his index into her swollen, drenched core, the wetness coating his digit. There was no resistance, only an overwhelming urge for more. In sync with her ragged sighs, he added a second finger. The sound of their combined panting saturated the air as her grip tightened around his relentless, plunging fingers.

At this point, Aubree was trembling with need as every fiber within her begged to be fucked. The alpha’s dominant pheromones beguiled her, while his languid, deliberate movements captivated her gaze. His hungry eyes, dark and all-consuming held her spellbound by the way he devoured her. The crushed combination of his present and skill left her subdued, infatuated even. As her back arched in pleasure, a primordial scream tore through her open windpipe. Excitement was so intense, a fiery mixture of ecstasy and release so gratifying and flawless, that her omega felt a devastating love than just heat. In that instant, he hit her G-spot with caustic precision one final time, causing her to pour forth in a torrential climax. A violent, passionate eruption met by the man’s eager mouth, which drank her essence like a thirsty beast.

However, something unexpected happened as the orgasm subsided. Aubree burst into tears.

Copious tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks; wet, hot streaks that burned almost as scorching as the new, unbearable fire festering in her belly. Sobs rang through the shelter as he called her back, holding her tightly in his protective embrace, now curled against his chest seeking consolation. “Shushu... ‘Upe kemwiä? (What is it?).” He murmured, his lips resting on her temples as he futilely wiped away her tear-strained cheekbones. “It doesn’t go away, it doesn’t go away.” She cried, her nails scratching his chest, desperately trying to hold on to something. Her nose rubbed against his rib cage, then his jaw to impregnate him with her perfume, his heart pounding wildly.

In a frenzy of kisses and bites and touches, he let her vent, his digits grazing along her spine, confused by the speed with which the urge had reassembled in her. The Na’vi was confused by the speed with which the itch had reassembled within her. Normally it would take a few hours after such a powerful first orgasm. Time to rest, eat, drink. Aubree badly needed hydration to combat the incessant fever that plagued her and the fluids she was losing.

“Take a moment to rest. You need to drink.” “Screw the water, I want you,” she confessed, her misty eyes fixated on him. They shimmered with unstoppable tears and thirst. Her face flushed with a violent purple. It was the most powerful heat the man had ever witnessed, and he wondered what had triggered it. That it was her first heat? Had the suppressors made her high? It was because of him? The alpha in him reprimanded him with the natural mildness of primal appetites. Just take her, she’s pleading for it. But he shook his head. It wasn’t him. He was better than that. He had been raised to care for others, not to use them. Alphas protect, that was what gave them purpose; he would do anything to protect his mate, even from herself.

Even though she wasn’t technically his mate.

Despite not being bonded in the traditional sense, their connection was undeniable. Aubree, unbeknownst to her, held a special place in his heart from the very moment they met. It was clear from the start that this outcome was unavoidable. Calling upon anything that could keep him sane, he held some sort of energy drink under her nose. “Näk (drink).” The omega sounded at this command. It was as if by speaking in his native language, he was able to assert himself a thousand times more forcefully, even if she didn't get his words. The omega knew for both of them. “Can you do this for me? Drink this and I'll give you everything you want.” She had never heard anything more beautiful. She swelled the entire contents in one gulp, her head dizzy from the sudden amount of sugar. She fell back between the pillows with a quickening pulse, even if he was stroking her hair comfortably. The fall brought a fresh whiff of her needy wake, filling the entire hut as well as his nostrils. Instinctively, the hunter took a deep breath. A breath, that stopped halfway as his brain registered the source of the trail between the woman’s legs. A shimmering fountain that caused him to let out a guttural roar of defeat. He was so weak to her.

As he settled between her groin, the tip of his erection brushed against the warrior’s waistband, still clinging to his torso. The only garment Aubree had allowed him to keep. The sight of him, breathtakingly elegant and athletic, thanks to Eywa’s mercy, overshadowed the idea of how many other omegas had the privilege of having him inside them before her. But now he was all hers. That thought alone ignited a fresh wave of excitement to blossom. He pressed his full weight onto her, and she wasted no time running her hands over his taut, strong, muscular back. Every contour, every sinew, was exquisitely formed and enticing under her touch. The closeness they shared, their bodies pressed against each other, sent a thrill through her. He smelled so damn good, hard and bothered for her. The way he responded to her advances only heightened her desire, flaring up a foreign heat in her veins, surpassing even her own natural instincts.

His shaft, long and thick, glided inside her, stealing her a gasp as he filled her in one fluid motion. Pleasure trembled through her, evident in her labored breathing and tightened walls. The barriers of her depths easily acclimated to his divine cock, satisfying even her smallest wishes. It was almost embarrassing to realize how every aspect of him was designed to please her — the texture of his body, the touch of his skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of his voice, his tantalizing scent.

She couldn’t help it and was somehow ashamed of her weakness. Her intimacy clenched at some point, in response to the blows he gave her, the few but deep sounds he made. So securely he gasped at the faint pain before rushing to her mouth in a ferocious kiss. Demanding, needy. He bit and pulled at her lip, pushing his tongue to lick the arch of hers, to suck her teeth, making her vibrate around him. Had she mentioned that his lips were amazing? Yes, she had, but who cared? She would have repeated over and over again how unworldly they melded with hers in such a sublime way that they would have stunned her if she weren’t for the crazy pheromones already. Aubree didn’t even know who this man was. Her senses tangled, preventing her from recognizing his face or voice, despite a nagging suspicion of familiarity. Her mind sporadically focused before touch or smell overpowered it. Now taste. His lips felt like fresh fruit, sweet and full-bodied. She would have spent hours luxuriating in them, but the impression she was about to burst grew and grew, driving and unbearable.

She moaned uncontrollably as the Na’vi drew back his hips until only the tip rested against her core to thrust again before effortlessly thrusting again. Each new point of contact stung inside her. The avatar felt an insatiable desire to take all of him, to never let go. Her heart filled with euphoria — little bites, caresses, kisses ran through her body, which now smelled like his. She tugged at his hair as he made his way back to her mouth, her wet thighs encircling his waist, her heels nestled in the dimples of Venus. Clinging to him as if the contact of his epidermis, his chest, his arms weren’t enough. She craved more. Their hearts pounded in unison, like furious galloping horses, their passion untamed. “Tsahey, sı`ltsan’efu (oh hell, feels good),” he grunted, his timbre low and gravelly. Kind of a dirty move whispering praise in Na’vi into her ear. His words danced to the tips of her toes from the dull joy it gave her to feel appreciated, as the sound of their frames colliding echoed in the hut, a symphony of lust and devotion. Her cries grew shrill, a melodic chorus that fueled his every thrust. He was so hot, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, as he moved faster, the friction intensified, sending sparks shooting through all of her body. Aubree clasped her legs around his waist, hankering for everything he offered. His grip on her shoulders steadied, his fingers digging into her skin. The force of his thrusts increased, each one hitting her with a mix of pleasure and pain. Her nails dragged along his back, leaving red trails in their wake.

The man rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingled; his lukewarm exhales covering her face and his ears full with her gasps. The smell of their passion hung heavy in the small space, a heady mixture of steam and need. He watched her in both ecstasy and disbelief. The sight of such intensity in his gaze overpowered her, but she clung to it, relishing every moment when his dick struck a sensitive bundle of nerves.

As she felt his knot dwell, alpha pheromones crept into her subconscious, drowning her omega in the musky aroma of dominance and submission, an exhilarating fog that pushed her further into surrender. The place seemed to darken as her soul naturally responded to him; her pulse hastening with trepidation. Each frantic gasps for oxygen a struggle against the sweeping emotions. She had no choice but to capitulate, to cry out for him. It felt as if her very DNA had been written to covet him, to lock him inside, but the native held her back, prolonging the exquisite torture.

“That’s not a good idea. It’s your first time.”

A new growl escaped her windpipe, vibrating hungry rage. A rumble that allowed no response, a warning that made him bend his ears back and sink to the point of no return. His stare fixed on her with a longing that knew no bounds. Now only orgasm could free him from her clutches. His expression seemed pained, a flicker of hesitation, but it lasted only a second before the most animalistic and savage sounds she had ever heard rose from the back of his throat. The researcher bit his neck to stifle a moan louder than the others, desperate to repress the burden that threatened to consume him. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop for concern of hurting her. He gasped, his grip on her hips toughening as he plunged more fervently, the rhythmic slapping of their bodies reverberating through the room.

“Don’t ever come out. Stay in forever,” she stammered in confused, fading whimpers. His reaction was harsh, his hips digging with such force that the knot scraped hard against her walls, inducing her to writhe in ecstasy. “Nga tsun ke pawm fula tsonta oe… Nga zir fìtxan tsìltsan (You can’t just ask me that… You feel so amazing).” His voice strained with lust. In response, the woman gyrated her hips even deeper against him, moaning with abandon until he filled her completely. His burning seed spread inside her, as he released a final wave of pheromones that triggered an orgasm so powerful it knocked her unconscious — her frame succumbing to the overwhelming fulfillment that exhausted her. “Are you okay?” He kissed her temple, but she could barely nod, still breathless. “Good.”

Amid that swirling sea of dizzying, carnal lechery, the Na’vi caught a whiff of her enticing trail, drawing him in like a magnetic force. He twisted her neck gently, planting kisses and licks behind her ear, where it released all sorts of fragrances that blended with the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Aubree shivered, her skin tingling as he grazed his teeth over her sensitive flesh. The aroma of her essence intensified here, so potent it could dance on his tongue, so tantalizing to explore further.

As he indulged in a small taste, her partner’s presence surged within her; his dick twitched, and automatically her inner walls throb around him. Just as her apprehension grew, fearing his bite, his lips found her ear where he murmured: “Don’t be afraid. I won’t mark you until you ask me to.”

Suddenly, a clarity washed over her, as if the dense intoxication of hormones had dissolved, leaving her lucid in its wake. The researcher pushed her lover away, panic coursing. Her narrowed eyes hinted at a revelation, now that she could finally name the alpha who had guided her in her very first heat, still mating with her with a satisfied and dangerous grin.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.

Her eyelids suddenly grew heavy. Aubree fought not to close them, but with each blink it became harder and harder to keep them open. She felt his fingertips brush the hair from her face, then caress one cheek as he lowered himself to place a light kiss on her forehead.“Hahaw, ma’uniltı`ranyu. Nga kin ne tsurokx. Tätxaw ngeyä tawtutetokx. Oe veaywng nga kay sìn. (Sleep, my dreamwalker. You need to rest. Return to your human body. I’ll take care of you from now on).”

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

@neteyamssyulang @layla2-49

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romanoffsbish · 11 months

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The Tournament

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha was never one to shy away from a challenge, and your body paid the ultimate price. | WC: 1,254

Natasha was exhausted.

It had been ten hours of this. On and off

Mostly on, and you, well you were not cognizant.

——

The redhead had mistakenly read one of Tony's world record books, it was a gag that he childishly bought. In the section dedicated to fornication she had read that the longest "episode of sex" to have been recorded, with no change in intimacy partners, was five hours long. So of course, Natasha Romanoff, the competitive devil, took the challenge on to double it, ensuring that no one (human-wise) ever beat her record.

You knew when you met her on the battlefield that she was an overachiever. It was the way that she had been graceful the entire time she choked the enemy with her beefy, as well as soft, thighs. To the now, where she fell beside you with an arm that held no functionality. All of the adrenaline faded and she huffed a tired chuckle.

What a night it had been she mused within the hollow confines of her dimming mind. Though sore she was able to get out of bed and work to clean you up. The moment you two had hit hour eight you were snoring. Natasha admired the way your body convulsed with every sleep time orgasm, even if you couldn't feel it, you were having the time of your unconscious life.

The you of the morning will be gobsmacked and in some way turned on. Your vagina that should be in ruins would likely pulse with a sharp, painful need. For now though she settled your core beneath a pair of fresh panties and slipped you up the bed and onto the pillows that were designed for you. Then she cleaned up the room of any evidence. She took the toys down to the small, second kitchen you had and tossed them into the designated dishwasher. Then she finished off the tray of peanut butter sandwiches she'd made for the nights necessary fuel station. She also had vodka, and an assortment of chocolate and fruit to munch on.

The rules of the book stated that breaks that lasted less than three minutes were ebbed into the flow of things.

Natasha was terrified to let you down, and by you she meant her very annoying sense of pride. Which is why the night started off with you in the captains position. Your soft lips painted her skin a lovely blend of maroon and lilac, the blue to forge a galaxy would come later.

The way she mewled for you felt pornographic, and then you remembered she had planned to record this for proof. You shakily agreed so she set up five cameras around the room. At each two hour mark when she stopped to drink some water or bite into a peanut butter sandwich she'd stop the one and start the other when she was back. Each clip got a different angle, each with their own feature and timestamped to the second to further prove the breaks weren't prolonged.

Natasha nearly killed you when her knees locked behind your head; but you didn't mind. You whispered a prayer against her pussy that she'd hopefully find you in paradise one day, then she came with a miracle on the dancing tastebuds of your tongue. Oxygen filled your lungs just as it excavated hers, the both of you spluttered as you choked on her slick, and she forgot how to breathe in place of the dizzying pleasure.

Thirty minutes down, but you were far from tired. It showed in the wild irises Natasha's soft emeralds met. Whenever you looked at her like that she lost all of her sense of authority. You'd flipped her over and fingered her while backhanding and palming at her smooth ass. Natasha grunted at each slap then moaned at the thrusts, it was husky and made your body tremble.

Natasha chased every single high you offered her, and she was near to losing count when you slowed down. You'd made it to hour three, and that's when the need to rest began to set in. Natasha saw it, and flipped you over so she could take over. You'd lasted longer than anytime before in one straight session and she was so incredibly proud, but more importantly turned on.

"Fuck Y/N," she panted against your cheek as her fingers slid through your slick folds. "You made me cum eight times and my pussy is still throbbing as you moan in my ear." Her lips lowered further, hot breath tickled your ear and you giggled breathily. "Keep going my sweet girl, you're in for a long night so keep it up."

You did your best too, entertaining her with answers to her filthy questions, moaning and thrashing as she found a new way to get you to your new best orgasm, but then your lethargy began to set in once again.

At hour six Natasha had sat your limp form up and nourished you back to life within the time constraint. Offering you a bit more enjoyment before the eventual KO took place. Your cries turned into whimpers, then choked moans until the sound of skin slapping and slick sliding was all she could focus on as she thrusted.

There was no time to feel any aches when focusing on keeping your body mindlessly jolting so Natasha built up her mental walls and in the long run gave herself carpal tunnel. In the end she felt it was worth it, as she won the fictitious title of "longest sex (love making) session ever recorded," and then she found you three days later after coming home early (at midnight as opposed to 7am) with your fingers inside you as your eyes were transfixed on her head between your legs.

"Wanna make a new record?" You jumped up and held your slick hand out in front of you to stall her request from happening, but all the redhead did was lunge and take your fingers into her greedy mouth. She moaned at the uniquely tangy taste, but her eyes creased in contradiction as your slivered nail scraped her palate.

"I need to taste you," she grunted and you gasped, "Natasha baby please." She shushed you with a bruising kiss and rubbed your cunt against her latex suit. You choked on her tongue and she chuckled, "It's okay detka, you can admit that you need me, I'm here."

"I'm sensitive," you whimpered and she kissed the bridge of your nose in comfort. "I'll be gentle detka, I just want to spend four hours talking to your pussy. Gonna tell you all the reasons why I love you while your moans convey the same message back to me."

"Please," you were breathless now and this time you were beckoning her closer instead of away. She pecked your lips then pulled away abruptly to keep her focus on a shower, while also making you stumble. "Get on the bed with nothing on detka, keep your hands to yourself and sit pretty while I take my quick shower."

"Be fast mommy," you cried and she cackled as the door shut, showing you her intentions to edge you.

You smirked, excited that your plan had worked, much unlike your legs would come morning; Natasha would now likely spend the entire week at your beck and call.

In the end, everyone wins.

Well, except for Tony, who had to fork out the cash for sound proofing the walls and sending Steve to therapy.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader

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ganondoodle · 1 year

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rough beast ganondorf design + sketches + notes design combines the typical boar form (dark beast + cloud form from botw), the oni one (demon king gan) hint at the draconic one to come but keep part of his humanity with his clothing being mostly intact

as the battle with Demon King Ganondorf comes to an end, the sages previously knocked out start to wake up again, he is cornered and hurt and as fear of being imprisoned, tortured and exploited overwhelms him he transforms into the Beast form, breaking the arena you were fighting him in and him going for Zelda as she is the biggest threat (he remembers her destroying dark beast gan and she reminds him of sonia, who is the one you sealed his human body back in the day)

you and zelda flee through the cracks of the earth as more earthquakes happen with a beast at your heels thats now truly only out to kill as fast as possible as he burrows after you (first sketch)

the path takes you both just below the surface and as you are trapped in a dead end zelda shields herself and link with her light shield ability, which protects you both from immediate damage but cant soften the impact from gan charging at you, the impact of which breaks you all three to the surface and the battle takes place in the same spot as botws dark beast fight-

fight is very challenging as gan is smaller than the dark best version, jumping and charging at you while still able to cast spells, now truly throwing everything he can at you in the hopes of ending you both

fight ends with you shooting an arrow at zelda, her deflecting it at the right angle and it shooting off the enigma stone on gans forehead; he falls seemingly defeated and as zelda runs to take the stone away gan through sheer panic lunges for the stone triggering his dragon transformation and making way for the final fight

(summary of the end: in the final fight gan snatches up both link and zelda once he transformed into the black dragon and takes flight toward the sky, zelda falls from between his teeth and knowing that she cant get to link and help him in any way from the ground she, while falling, takes out the enigma stone she has kept in a save container in her backpack all this time and swallows it for her own transformation, in her white dragon form she takes active action and charges at gans head so link is freed, then supports him in the fight itself; at the end link plunges into dragon-gans mouth to reach the stone on the inside where he makes use of the 'medicine' previously made using the moonbloom taked from kogas secret lab, link and the stone are spit out and as gan reverses into a human and falls link is caught by zelda and he uses the second charge of it on her to bring her back as well; as all three fall from the skies as the sages have made their way through the tunnel that beast gan made earlier, they help link and zelda getting to the ground safely while the yiga do the same for gan - final end end isnt determined yet but this is waht i got so far and even if i have written this once before i felt it was fitting to do it again and no you cant tell me this is too much of a wishfulfillment thing bc it literally is just that as i cant actualyl change whats in the game, so even if im trying to make it all fit well together i can still do what i want nhakjdbgshdbhsjka)

(totk rewritten project)

#ganondoodles #zelda #art #tloz #loz #ganondoodles rewrites totk #ganondorf #i wanted to do a little summary and it again ended up gigantic #anyway #design needs a little fine tuning but i just made this in one burst of motivation so uuuh yeah #love me some parallels #and yes both the dragons only appear in the final fight #bc the focus is on the cycle of violence that the sonau started again even if they had good intentions and you working to break that #you know- characters having complicated relationships and some things not working out well through a series of mistakes #not one dragon twist thing .. or whatever the canon game actually wanted to say except goD gIVeN mONarChY GOoD - EvIL gUy evIL #and yeah once you have seen one of my monster design you have seen them all #it always ends up like this but what can i say #das wat i be doing

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silly0shark · 3 months

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Alien au :3 by silly 0 shark

More art and info abt it vvv

Anxiety and the new emotions are aliens disguised as humans going to college except for Nostalgia who is an English professor and Envy a kid Disgust babysits. All the emotions except for Nostalgia are in a club which so happens to be about aliens. Although it’s mostly a club where they hangout as many of the members don’t care about aliens and are only there to have fun with friends. Unfortunately Anxiety and her crew have no clue that’s the true reason and join hoping to disprove aliens are real most don’t care but fear has his suspicions on them.

Anxiety’s alien design.

she has 2 pupils and 4 arms along with a tail cus I felt like it lol

Human disguise

Fear

+ doodles

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fanficsbyme-causeimgay · 3 months

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Disclaimer: Image this in the Van Helsing werewolf design, please. I love that movie.

Imagine, if you will, the full moon.

Now— you were never superstitious or believed in the supernatural, but when it is running at you on all fours in the darkness of the street, with sharp white teeth and with a single red glowing eye? Then, you do believe in the supernatural. So you do the sensible thing: You forget about putting the trash out, closes the door, and says, "Nope!" Before simply locking all doors and windows.

You stay in your room, door locked and under the blankets, just to make sure nothing bad could get you— After all, monsters don't fuck with you if you got a blanket on, that's the rules! You ignore the weird whining sounds and the weird scratching sounds, and fear gives way to tiredness once the adrenaline fades away.

You wake up the next day, believing the whole thing to be a nightmare, a figment of your masochistic mind paying tricks on you.

Werewolves don't exist!

But neighbors do. And you got a new one!

The first time you met was just a tiny little bit surprising, but normal when context was given— His dog ran into your porch. He had this beautiful Black Labrador that had a harness that read [Service Dog] on it, and her collar had [Leyla] written on it. And she was looking for something? She was sniffing everything around. Apparently, she was a new dog and was still being trained, which explained a lot about her behavior.

"Oh, hi- I apologize for Leyla!" He was tall. Definitely taller than you. Maybe 6'6? The most striking thing about his appearance was the eyepatch on his left eye, a plain black one. He walked with a limp and had a darkish green jacket over a plain white shirt and tight shorts. "I'm your new neighbor, Kata." And oh, his voice was just like the best thing you've heard - It was beautiful.

You soon find out that he used to be in the military. He worked closely with the K-9 bomb-sniffing unit to help clean the fields, and sadly, a newly trained dog missed one of the bombs, which led to his incident. He seemed pretty open and sincere when speaking about his experience as a veteran, not shy to express and answer your questions even going further and above.

When asked why, he simply answered: "You just wanted to learn more about me, so I taught you more." With a smile that was, honestly, quite breath taking.

Regardless of your little interactions, nothing seemed to be going on - much to your dismay - because he was clearly very hot and showed interest in you. Maybe it was the "don't ask don't tell" thing that the military has? You felt silly thinking about it, mostly because he never showed clear interest, so you decided not to assume anything of it.

In truth, however, he was unhealthy obsessed with you. He was constantly spending hours of his day listening to your breathing, to your heartbeat, to your little noises that you weren't even aware you made! Did you know you have this habit of clicking your tongue when you're playing games and sometimes something you didn't want to happen happens? Did you know you hum the sound of commercial jingles sometimes? Did you know that when you're asleep, you're quite vocal about your dreams, even if what you're saying doesn't make any sense? Did you know you smell like soft petrichor mixed with tulips and brown sugar when you're relaxed? Did you know he likes to watch you sleep from the window? Did you know that sometimes he breaks into your room while you're asleep and just stands beside you? Did you know he can't control it?

It's in his very nature.

Like humans can't help but breathe, tell stories, eat, and lie - Werewolves can't help but obsess over their Mates. Their Soulmates. Their one and only. Their destined - Call it what you will, but he loves you in ways you can't ever hope to understand... He wants you so badly, you should be happy he isn't laying it thick on you, that he is controlling himself to not jump you and fuck you everywhere, that-

Oh.

The full moon is here.

It happened really easily. You were asleep when you heard a pretty clear and rough sound of snoring, alongside the heavy weight of an arm on you, a weird, smooth, and wet sensation on your neck, and the heat of a body hugging you from behind. You couldn't move your body. Was this sleep paralysis? You look down and see arms of black fur holding you tight, and although you're confused, your mind finds reason: This is just a dream.

Oh, a dream! Of course this is a dream.

You huff... This might not be the exact first time you've dreamed of a big werewolf man and probably won't be the last! What? They're hot!

What was hotter, however, was waking up with a naked man in your bed. It was a shock at first, mostly because you're pretty sure you didn't have Kata sleeping in your bed last night...? Right? Was the dream about the werewolf his brain making up something to summarize or excuse Kata's presence in his bed? Dreams do that sometimes... But hey, looking at that dick was more than enough to make you forget about his presence for a few moments - It was, uhm, quite big.

"My eyes are up here..." His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and like his tone of voice, he was looking very smugly at you: "Well, eye. Singular." He chuckled at his own words, poiting at his lack of eye - In fact, an unnaturally dark hole was there, almost like darkness originated from it.

You ask him what he is doing in your bed. Naked as the day he was born - but much, much hotter (and legal!)

And that is when he drops the ball.

So... as it turns out, werewolves are real... And they soulmates, and you are Kata's soulmate... Although overwhelmed at first, curiosity overwhelms you because of the fucking implications. What else is real? Magic? Fairies? Wizards!? Do they go to walmart!? Also, do werewolves follow normal wolf biology - Can they smell really far, hear really well, and do they mate for life too? And, also, do they have knots? As a rather curious person, you asked them.

"Well... I can show you." He replied, taking your hand for a moment and hesitating: "I-if you want?" He was rather nervous - the truth is, although he seemed confident, he was quite nervous. A wolf needs to be strong for their Mate. What about him? He is crippled. He is weak. He isn't good enough...

"...show me." Although a bit oblivious to flirting, you wouldn't say no to this.

As it turns out, werewolves do, in fact, have knots. And they can knot even in human form!

#monster boyfriend #monster imagine #monster x reader #monster x human #monster #monsterfucker #monster fucker #gay #male reader #werewolf #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf neighbor

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saphronethaleph · 3 months

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Linguistic drift

A faint presence touched his consciousness, and Master Ikrit’s muscles twitched.

He fell out of his trance with an exhalation, then stretched himself out.

As a kushiban, he had two long ears, and a vaguely lapine face, and four paws supporting his body with a long tail behind him. He was covered all over in off-white fur, and he weighed about ten pounds.

This made him noticeably smaller than his old Master, but his old Master had been noticeably smaller than just about everyone else so that had never really bothered him.

Stifling a yawn, Ikrit exchanged stretching muscles for stretching his senses, and he felt the Force around him for answers.

The Palace of the Woolamander remained closed. That much, at least, was good news… and that he had woken at all meant that there was someone nearby who could touch the Force.

Flicking his tail, Ikrit felt for their presence, and detected a flowing current of light. Like a miniature humming whirl of sound going up and down the scales, muted but still present.

They were definitely heading in this direction, and there were others with them. Not sensitive to the Force, not like the single presence he could feel strongly, but it told him that they were moving towards him using some kind of airspeeder – or spacecraft.

Next, the small Jedi Master felt for his own internal sense of time – and flicked his ears, trying to hide his somewhat embarrassed surprise.

It seemed he had been in hibernation for around three hundred and seventy standard years.

Master Yoda would never have approved of quite such a long nap, and right now Ikrit wondered if perhaps he should have done something else.. but what was done was done, and he let his embarrassment go into the Force.

Then he focused, and sprang up to the roof of the Palace with a single spring.

He was going to need to ask the visitors for help, after all.

“Any idea who built these temples, General?” Bail asked, looking around. “This one’s designed differently to the other two, but it’s got to be the same style – despite being so far apart.”

“We don’t have much,” Dodonna replied, apologetically. “A lot about the moon has been lost, but that’s exactly what makes it a suitable base location – we can hide a lot of power signatures behind this much stone.”

He glanced at Bail’s daughter, who was looking around herself with great interest. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to bring her along?”

“I’m sure Princess Leia is quite able to keep silent on important matters,” Bail replied. “Isn’t that correct?”

“Of course,” Leia replied, with a smile. “I haven’t told anyone about the thing.”

“The thing?” Bail repeated, amused.

“Oh, I couldn’t explain,” Leia replied. “After all, then I would have told someone about it.”

She frowned, slightly. “What exactly are we trying to do here?”

“Investigate the thickness of the walls, mostly,” Bail told her. “Like Dodonna said, thick walls can conceal power signatures – if the walls are thick enough, this could be an independent base.”

“Or if they’re less thick, they might still make for a good satellite base,” Dodonna added. “To cover an evacuation, if the main base is found out – an unexpected fighter strike coming from a novel location can do a lot for clearing the air.”

“Got it,” Leia said. “And how can I help?”

“Carrying a sensor pack should do,” Bail suggested. “We can get good density and dispersal readings by flying the ship over while there’s sensor packs in different parts of the structure.”

He winked at Dodonna. “I’ve learned a few things myself, General.”

“I wouldn’t want to suggest otherwise!” Dodonna replied, with a chuckle. “I’ll get my men turned out – and an extra pack for the Princess.”

Ikrit’s ears twitched, as he watched the group disembark. They were mostly humans, with a scattering of other races.

No kushiban, but he was expecting that. His people were mostly not wanderers.

The problem was, what he could hear indicated that there had been some quite serious linguistic drift… which meant he could have serious trouble making himself understood.

On the plus side, though, being this close let him pinpoint the person with the ability to touch the Force. Ikrit could work past at least some of the problems by working with concepts, allowing the other adept – a human girl, not yet into her full growth – to fill in his meaning without him needing to use exactly the right words.

He could also see where she was going, and turned to scamper down into the Palace to get ahead of her.

A few minutes of going down though the Palace’s chambers – much the same as they had been over three hundred and fifty years ago, except for the precise layout of plants – and Ikrit was ready to introduce himself.

Introduce himself to a girl who was very strong in the Force, but who bore no Padawan’s braid and who had no sign of that strength being trained.

It was quite strange, but Ikrit shook himself out, then appeared out from behind a rock with a smile as the girl entered a corridor.

“Greetings,” he said, weighting his words with the Force and aiming to let the concepts he was transmitting flow through the air. “It is nice to meet you.”

The girl stopped, and blinked at him.

“You (communicate<>can talk)?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ikrit agreed. “I am not quite speaking your language.”

“I can (understand you<>follow your meaning),” the girl replied, looking confused. “How?”

“The Force,” Ikrit replied. “You could do it as well. If you agree to a mutual connection, with my help you can become a female-padawan.”

Leia stared at the strange creature smiling up at her, covered in fine white fur.

“It’s something (you)(can learn),” he said. “If you (make a contract)(with me), you can become (a magical girl)!”

#star wars #leia organa #princess leia #ikrit #yeah it was mostly for that last line

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persevereforahappyending · 4 months

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Maybe in Another Life |11|

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hunter of Artemis!Reader

Summary: You are a Hunter of Artemis, but you start to question what you truly want when you meet Clarisse and get to know her.

Warnings: Slight Battle of the Labyrinth Spoilers

Word Count: 4k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9 | ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12 | ch. 13 | ch. 14 | ch. 15 | ch. 16 | ch. 17

You groaned, straightening your back, and stretching, as you woke up. You felt mostly healed up, you looked over the injury on your shoulder and leg, it seemed it was all healed up, leaving only faint little scratches. “How long was I out?” You asked. Time moved differently but given how rested you were you felt you had slept a lot longer than you should have.

Clarisse was still facing the waterfall before she turned to face you. “A couple hours,” Clarisse said.

“You should have woken me for my watch.” You pulled yourself to your feet, walking a short distance to see you were no longer limping. “Want to get some rest now?”

Clarisse shook her head. “We should get moving. As nice as this place is,” she looked around. When you weren’t being chased by a giant bat creature you had to admit the place was rather gorgeous, dozens of waterfalls flowing and cascading down smooth dark grey rocks. They flowed into a darkness you didn’t want to go into, but you couldn’t deny the view. “We need to find a way out.”

“You need to be well rested,” you tried to reason.

“I’m fine,” she shrugged you off.

“If today is anything like yesterday you need to be alert, you-”

“I’ll be fine,” Clarisse snapped.

You sucked in a breath; you weren’t going to point out how cranky she clearly was. “Okay,” you surrendered. Children of Ares were so stubborn, even when you knew you were right, there were times you couldn’t bother arguing with them.

The two of you gathered your stuff and made your way out from behind the waterfall. It still looked like nighttime, light shining in from somewhere you still couldn’t find, making the water shine. Out of all the places in the world you’d been to, all the isolated, untouched by human, places, nowhere had as crystal clear of water as this place.

“Think it’s safe to drink?” Clarisse asked.

You looked at the water. It was crystal clear; you didn’t even see fish or life of any sort living in it. Though the only creature you had seen so far was the giant bat. You were also in the labyrinth; it was designed to kill. You could only shrug, maybe the water was safe, or maybe it was poison that would slowly kill the both of you if you drank it.

Clarisse shrugged. “Whatever, it’s worth the risk.” She slung her backpack around, digging through it before pulling out a water bottle. “Always be prepared.” You looked down at her with a soft smile.

“I was only meant to be gone a few hours,” you sighed, you had no idea how much time was passing in the real world, you had no idea how long you had even been in the labyrinth, it felt like hours, but it had been nonstop since you fell in there. It felt like you hadn’t drank anything in days.

“Don’t worry, I’ll share.” Clarisse gave you a teasing smirk as she held the water bottle under the waterfall, filling it up to the brim.

“A child of Ares sharing?” You gasped.

“Shut up,” she aggressively shoved the now full water bottle into your ribs.

You chuckled, taking a big gulp before handing it back to her. You waited a few seconds and when you didn’t drop dead you decided you were probably fine. The water was the most satisfying drink you had ever had. Clarisse took a gulp, then refilled the little you had drunk to top it off.

The two of you made your way around the island, looking for a good spot to climb. You could have jumped from island to island but you both decided to climb up to where the waterfall was flowing down from was probably the best bet. You weren’t sure where a door out of there could be, but the last door opened up through the floor and you dropped down onto one of the rock islands, so anything was possible.

“You got any rope in there?” You joked as you looked up the side of the cliff. You had climbed worse, though you usually had the other Hunters, Artemis, and some sort of climbing gear.

You turned, still quietly chuckling to yourself when Clarisse didn’t answer. Your mouth hung open when you saw Clarisse digging through her backpack, pulling out some rope and a hook. When she was all done, she looked up, seeming to realize you were watching her. “What?” She asked.

“Nothing, you just,” you gestured down to the rope and hook. “Really were prepared for anything.”

“Of course,” she slung her bag back over her shoulders. “You can never know what to expect on a quest.”

You nodded, that was true. You never knew what monsters you’d run into or where you’d end up on the journey. Most demigods only prepared by having the basic necessities, food, money, a weapon, and if they were really lucky a couple pieces of ambrosia. Clarisse wasn’t most demigods though, she was a child of Ares, she loved a fight, she was always prepared for a fight.

She handed you a rope and you began tying it around your waist as she did the same, then she clipped your two ropes together. Being connected was dangerous, if one of you fell you could bring the other down with you, but on the other hand if one of you fell the other could stop you from plummeting to your death. Clarisse spun the rope a few times, getting some good momentum before releasing it. You watched as it sailed up into the air, wondering if it would be long enough. It didn’t hit the top, but it did catch on a couple rocks just before the edge. Clarisse pulled on the rope tightly, then both of you did the same, using all your strength to make sure it would hold both of your weight. When the hook didn’t budge the two of you began your trek up the side of the waterfall.

The waterfall didn’t look as big before you started climbing it. There were plenty of ridges to put your feet and hands on as the two of you climbed up. You each only nearly fell once, when you got closer to the waterfall the rocks got slippery. Clarisse’s hand slipped once, leaving her hanging on with only one hand until she could regain her balance. Your foot slipped when you went to push off a rock, forcing you to claw at the rocks to maintain your grip.

When the two of you finally got to the top, pulling yourselves over the edge, you both just laid there, the only sound coming from your heavy breathing. After a moment you both pulled yourselves to your feet and got a look at your new terrain. Much like down below it was all darkness and rock, though there were no more floating islands or bridges connecting to the main one you were on.

“What’s that?” You asked, pointing at something through the darkness.

Clarisse squinted, trying to determine what it was. “I don’t know,” she said.

You both looked at each other and when you gave a little shrug, she pulled out her dagger, you pulled out your bow, and the two of you walked into the darkness. There was a slight glimmer, in the distance, you were just hoping it wasn’t another monster. When you finally got to your destination you saw it was another rock, your eyes trailed up but unlike the last cliff there was no waterfall, it looked never ending as the tip disappeared in the darkness.

“Over here,” Clarisse whispered, nodding her head to the side.

You furrowed your brow but didn’t question her as she began making her way around the side of the rock wall. Around the side was a small opening, it looked to be a cave of some sort. The only way either of you could fit was by sliding through sideways, there was no guarantee it would ever open up more, for all you knew it led to a dead end and it wasn’t actually a cave.

Clarisse unzipped her bag again, digging around until she pulled out a flashlight and a headlamp. “Preference?” She asked, holding each of them out to you.

You shrugged and took the flashlight. Clarisse nodded and strapped the headlamp around her head. “Ready?” You nodded and Clarisse squeezed through the small crack in the side of the rock wall. You gave the open cavern one last look before following after Clarisse, making sure to stick as close together as possible.

After what felt like an hour of squeezing through the tight space it finally opened up, allowing the two of you to walk properly. The rest of the passage was still narrow, meaning you and Clarisse couldn’t walk side by side. She tapped her shoulder, you instantly put your hand where she tapped, knowing what she meant. You didn’t know what lay ahead and you certainly didn’t want to get separated in a dark cave in the middle of the labyrinth.

You finally came to an open room; the walls were still all rock, but the ceiling was high. You pointed the flashlight up and the light got swallowed up by the darkness. You turned in a circle, using the flashlight to scan your surroundings. Everywhere you turned there was just more black rock. The room didn’t continue on into another tunnel and you didn’t see a way out anywhere.

“Should we turn back?” You asked. You weren’t sure how long you had been moving, it didn’t seem like you had covered much distance, but your body sure felt like you had been going nonstop for hours.

“Clarisse?” You asked, turning around when she hadn’t answered you. You saw her crouched down near the far end of the room. “What’s up?” You made your way to her side, tilting your head as you saw what she was looking at, a hint of light peeking out where the wall met the ground.

“Let’s see if this moves,” she said.

She was already jumping to her feet and feeling around the wall before you had processed what she said. You got to work, holding the flashlight in one hand while you felt around the other end of the wall with your other hand. Your head snapped to the side when you heard a low rumble. Clarisse quickly pulled her hand off a rock, taking a few steps back. You didn’t know what she did, but you followed her lead.

You watched as the part of the wall Clarisse had been standing in front of groaned, the bottom of the wall grinding against the ground as it opened up. When the grinding stopped, and the hidden door was fully open there was a blinding white light on the other side. You and Clarisse both raised your hands, trying to block the light. You squinted as best as you could trying to make out anything through the light but there was nothing.

You reached down, brushing your finger against the back of Clarisse’s hand. She turned to you; you could just barely make out her squinting at you. You gave her a nod, hoping she could see it. She took your hand in her own giving it a small squeeze, she understood. The two of you turned forward, facing the light, squinting as you both took the step forward, into the white light.

You blinked away the white spots, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the new lighting. When your vision was finally clear enough you could see you were in a long corridor. The walls were once again made out of stone, perfectly cut rectangles forming the walls. You looked to Clarisse seeing her glance around the new location as well. You looked down, quickly letting go of her hand while clearing your throat.

On the other side of the corridor, you saw a door. It was closed but it was clearly a door. You hesitantly put one foot forward. As soon as your foot crunched down on the sand it began to shift beneath you. Clarisse yanked you back as the floor rumbled and the sand parted out of the way, falling in between the cracks of the tile it was resting on. You crouched down, under the stand revealed a pathway, large stone squares with various carvings, each of them leading to the door.

“I don’t like this,” Clarisse said.

“How do you want to play this?” You asked. “There’s got to be a trick of some sort.” Your eyes darted around the room, looking for what death trap could await you if you walked forward.

Clarisse swung her backpack off her shoulder again. “Let’s see how sensitive this thing is.” She dug around in her bag until she pulled out a little blue ball. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at her. “Selina thought it would help with my anger issues,” she used finger quotes over the words anger issues, making you chuckle.

Clarisse crouched down and rolled the ball across the tiles. You were pretty sure you both held your breath as the ball rolled over the first tile and nothing happened. As soon as the ball touched the second tile the tile dropped, shooting up a burst off hot air. The both of you leaned back, feeling the heat from the air, you could smell the magma that was surely below the tiles.

“You got anymore of those?” you asked, glancing at Clarisse hopefully. She shook her head and you let out a sigh, you should have known that would make it too easy.

You stepped forward onto the first tile that you knew was safe. You leaned over, peeking down through the hole. As you suspected you could see lava flowing below, you could feel the heat from it rising. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a handful of drachmas. You sighed, you were sure Artemis wouldn’t be happy to hear about you using drachmas to test the floor, but it was either the money or your life.

You tossed one drachma to the left of the fallen tile, letting out a shaky breath when it just made a little clang and didn’t end up in the lava. You looked back at Clarisse one last time before you took a step onto the same tile. When you didn’t fall to your death into lava you knew the coin was heavy enough to work. You continued your slow movements down the hall, tossing the coin onto one of the next tiles in the next row. You hit the wrong tile and your drachma was sent into the lava plenty of times. You were hoping Artemis would understand when you didn’t return with much change.

You finally let out a sigh of relief when your feet landed safely on the other side of the tiles, where the door was. You turned back to Clarisse who was staring across the pathway, seeing the lava bubbling below. “Just step exactly where I did,” you said, keeping your voice as calm as possible.

Clarisse nodded and began making her way to you. You watched her, making sure she didn’t move for an unsafe tile. It wasn’t a straight path and some tiles required jumping to. You were sure with all the tiles it wasn’t scary but with the missing ones you were jumping across molten lava. One wrong move, one slip of your foot, and you’d be sent straight to your death.

When Clarisse was safely by your side again you looked at the door. There was an arch creating the doorway but where the door should be was a flat stone block. The two of you began feeling around the arch, hoping to unlock something, you didn’t want to walk back across the lava. When you turned around you saw the remaining tiles crumble into the lava, leaving you with nowhere to go.

You turned back around when you felt the ground begin to rumble. You looked down at your feet, watching the sand shift around, you were waiting for the ground to crack open and swallow you up. That didn’t happen though, the stone block in the doorway began to shift, fully opening and revealing the doorway.

You slowly stepped forward peeking your head through the doorway. It was another dark room, though not as dark as the cave. Clarisse reached up, pressing the button on the headlamp she was still wearing. Since she had the light Clarisse took the lead, stepping into the room. Once you were fully in the room you didn’t bother glancing back as you heard the door closing behind you.

You didn’t need Clarisse’s head lamp for long as lights above began to flicker. When the lights finally kicked on you saw you were in a normal-looking room, filled with old technology. You might have been born before all that was invented and spent all your time in the woods, but you knew the computers and control panels were incredibly outdated.

“Do you know how to use any of this?” you asked, gesturing to all the foreign technology. Even if nothing was outdated and worked perfectly there was no way you’d be able to figure it out.

“Do I look like the kind of person who sat in front of a screen all day?” Clarisse asked, giving you a deadpanned look.

You shrugged. “You judged me for never seeing a movie.”

Clarisse rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s different.” She walked to the center of the room, spinning in a circle as she got a look at everything. “This is something else.”

You took one side of the room while she took the other. You had no idea what anything was or did, but you began hitting buttons. If something turned on you weren’t sure what would happen, for all you knew it would release some giant monster. You were mindlessly hitting the buttons until you pressed a large red one. There was a loud groan, making your head snap up.

“What did you do?” Clarisse snapped, spinning around.

You turned around, opening your mouth to defend yourself but nothing came out. Your mouth was left hanging open as you heard skittering. It was like little bits of metal scraping against more metal.

You cautiously made your way to the middle of the room. You and Clarisse stood back-to-back once again, waiting for whatever was coming. You tilted your head, standing up a bit straighter when out from under one of the tables came a little metal spider. The machine scurried its way across the floor, stopping at your and Clarisse’s feet, you could almost swear it looked up at you.

“Is it going to kill us?” you whispered, sparing a glance at Clarisse.

The little metal spider moved forward, climbing up your boot slightly. Your entire body tensed up, but nothing happened. “Is that…” Clarisse trailed off. You raised an eyebrow as she stepped around the spider, crouching down to get a closer look. “Hephaestus.”

“So, it’s a friendly?”

“I would never use the words Hephaestus and friend in the same sentence,” Clarisse mumbled under her breath. “But it’s probably the thing least likely to kill us in here.”

The mechanical spider backed off your boot and began scurrying across the room again. “Where’s it going?” you looked to Clarisse. You both shrugged and followed the spider. Following a mechanical spider created by a god was sadly probably the least deadly thing you could do in the labyrinth.

The two of you followed the mechanical spider around the control panels until it stopped at the back wall. You furrowed your brow, there was no telling how long the little spider had been in the labyrinth, it was probably malfunctioning. You were about to ask for other ideas of ways out of the room when a door opened. Your eyes widened but before you could process what was happening the spider was moving again.

The two of you didn’t have anything better to do so you continued following the spider. You followed it until it led you to a long narrow passageway. You could see a singular door at the end of the passage. You took a deep breath before stepping into the hallway. About halfway to the door the entire hall began to shake and rumble.

“Run,” Clarisse whispered. “Run!”

The two of you took off down the hall, you were vaguely aware of the mechanical spider scurrying faster down the hall to the door. You did a full sprint down the hall, sparing a glance behind you to see the walls and ceiling caving in, creating a giant dust storm. You hit the door full force, Clarisse slamming into you. You both stumbled over each other as you tried to undo the latch on the door as the hallway continued to collapse. Just as the sand was beginning to blind you and send you into a coughing fit, the latch moved and you and Clarisse were tumbling through the door.

You coughed, shaking the sand from your hair. You were doubled over, your hands on your knees as you tried to regain your breath and get the sand out of your system. When you stood up, clearing your throat a few more times, you scrunched your eyebrows, spinning around in a circle at your surroundings. The first thing you noticed was the busted up mechanical spider at your feet, seeming to have been crushed by the collapsing tunnel.

“This is a weird room,” you said. You spun around again, looking up to the sky. The sun seemed to be beating down on you, you could see it and feel it. You hadn’t seen the sun since before you entered the hotel back in New York, so you weren’t sure what that meant. You were also standing in the middle of the street, surrounded by buildings.

“I know this place,” Clarisse whispered. You turned to face her, seeing her spin around as well, but instead of a look of confusion she had one of familiarity. “We’re in Arizona.”

You furrowed your brow, even more confused than before. When you turned around again you saw the door you most likely exited from. “Look,” you said, nodding to Clarisse.

Clarisse turned around, her eyes widening at the door. “That’s the symbol Annabeth told me to look for.” She stepped closer, looking the door up and down. It looked like a normal metal door at the back of a standard building, but this one had a Delta symbol glowing in the middle of it.

“Does this mean we escaped?” you asked slowly. You still weren’t sure you could believe what you were seeing.

Clarisse slowly nodded. “I think so.” She turned back to face you. “And I know where we are,” she smiled. “We’re not to far from my house.”

“You’re from Arizona?” that was the least important thing you had learned or to be going on, but you couldn’t help but smile at the new bit of information.

Clarisse looked down at the street, kicking her feet at an invisible rock. “We can go back to my place and…” when she looked up again her eyes widened.

“What?” you asked, searching Clarisse’s face for what was wrong. Clarisse was staring past you, making you turn around to see a boy about your age pacing back and forth in the street. His clothes were ripped up and caked in dirt, his hands gripped his hair tightly, shaking his head as he mumbled to himself.

“Chris,” Clarisse whispered. You looked back at Clarisse, not missing the concern and care on her face. The only Chris you knew of and that held, and significance was the boy from Camp Half-Blood, he was one of the first to go off and join Luke.

Taglist: @cxcilla @touchmyfracturedomens @luclue @manu-007s-world @death-in-love @nenas19 @mynameiskaci @danonered

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse x reader #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #maybe in another life

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arandomnerd810 · 3 months

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personal TADC character analysis

uh warning this is long lol

autism time let’s go (/not in a negative way i have autism) stretches hands * I’ll go in order of the character episodes cause why not we have it (see below) i’ll put periods but it will just be to make it more readable not to be intimidating lolll

btw im completely open to interpretations of characters changing throughout the series this is just for fun

Gooseworx has said this series is mostly focused on characters rather than lore, and from what we know, i truly believe it. I don’t think any of the current characters will abstract because of this.

(I put a version of this in the glitch inn discord theory thing so if you recognize it that’s why)

Pomni: we already know her deal pretty well, as we’ve already had her episode. uuuh if anyone’s going to do something important lore wise it will probably be her as she’s the main character but can’t rlly tell what that may be. to review ep 2 though she’s an outcast who has felt like she was nothing and is a logical thinker.

(Kinger and Zooble will there their focus episode but i put it in order of who was revealed to be the ep 3 focus first)

Zooble: From their design (the entire motif is it can be changed at any time) and the fact she doesn’t know his gender, we’re dealing with some pretty clear identity issues. Friends with Gangle seems cool excited for next episode to learn more about them!

Kinger: One of the most interesting characters so far. I feel like we will get to learn more about abstraction though Queenie, the X-ed out door that looks like a female version of him. If i had to guess, since Gooseworx said they were not siblings, they were a couple. (Also judging by his age and the fact he could have been married, he may have been a father yeowch imagine that) I can see the common theory of the insect collection implying he was a coder before getting trapped, but i could also see him being some random guy who just likes bugs lol. He seems like really sweet guy behind his constant anxiety and disassociating.

Gangle: (My faveorite human rn) Her mask design can be interpreted in a lot of ways but it’s clear that the happy mask isn’t her real personality. My take on it rn is she doesn’t wana bother people with her stuff so she pretends she’s happy? She seems easily embarrassed and def has self esteem lower than the last circle of hell. What’s interesting though is she’s willing to stand up for herself from time to time, even though she’s easily shot down after.

Ragatha: Waaaay too nice for her own good. Also probably has self esteem lower than the last circle of hell and bases her self worth of others approval. Though she’s been here the second longest, she seems a lot more normal than Kinger. Makes me question how long apart their introductions have been. Probably copes via escapism.

Jax: I can see why everyone is very interested in him cause me too. He seems like the only fourth wall breaky guy (unless you count Caine cause of his intro at the pilot)which is rlly interesting how did he figure out more than everyone else? what’s with the keys? i have no clue lmao. He’s an asshole who makes the best of his situation by torturing everyone else. At the end of the day though, he’s a human and was sad at kaufmo’s abstraction but he probably isolates himself so it would probably be the same for anyone

but waAitTt a moment

that’s 6 humans but Gooseworx said we would look into 7 (cause of the “other” part) in her twitter post talking about the character focus timeline so we know our fav character won’t be left behind ⁉️⁉️⁉️ I hear you not asking well my dear hypothetical person, who better to fill the 7th character than Caine?

Why you did not ask? Too bad i’m info dumping. First, he’s the main antagonist and alongside Pomni, the commercial face (or lack their of haha teeth and eye joke) of the series. he’s an important character and loved by many. (and hated equally if not more aside the point lmaooo)

Yes, gooseworx can lie about stuff but I think she’s smarter than to lead this heavy into Caine depth/ angst territory if there wasn’t going to be anything On top of that, the entire purpose of the timeline post was so we know our faveorite characters weren’t getting treated poorly. It’s unlike for a character based show to suddenly drop such a major character for some random other guy were introduced to later or smth. i mean cmon there’s three episodes after all the humans at least one of them has to be focused on my boy.

Caine: I believe he really does have good intentions and wants to help but just does not understand people at all. This means he’s like an anxiety disorder; it wants to help, solves some issues but creates 500 more. Judging by the Tumblr post, loneliness may play a big part in what’s to come? I’ve always had a feeling his front was extremely fake and his VA saying “breaks keyfable” (an act that pretends it’s true) supports that theory. Episode two gives some insecurity vibes when Zooble didn’t want to go on the adventure. I find that pretty interesting cause he didn’t care at all if people went on the gloink adventure or not. Maybe he puts some adventures over others and he could have been proud of the candy adventure cause more time and care was put into it and he made a new AI. Why did he blue screen? i feel like he could have some blockages on what he can say built in though im not sure why he was blocked then if he even was. one of the biggest questions i have ab him currently tbh. what’s with him grabbing his cane like that in ep 2? if i had to guess simply be nervous = that? His VA also knows some depth to him even though his focus episode is likely going to be at least one of the last 3 episodes, which they have not gotten to recording yet. You know what this means Caine angst solidarity club? Sad Caine so more fan angst appetizers before the main cannon feast let’s friccin go‼️‼️⁉️⁉️

(try to guess my fav impossible /j)

#glitch productions #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc caine #tadc pomni #tadc gangle #tadc zooble #tadc kinger #tadc ragatha #tadc jax

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tyrantisterror · 8 months

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A Dozen Or So Great Vampire Ladies

Ok, so, on a mostly unrelated post the topic of good vampire ladies came up, and @bisexualdaikaiju suggested/challenged me to do a top 10 vampire women list. As a self-professed lover of vampire women, it felt like a challenge I couldn't back down from. But it is kind of challenging, for two kind of contradictory reasons.

First, while there are MANY female vampires in fiction, most of them feel like afterthoughts, getting far less characterization than their male counterparts, who more often than not are the star villains of the show. When these supporting lady vampires do get something to do, it's generally the same role: make their human lovers sad when they rise from the dead as a monster that has to be killed, an emotional beat that is often undercut by a lot of these vampire women not getting much characterization to endear them to us before they died. Everyone wants to have the Lucy Westerna plot beat from Dracula but they don't want to do the work that Bram did to make Lucy lovable. The lady vamps who get to step out of Lucy's shadow are rare - but that just makes them all the more wonderful.

The second problem is that, since this is an obsession of mine that few seem to share (there are lots of vampire fans, but man do the boy vamps get to hog the spotlight among them), I've done a lot of scattered thinking about it and I just know I'm bound to forget at least one excellent lady vampire character that should be here. And whittling it down to ten, and trying to rank them? That's too hard! My thoughts are too mercurial to do that reliably in a way I don't forget!

So instead here's a list of, like, a dozen or so lady vampires that I think are just fucking stellar, many of which I think break the mold of what pop culture makes us expect lady vampires to be. It is not ranked - I love all these characters more or less equally, and think it's a lot more interesting to see how they take their archetype in different directions than to figure out which one is "best" of the lot.

Carmilla Karnstein

I'm going to start with the most famous literary female vampire, Mircalla Karnstein from Carmilla. I think she might be the first vampire to have an unhealthy obsession with using anagrams of her real name as aliases, though I'm sure now that I've typed that someone will find an earlier example to school me. She's also the one who popularized the idea of lady vampires being extremely sapphic, with an arguably genuine romantic affection for her female victims. She's got well-deserved clout, basically, and like Dracula has been adapted countless times and reinterpreted in some excellent ways. My favorite screen Carmilla is Ingrid Pitt's take, which captures her fierceness, passion, and tragic nature so well.

2. Amy from Fright Night

Ok, we're having one Lucy Westerna knockoff on this list, but as Lucy knockoffs go, Amy is one of the best. It actually helps that she spends 90% of her movie as a human, because we get to know and love her so much before she turns monstrous. And once she does...

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It is pants-shittingly terrifying. I will never stop raving about the vampire designs in this movie - they made their "game faces" so fucking monstrous and I feel like in a better world this would be the standard ever since, especially since they still gave the vampires pathos while making them so ghastly when they've got their feeding faces on.

3. Drusilla

Buffy the Vampire Slayer had a bunch of vampire characters, and to its credit they did a decent job of making the ladies just as distinct as the gents. Harmony and Darla could both have made this list, but my favorite was always Drusilla, who was so traumatized before she became a vampire that it kind of overwhelms the demon spirit inside her. Like, bare minimum thing to make a lady vampire more interesting than 90% of other female vampires in fiction: give her at least one personality trait, preferably an interesting one, outside of being a vampire. Drusilla's fun, and she survives the entire series after dumping her boyfriend to be a single female vampire. Good for her.

4. Ruby from Scary Godmother

Ok look I am a fake Scary Godmother fan but kudos to the artist of the books for making a lady vampire who's very clearly of the nosferatu mold and is also explicitly benign and sweet. A+ vampire lady character design. I hope it doesn't awaken anything in me.

5. Nadja

What We Do in the Shadows is excellent at finding new takes on vampires in general - it even made me actually like Psychic Vampires as a concept, a feat I thought was impossible - but goddamn do I love Nadja specifically. She's got a distinct personality as vampire ladies go, being very confident and self-assured while also being a complete fucking goober (it is a comedy, after all). She's perfectly capable of being terrifying AND hilarious, often at the same time. A vampire girl failure, in the parlance of our site. I love her.

6. Lady Dimitrescu

I know that she's apparently only in a fourth of the game, but it's still pretty great that Resident Evil 8 decided its mascot villain - its equivalent of the Tyrant, G, Nemesis, etc. - would be the hottest woman I've ever seen a milf an 8 foot tall lady vampire. She's not dainty and willowy like most lady vamps in fiction - not an ambush hunter - but rather HUGE and capable of tossing a human around like a rag doll. She's a physical powerhouse and she looks fine feminine while doing it. Despite being an unabashed blood-sucking monster, she still has enough depth and complexity to have important relationships (like a genuine love for her "giant mass of hive mind flies" daughters), and also she gets to have an awesome transformation into a fungal vampire dragon, which is rad as hell. Also goddamn, her fashion sense is immaculate.

7. Hecate from Hellboy

"Hey, she's not a vampire! She's a goddess! That doesn't count!" Fuck you, my list, my rules. Hecate posits herself as the progenitor and mother of vampires, she drinks blood, and her main form in the comic is as a sicknasty lamia version of the iron maiden used by Elizabeth fucking Bathory, if she doesn't count as a vampire, nothing should. She is the concept of a vampire amped up to maximum capacity, a major mythological figure and an awesome villain.

...also I lowkey shipped her and Hellboy when I was a teenager. They could have made it work!

8 - 12. Carmilla and her girl squad from Castlevania

I suppose I could have counted Castlevania's Carmilla as an adaptation of Miss Karnstein - they're both basted out of Styria, both sapphic, and it's clear she's meant to be an adaptation of the former, just as the Dracula of this show is meant to be a take on Bram's famous vampire. But ultimately they're VERY different characters in the grand scheme of things - Castlevania's Carmilla has none of the tenderness and vulnerability of her literary counterpart, instead being full of barely restrained fury. She is an excellent villain, complex enough to be interesting but thoroughly despicable enough to make it VERY satisfying when she bites it.

I also love her girl posse... in concept, at least. They've all got great designs and the groundwork of interesting characters, but of the the three, only Lenore, the waifish redhead, gets to do much of note. The two on the edges kind of just show up for a few scenes and then bail before the plot catches up to them, doing very little of note - though at least the big hunky one gets one of the coolest fight scenes in the whole show.

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Back to Lenore though - she gets a really nice character arc, and manages to become one of the few sympathetic vampires in the series (while still doing a lot of monstrous shit - she is not a defanged vampire by any stretch). I think her death scene is one of the most moving moments in the series finale.

13. Seras Victoria

A good female vampire has at least one non-vampire part of her personality, right? Ok, so, Seras is:

the muscle in almost every scene she is, which is to say, the one absolutely beating the shit out of people while her allies run for cover

the perky henchman/morality pet of one of history's greatest monsters

the sole ray of sunshine in cast of edgy, cigar-chomping grizzled mercnaries and antiheroes she's been pressganged into fighting alongside

the victim of some HIDEOUS trauma even before her vampirization

the protege of a wise master who gets a full hero's journey arc, taking up his mantle at the end of the series

Like, I love her. She's the secret protagonist of Hellsing. She's got layers like an onion. The scene where she killed Zora Blitz reminded me why I love anime.

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(yeah it's the TFS version fuck you)

14. Youko Shiragami

My Monster Secret is not a horror manga. It is a romantic comedy about a bunch of idiots trying to keep painfully obvious secrets hidden and succeeding only because almost everyone around them is as dumb as they are, just in very different ways. It is a manga where an entire chapter can be summarized as "all the characters race to get the last McRib, using their various supernatural abilities to try and cheat their way to the front of the pack." It is one of the funniest and most heart-warming stories I have ever read, one of my favorite romances of all time, and an excellent piece of long form story-telling.

One of the two main characters is Youko Shiragami, a vampire girl who can't let anyone know she's a vampire or else her dad will pull her out of school. She desperately wants to have a normal life with friends and, like, school shenanigans, but her fear of people uncovering her secret and hating her is so immense that she's been isolating herself from everyone, accidentally torturing herself by being close to what she wants but unable to actually have it.

At least, until Kuromine, the other main character of the story, discovers her secret while trying to ask her out on a date. He ends up promising to keep her secret, and the two of them form a real friendship that blossoms into a very sweet romance, where Youko gets to display all her incongruous personality traits that go against what you'd expect of vampires - namely, that she's kind of a ditz, with an unrefined style of speech and a complete inability to be suave and seductive. She's a sweet, flaky goofball with a big heart, who just happens to drink blood and tan really quickly in the sunlight. There is no other vampire like her, and the world is richer for her being in it.

15. Marceline, the Vampire Queen

This list isn't ranked, but if it was, I'd put Marceline at the top. I think she is not only the most unique and deeply characterized lady vampire in fiction, but ranks right up there with Dracula in how she redefines the idea of what a vampire can be. Like, look at the forms she takes!

There are DOZENS of different monstrous shapes Marceline takes during Adventure Time's 9+ seasons of television, and any one of them would be a superb and memorable vampire on its own. And she's ALL of them. Just on a design standpoint, she is a standout. I think only Dracula himself could compete.

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But she also explores what the concept of what a vampire is in ways no other vampire in fiction can, in part because of the unique nature of Adventure Time's setting. In a world where humans are an extreme minority and most people are weird monsters, a vampire isn't that odd, so we get to explore what being a vampire means divorced from the comparison to "normal" human beings. There's the expected tragedy to Marceline, of course - she's a 16 year old who has been stuck in that adolescent state for hundreds of years, and much of her character arc over the show (including the magnificent vampire-centric storyline, "Stakes") focuses on the horror of being stuck in that transitional state, not quite a child but not quite an adult. Marceline struggles to mature, to understand herself and others, and her vampirism both keeps her distant from reaching those goals but also gives her a lot of time to figure out how to approach them when the opportunity arirves. Marceline goes from one of the most immature and selfish characters in the show to perhaps the most emotionally intelligent, blossoming into a sensitive and thoughtful person she could never have been without first becoming a creature that seems so inherently opposed to ever having those traits.

And she did it all in a children's show where she was rarely if ever allowed to actually drink blood - a problem the writers got around by having her suck the red color out of things, which is right up there with the Joker Venom from BTAS in terms of genius ideas spawned by children's show censorship.

Marceline is the GOAT.

#Vampire Ladies #Youtube

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studiodrydock · 2 months

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Interview With a Werewolf - A deep dive into the character of Westley Vuk from Wylde Flowers

We've put together an in depth look at Wylde Flower's fuzziest romanceable character, Westley Vuk! 🐺💕

Westley, the romantic werewolf bookseller, is one of our most beloved characters, and we had the privilege of chatting with several members of the team involved with bringing him to life, including Iona Vorster (concept artist), Desiree Cifre (narrative director), Mike Taylor (animator) and Ray Chase (his voiceover artist).

We discussed all things Westley including his inspiration, design, and what makes him so popular (and dreamy)! Enjoy! ✨

Writing a Werewolf

Questions answered by: Desiree Cifre (Narrative Director)

Q: Can you start by telling us a little bit about Westley?

Desiree: Westley is a bookish werewolf originally from Alaska. He became a werewolf due to a case of mistaken identity. His identical twin brother, Lou, was a marksman for a logging company, and shot at a werewolf who then returned and attacked Westley one full moon. Once Westley turned into a werewolf, he vowed to keep his distance from humans to protect them and himself, and found safe harbor in the magical village of Ravenwood Hollow. He hopes to find a cure for his lycanthropy and in the meanwhile, prove that werewolves can be positive contributors to the magical community.

Q: What was your process like, including inspirations and challenges, when creating Westley?

Desiree: Our original scope for the narrative limited the characters to the members of the coven and the other, non-magical villagers, so I was delighted when Amanda and Alex told me we would have the budget for a magical village with four residents. I knew right away that I wanted one of them to be a werewolf and that I wanted him to be a romantic interest for Tara. A bookseller seemed like a natural fit so that he could sell Tara the parchment and incantations she would need for her spellwork, and when Iona drew up some concept art of our nattily dressed Westley we all knew that was the right direction for the character. Once I learned we could support him having both human and wolf forms, that opened up the space to create a little mystery around his first appearance in town, and then we got to dive into his backstory a bit more later in the game.

Q: Do you have a favorite line that you wrote for him?

Desiree: Well, I was expecting players to love Westley, but even I couldn't have anticipated how much of a fan-favorite he would become. I have to say one of my favorite lines is one that only plays if you are partnered with him: "Tara, you're looking ravishing today! Not that I want to, or would, I mean, you know." The actor who plays him, Ray Chase, gave such a hilariously brilliant reading of that line and it makes me giggle every time I hear it! The thirst is real.

Drawing a Werewolf

Questions answered by: Iona Vorster (Concept Artist)

Q: What was the process like for designing Westley? How did you incorporate his personality and backstory into his design? Iona: Initially I started with sketching out ideas for all the Ravenwood Hollow characters in tandem. I wanted to make sure they would sit well together, and since they are all (mostly) fae, I wanted to make sure they felt consistent across their designs while figuring out “what do the fae look like in the world of Wylde Flowers.” Once I had a good idea of what they’d generally look like, I took each character one by one to work out the specifics.

With Westley, the process was a bit more complicated because I also had to figure out what his werewolf anatomy would be like and how far we wanted to push it. Since Westley is a romanceable character, I wanted his werewolf form to still feel personable and able to emote like the rest of the characters, so going very wolf-like with his design didn’t feel like the best option!

As with all the characters, I did have a wonderful character background to reference for Westley, written by narrative lead Desiree! A facet of his personality is that he likes dressing well, so along with him being a bookseller, a suit seemed like the natural choice!

Q: Which did you design first, werewolf Westley or human Westley? Did you have to put any considerations into giving him a (relatively) consistent appearance between the two forms? Iona: I started with his human form, since I knew his werewolf form would need R&D on aspects of his anatomy like his face and legs. However, eventually I moved back and forth between the two, because parts of his werewolf form, like his fangs and his fur, informed design decisions on human Westley. I wanted to hint at his werewolf form when he was in human form, and vice versa/

I also wanted to keep consistency in his outfit, especially since there’s the comical details of his suit not quite fitting his massive werewolf frame, which accentuates the differences between the two!

Q: What is your favorite part of Westley's design? Iona: His fangs! Designing all of him was fun, but I love that he has fangs in human form.

Animating a Werewolf

Questions answered by: Mike Taylor (Animator)

Q: What did the collaboration (if any) look like between you, Desiree and Iona? Mike: I wasn't involved very much in the concept of Westley. As with all characters, I was asked for feedback on each concept, but the concepts are always so good, I have very little to add, and Westley was no exception. Soo-Ling (Wylde Flowers’ 3D Artist) and I would discuss his model more and especially the hair, since we knew that was a big part of his design. We would work together to decide how to structure Westley's hair so we could have the most movement as efficiently as possible.

Q: What types of personality bits or other considerations were you trying to showcase in his animations, and how did you achieve them? Mike: Desiree and Elizabeth put together Casting Notes for all the characters, citing specific actors and/or roles that best exemplified the character. I always started there as the basis. For Westley in particular, I know I felt that he should be a little withdrawn and maybe a little brooding. He's an intellectual who has been cursed with being a werewolf, after all. From that I thought his walk - which is the animation that gets the most personality - should be pretty subdued, compared to the other characters, and he should be looking at the ground rather than straight forward. It's subtle, but hopefully reads just a little.

Q: And for Wolf Westley? Mike: For Wolf Westley, the goal was to make him more feral, without going too far. To do this, I added some exaggerated chest breathing to his idle, arched his fingers and turned his hands inwards, then made his walk very 'stompy' to highlight the extra weight he was carrying around.

Giving a Werewolf a Voice

Questions answered by: Ray Chase (Voiceover Artist)

Q: Can you describe the direction you were given when portraying Westley? What types of personality traits, emotions, etc. did you need to convey? Ray: Westley is a really deep character - and one who I was immediately drawn to. Going back through my auditions for this game, it looks like I only chose to audition for him and the reverend! I love how genteel he is - there's a huge part of me that wants to go run my own bookstore in a small village, so I'm playing out my own fantasies when I'm playing him. :D The voice director, Krizia, was a big help in dialing in just the right amount of werewolf into this character. He shouldn't be frightening, but rather be a warm wolfy snuggle.

Q: Westley's fans have become quite passionate From an acting perspective, what do you think is the secret sauce that makes him so appealing? Ray: I'm definitely using my bedroom voice most of the time for this guy. I have heard that it can be...most enticing....

Q: Are there any lines or beats with Westley that stick out to you? Ray: I'm a vegetarian, so it's always quite alarming when I have to do his butcher shop quotes! I can't believe he eats that much meat... But I guess it's better that he buys from a friend than go roaming the woods at night… And that's a wrap! Thank you for reading! Victoria and the Studio Drydock Team Find out more about Wylde Flowers Here

#wylde flowers #westley #cozy games #farming sim #indie games #vgm #voice acting #farming games #nintendo switch

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gvozdoder · 2 months

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sunday (and some lore)

sooo.... i got inspired by yaelokre and their whole forest medieval vibe, i loved it.

aaaand i decided to make an hsr au.

the story takes place in a small village deep in the dark woods. the life there is hard, and the only thing that keeps people from giving up is their belief in ena.

the folks of the village are mostly humans, but there are some halovians too. and they sacrifice halovians to get ena's blessing.

sunday and his sister robin were raised by gopher wood (in this au he's a human and he's the head of the village). while sunday never questioned their religion, robin, on the other hand, was not so sure if she truly believed in ena. "if ena wants us to be happy and live in order, why would she want us dead?" she often questions, only receiving amused stares of the adults. "you're too young, you don't understand it yet" they all say.

and sunday agrees. "i don't understand anything, so i should listen to father and follow his path" he tells himself.

that was until the siblings turned eighteen. on their birthday (they are the same age here) robin was sacrificed by the villagers.

sunday has never been this terrified watching the ritual. as the fragile body of his beloved sister stopped breathing, he felt dread for the first time in his life.

and then he ran. he ran before they could catch him, because he knew that he must be next. he was supposed to go after his sister.

he's a coward. how could he have left his sister there? why didn't he help her? no, no, the ritual shall not be questioned... he should've stayed there. he should've accepted his fate too, so that ena would meet them both in heaven, but... why was he so terrified? isn't that what he was waiting for his whole life?

"it hurts it hurts IT HURTS! BROTHER, RUN!" the screams of his sister are repeating over and over and over-...

and then he hears some noise in the bushes near him. a guy with strange eyes ("must be a demon, surely!") and golden hair appears.

eeehhh.... yeah, this is a sunturine au.

pls give me ideas if you want to, cus i think that sunday's design here is kinda cute, so i want to add more interesting stuff to my au.

#artists on tumblr #fanart #honkai star rail #hsr #digital artist #honkai fanart #hsr sunday #art #sunturine

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leiawritesstories · 14 days

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Stunning

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 7: All Dressed Up @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: flirting, swearing, rich people talk, badly concealed horniness, NSFW content, a few fun little hidden jokes teehee

A/N: hi hello this is technically for tomorrow BUT it's getting posted now because i'm taking the LSAT tomorrow and i'm going to be way too mentally exhausted to function, yayyyyy 😃 also, i might disappear for a little while after the exam, bc i also just started my senior year of college and it's a bit busier than i thought lol. anyway.....enjoy!!! at your own discretion please :)

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If the club was fancy, its VIP lounge was a study in luxury. A pair of black-suited bouncers flanked the door, their dark-shaded eyes constantly scanning the club, scrutinizing each and every person who approached the lounge doors. Rowan handed over the thick square of embossed ivory paper from his tux jacket pocket and nodded amiably at the bouncers as they checked his invitation and waved him in. Conspicuous as he’d felt before, when he was walking through the club in a custom three-piece designer tux, he felt positively unremarkable among the sea of haute couture that thronged the VIP lounge, all of them centered around a tall, elegant woman in a fitted sheath dress of molten gold with a slit that crept dangerously high up her right leg. Her head tipped an inch sideways with the echo of her laughter, and she rested one graceful hand on the forearm of the handsome man she was talking to, crimson-tipped fingernails contrasting sharply with his black jacket.

Aelin Galathynius.

The only daughter of perhaps the most influential voices in Terrasen’s political scene, Aelin filled the spotlight like she was born to it. Which she was. She’d been appearing in front of press cameras and journalists practically since her birth because Evalin Ashryver, the first female secretary of state, had wanted to show the world that a woman could have both a successful high-profile career and a family. Furthermore, her father was Rhoe Galathynius, the deputy prime minister, and he had personally taught his only daughter how to handle the press.

At twenty-nine, Aelin was one of the most recognizable faces in Terrasen, though that was mostly due to her success as a former professional volleyball player and current coach, as well as an incredibly generous philanthropist, rather than her parents’ collective renown. Rowan had known Aelin since high school, had harbored a crush for her practically as long, and since he was also a retired athlete and the head of a foundation that supported talented young athletes whose families couldn’t afford their sports, he often crossed paths with Aelin at events like this one.

She was chatting with Dorian Havilliard, the oldest son of Prime Minister Havilliard and a childhood friend of hers, when Rowan strolled over and nodded cordially at the dark-haired man. “Good to see you again, Havilliard. Do you mind?”

“Not at all!” Dorian air-kissed Aelin’s cheeks. “Whitethorn, good to see you as well. I’ll have my assistant reach out to yours to schedule a proper meeting, yes?” He had recently indicated his interest in sponsoring one of Rowan’s foundation events.

“Sounds perfect.” Rowan shook Dorian’s hand and pretended not to notice as the other man stage-whispered “he’s so hot” to Aelin before he left the two of them alone.

“Rowan.” Aelin’s crimson lips curled into a smile. “What brings you here? I thought you usually avoided these little parties like the plague.”

“I try,” he said dryly. “Unfortunately, there are several key donors here, and my VP practically threatened to strangle me if I didn’t show up and have a drink with them.”

She chuckled and took a delicate sip of the champagne in her hand. “I wasn’t aware I was one of your key donors, Rowan.”

“Maybe I’m using you as a human shield,” he teased.

“I’m afraid I’m more of a spear than a shield,” she said with a wink. “That means I’ll charge at your big scary donors with you if you can work up the balls to ask.”

“Can you blame me for hesitating?” He swiped a glass of champagne from a passing server’s tray and locked his gaze onto Aelin as he took a deep sip. “You look stunning in that dress, Aelin, and I’m afraid that’s all anyone will see.”

“Ah, stop it.” She swatted his arm. “I’ll get their attention, and you’ll capture it like you always do with your cute little big-old-shy-guy smile and blush.” His cheeks heated, and she grinned. “There, you see? One of your usual protests that you ‘don’t do as much as you want to do’ and you’ll have those donors eating from the palm of your hand.”

“I’d like to eat you from the palm of my hand,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “You’re sure?”

“Of course.” She set down her champagne and looped her arm through his. She lowered her voice to a throaty whisper. “And if you want to eat, Whitethorn, all you have to do is ask.”

His pants tightened. He swallowed thickly, forced himself to think about the donors in order to control his traitorous body, and covertly poked Aelin in the ribs. “Quite a naughty thing to say, Aelin.”

She winked lazily at him. “We’re at a club, Rowan. Certain things happen at clubs.”

“Such a brazen woman.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, and his lips just barely brushed her neck. “What kind of things are you thinking about, hmm?”

“Schmoozing with donors, for one.” She laughed softly at his disgruntled expression and brushed a megawatt smile across her face as they approached one of the couples who were frequent donors to his foundation. “Connall, Sorscha, delighted to see you here!”

Connall had been one of Rowan’s teammates, and he’d retired a year before Rowan so he could spend more time with his wife, Sorscha, and their family. “Surprised you made it, old man,” he joked as he clasped hands with Rowan and affectionately thumped him on the back.

“Trust me, we both are,” Rowan deadpanned. “Sorscha, you look lovely as always. How are the little ones?”

“Growing up too damn fast,” Connall sighed.

Sorscha nodded in agreement. “Lyla started walking the other day; I turned around for five seconds and she made it into the other room. I almost had a heart attack.” She laughed. “And Gray has been obsessed with taking care of the garden, except that he doesn’t know the difference between the weeds and the herbs.”

“Little guy brought his mama a fistful of ‘bad weeds’ that were actually dill,” Connall added, snickering. “Oh, and James is doing fantastic at the football camp.”

Rowan smiled. “That’s amazing! How is it having him stay with you?” One of the projects he was trying to start involved pro athletes having orphans and foster kids stay with them when they participated in training camps for their sports.

“We love it.” Con grinned down at his wife. “He’s still a little shy with the kids and he basically lives out of his duffle bag, but he’s a lot more talkative now.”

“He seems more at ease,” Sorscha said. “It could be that he’s made friends at the camp, or that my son pretty much idolizes him because he’s a big boy who plays sports, but I think he’s also just more… comfortable.”

“That’s almost exactly what we were hoping would happen.” Rowan squeezed Aelin’s hand, and she beamed up at him. “Good. Well, I hope this helps convince the board.”

Con thumped Rowan’s shoulder. “We’re in your corner, man. I’d be happy to tell the board about our success if you need.”

“I just might take you up on that.” Rowan shook Con’s hand and accepted Sorscha’s hug. “Thank you so much.”

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Aelin teased as they walked away, heading for another donor that Rowan had spotted. “You’re a natural—just get them talking about how much they want to help these kids or how much they love what they’re already doing, and they’ll give you their support.”

His hand slid to her lower back, guiding her through the throngs of people. “Wish I had half as much confidence as you have, Ae.”

“Stop that,” she chided. “Rowan, your foundation is hugely successful because of you. That much is evident, and I’ll keep trying to convince you of that until you accept it.”

“I know a few ways you could convince me,” he murmured, half to himself.

Her smile melted into lazy dangerousness, and sparks kindled behind her stunning turquoise eyes. “Do you, now?”

His hand curled possessively around her hip. “I do.” Heat raced through her blood at the weight of his touch. “Dance with me.”

“Of course.”

They stepped into the swirl of couples dancing in the middle of the lounge, and Aelin gasped quietly when Rowan pulled her so close that she was almost flush against him, wrapping one arm around her waist with his hand on her hip and lacing his free hand with hers. So close she could feel the thrum of his heartbeat, she draped her free arm around his neck, fingers toying with the collar of his pressed black shirt. The song changed, shifting to a deep, pounding bass and sultry vocals, and her body moved in near-perfect tandem with his as he led her through the dance.

“All that hockey training certainly gave you good moves, Ro,” she teased, flicking her gaze up to his through her lashes.

He smirked languidly and rotated his hips in a borderline lustful circle. “And all your volleyball training probably gave you strong legs.” He tipped his head down and purred his next words into her ear. “But how long until they start shaking?”

“Dream on, hockey boy,” she whispered, even as desire uncoiled between her legs at the sinful rasp of his voice.

“Every night.” Her breath caught at the admission in those words, and when he brushed a thumb across her lips, she leaned into the touch. Her nod was confirmation enough, and he replaced his thumb with his lips, kissing her softly at first and then deeper, slower, the stroke of his tongue almost too slow for the heat pounding in her blood.

In a hazy blur, they were in the club’s bathroom, Aelin sucking in a sharp breath as Rowan yanked her dress up around her waist and planted her bare ass on the marble countertop. He chuckled, a low dark gravelly rasp that curled up her spine like smoke, as his eyes traced down her body and discovered her lack of underwear. “Dangerous move, darling,” he murmured, attaching his lips to her neck and pressing his calloused thumb directly onto her clit. “No panties? Anyone could see you, Aelin.”

“Anyone—ahh, Rowan!—isn’t going to see,” she panted, her words broken up with gasps and hitched breaths. “Just…fuck, just you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Free hand reaching down the front of her dress to tease her hardened nipples, he thrust three fingers into her, reveling in her broken moan and the way her eyes scrunched shut in pain-edged bliss. “Hold still for me, pretty girl.” Wordlessly, she nodded, bracing her hands on the countertop to stabilize herself. He smirked and kissed her hard, swallowing her moans, and pumped his fingers roughly, bringing her to her first orgasm of the night within a few minutes. He worked her through the high, teasing her sensitive clit just enough to make her whimper when he withdrew his glistening fingers and licked them clean, gaze locked on her the whole time.

“Please, Ro.” She whispered his name, her plea a raspy breath. “Need you to fill me up.”

“Good girl.” He pushed his trousers and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, and her eyes went wide and dark as she stared at his size.

“Th-that…” Her mouth went dry. “That’s not going to fit.”

He brushed his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. “It will, pretty girl. Trust me, it will.” He pushed one of her dress straps off her shoulder and palmed her breast. “Your pretty pussy took my fingers so well, Ae, getting all ready for my dick.”

Her breath escaped in a shuddering groan. “How is it so hot when you say filthy things like that?”

“Because you’re my dirty little good girl.” He smirked and tilted her chin up to brush a bare feather of a kiss over her smudged lipstick. “Can you stay quiet for me?” She nodded, and he kissed her as he dipped his fingers into her cunt again, working her in long slow strokes. When she wrapped her hand around his wrist and whispered that she was ready, he lined his cock up and pushed into her slowly, savoring the tight grip of her pussy around his dick and the muffled whimpers she made as she struggled to stay quiet while accommodating the size of his velvet steel schlong.

“Rowan,” she choked out, near desperate. “Please!”

“Good fucking girl,” he groaned, and he rocked into the cradle of her hips, thrusting with increasing force. Gripping her waist, he pinned her to the counter and fucked her hard, and she buried her face in his shoulder to muffle the uncontrollable moans that tore from her throat. The soap dish clattered to the floor, and he just kicked it underneath the sink and thrust harder, hurtling them both towards climax. Aelin tipped her head back and rasped out his name as she came, ecstasy written all over her features, and he groaned her name as he came inside of her. As their bodies stilled, he gently pulled out, smirking at the sight of his rowillymilk dripping down her legs.

She trailed a finger between her thighs and lifted it to her lips, licking their cum off and humming softly in pleasure. “Delicious.”

He growled and pulled his pants back up and lifted her off the counter, stopping to fix her dress before he laced his fingers with hers and led her out of the bathroom and back through the flashing strobe lights of the lounge and out a side door. “Your place or mine?”

“Mine.” She flicked a heated glance at him from under her darkened lashes. “Got a few toys I like to use in my bedroom.”

“Get in the car.” Rowan pulled the passenger door of a sleek black SUV open with more force than strictly necessary, the muscled lines of his body tense, the gleam of his eyes predatory. Aelin touched the smudged lipstick at the corner of her mouth, wiping it away as she slid gracefully into the car. He closed the door and went around to the driver’s side, and she sucked in a half-surprised, half-aroused gasp when he accelerated down the dark, empty city streets with a hand splayed on her thigh. Heat pulsed between her legs, radiating outward from the warm, firm weight of his palm atop her leg.

She at least had enough of her wits to direct him towards her townhouse. “Turn left here,” she directed, guiding him down the familiar path to her home. “First right, then second right.” He navigated the turns with expert precision, and it was only minutes before he’d pulled into the single parking space marked out in front of her property.

A sudden, thick silence blanketed the vehicle, and Aelin had the urge to caress Rowan’s face when she caught sight of the faint uncertainty nearly buried in his fiery gaze. So she did, gently tracing her fingertips across his cheekbones. “Welcome to my home, Ro.” She winked lazily. “Want me to show you my bedroom?”

His lingering hesitation melted into molten, commanding desire. “That’s my good girl.” The praise flowed over her like sunlight. “Can you get out of the car, Ae, or do you need to be carried?”

“Someone has a high opinion of himself.” She clicked her tongue and smoothly climbed out of the car. He prowled around from the driver’s side, banded one thickly muscled arm around her waist, and pressed her back against the door.

“Still so naughty,” he murmured. “What should we do about that, hmm?”

“Why don’t you come inside and show me?” she whispered right back.

He kissed her, and it would have been sweet if not for the cum sticking to her thighs. “Good girl.” Hand in her hand, he followed her into her townhouse, locked the front door behind them, and waited all of twenty seconds for her to drop her small purse before he hauled her over his shoulder and stormed up the stairs. She managed to point him towards her bedroom door, and he set her onto her bed with uncharacteristic gentleness.

And tore her dress down the middle.

She was halfway through an outraged gasp when he yanked her hips to the edge of the mattress, dropped to his knees, and licked her dripping pussy. Her outrage kindled into lust, and she plunged her fingers into his hair, shoving him closer as his tongue drew harsh patterns on her needy clit. Through the incoherent, garbled whimpers and moans streaming from her throat, she managed to reach sideways and grab her wand vibrator from her bedside table and switch the toy on before tracing the buzzing tip around her stiff, aching nipples.

“What,” Rowan growled, “do you think you’re doing, hmm?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just took the vibrator from her and replaced his tongue with the toy, teasing her cunt with too-light touches and biting kisses, ignoring her breasts altogether. “Did I say you could touch yourself, Ae?”

“N–no, sir,” she whispered. Calling him sir had been impulsive, but it felt so right.

He swore filthily and shoved his pants off, letting his massive meat pole spring free. “That’s correct. Now be a good girl and put your hands above your head.” The vibrator skimmed her throbbing pussy and dipped farther back, circling the rim of her ass, and her fists curled into the pillows above her head as words failed her. He seemed pleased with her obedience, because he kept the toy there as he returned his mouth to her cunt and devoured her, tongue spearing into her and teeth scraping her most sensitive parts. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes before stars exploded across her vision as she came so hard she shook with the force of it.

He turned off the vibrator, threw it across the floor, stripped out of the rest of his clothes, and hauled her up the bed, kissing and nipping up her body as he went. “Don’t hold back,” she breathed, the words shaky from the last waves of her orgasm but no less confident.

“Scream for me, pretty girl,” was all he said in response, and he flipped them over and pulled her down onto his cock. She was so wet that her cunt slid down effortlessly, and he didn’t give her any time to adjust before he lifted her hips up and down, helping her ride his dick at a frenetic pace. “Fuck, Aelin!”

“Fuck, Rowan!” she screamed in tandem, head falling back in bliss. He sat up, deepening the angle, and fucked her relentlessly, until she was a mess of broken cries of his name.

“Come with me,” he ordered, and he pinched her clit sharply. She screamed his name to the gods as she shattered, and he came with her, burying himself deep. He rocked his hips gently as she shook, working her through every last second of the drawn-out orgasm, milking his own pleasure. As she calmed and rolled off of him, sprawled onto her stomach, he ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing the mussed strands. “So fuckin’ good, Fireheart.”

She turned onto her side and grinned, linking her fingers with his. “Happy anniversary, my love. Should we do that again next year?”

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

#my writing #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinmonth2024 #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fun times teeheehee #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass au #rowaelin au #rowaelin modern au

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surrogate-fawn · 11 months

Note

Im a fan of #7.

Nesting (Werewolf AU)

Prompt: "The baby feels so low" [Also inspired by @hush-writes-preg's "Spooky Season Day #3" prompt. He can consider this an early birthday gift as well!]

Characters: Fawn, Newt/Asher - Pre-Polly Relationship ((Newt is owned by @mittysins, and Asher is owned by @killer-orca-cosplay.))

Context: This takes place in a modern world where werewolves are common amidst human society. Fawn is a packless Beta who is about to give birth to her ex-mate's pup. Newt, an Omega, and Asher, an Alpha, are a mated pair who took Fawn into their home -- despite the fact they're expecting a pup of their own in a few months. The three have formed a close friendship, though Fawn still feels like an outsider. After all, she was human only a year ago.

Disclaimer: This fic contains lore for my, Mitty's, and Orca's werewolf AU -- be forewarned there will be worldbuilding mixed in with the kink stuff. If story-heavy kink is your kind of thing -- like it is for us three -- enjoy!

TW: A/B/O dynamics, but within the context of a werewolf society; mentions of past abuse, werewolf-related birth troubles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Smoky whisps of incense scented the room with lavender. The shades were drawn over the windows to block the fading sun. Golden fairy lights twinkled in the gossamer curtains woven through the support beams of the nesting tent, the only dots of light in the dark room.

The nylon pop-up tent was specially designed for those who were nesting. It clung to the baseboard and covered the entire bed in a snug, arched shelter. It could be zipped or unzipped in sections to create windows and doors as needed, or it could be shut tight for total privacy. The interior of the tent was stuffed full of jumbo-sized Squishmallow plushies, three oversized duvet covers, and one very pregnant werewolf.

"How you doing, Mama?" the mop-haired Alpha sitting bedside asked.

Fawn's pointed ear flicked in the direction of his voice in acknowledgement before she opened her eyes. She lay curled around a giant fox pillow, the soft material supporting her belly as she lay dozing in the tent. She had opened a section of the tent by the headboard so she could leave the nest if she wanted, but at the moment she didn't feel safe anywhere else.

"I've been better," she said, her voice lagging with fatigue.

A dewy layer of sweat clung to her whole body. Her clothing was shed to the bedroom floor, save for a black tank top and pair of boyshorts. The air around her was temperate, but her body burned with a mild fever. Her muscles felt heavy and useless, tired from months of carrying her pregnancy whilst fighting the tremors of rejection sickness. The worst of it had passed over time; but here she was, still feeling the effects of breaking her pair bond almost ten months later.

Oh, and being in labor for the last nine hours was not helping the situation.

The soft click of the door handle caught their attention. The pair of cryptids lifted their heads to look as it opened, the hallway light reflecting green in the mirrors of their eyes.

Newt's familiar scent -- much stronger than his mate's -- overpowered the lavender as he entered the room. Fawn's sinuses tingled with the spicy-sweet aroma of his smell, comparable to sassafras, that indicated his pregnancy as much as the grapefruit-sized swell of his lower belly. Fawn still struggled to describe the scents that were new to her.

The Omega approached her nest and held out the glass of tap water he'd been sent to fetch. Fawn craned her neck and lapped from it, her mouth too parched to obey her command. Her tongue was longer than it had once been, able to bring water to her throat as easily as any straw. She didn't pause to wrap her lips around the edge of the glass until her thirst was mostly quenched.

"Jeez, don't drown," Newt chuckled as Fawn took the drink from his hand.

Asher, the Alpha, got up from his seat and offered it to his mate with a nod of his head.

Fawn gulped down the last of the water and came up panting for air. "Don't tell me what to do," she retorted with a tired, playful grin.

"Don't tell her what to do, babe," Asher said, unable to disguise the smirk on his face as he set the empty glass on the bedside table.

The three shared a brief, quiet laugh.

Fawn's eyelids drifted closed as the room settled back into silence. She shimmied herself deeper into her pile of softness, falling easily into a twilight sleep; at least, for a few more minutes.

A huff of air left Fawn's nose a split second before her brow creased in discomfort. "Ash, start it," she said, curling tighter around her pillow.

"Yes, ma'am." Asher fumbled to unlock his phone and started the timer on his stopwatch app. "Started."

Fawn filled her lungs with air with one long breath and released it as a drawn-out exhale. The contraction coiled itself around her hips and squeezed, growing tighter by the second. The pain grew like a stinging vine around her belly, her ribs, her back, even wrapping around her upper thighs.

With a low groan, Fawn rolled herself onto her back. Her legs fell open at a wider angle than normal -- a sign her hips were loosening in preparation for her large pup to come through. She continued her ritual of slow, deliberate breathing as the contraction continued to climb to its dreaded peak.

Newt leaned into the opening in the tent, enough for him to run a gentle hand over the clammy skin of Fawn's arm. He didn't say anything, but his touch brought her a sense of ease. Even knowing that Asher was in the room, even if she couldn't see him, made her feel better. They'd only known each other a month, but she couldn't imagine surviving labor without them.

Fawn flashed her fangs in a snarl as the contraction reached its apex, the part she dreaded each time. "Ugh!" she growled through her teeth, her head pressed back into the pillow.

Newt's eyes widened when Fawn hooked her hands beneath her knees, drawing her legs up on either side of her belly. "Are you pushing already?"

"She's what?!" Asher gasped in alarm, his face appearing over his mate's shoulder.

"No!" Fawn growled, hardly able to breathe enough to speak. "My legs are about to fuckin' dislocate!"

She could feel the pup pressing its way out, prying open the flesh of her cervix as her womb squeezed it down. The pressure sent stabbing waves of agony between her legs. Her birth canal opened a little more with each millimeter the pup dropped, and now it was putting unbearable pressure on the ball-socket joints of her pelvis.

Fawn grunted in relief as the contraction ebbed. She released her legs, draping them wide apart over her plushies. Thankfully, Newt and Asher's guest bed was queen-sized and allowed her plenty of space to spread out.

"It's done," she announced, so Asher could stop the timer.

"Ooh, getting close," Asher said. "That one was thirty-eight seconds."

Even that short burst of work sent drops of sweat rolling down Fawn's sides. She pulled her tank top over the curve of her belly and tucked the fabric under her swollen breasts. She caressed the sore underside of her bump in long, soothing circles. The skin around her womb was pulled smooth as glass from the weight of the pup inside. She could feel where its surface was gouged by deep, purple stretch marks. Her pup wriggled impatiently beneath her hands, as if able to sense her touch through the thinness of the skin.

"Call me crazy," she said, "but I'm hoping this baby takes its time. It might rip me apart if it tries to break the speed record."

Asher checked the recorded times in his phone. "You'll be fine, it doesn't look like they're in a hurry," he said. "Just stay relaxed and the pup will keep working its way down."

Fawn gave a thumbs-up. "Copy that, Sarge."

"So, guys, are we taking bets?" Newt asked, resting his upper torso inside the tent.

Fawn tilted her head to peer up at him from inside the canyon of her pillow plushie. "On what?"

"Boy or girl," Newt grinned. He propped his chin up on his hand and beamed down at the redheaded wolf woman. "Should we take bets?"

"You boys can if you want," Fawn said.

"Just you versus me, babe," Asher chuckled from somewhere else in the room. "Fawn already knows, that would be cheating."

"No, I don't," Fawn said, quiet and matter-of-fact. She turned her eyes to the little golden lights twinkling over her head. "I didn't know if a doctor would make me contact my mate, so I never went to one."

At the mention of him, the mating scar at the nape of Fawn's neck became hot. She grimaced, able to feel each small wound his teeth had left when he'd inflicted her with the curse of the wolves. It wasn't as strong of a reaction anymore; the pain had at one point been overwhelming.

When she'd taken that first step out of the apartment with the intention to never come back, the mark had burned so intensely she thought she could smell her flesh searing. She was lucky Todd hadn't been home, because he'd no doubt felt the same sensation on the back of his neck -- where he had forced her to mark him as her mate as well. Had he been home, Fawn wouldn't have made it out of the building before he'd realized what she was doing.

"Besides," Fawn added, "I have no idea if I should go to a doctor or a vet now." Her freckled face paled, and she looked back up at Newt. "Shit, is that offensive?"

Newt laughed and leaned in to rub his cheek against her forehead. "Nah."

Fawn smiled as he brushed against her, leaving a bit of his spicy-sweet scent on her skin. She was still adjusting to perceiving the world through scent as much as sight and touch, but she grew more comfortable with it each time the pair scented her. Scent was transforming into language the more she utilized it. Maybe she wasn't sure how to communicate with it, yet; but there was something about it she was starting to understand.

"We'll show you the ropes once you're over the rejection sickness," Asher said, leaning against the nightstand so he could peer into the nest. "So . . . this guy didn't explain any of our lifestyle to you?"

Fawn shook her head. "Not anything us hum-," she paused, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Not anything humans don't already know. Transformation and full moon stuff, basically. He had me sell my silver jewelry before he'd even kiss me. I didn't know werewolves were that sensitive to it."

The boys shared a concerned look.

"Um," Asher cleared his throat, "we aren't. Silver allergies are rare as hell. A few poor bastards had a fatal reaction hundreds of years ago, and humans assumed it was a rule for all of us."

"Good old stereotyping," Newt said.

The lines in Fawn's brow deepened. "That piece of dogshit," she muttered under her breath. "I sold my grandma's pendant for him!"

Goddammit! Why hadn't she thought twice about Todd suddenly needing to "borrow" that money?! Her mating scar throbbed, seeping heat like an open wound where their pair bond had once been. A fresh sweat dampened her brow.

Newt brushed a few stray curls from Fawn's eyes and tucked them behind the point of her ear. "Fuck him. He's a dick."

"Yeah, fuck him," Asher agreed with a frown. His ear twitched as his scowl deepened, knocking his glasses askew. "Alphas are supposed to protect our mates, not take advantage of them."

There was a brief pause. Asher took off his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, and added: "For what it's worth, Fawn . . . I'm sorry on his behalf."

"Me, too," Newt nodded. "Not as an Alpha, but as a wolf."

Fawn sighed and draped an arm over her eyes. "Thank you for that, boys. It helps . . . at least a little."

She felt like the world's biggest idiot.

When they'd met, she'd been seduced by Todd's hyper-masculine physique and charmed by his overly protective "doting". How special she'd felt, having an Alpha werewolf want her -- an average human woman -- as his mate. In hindsight, being an average human woman was exactly what made him want her. Easy prey.

How quickly she'd regretted her decision to let Todd put her in a mating press. After she'd endured the weeks it took for her anatomy to shift into that of his kind, Todd had convinced her they needed to breed as soon as possible. He wanted a large pack, as many pups as she could give him. It didn't take her long to realize they were the only reason he'd claimed her. Days after leaving him, she'd detected the strange smell of sassafras on her skin -- though she wouldn't know what that meant for two months.

The rejection sickness had masked any symptoms of a pregnancy. The effects were like that of withdrawal: fevers high enough to cause delirium, tremors, nausea, and full-body aches. She'd spent endless days and nights confined to the bed of a sleazy motel room. What carried her through was the knowledge that Todd was feeling just as shitty as she was. Yet, in her darkest moments, Fawn considered going back to him just to make it stop.

Then, her world changed when a fellow wolf woman at the drugstore offered congratulations based on her scent. This prompted her to buy a pregnancy test, and the thought of going back never crossed her mind again.

"Fellas?" Fawn asked, still blindfolding herself with her forearm. "Is a large pack, like . . . a status symbol for y'all or something?"

Asher shrugged. "Not as much as it used to be," he said. "It used to be a big deal in the past, like before we had the treaty with humans. That was because our packs needed the numbers for defense. But now? Not as much."

"Except maybe for those freakishly traditional families," Newt chimed in.

"Mmm," Fawn hummed in acknowledgement. She placed her other hand on the upper swell of her belly and gave it a thoughtful rub. "Well, this baby is mine. I'm not giving birth for the sake of some insecure asshole. This is my baby."

"Damn right it is," Newt grinned, his blue eyes glittering in the low light.

After a few seconds of silence, Fawn's limp-hanging hand curled into a fist. "Mmm, Ash . . . " Her voice trailed off into a chesty groan.

Newt looked over at his mate. "Ash, start it."

Asher pulled out his phone with a nod. "Starting."

Newt massaged Fawn's shoulder as she once again pulled back her legs. The pressure in her hips was immense, and the contraction was heaving the baby down with unholy force. Fawn pulled harder on her knees until she felt her pelvis widen, the bones drifting apart like tectonic plates.

"Breathe, Fawn," Newt gently reminded. "You're holding it."

Fawn hissed out her breath like a deflating tire. "God, it's coming down," she groaned. She shut her eyes and whined as the pup pressed harder against her cervix.

"Change position," Asher offered, bending down to see inside the nest. "Let gravity help you out."

Fawn released a high-pitched whimper. "My hips . . . my hips hurt."

"Here, hold on." Newt reached around Fawn and pulled out another of her oversized Squishmallows from the pile. He left his chair and climbed onto the bed, crawling through the opening of the tent with the plushie in-hand. "Sit up, love."

Fawn reluctantly let her legs fall. Her bones were lead. With Newt's help, she got to her knees and straddled herself atop the large pillow plushie so her hips could remain open.

"There, that's better!" Asher said, sitting on the edge of the mattress. His phone screen reflected in his lenses, revealing the contraction had lasted twenty seconds already.

Fawn bent forward onto all-fours, rhythmically dipping her hips into the pillow as the pain climbed higher than it had before. The Omega at her side dug the heel of his hand into her lower back, allowing Fawn to rock back against the counter-pressure. Her deep breathing wavered, each inhale growing shallower until the wolf woman was full-on panting.

"Calm down, you're doing fine," Newt lulled, ghosting his claws over her spine. "Deep breaths, like you were doing."

Sweat appeared in shining beads on Fawn's reddened face, dampening the frizzy curls around her temples. "I can't," she gasped. All four limbs trembled, fatigued muscles giving up the last of their strength. "I can't . . . I need to lie down."

Fawn sank chest-first into the fox plushie, arms unable to support her weight. Her tongue dipped in and out of her mouth as she failed to control of her breathing. Her fingers sank into the duvet, claws tearing holes in the fabric.

The end of the tent unzipped, creating an arch-shaped door that Asher climbed in through. While Newt continued to knead Fawn's back, Asher laid himself beside her.

"Hey, Mama, look at me," he crooned, his face appearing in the corner of her vision. When her hazel eyes met his, he said: "You are owning this! There's no need to get freaked out. You're too tough for labor to beat. Take a deep breath for us, alright?"

Fawn wet her lips and maintained eye contact with the Alpha while she drew in a big breath.

"Good!" Asher smiled, patting her shoulder. "Now let it out and make the next one even deeper. Show that pain who's boss!"

She obeyed, but mid-inhale she choked on air. With a canid yowl, Fawn pressed herself against the Alpha's body. Her hips ground against the pillow, as if it would cushion the force of her pelvis being forced apart.

"Ugh, gravity's helping too much!" Fawn moaned into Asher's shirt. "This pup is about to fall outta me!"

"That's a good thing!" Asher encouraged, draping his arm over her and motioning for his mate to lie down beside them. "You're making progress. The pup will be here before you know it!"

Fawn's hips finally settled as the contraction eased off, but she still felt unable to move. Her pelvis sat wide open, and the hefty weight of the pup was sinking deep inside it -- even without the contraction.

“Augh, fuck,” she moaned, the sound rumbling in her chest. “Fuck . . . the baby feels low. It feels so fucking low!"

"Ash?" Newt asked as he rearranged the pillows to better support the three of them. "Are you still timing?"

Asher caressed Fawn's thigh as she shifted to support her upper body against the mountain of Squishmallows Newt had piled up. Newt reclined on his side beside her, flashing her a bright smile -- his fangs always hung over his lower lip when he smiled.

"No, I think we're just feeling it out now," Asher said. He'd left his phone charging on the nightstand, just in case they needed it. "I think we're 'reaching a checkpoint' as it were."

Newt rolled his eyes. "Gamers."

Fawn snuggled into the pillow mountain, trying in vain to get comfortable. It wasn't as dramatic as what they showed on television, but Fawn knew exactly what the hot rush of fluid was as it soaked the pillow between her legs.

"Umm, hey . . ." She nudged the pillow aside, revealing ribbons of cloudy water running down her inner thighs. "I think it's time to lose the shorts."

Asher pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "And checkpoint reached!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For five hours, no one left that tent. The room grew darker as the evening gave way to the early morning hours of pre-dawn. The boys stayed at either side of the laboring wolf woman, holding her steady in positions that allowed her pup to ease down with gravity.

Between contractions, the three werewolves lay side-by-side in tranquil silence. The sweat on Fawn's brow would dry, her feverish body would cool, but the warmth of two other bodies prevented the chills from returning. That quiet peace would be broken when Fawn vocalized during a new contraction, signaling the boys to sit her up and widen her stance.

Fawn was growing restless, wanting to switch positions several times during every contraction: squatting against the headboard, kneeling against one guy or the other, or falling into a half-squat in a pile of her plush pillows. The longer the night wore on, the more fidgety the laboring mother became.

At around four in the morning, as the trio rested together beneath the fairy lights, Fawn suddenly spoke:

"Is the cradle ready?"

"Hmm?" Asher sat up and readjusted his glasses.

"Is the cradle ready?" Fawn repeated. There was a glint of urgency in her eyes, although her tone was soft and even.

The fold-out mesh bassinet was visible from inside the nest, placed against the opposite wall. The pup's first outfit was already laid out atop the blanket lining the mattress -- a cotton quilt with embroidered rubber duckies that Newt had donated from the stash he was buying for his own pup.

After a quick glance, Asher responded: "Yep, it's ready and waiting."

"Can you grab some extra blankets or something?" Fawn pleaded. She gradually drew her legs up until her heels touched the underside of her thighs. "Just anything that's soft."

Newt sat himself up and gave his mate a knowing look. "Babe? You think this is that 'final nesting' the baby books talked about?"

Asher's eyes widened. "Oh, crap. It might be."

"What?" Fawn asked. She suddenly realized she couldn't remember what either of the boys had just said -- she wasn't fully aware of what was going on around her. It was so, so hard to focus on anything other than the pounding pressure that had come to rest in the curve of her tailbone.

The mated pair gave each other a nod.

"Ash and I have been reading books about pups like crazy this month," Newt explained in a lighthearted tone. "'Final nesting' is just what your brain does right before the pup is ready to come out."

Asher grabbed the corner of the topmost duvet and rolled it towards them until it became a padded cushion. He carefully slid it beneath Fawn and said: "Yep, it's an instinct. Got to make sure the pup has a safe place to land, you know."

Now it was Fawn's turn to go wide-eyed. "Wait . . . wait, is it happening?" she gasped, her head shooting up off the pillows.

"Maybe," Newt said. "You'll know if it is." He placed a pillow over his torso to protect his belly and scooted behind Fawn to support her into a squat.

"And if it isn't, then we'll just wait some more," Asher concluded. "Don't try to bear down if you don't need to."

Fawn nodded, gulping down the dryness in her throat. She had no idea what to expect with the next contraction. If the monstrous pressure she was feeling hadn't triggered her body to push by then . . . oh, God above, what was about to happen to her?

"I don't . . . don't know if I'm ready for this," she muttered.

Newt leaned in and rubbed his cheek against the side of her neck. "You're as ready as you'll ever be," he said. He intertwined his clawed fingers with her own.

Fawn didn't feel the next contraction as pain, only as a familiar tightness wrapping around her womb. All other sensation was snuffed out . . . massacred . . . left bleeding in the streets! . . . by the wicked downward thrust of her pup moving through her effaced cervix. There was nothing holding that baby in her womb any longer, and it was not waiting another minute to leave.

"Oh, my God!" she screamed -- out of fear more so than pain. Her hips jerked back, trying to escape the demonic pressure burning inside.

Newt squeezed her hands -- his claws never marking her skin. "You feel it?"

"Yes!" Fawn cried, her body shuddering under the hellish urge to push.

"Go with it," Asher encouraged, placing his hand on her knee. "Let's meet your pup."

Fawn held her breath and gave a shallow, hesitant first push. She wasn't sure if she was using the correct muscles, but it felt . . . how could she describe it? . . . it felt like she was doing something. A few seconds of strain later, she let up with a sharp yelp. Yes, she'd been doing it right. That slight nudge had sent the pup rushing forward.

"It's moving . . ." was all she had time to say before her body demanded she continue her efforts -- and double them!

Those few millimeters of progress kicked her urge to push into overdrive. Fawn braced her weight against Newt, put chin to chest, and bore down with every ounce of force she could. The crown of the head pressed deeper against her innermost walls with a fiery, thorny tug. The sensation of her baby moving through her after so many passive hours of labor was startling -- yet beyond rewarding.

Had her eyes been open to see, Fawn would have observed Asher's tender smile as he watched primal focus harden her features.

"Just like that, Mama," Asher praised, again stroking her thigh. "Don't hold back, give it your all!"

Sweat trailed down her flushed skin. Unable to hold the push any longer, Fawn emptied her lungs with a harsh grunt.

"It's already hurting me," she growled through closed fangs. Her voice strained as, for just a few horrible seconds, she resisted the urge to push. "Goddamn, this is gonna suck!"

Newt laid his chin on Fawn's shoulder as she sank into another deep push. "Whatever you feel, don't fight it," he offered evenly. "Your body knows what it's doing, Fawn. Listen to what it's telling you to do."

Fawn's ears pressed back against her head as her hips dipped lower to the duvet. She felt a small trickle of fluid drip from her labia, but the flow stopped as soon as she stopped pushing. A groan escaped the back of her throat as the contraction eased off and she was able to relax.

"That was great," Newt praised, unlacing their fingers and letting Fawn have her hands back. "You got the hang of it right off the bat."

Fawn sighed and balled the duvet beneath them in her claws. Her chest rose and fell quickly, and her pulse hammered in her neck. Any sense of physical comfort was gone now, even between contractions. She knew there would be no peace for her until this pup was out and in her arms . . . but God only knew when that would happen. God only knew if that would happen! The pup was barely inside her birth canal and Fawn was already terrified that it was going to get stuck.

"What if . . . what if I can't get it out?" she panted. Her lower back was screaming, so she shifted her hips forward. It didn't help. "What do we do if I can't get it out?!"

"Hey, hey, don't think like that," Newt helped Fawn recline a bit further against him. He steadied her in his arms, his hands gently massaging the curves where her belly met her ribcage. "There's no doubt in our minds that you can do this!"

"And I'm down here if you need a little extra help," Asher said. He carefully took Fawn's leg and draped it over his lap, helping to open her hips now that she was in a more reclined position. "We won't let anything happen to you or your pup, Fawn. That's a promise."

"You're safe here," Newt said in a low, soothing tone. He continued to apply soft pressure to her sides and back, kneading over her sore body as if smoothing out a delicate fabric.

Fawn never doubted for a second that she was in loving hands. She dreaded to think where she would be right now if the pair hadn't opened their home to her. Without their kindness, chances were that she'd be delivering her baby in a motel bathroom or on top of a cot in a homeless shelter. These two had given her the ultimate gift: a warm, safe place to give birth. She owed her pup's life to them.

"I know," Fawn said, snuggling down further into the nest. "I don't want to be anywhere else right now."

Newt bent down and pressed a kiss to Fawn's hairline. "Keep listening to your body. Don't rush what it's trying to do."

Fawn nodded, puffing out a breath as she felt the next contraction roll up from her back to her belly. "Okay . . . let's go."

She took in a slow lungful of air, waited for the contraction to build in strength, and pushed.

Her loosened joints spread easily for the pup's skull as it squeezed its way down her passage. It became an endless pattern: Fawn would push, the head would squeeze down, and her pelvic bones would spread over its shape as it passed beneath them. She could feel the rhythm of the changes.

Push. Squeeze. Spread.

Rest.

Push. Squeeze. Spread. Spread.

Rest.

Push. Squeeze. Spread. Spread. Spre-OW!

OW! OW! Oh, fuck! Now it was so too big! Her hips were filled to the maximum, her canal stretched wide around a huge pair of shoulders as they slipped from her womb. She could feel her labia bulging from between her legs -- and oh, God, they ached! There was nothing but a layer of her skin holding the pup in, and it felt like a bubble of gum about to burst!

But she couldn't stop pushing. Not now, not when everything was raw and stretched and open and hurting so goddamn bad! Fawn curled her toes into the mattress and wailed as she threw herself harder into pushing. Her voice grew louder as she felt the inflamed skin between her legs starting to open.

"Good job, Mama! Here it comes!" Asher cried, his voice raised to be heard over Fawn's roar of effort.

Asher had his eyes glued to the pale, wet sac pressing out of Fawn each time her body strained. He'd read in their books that it was common for werewolf pups to be born with their membranes wrapped around them. That was fine, he just had to be prepared to remove it.

A tiny spurt of fluid leaked out from around the sac as the head began to stretch the skin of the perineum. The pup's size seemed to be keeping most of its sac unruptured, the fluid too pressurized to leave the birth canal. Asher furrowed his brow but said nothing.

Of course, Newt took notice of his mate's unease. He swallowed the unease in his chest, and scented Fawn's hair with his cheek again in the hopes it would distract her.

"Ash sees the head," he crooned. "Keep going, you're pushing like a pro!"

With renewed vigor, Fawn gave into her body's needs. Asher waited until a few centimeters of the solid white membrane stretched open Fawn's lips, then he placed his index finger against the bulging sac to gauge how much fluid was inside. He felt the semi-solid squish of the pup's head just beneath the film, but his finger pad felt the swish of water when he pressed down. That wasn't a very good sign, but Asher still felt confident that he could handle it.

"I'm going to help you out a little, okay?" Asher told Fawn, cupping his hand over the crowning pup. "Focus on pushing, and I'll help you open up. I'll go slow."

Newt once again sensed Asher's unease and made it his mission to protect Fawn from sensing it, too. "Pup's almost out, Fawn," he said as he gave her shoulders a brief hug. "It'll be out quicker with Ash helping you. Just take a deep breath and let yourself stretch."

"I'm trying," Fawn whimpered. "I'm trying."

As Fawn bore down against the pup, Asher ran his fingers against the sides of her lips. He nudged her skin open bit by bit around the sac, watching as it stretched from a small oval to a wide circle over the course of several minutes. Asher cringed as he saw the skin of her labia discolor from a raw red to an almost beet purple with the width of the head.

Fawn, meanwhile, had fallen completely taciturn. Aside from wolfish growls and whimpers, she made no efforts to express her pain verbally. Her focus had shifted solely to bearing through the ordeal, working with her body to bring it to a swift end.

"Keep going, we're almost there!" Asher cheered. He had his hands positioned at the apex of her inner thighs, supporting the tight skin as Fawn pushed the head to its widest point.

Fawn shuddered and let her head fall back on Newt's chest. Her mind was a mess of black static as the pup's shoulders ground against her pubic bone. She arched her spine as the pup ceased to move for one heart-stopping moment. Then, in a sudden lurch, the sac-covered head popped free into Asher's waiting hands.

"Awesome! Awesome, Fawn!" Newt cheered, peering over her shoulder as much as he could. He could see the white membrane resting in his mate's palm. "Babe, you got it?"

Asher nodded. "I've got it, don't worry."

Without drawing attention to it, Asher took the claw of his thumb and carefully -- oh-so-carefully -- punctured the membrane at the base of where he felt the pup's neck should be. A quiet sploosh filled the nesting tent as amniotic fluid rushed over Asher's hands. He hooked his claw inside the tear and slowly peeled the sac over the pup's head.

There wasn't much hair on the pup's head -- unusual, though not uncommon -- but that wasn't what Asher was looking for. He craned his neck at a painful angle until he could catch a glimpse of the pup's face. When he saw it, he paled. The features were predictably swollen, but the puffy lips were hanging open and dripping a thick yellowish mucus. Asher thanked the stars above that he and his partner had read up about whelping -- for he was able to recognize the tell-tale symptom of waterlogged lungs.

The mates locked eyes with each other and nothing else needed to be said or done. They both understood.

"This is it, love," Newt said, leaning in to help Fawn hold her legs apart. "This next contraction is going to be the one."

Fawn's jaw gaped like a suffocating fish, but finally her voice obeyed her command: "Is my baby okay?"

Oh, hell. She must've smelled the pheromones of their stress. Newt had been hoping she wouldn't understood what the scent of fear was, yet.

Newt smiled at her and brushed her sweat-plastered hair away from her eyes. "They're fine, they just need some extra help."

"When you push, I'll give them a little tug," Asher said. "It's going to hurt, but it'll be over before you know it."

Fawn squeezed her eyes shut. "Can't hurt any worse than this," she mumbled. "Just do it."

The boys were expecting the horrific scream Fawn released when Asher began guiding out the first shoulder, but it still made their sensitive ears ring.

"You're so strong, Fawn!" Newt said into her ear. He felt her legs trying to close against the pain, and he had to pause to pull them back apart. "I know it hurts, but you're handling it so well! We're so proud of you!"

Asher kept his focus locked on delivering the pup as fast and as safe as possible. One hand supported the pup's body while the other pulled down on the emerging shoulder.

"Come on, little guy," Asher muttered under his breath. "Come on, you can do it."

With an audible pop of Fawn's hip joints -- and another yowl from the wolf woman herself -- the pup's first shoulder slipped free. Asher wasted zero time in hooking his thumb under the tiny arm and continuing his steady, gentle tug.

A rather disgusting squelch accompanied the pup as it slid onto the duvet. The remains of the membrane bunched around its feet as Asher scooped it into his hands. The body was grey and limp, and all three heartbeats stalled.

"What's wrong?!" Fawn cried. "What's wrong with it?!" She reached for her baby on instinct, but Newt held her back.

"It's okay!" he said, adjusting himself to block her veiw of Asher and the baby. "It's okay, I swear! Asher's taking care of it."

Newt stroked her sweaty face with the back of his hand, doing anything he could think of to soothe her. It didn't stop the tears from flooding the exhausted mother's eyes.

Behind his mate's back, Asher brought the pup's face to his lips. His mouth easily covered the nose and mouth of the newborn, and he gently sucked the sour-tasting fluid out of its airway. Asher spit the gunk into his sleeve and repeated the action, rubbing his thumb against the baby's chest as he did.

It was a process that lasted less than twenty seconds, but to all three werewolves it felt like eternity. But eternity ended when the pup sucked in a deep, squeaking breath. The sound of its first cry was shrill, but to the trio it sounded like singing.

Asher couldn't help but start crying as the little body he'd resurrected wiggled to life in his hands. "Here he is!" he said, voice wavering with joyful tears.

Newt sat back immediately, allowing Fawn to see the baby alive and well in Asher's arms.

"Here's our boy!" Asher announced, laying the crying baby over his mother's heart.

Through the haze of her tears, Fawn looked over every detail of her little boy. She saw the layer of damp fuzz covering his skin, the points on his pink, folded-over ears, and the coating of protective skin over his miniscule claws. She thanked whatever power was out there for that last detail, because such tiny needles would've been horrible to feel coming out.

"Sweetheart," she told the baby, wrapping her arms around him, "don't make a habit outta scaring me like that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is he already nursing again?" Newt asked as he placed the glass of water on the nightstand.

"He eats like a horse," Fawn chuckled, adjusting the nursing pillow under her baby. Jacob was the name she had settled on.

The sun was coming up now, filling her bedroom with a soft white light. Asher was on the floor, disassembling the nesting tent. It would be taken out again in a few months for Newt to use, but the Alpha was determined to Tetris the pieces correctly into their box.

Jacob was an aggressive nurser. Three hours old and this was his third time demanding his mother's milk. Newt and Asher insisted such an appetite was normal for a larger werewolf pup, but Fawn wasn't too thrilled to learn she was going to get even less sleep than she anticipated with a new baby.

Fawn quickly drained the glass of water. She wasn't sure if she would ever feel not-thirsty again. "So, Newt," she said, "I didn't scare you into wanting a C-section, did I?"

"Nah, not at all." Newt laid down on the bed beside Fawn, propping himself against the Squishmallow pile. "If you could get him out, I'm pretty sure I'll be okay."

Newt pet the thin strands of hair on Jacob's head. The newborn swiped a clumsy, mitten-covered fist over his head with a teeny-tiny growl. All three adults stopped and stared.

"Was that him?!" Asher asked from the floor.

"Yeah . . ." Newt said, withdrawing his hand. "He's very protective of his food."

Asher almost fell over laughing. "That's Alpha behavior if I've ever seen it!"

"How do you guys even determine that stuff?" Fawn asked. "Is it a sex thing?"

"Eh, a bit," Newt shrugged, "but it's also a personality thing." He tickled the folded tip of Jacob's soft ear, and got the same response as before.

"Ow!" Fawn jerked as her son bit down on her breast. "Stop annoying him, or I'm biting you, too!"

"Sorry," Newt chuckled.

"I can't thank you boys enough for this," Fawn said. "This werewolf shit is all sorts of weird for me, and . . . now I know for certain that Jacob wouldn't have been alright if you weren't with me."

"That's what packs do," Asher said, re-folding a segment of nylon tarp. "We look out for each other."

"Do we even . . . " Fawn stopped herself mid-sentence and looked away.

Newt grinned and touched his forehead to Fawn's temple. "I don't know. What do you think?"

Fawn grinned in return and rubbed her cheek against his hair, leaving her scent on his skin.

#fawn drabbles #mittysins #killer-orca-cosplay #Fawn/Newt/Asher #fpreg labor and birth #labor kink #birth kink #borrowed ocs #fpreg

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