#bond verse

[sysakiddo]

Okay so in this James Bond verse, Daniel is the 007, and he is getting a bit too old to jump from buildings and fuck a new target's wife every week although he is far from ready to quit! BUT then he gets assigned a new Quartermaster.

Daniel can't get over the fact that his new Q still has spots and scoffs in his ear 24/7 and is so bitchy and not reactive to Daniel's banter. When he complains to M about it, Q finds out and tells Daniel, I would of course prefer working with 006 but I am stuck with you. Daniel shudders at the thought of spending more than an hour in the hold of Charles' criminal beauty. So of course Daniel is on a mission to prove himself here! 

He breaks into Q's office on several occasions, each one getting him a scowl and a very controlled speech full of death threats. If you do it again, 007, I won't hesitate to use the new taser pen on you. It has enough power to put you in your crib for a few hours. 

Daniel likes it when Q flirts with him. 

Cue lots of hushed conversations via his comm, trying extra hard to make Q laugh, this honking sound that spooked Daniel the first time it boomed in his ear. 

[insert half cooked plot here]

Cut to two years in, they finally have a lead on a bad guy they've been looking for. Lo and behold, it's a trap and Daniel gets kidnapped!! His Q is freaking out! He heard the kidnapping happen live and couldn't do anything!!! He should have predicted this and protected his agent!! 

So when they finally get a hold of a shitty short video from a security camera, and when Q sees Daniel's pale form, blood dried on his chest and fingers crooked in weird angles, the pit in his stomach is the worst he has ever felt. Or so he thought but THEN. another footage comes in, the same camera angle but without Daniel now and with several other men. The tallest one looks straight into the camera and then the footage turns black. The AI powered tech displays the identity of the man on the screen. Jos Verstappen, it says. Underneath in red, possible connection to: Q. 

Max doesn't see it, already out of the room, vomiting into the bin right in front of M's office. 

more of this

[georgeharrisonsmiling]

While my guitar gently weeps.

[ficsiwanttoreadyesterday]

I just can't today. I genuinely cannot understand girls or women who think it's okay to bully male cosplayers. And all because they're cosplaying from books. When I asked one of them why, it's because apparently men aren't allowed to as it's a predominantly female space. I'm sorry but when the fuck did reading become a female only thing. It's like saying girls can't cosplay as their favourite anime character or their favourite video game character because it's from predominantly male spaces. I'm sorry, but please explain to me how that doesn't just make you a bully.

[valtsv]

silt verses au where they're all monsters trying to convince the others that they're a regular normal human whilst suspecting that everyone else is some kind of freaky entity:

- carpenter - werewolf

- faulkner - vampire

- paige - grim reaper/angel of death

- hayward - actually the only human*

- shrue - banshee

- VAL - ghost

(*for now)

[syndrossi]

I've been reading lots of platonic family and accidental adoption/acquisition stuff lately, so I really have to know, what WOULD Daemon do if Jon and/or Rhaegar brought home a random stray? Be it a stray cat, dog, direwolf, or human? (Or for additional hilarity, an extra baby dragon that is not bonded to either of them but randomly hatched in front of them anyway. Rhaegar obviously couldn't leave it to fend for itself. It's a tiny baby. Even smaller than Qelebrys was when she hatched!)

Daemon lives under the specter of Allard Royce's miserly authoritative figure in the boys' lives, so he's very bad at not giving them their every heart's desire. In the case of a direwolf, however, he would try his best to hold strong (before ultimately failing).

x~x~x

Oh no.

Daemon was no stranger to dread when it came to his sons. Some of it, the unbearable kind, was rooted in the fear of losing them. Other times, it was his children being far too clever by half and knowing that he would pay for it somehow.

This was a new dread entirely, one that seized him by the chest as he stared into their pleading, hopeful faces. You will have to break their hearts.

“That is—” he broke off, studying the furry pup that was so large his sons both had to hold it up—Jon’s arms beneath its chest, and Rhaegar’s beneath its belly, just before the hindquarters. That is no wolf.

“He is a direwolf,” Jon said, his smile turning tearful as the pup licked at his cheek. “And he has lost his pack. He needs a new one.”

How did it even reach Runestone? It was a journey of well over a thousand miles on foot to reach the castle from the North, and from what Daemon had heard, direwolf sightings were already rare, even at the heart of the North, in Winterfell.

Moreover, it was an unusual pup, with pale fur and red eyes that gazed at Daemon with a strange intelligence.

“How will you care for him when we are at King’s Landing?” Daemon asked, only to realize by the sudden brightening of his sons’ faces that he had already lost.

“We can make a sling for Caraxes’s saddlebags and strap him to it,” Rhaegar said with a confidence that told him his son had already thought of it. “He can ride below or alongside, depending on which is more comfortable.”

“The king will never allow a direwolf in the holdfast,” Daemon said weakly, but although that would have been true of his grandfather, Viserys was another story entirely.

Jon dismissed his bluff with a shake of his head. “We shall convince him.”

“What do you intend with a direwolf?” he demanded. “Such beasts are not meant to be mere pets, no more than a dragon is.”

“He would not be a pet,” Jon said, looking almost offended. “He would be—a protector. One who can follow us where a Princesguard wouldn’t. Like our dragons did, when they were little.”

His sons’ hatchlings still believed themselves to be little, of course, and had been heartbroken when they had finally been barred from following their riders into the holdfast. The last time Qelebrys had tried to sit on Daemon’s shoulder, she had ended up sitting on him, heavy as a grown man.

Perhaps his sons merely missed those early days, when they had been able to enjoy that closeness with their dragons. Perhaps he should have considered the possibility and tried to find them a kitten to fill that longing.

This is certainly no kitten.

But as the silence dragged out, Jon’s face grew more despondent. “Please?” his son begged, the vulnerability in his voice nearly rending Daemon asunder.

His sons so rarely asked him for anything, usually content with whatever they were provided—a lingering reminder of their time in the Vale, where they had been taught to treasure what scraps of affection they had been thrown. Daemon could too easily imagine Allard Royce staring coldly in the face of their pleas, denying them again and again.

As he gazed into his son’s eyes, he could see a glimmer of that younger child, hopeful but guarded, daring to believe that Daemon might grant his dearest wish.

It is a direwolf, Daemon thought despairingly. A wild thing. As like to harm them as help.

“What if we were not alone with him?” Rhaegar asked. “He sleeps in a common area at night, and during the day, we are with you—or Ser Willam. Or a Princesguard, when we are back home. Until you trust him.”

He met the wolf’s eyes again, unnerved by its calm. He could not help but feel as though it was an act for his benefit, even though that was absurd.

“I make no promises,” Daemon said, trying hard to maintain his stern demeanor in the face of their shared elation. “Should the beast harm anyone who is not directly threatening you, it will be taken back out into the wilds.”

“He won’t,” Jon breathlessly assured him, and the pup nosed him in the ear, drawing a wide smile. “Thank you.”

“And when you are outside with it, you will have your dragons present.” He caught a ripple of something in Rhaegar’s expression and he narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

“It is nothing,” Rhaegar said, holding out for several seconds before admitting, “Qelebrys tried to attack him.”

Daemon resolved to find a nice plump pig for his son’s drake later. “And Shadow?”

Rhaegar smiled wryly. “Shadow will try to play with anything.”

[omegaverse-anthropologist]

bites

this post is inspired by @beta-adjacent’s post about bite marks. i got really emotional thinking about friends exchanging bites and wanted to say more about it lol

bonding bite facts

bite scars, like all other scars, vary in visibility and permanence from person to person. in historical practice, various substances (clay, ash, or ink, most commonly) were applied to a fresh bite to improve visibility and permanence. modern practice uses ‘bite powder’ or ‘bite ink’ for those who want a more permanent, easily detectable scar. this is the most common scarification practice, present in most cultures globally.

bites can be exchanged in various locations on the body. claiming or mating bites tend to be found at the scent glands on the neck, but can be left anywhere on the body. marking other locations are considered nontraditional—it would be akin to wearing a wedding ring on a finger other than the left ring finger (in cultures where that is the traditional location).

healthy bonding bites do not typically affect a person’s inherent scent. a person may release more detectable ‘happy pheromones’ after exchanging bites with a loved one, but these tend to fade after a few weeks. conversely, a person may release more detectable ‘distressed pheromones’ after receiving a bite under duress, and these tend to linger much longer.

biting someone who accepts under duress is no different from biting someone who has clearly rejected it. in the US, forcing a bite is considered felony assault and battery

mating bites may be administered in a variety of settings. a traditional practice between omegas and their alpha or beta mates is to exchange bites during their first heat after the pair has agreed to mate. some cultures practice ‘claiming ceremonies,’ where the mated pair exchanges bites in front of their families and friends, community leaders, and/or religious leaders.

bite types

mating or claiming bites - most commonly located on or around the scent glands at the nape. historically, alphas were not marked when mating with betas or omegas, but in current society bites tend to be exchanged between mates of any sex rather than used as a tool for alphas to stake a claim on someone of a so-called ‘lower sex.’

pack or bonding bites - most commonly located on or around the scent glands at the wrist. in some more traditional or long-established packs, either the pack alpha or chief omega administers pack bites to new members. popular culture treats this practice as old-fashioned, with some young people referring to it as a ‘boomer bite.’ in younger or more progressive packs, any member may extend the bite to an unmarked pack mate.

camaraderie bites, also called ‘bestie bites’ - may be located anywhere on the body. a more recent practice, only from the last 60 years or so, stemming from the free love movement and sexual revolution of the 1960s and 70s. these bites are exchanged between close friends, but are not typically an expectation. to share a camaraderie bite with a friend is a mark of profound intimacy. in many young adult novels, a life changing experience shared between friends is punctuated by the exchange of camaraderie bites. some groups have expressed displeasure with this trend, as they feel it cheapens the significance of the camaraderie bite.

bite perks

mated pairs report increased happiness in their relationship, though causality between the bite’s presence and relationship satisfaction is unclear.

bite-bonded packs demonstrate a similar phenomenon with similarly unclear causality

friends who exchange camaraderie bites tend to report a stronger sense of connection, satisfaction, and contentment in all of their friendships, not just the bite-bonded one.

individuals in healthy bite-bonded relationships of any type report a stronger sense of self and belonging, which is associated with positive health outcomes, job satisfaction, and overall happiness

bite-bonded married couples and unmarried couples with registered mating bites receive the same social and legal privileges

global acceptance for same sex (i.e. a-a and o-o) mates is increasing rapidly, with legal recognition for these mating arrangements in over 85% of countries

[whiskeyandcigarsmoke]

Here's a thought

Worst Wolverine coming from an ABO universe but him being a mutate fucked with his secondary gender....

He's both Alpha AND Omega.

He grows a knot just like any Alpha, but he also produces slick like other Omegas. He doesn't have a Rut or Heat, but a confusing, frustrating mixture of both at the same time.

Alphas don't want him and Omegas are scared of him.

Sometimes, a curious Beta approaches him, but they're just chasing thrills and always leave as soon as they get what they want from him. He never got pregnant, and as far as he knows, he never got anyone pregnant. He thinks he just shoots blanks and has the wrong body to create life. His Alpha side feels like a horrible Mate who can't provide, and his Omega self feels abandoned constantly.

He eventually stops accepting any offers from Betas and stays completely alone, even thru his "cycles."

That is until Wade snatched him up, dragging him thru the multiverse and into his home.

[goddessofroyalty]

In any X-men omegaverse au Charles obviously is going to have a mating bite courtesy of Magneto.

Except I lean towards the worldbuilding where mating bites and bonds will wear off in time if they're not actively maintained.

But Charles still spends more time with a mating bite/bond than not because every time it's nearly been long enough or has just been long enough for it to wear off he and Magneto end up working together for one reason or another and by the end of it Charles has a fresh bite and renewed bond.

The timing is actually coincidental (and more a testiment to how often they end up working together) but is still very much the elephant in the room when Magneto inevitably leaves again and they return to being advesaries.

[born-to-riot]

Idk if this counts as a Drabble but basically it starts as me theorizing an event in Prythian and then turns into ‘what if Azris’

WC: 3,325

(TW: A/B/O, loosely nsfw, talks of breeding, male omegas have cocklets and boypussies).

Okay but hear me out.

I want a Prythian mating run

Make it A/B/O (along with their regular magic powers) (however maybe there’s some traditional powder that participants are required to take so that it dampens their powers and awakens the alpha/beta/omega inside of them)

It’s primal, the lopers start first. Battling each other to find and make the best den and claim territory for them to bring their runner back to once they catch them.

After a while, they catch the scents of the runners filtering throughout the forest. That’s when the game truly begins.

the runners don’t make it easy (usually betas and omegas)

(What’s point of making it easy when you’re strong and want to make the alpha/beta prove they are worthy and can breed you full of strong pups)

(Any second gender is allowed to sign up in any position: runner or loper)

(For example, just last season the alpha prince of Adriata, Varian, shocked Prythian when rumors spread that he signed up to be a runner. The shock multiplied when it was rumored that he was caught by the scariest and tiniest alpha of Prythian, Amren of the Night Court. Legend has it the two came out four days after the mating run covered in blood and scratches but are now inseparable).

It’s all about scent.

Only unmated faes can participate. Think of the occasion like an annual festival to see if two halves of a whole can find one another.

Not every pair who comes together will be mates as an actual mating bond is rare to find (also sometimes the pairs aren’t even the most compatible scent-wise be it alpha athleticism, an omega caught in a trap, or just the luck of the catch) but usually by the time an loper catches an runner, both of their pheromones have their instincts roaring.

But if you are mates or just are the most compatible for one another… oh the mother will let you know. There will be some other force pushing the runner to go faster, there is something that pushes the loper to be more violent about ridding the runner’s trail of other lopers running after the same scent. The closer they get to one another the wetter the omegas cunt gets the heavier an alphas cock, even betas will adjust accordingly depending on whether they are a runner or a loper.

Azris below the cut

Now let’s say Eris enters the race this year as a runner. Years prior he’s been forced by his father to sign up as a loper despite the fact that he’s technecially an omega, which is fine (but dangerous- some fellow lopers would get distracted by his scent and try to go after him. While he always fought them off he can’t deny the inner thrill of the chase) and Some years he’s caught good scents and has even followed some of them, hunted them. Usually though, his interest would fade and he would just return to his den and hang out in his nest until the event was over.

Not this year, this year, instead of just going to the Autumn run, Eris heard a rumor that a certain Shadowsinger would finally be participating in an intercourt run. He hated himself for being weak to the temptation but ever since he felt the other’s scarred hands around his neck Eris’ inner omega can’t fight the fantasy of being knotted by the Illyrian.

Eris doesn’t tell his father that he’s signing up as a runner, of course. He just lets the man know that he is going to try his luck with a wider pool of runners to choose from- which Beron accepted.

There is a gathering before the run, this is where runners and lopers can mingle and familiarize each other with scents that intrigue them. Legend has it that it is at one of these minglings where Thesan and his lover first made contact. Eris goes to this meeting and tries to mingle. He talks to many handsome and beautiful lopers, but he doesn’t feel his cocklet twitch until he makes eye contact with Azriel, who is staring at him from across the room, over the head of the third archeron sister. Elain.

Shit. Eris can’t believe he let himself forget about the newest object of Azriel’s affections. He can’t believe he even allowed himself to hope for just a minute that the Shadowsinger might return his interest. He can’t believe he let himself think that he smelt the other’s cedar infused arousal back when he whispered in his ear at the High Lord’s meeting.

Eris quickly sidesteps so that he’s out of view of the Shadowsinger but he can’t rid himself of the memory of his hazel eyes. Maybe his father was right, he should never be a runner because omegas let their thoughts get clouded by their cunts.

Eris knows he should leave the gathering before Azriel could have the opportunity to spread the word to whatever other members of the Inner Circle that are present. But his inner omega is waging war against him. Give him your scent. We are the most worthy omega in here. Eris isn’t so sure if he agrees with that, but he’s come this far and defied his father by opening up the possibility for a son of Autumn to be caught and bred. He supposes it won’t hurt to give the alpha a reminder of the scent he should be hunting.

So Eris moves, head held high. He walks around the edges of the room, dodging wanting alphas who approach him. He stops once he’s two meters away from the present members of the Night Court Inner Circle, facing the back of Azriel’s wings that separate him from the two ladies in front of him—Mor and Elain. The two female fae are chatting with one another and Azriel is clearly focused on analyzing the room around him— at least Eris assumes so based on the slight movements of the black haired man’s head.

Shining gold twinkles at the corner of Eris’ eye and grabs his attention. He spies a tall spring court alpha adorned in gold jewelry. The male is not Tamlin but he sure is beautiful, Eris can’t help but think. He sees the golden male approaching his direction at the same time Eris recognizes a semi-familiar shadow flitting by him. He has an idea.

Eris waits as the golden alpha comes closer and closer and he makes note that the shadow that was passing by has stilled and attempted to blend in with the natural darkness of the wall nearest to him. Eris feels a smirk form on his face as he thinks about the fact that the Shadowsinger has no idea that Eris knows each and every time the male is watching him.

Finally, the golden alpha gets close enough and Eris purposefully angles himself so that the other will ‘accidentally’ knock into him. The plan goes accordingly and soon Eris is letting out a pointed gasp as the Spring Court Alpha catches him by the waist with an apology. Eris laughs then, purposefully emitting his toasted maple and almond scent as if he was truly embarrassed. Eris waves the golden alpha away, smiling as if he wasn’t disgusted by his musk of freshly cut grass, and calmly readjusts his blazer before walking towards the exit of the gathering. It’s not until after he takes two steps out of the door that he hears footsteps behind him and sees a shadow in front of him that mimics the lines of the familiar pair of wings that never seem to escape his mind.

“Why hello Azriel,” Eris says, pausing his movements, listening as the footsteps get louder as the Shadowsinger approaches him from behind. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I think I should be saying that to you,” Eris can’t help but bite back a keen as he smells the other’s cedar aura. Azriel grabs him by the waist—his hand covering the exact same spot where the Spring Court alpha had held Eris earlier— and turns him around to face him. Eris is proud of himself for maintaining an unimpressed expression on his face as he feels his cunt clench around nothing.

Eris tries not to show how much Azriel affects him, he tries not to cry as the Shadowsinger releases him and puts his hands back in his pockets. He tries to convince himself that he isn’t desperate for this alpha to chase him tomorrow, to accept his challenge, to want him.

“Are you a runner or a loper?” Azriel asks, surprising Eris as the Autumn Court male was expecting some sort of snarky comment that is typical of a member of the Night Court when it comes to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Eris smirks in a manner that he knows irritates the other, hoping for Azriel to let out more of his scent.

“I’ve heard you usually spend your mating run in Autumn as a loper… that you haven’t…” Azriel trails off, his scent growing stronger as he completes the sentence internally. Eris takes a step closer to Azriel.

“That I haven’t taken anyone back to my nest? That I haven’t been bred yet?” He asks, “What is it Azriel, what have you heard?”

What do you want, alpha? Eris shushes his inner omega.

“I’ve heard you’ve chased hundreds of runners but none of them have satisfied you enough to finish the chase.”

Eris spies Azriel gulp and his wings twitch as he says so.

“What you’ve heard is true,” Eris admits and shivers as he senses Azriel’s cedar musk grow stronger. He feels his own inner omega screaming inside of him, begging him to let out his own maple and almond in response. He feels heat pooling in his stomach and he knows he needs to exit this conversation soon before his inner omega takes over completely.

“Are you running?” Azriel asks, stepping even closer to Eris. Eris glares at him, hating that Azriel’s curiosity is feeding into his inner hope that the male might be interested in him.

“Maybe, not that it should matter to you with the remaining Archeron sister in the mix,” Eris crosses his arms over his chest.

“It doesn’t matter to me, I just want to know,” Azriel insists. Eris rolls his eyes. Liar.

“Okay Shadowsinger, whatever you say,” Eris nods at the other and starts to walk off towards his tent, trying not to get his hopes up.

“Eris, wait!” Azriel calls out to him, causing Eris to pause.

“Yes?” He asks, turning around to face the other who hasn’t moved from has spot.

“I…” Eris feels more heat pool into his core at the growl of frustration that Azriel lets out.

“I fucking hate you, but I need to know,” Azriel sounds a mix of conflicted and determined. That is more than what Eris was expecting so he’ll take a win where he can.

“The only thing I will tell you is…,” Eris starts as he approaches Azriel, figuring this is his best chance to let the other know his intentions. Almost as if the Shadowsinger is in a trance he takes a couple steps forward to meet Eris, bringing the two chest to chest. Eris is taller but Azriel is wider with muscles and his wings.

“Hmm” Azriel hums, prompting him. Eris watches as Azriel removes his hands from his pockets and starts to clench and unclench them.

Tell him, his inner omega encourages. Eris knows this is his only chance to get what he wants. If he were to get caught by another loper, not mate him, and his father finds out Eris knows he will never be allowed to participate in another mating run again unless it’s in Autumn and he is loping.

“I’m tired of being empty, Azriel. I want pups, I want a partner, I’m tired of pretending I’m not interested in you,” Eris ignores how Azriel widens his eyes in surprise and continues before he loses his courage, knowing he would be executed by his father if the man ever found out Eris was so weak to his instincts.

“I know what I smelled in that High Lord’s meeting, your hands were around my throat but your alpha was in your eyes and he was daring me not to disobey. I could smell that you wanted me and I can tell that every time you’ve looked at me since you’ve been thinking about it,” Eris sniffs as he feels a tear coming to his eyes, he knows his dream is impossible but he also owes himself one last chance to see it through.

“Remember my scent, Azriel,” Eris shakily reaches out for one of Azriel’s scared hands and takes it into his own, ignoring how his inner omega screams in delight at the contact. Azriel doesn’t resist as Eris brings the shadowsinger’s wrist up to his neck and rubs it against his scent gland before releasing it. He briefly eyes how Azriel’s wings seem to spread wider around the two of them, almost like he’s trying to block Eris from the sight of anyone who may walk by. Eris refuses to get his hopes up, even as he notes how carefully Azriel brings his now-scented hand back to his side.

“Do know, Azriel, if you decide to try and catch me, I won’t make it easy for you. If you successfully catch me, I’ll try to break loose and force you to catch me again. If you give me no other options but to submit to you, I will never let you go. I don’t give second chances, I can’t afford to,” Eris’ amber eyes stay locked on Azriel’s returning hazel gaze, “I refuse to settle for anything less than what I deserve and do not think I will wait for you if some other alpha proves to be stronger.”

Azriel alpha lets out a growl at that statement. Eris ignores the surprise that blinks into Azriel’s eyes at his own reaction and he takes a step back so he can communicate his thoughts clearly—he also begs his inner omega to shut the fuck up about how badly Azriel’s alpha clearly wants them, Eris knows that hope only leads to disappointment. However, Eris also knows that he can’t afford to have any regrets here, so he must finish his piece.

“Think about what you want, Azriel. Don’t let your guilt or loyalty influence your decision. I will say this only once: I refuse to be your back-up option, if you come after me, you better want me.”

With that Eris turns around before Azriel can say anything or shift his expression in response to Eris pouring out his soul for the other to see. He quickly walks away, trying to ignore the eyes he can feel boring into his back as he does so.

That night in his tent Eris weighs the merits of following through with running. The mating run is about lopers chasing the most compatible scent. It’s a bloody affair, lopers often fight each other if they sense another alpha on the path to their runner of desire and even once the loper catches a runner any respectful runner will fight back and make them work for it.

The pre gathering is often a time for lopers and runners to first get familiarized with some scents so they can maybe find one they want to chase the next morning. If he is being honest with himself, Eris is a little embarrassed at how much weakness he showed Azriel in admitting he wants the other to consider him. But Eris also is someone who isn’t afraid to go after what he wants and he knows that realistically this is his only chance. Also he knows that Azriel’s family has probably planted doubts in Azriel’s head so Eris needed to make sure the other saw him as a possible mate.

As Eris lays down to sleep that night, he imagines how tomorrow could go if Azriel decides to choose him. The lopers would get up earlier and paint themselves in their chosen ritualistic symbols from their courts and that represent themselves. The runners would all gather behind the lopers as they line up to race into the forest, ready to compete to find and make the best den before the runners begin. Maybe if Eris is lucky, Azriel will give him a sign that he’s made his decision, that he is going to be coming after him. If that’s the case then Eris knows he won’t be able to stop his cunt from releasing juices as he bathes himself in preparation during the dedicated time while the lopers are in the forest and building dens. Eris would wait with the other runners once he was done, strategizing and planning against possible traps and obstacles that will be in his way. He knows he has an advantage as the heir of Autumn, even if the special powder they take dampen his powers, he grew up jumping from tree to tree along with all his siblings. Eris knows his inner omega will be singing and he will happily take a backseat once it’s finally time to run. He trusts his omega to guide him where to go and he trust in his own strength to keep him safe.

Eris knows he smells good, maple and almonds make a lovely mix and he knows his inner omega won’t be able to stop radiating his scent like a beacon. Eris is only interested in one alpha, and the powder doesn’t affect his wings as they are additional limbs. So he knows if Azriel comes for him, he would come from above. Eris imagines hopping from tree to tree staying under the cover of leaves. He imagines being stuck at one point, up high, the next tree too far for him to make the leap and a crowd of drooling alphas waiting for him to fall. He imagines Azriel finally swooping in and growling at them all, taking care of them viscously. Eris knows his cunt would be dripping at the sight but he also knows that he couldn’t watch he’d have to keep moving.

Eris doesn’t know how Azriel would finally catch him but Eris knows that he’d fight with every fiber of his being, he’d want Azriel to prove that he wants him, that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to claim him, that he’s strong enough to father their pups. He knows that his cunt will be throbbing once he finally submits and he hopes Azriel will take a moment to taste him before he flies them to his den.

Eris imagines that Azriel would probably set up his den in a cave on a mountain, higher than other alphas, easy to defend and probably close to a water and food source. He imagines that Azriel would be thoughtful and supply the cave with nesting materials for Eris to use once he brings him there.

Eris doesn’t even want to imagine what comes next as he knows the idea of Azriel breeding him over and over and claiming him will give him too much hope.

Eris falls asleep, oblivious to the shadows that occupy his tent, their master not planning on letting his dream omega slip away from him when he finally has a chance to make him his.

____________

OKAY so I wasn’t planning to write all of this, it’s kind of just a story I want to happen but I am too lazy to fully write myself.

But any thoughts?

Also lopers don’t have to kill rival lopers but there’s nothing against it if they do… azriel most definitely will eliminate threats.

(Also this is just an idea, if someone were to write something like this I would spread my legs for them especially if they added smut and gore WOOT)

NVM IM GONNA WRITE IT MYSELF MUAHAHHAHAAHA

[unhetalia]

More dysfunctional dynamics —

Arthur's favourite is Alfred, but years of bitterness over Alfred's revolution means he doesn't treat him very well even when they finally get over that hurdle.

Meanwhile, Arthur thinks of Matthew as 'ex colony' and 'ally' and not much else, yet takes his side whenever there's conflict between the brothers, and treats Matthew like an equal in a way he only does with Alfred when forced to, and doesn't bother doing with Australia and New Zealand at all.

This is terrible for Matthew, and he doesn't realise it until it's too late.

A younger Matthew basks in the attention and flaunts it at his newly independent brother — to prove he made the right choice by not leaving, to work off his righteous anger for the hurt Alfred caused Arthur. For a time, Matthew really believes he's now Arthur's favourite, and he thrives.

Arthur, of course, is lavishing Matthew with attention to make a struggling Alfred regret his decision to leave. Matthew has new, comfortable clothes, and Alfred has to patch up the holes in his scratchy old shirts himself. Arthur spends nearly all his time with Matthew in the years after Alfred's revolution.

But eventually, Arthur's attention wanes. He has other colonies, more valuable ones, and Matthew doesn't have that something that makes Arthur love him despite a lack of riches. (Whatever Alfred had, Matthew thinks.)

In the meantime, Alfred's bonded with Francis, and their relationship is real. Francis treats Alfred like a son and a friend.

Arthur starts treating Matthew with polite disinterest, now that he's no longer trying to make Alfred jealous. Still, the physical dynamic between Arthur and Matthew doesn't change. Arthur treats Matthew better than he treats anyone else because he's used to doing that - there's just no feeling behind it. (Eventually, of course, that polite disinterest turns into a real acquaintance, a comfortable dynamic, but never the affection Matthew craves.)

It alienates Matthew from Australia and New Zealand, too, who see Arthur's treatment as a sign of love and favour they felt they didn't receive. They joke around with Alfred about Arthur being a jerk and then stop when they notice Matthew in the room.

Matthew can't say anything, not when Arthur never interrupts him when he shares his ideas. When they meet for breakfast every month and Arthur takes all his advice into consideration.

Matthew has Arthur's respect but lost out on everything else — a closer relationship with Francis, a camaraderie with Australia and New Zealand.

Meanwhile, no one thinks Alfred has Arthur's respect, but Matthew knows he has his heart, and Francis' affection, and a friendship with Australia and New Zealand.

How can Matthew not resent his brother for having everything he wants?

[sysakiddo]

1,2,3

Max should be holding his hand. He should interlace their fingers and hold them tight. He should caress his cheek and fix the duvet that doesn't cover his left arm properly. He should be holding his hand. He should be holding his hand so he doesn’t think he’s alone when he wakes up. So he knows Max is here. 

Instead, he pushes his chair further to the corner. The shame burns his stomach unpleasantly and he starts counting the tiles on the floor to distract himself. 

Daniel, naturally, stirs awake when Max least expects it. 

He sprints to his feet and takes two big strides so he is closer to the hospital bed. 

“Hey,” Daniel smiles crookedly, looking surprised to see Max. Or surprised to be alive. Yeah, that might be it. 

“Hey yourself,” Max says and instantly gets red in the face. He feels stupid for being there.  “You’ve been out for two days,” he adds, a need to provide information ingrained deep into his DNA. 

Daniel ignores him, and keeps smiling. It looks horrifying on his pale face, cheeks hollow and his upper lip stitched up. “It’s nice to see you,” 

Max just nods and looks out of the window so he doesn’t have to look at the way Daniel struggles to take a full breath, his broken ribs forming a prison to his lugs. Max’s fingers are twitching. Every cell of his body wants to touch him, to make sure he is really alive, to patch him up himself and ease his pain. “006 said you didn’t recognize him during the extraction. Do you remember everything?” 

Daniel is still smiling when he nods. He knows he will get asked the same question at least ten more times in various forms. 

Max finds the courage to look back at him. Daniel’s forearms are covered with bruises from the  needle punctures. The doctors are still not completely sure what they’ve been injected him with. His fingers are still crooked a bit bizarrely, even after the surgery. His right wrist is not bandaged yet, they were waiting for him to wake up. It is swollen even though the suturing looks neat. Suddenly, the intimacy of seeing Daniel’s bare wrist, without his watch covering it, is too much for him. He takes a shuddering breath. 

“Will it leave a scar?” Daniel sees him staring, and catches his eyes. 

Max nods mutely. 

“Cool,” Daniel’s smile must tug unpleasantly on his lip. 

Max’s eyes fill with tears, prickling painfully. He blinks, trying to compose himself. Lewis said he was not acting like himself. He was of course right. 

“Q,” Daniel mutters, the tone of his voice filled with emotion. His fingers wiggle like he wants to reach out to Max. “I-” he swallows, voice betraying him. 

A chill runs down Max’s back. It makes him snap back to reality. With a terrible force, he gets reminded of who he is. 

Daniel doesn’t even know his name. 

“I have work to do,” he snaps, turns around and walks over to his computer set up in the corner. Daniel doesn’t say anything else until the nurse shows up. 

[multicolour-ink]

Thinking about how Sonic didn't believe for a second that he was big brother material, then meeting Tails and being like "You're my sibling now". T-T

[hundredpoundsofsassyandunstable]

Miles Morales Batfam Crossover WHEN?

I've tried looking for a dark matter style crossover but with miles morales and what have i found, NOTHING??? I had some hope guys.

He would be PERFECT for a crossover fic, let that be comic miles or spiderverse miles , and you can modify the story anyway you want to make it fit in your timeline.

He is a punny kid, so many puns the batfam would die with him because thats THEIR THING- Dumb puns, in the spiderverse.

Like come on, name me a teenager, a young teenager, with no guidance at all about being spiderman (in the movies) and sure he has parents but they don't know and he is ALONE. (starts with an M)

And also he goes to school in JERSEY- guess who lives in NJ- THE BATFAM? THATS GOTHAM

There is so many ways to make it fit.

Also imagine the angst from being in a universe (if we ignore like a lot of spiderverse) and then suddenly you are 15-16 getting thrown into a different universe a nobody trained you for the worst case situation and you are clever enough to survive, but your parents must be worried sick.

And please do not give me just Duke Thomas and Miles Morales friendship, Miles bonds with ALL the family.

Dynamics i want to see ? 14-15 yo Damian wayne with Miles, Duke with Miles. BRUCE AND MILES THE POTENTIAL? two geniuses, a genius all grown and all with his issues and this meta kid who also needs guidance and has spunk.

Idk if i explained myself well but i will later at some point please authors see the potential, SEE IT

[ghostpebble]

i fear faker is an absolute BANGER and it's stuck in my head

[number-one-shadisper-shipper]

Okay so we have Sonic and Tails, The Unbreakable Bond.

I think Sonic and Nine should be called "The Shatterproof Bond"

[shadedlight]

@silverinthedark

Chaos. Raging like the fires which consumed urban streets that were cluttered with an array of concrete rubble. Such wreckage unfathomable, yet a testament to his destructive power. Like a specter of the night, he peered down of the ledge of the Skytree building he stood upon. Crimson eyes glowing furiously with a toxic concoction of emotions which swirled about within his mind like a chaotic windstorm.

50 years.

50 goddamn years he was put under cryostasis. And through it all, relived the scenes of her death. Tormented by the vision... that's an understatement. It was fucking hell. A nonstop reminder of his loss played on loop as if fate was taunting him with her warm smiles, and words of kindness that touched him. With a haggard sigh, his eyes slipped shut as his hand rose up to clutch his chest. The pain...it was too much to bare. With a frown, he moved away from where he stood, turning his back on the destruction he had created as he strolled on by, passing a bright blue mass that laid there, unconscious and cuffed to some pipes.

The creature only paused momentarily to study the strange, brightly colored look-alike. He felt a little bad, but the creatures which confronted him minutes before wouldn't heed his warning, nor leave him be like he wanted. And so, he told himself that it was their fault for not listening in the first place. He shouldn't feel bad at all. So, with a scoff, he carried on. He needed to get away anyway before G.U.N. sent more troops after him.

All he wanted to do right now, was think...grieve.

His quills then, spark, with golden electrical energy radiating off him before he sped off in a dash from the top of the tower to the bottom, then vanished into some dark alley....

-----------------

Quietly he sat, ears pulled back slightly as he gazed down at his own palms. Behind him stood a mural, covered with eerie graffiti that suited the dark, gloomy atmosphere which washed over the scene. The chill of the rain pouring down forced a shiver down his spine. Resting his back against the painted wall, a low hiss escaped his clenched teeth, lip curled to expose a hint of a fang as his sorrowful eyes were distant.

"Maria..." came a choked sob as he buried his face within his hands while pulling his knees to his chest. His only friend, family...his light. Snuffed out, just like that. And there was no way of getting that back...