#bondmate AU

[witchofthesouls]

How are the mornings between Tarn and the wife?

Because Tarn is Tarn and his headspace is very weird, he didn't develop a sex addiction... he developed one for intimacy instead.

While many things changed with your inclusion, the most crucial parts hadn't. Tarn begins his cycle by reciting the passages of Megatron's works that speak to him or the next Listed the most beneath his Lord's cold visage immortalized in glorious pieces. He still does it, but in the comfort of the berth, where he includes the newsparks in the exercise.

He does it quietly inside in mind, careful not to stir you or the clutches. The first trio had tumbled their way back to the shared quarters, curling up between you and him, encased in the nest of sheets and padding, purring in their sleep at Tarn's return and your presence.

The second clutch is tiny. More head and tank with stumpy limbs and swaddled in Vos' newest pieces that feature hooks and bloody gears. They sleep nestled above inside a hollowed space that once served as a datapad rest and a charging point that's been repurposed to a controlled cradle. Under the carving of Megatron's stony expression and your knife-sharp observation.

Tarn is well-aware of what the other Decepticons are saying, and they can't be further from the truth. You're not a soft individual. You're a vicious one, and you turn that ferocity onto yourself.

In the wetlands where the third clutch was sparked, you bared your spark the same way you bared your teeth: possessive with brutal efficiency. Tearing through the induced heat with the same intensity as you tear through Deadzone's corpse or refined Overlord's downfall.

You have never known peace. Whatever softness that isn't part of the natural reaction of your swelling protoform during carriage, you had to incise it from your scarred spark. Gentleness is a lost word to you. It's buried beneath so much Energon and violence that you need to claw it out from nightmares to raise the sparklings with a softer touch.

The sparklings are open and guileless with a trust that leaves him floundering at times. Small and completely reliant on others, on him.

You never held it against Tarn. Instead, you guide his hands on how to hold and care for them and guide his field on how to modulate the newsparks' rapid tempo into something more slow and easy without overwhelming them.

Tarn's habsuite has become more sacred than a Primal temple, graced by an intimacy greater than any physical joinery or scent marking. Beneath the aroma of newborn metal, sparking fuel, faint ozone and bodily fluids, and the tang of polish and oil, all of his personal belongings have the echoes of the little family imprinted upon them.

After the Overlord incident, Tarn now works his way through the cupboard to ensure each sheet and cover, every blanket and pillow had been utilized by you and the clutches long enough to lock in the unique biosignatures.

Everyone knows that he burnt the last berth with all the articles due to Overlord's and your Energon upon them. Tarn never spoke about how much he loathed how Overlord destroyed the biosignatures, engulfing it all under the Phase Sixer's field until all was left was sadistic bloodlust, your feverish triumph, and the second clutch's confused terror at the forced emergence.

(Quietly and only his spark, he mourns that he doesn't have anything that's been touched by both carriages. Nothing will have the little tinges of both clutches' development within your frame and biosignature.)

You either have an excellent sense of timing or deep awareness for private matters because Tarn finishes the silent deliverances, and you're staring at him with half-lite optics at his bared face. Without a word and careful not to prod the sparklings, you straddle Tarn, sinking upon him with a well practiced motion. You pull the leash taunt, Tarn's vocalizer clicks uselessly, purposely rendered impotent in the fear he damages the bitlets, and he shivers at the stony expression between you and Lord Megatron. Fields still in careful moderation to not jolt the sparklings, but when you place a hand over his neck, digging sharpened talons into the scarring where you bit him. Between the firm possessive touch claim, your clenching valve, and the fresh scent of his own Energon, Tarn can't even whimper as he overloads.

[omegaversetheory]

Courtship

Traditional Omegaverse

After getting caught up with Bridgerton the wheels started turning...here is the courtship process in my au at the moment.

The Promenade - A debutant ball style event where families walk and present their child who has newly come of age around the village center and to the town hall to register as an official pack member. The promenade also signifies that the child is ready to find a mate/bond partner to all of the other pack members. Promenades normally occur the first summer after the child's 21st year, but could be delayed all the way to age 24. There is often a high level of pagentry involved, and specific promenade customs vary by region and culture.

Setting Intent - Asking someone out in a traditional marriage isn't the same as just simply saying the words. The pursuer (of any dynamic or gender) will write to letters; one to the person they are interested in, which is very heartfelt and private. It normally containings information about why the pursuer is interested in the pursuee, things that have caught their eye, why they might be a good match, and other sweet nothings. The second letter is to the pursuee's parents/family (or pack if they are not a part of the same one) detailing how the pursuer sees themself fitting into their community, the skills they possess, any wealth/connections they have, and other information that shows the family they would be a valuable addition. Parties would exchanges letters back and forth until a decision had been reached, specific information exchanged by a pursuee and pursuer is kept private, but the pursuee's family must inform the pursuee about their correspondance with their potential bondmate.

Courtship Period - once the pursuer and the object of their affection agree to enter into courtship it begins. If they do not live close together, the pursuer will move to wherever the pursuee is. Courtship may last anywhere from 4-18 months. This period of the process is conducted 100% publicly/semi-publicly. Partners are not allowed to convene privately and may be escorted by 2+ (for witness accountability) chaperones. Courtships may be broken off at any time, but no matter how serious a couple is, they may not move to the next step for 118 days (4 lunar cycles/approximately 4 months).

The Sitting - a ritual that comes between courting and bonding. Lasts one full harvest season/one heat cycle. A couple sequesters away together (normally in designated housing) to get to know each other deeply and experience living together without distractions. Neither partner works, meals are provided by community members. In most cultures, the couple is either expected to abstain from intimacy throughout the duration of the sitting including during any heat/rut period. It is split into two sections - an closed period in which the couple may not be seen in public or be around other people, and an open period where they are free to move about freely. The closed period is extremely difficult but it forces the couple to examine the viability of the coupling beyond the lust/infatuation period. Couples may bond one another after the heat or rut has broken, or the harvest is complete or they may choose to separate.

Bond Ceremonies - A high ranking pack or ministerial official will guide the partners through a vow ceremony which will be performed in front of their community, the community or pack normally then arranges a dinner/meal to celebrate with dancing, and then the couple will retire to perform bonding privately. To ensure the bonding has been completed, within two weeks of the ceremony both partners must show their bond marks to the person who conducted their vow ceremony and as well as one witness picked at random. All four parties will then sign an official document, signifying the bond is now legally binding.

[lauramkaye]

Ok ok ok so bear with me though:

Pride and Prejudice/Star Trek fusion AU where Darcy is Sarek and Elizabeth is Amanda

The Vulcan embassy to Earth is Netherfield

Caroline Bingley is the snooty society Vulcan that Sarek was in an arranged bonding with

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Vulcan in possession of excellent logic must be in want of a Bondmate”

AND T’PAU IS LADY CATHERINE DE BOURGH

[smilesheartshugs]

How colors work:

A continuation of my soul mate au:

First a recap of the base colors:

Blue= parent child bonds

Green= sibling bonds

Orange= aunt/uncle niece/nephew bonds

Yellow= friendship bonds

Gold= grand parent grand child bonds

Red= romantic bonds

Purple= trust bonds

Pink= a mysterious adult bond no one is willing to talk about

Black= mortal enemy

Grey= a dead bond

Silver= a weird time travel dead bond/unformed bond

How coloring the bonds work:

For most bonds the color is a combination of the two souls that form the bond. (This is why Jason’s bonds that form after his dunk in the pit all have a green hue to them)

With parent child bonds however, the bond is a reflection of the child’s soul. Most people consider the bond formed when holding your new born infant to be a first look at your child’s soul. Some parents won’t name a child until they see their bond with the child.

Trust bonds are a reflection of how much you trust the person you are bonded to. For this reason it is possible for a trust bond to form on one person but not the other. A completed trust bond will be a deep royal purple color. Complete meaning that you 100% trust this person. This does not necessarily mean the person trust you. An incomplete bond will be a softer and a lighter shade of purple. Most trust bonds start out as a soft lilac color and will gradually become richer in value as the trust becomes stronger.

Okay so placement doesn’t have as much meaning as color does.

Of corse there are places certain bond types form, but that more of a were to look type thing. Over time placement became symbolic in nature. “I trust you with my back” (trust bonds form on the back) “you have my heart” (romantic bonds form over your heart) you are like the scum on my feet (enemy bonds form on the soul of your foot)

The placement also make it easier to identify the type of bond some one had after it has been greyed out

What happens when a bondmate dies (and if the realive later)

When someone dies, their bonds (both those physically on them and the match in their mate) will grey out.

When archeologist find old human bones they find old soul bonds. This make it easier to identify the kind of relationships ancient people have had with one another. This also makes it easier to identity human remains.

Now when someone comes back from the dead their bonds will still be greyed out. When Jason comes back he was convinced that he was unloveable because of his dead bonds. How ever, once you touch your mated ones again the color will return. Jason and Dick learn this after Dick had trapped Jason in one of his octopus hugs.

[lead-acetate]

Fellas Is It Gay To Be Bonded

I completely forgot to promote my fic but now that the fourth chapter is out, here's an illustration I did for it! It's little Spock and Jim on their bonding ceremony. More about the fic under the image description.

[Image description: Two similar versions of the same image; it's digital art as if done with coloured pencils. It shows two children, Jim and Spock, standing against the background of red Vulcan sky and ochre desert, from the chest up. They should be 7 and 8 in the picture but they look a little older. The sky is different shades of red and crimson, the horizon line is uneven. Spock is standing to the left. They are wearing an orange robe, with light yellow calligraphy running along the lapel. Their skin is pale and yellowish with a green undertone. They have black straight hair styled in a bowlcut, pointed ears and Vulcan eyebrows (angled up rather than down at the sides). Jim is standing to the right. He is wearing a similar robe of raspberry colour, with purple spirals of calligraphy running down the lapel. He's white, but his skintone is warmer and tanner than Spock's, and he has pink blush on his cheeks. His hair is light brown with golden accents, it's messy and cut short. Both Jim and Spock have their eyes closed. Jim is smiling openly, Spock's face is neutral, with just a slightest uptick of their mouth. In the second version of the picture, there is a dark purple glowing sillhouette superimposed over Jim and Spock; it's an adult whose back is to the viewer and they have their fingers on both Jim and Spock's meld points (thumb on the jaw, pointing finger on the cheekbone and middle finger on the temple). It's the healer that is bonding them. /end image description]

It's a TOS AU for those who love Vulcan culture, sibling relationships, oblivious Jim and queer realisations. Young love friends to lovers! Spock is a darling! Jim is, too, but he's kinda torturing Spock without realising it. Also there's George Kirk who's evil for no reason and some Jewish festivities!

summary:

Jim needs for Bones to stop calling Spock his secret spouse. Yes, they have been bonded since they were seven; yes, Jim is taking an emergency flight to Vulcan to fulfill his bondmate duty; yes, they are going to have sex; no, it’s not weird. It takes Jim about 2.5 days (and 14 years) to start conceding Bones’s point.

check it out on ao3!

[ladykailitha]

Remember how I said I had too many AUs. Well, another one just dropped. I've been working on this one off and on all week not really sure I was going to do anything with it, but last night it became a full -fledged story and not just a plot bunny.

So to prepare you for that, I wrote down the world building so that I don't have to go into detail in the story.

So here you go:

Werewolf Steve and Vampire Eddie (actual title TBA).

The city of Hawkins is one of the few cities in the country that was the home to both a vampire coven and a werewolf pack. It is a safe haven for all supernatural and hunters are forbidden from entering its city limits.

The coven is run by Billy Hargrove. He swept into town with his small vampire family and killed the previous Dominus (leader), taking over the coven. Billy is born vampire, meaning both his parents were vampires who sired him. Max is also born.

Even though it’s called Harrington Pack, the pack leader isn’t hereditary. The leader is always who the strongest male wolf is. The alpha female usually the male’s bondmate but not always. Nancy is the alpha female because of how strong she is and not because she dated Steve in high school. When Hopper was alpha, Joyce was alpha female for example.

This is the largest the pack has been in years. It includes the Hoppers (originally his wife and daughter before his daughter died and his first bondmate left the pack, now him and adopted Jane), the Byers, the Wheelers, the Sinclairs, the Harringtons, and Hendersons. With the Byers and the Hendersons, the dads were banished when it came out they were abusing their family.

Banishment is a mark on the back of the former pack member’s neck that prevents other packs from taking them in or forming a pack of their own. People can willing leave a pack to join another (like getting married or joining a temporary pack when they’re at college away from home), but banishment is a raw deal and used rarely. Hop banished both Lonnie and Mr Henderson, when he came out of his drunken stupor when he adopted Jane.

The Buckleys, Hagens, and Perkins have been long time keepers of the Harrington pack. A keeper is a kind of werewolf version of a vampire’s thrall. Someone who takes care of them when they are in wolf form or can touch silver if they get hurt.

For the most part the wolf form of the pack is like their hair color. Nancy, Mike, and Dustin all have curly fur in wolf form, Mike’s isn’t has bad as the other two though. The exception being the Sinclairs, (their fur isn’t wiry or curly like the other three, it’s just longer and jet black), and Steve. He’s a two-tone wolf. He has warm brown fur on top, but his legs, belly, and tip of his tail are honey colored.

Steve is made head of the Hawkins pack after Hopper was kidnapped by hunters and was reported MPD (missing, presumed dead). He won it through combat a couple of the older wolves tried for the role, but nineteen year old Steve beat them all.

ETA: Full Story here.

Permanent Tag List:

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[marcandreyuri]

also one more: “you’re never alone” + sidgeno

vampire au, soulmate au, the prequel to this

838 words

The bond is new, fragile. Zhenya can practically feel the tendrils of it loosely winding around him and Sidney, binding them together in brilliant golden light, changing them both.

He’s so aware now–the blood of a bondmate rushing through his body, making his vision sharper and body stronger and his heart… for the first time in centuries when he puts his hand to his chest he feels his heart beat.

He stumbles home from the blood bar he and Sasha went to after the game, Sasha crowing about his victory to the entire club, the humans clustered in groups giggling at his antics and vampires heckling him to get off the table, bondmates on their laps with their heads tucked demurely into their vampire’s neck. Sasha did get off, grabbing one of the designated donors and sinking his fangs into her neck as Zhenya sipped his vodka soda.

He feels uncoordinated as he goes up the stairs to his and Sid’s bedroom, and that's another way he's been changed–he gets drunk now, the alcohol mixing deliciously with Sidney’s blood and making Zhenya giggle in the cab the bar made him take.

He can see in the dark as clearly as he can in the light, but the lamp clicks on when he comes into their bedroom, Sid’s little voice sleepily saying, “Zhenya?” as it does.

“It’s me,” Zhenya says and toes off his shoes as he crawls over the blankets so he’s on top of Sidney, feeling his firm body below him.

“Hi,” Sid says slowly. He blinks up at Zhenya as he adjusts to the light. Sid’s been changed by the bond too–his heartbeat slowed after it was infected by Zhenya’s venom, his body temperature dropping too low for humans as Zhenya’s rose–but he still needs his sleep.

“Should get some rest, Sid,” Zhenya says, and he runs his hand over Sidney’s eyes. Sid sends a rush of fondness through the bond, always tingling now in the back of Zhenya’s mind, but he doesn't indulge him and opens his eyes again.

“I can't sleep when you're like that,” Sid says and smiles.

“Like what?”

“All–fizzy,” Sid says and Zhenya searches the bond before he realizes that Sid can feel how drunk he is.

“Maybe you get drunk too,” Zhenya says and sets his teeth against Sid’s throat as Sidney hums in anticipation beneath him, squirming to grind their hips together.

Zhenya smirks against Sid’s skin and asks, “You want?”

“Please,” Sid begs.

“Just give you me,” Zhenya promises, “Not take from you.”

“Please,” Sid whines again, pushing his neck against Zhenya’s mouth.

His fangs descend, and Zhenya bites, not drinking, just letting his venom flow into Sid, letting it take him over until he can feel through the bond Sid getting as venom-drunk as Zhenya is from the shots Sasha made him take.

As he feeds Sidney his venom, he carefully reaches his hand down the front of Sid’s boxers, gripping his half-hard cock and stroking him gently. When he grips tighter, jerking him off harder, Sid thrashes against Zhenya, and he pulls back.

“You bruise,” Zhenya sighs, kissing at the closing bite mark on Sid’s neck, the bruise from bucking against Zhenya’s teeth already forming.

“I like it,” Sidney slurs before gasping as Zhenya thumbs over the slit of his cock, gathering the precome pooling there.

This part of the bond is addictive, feeling Sidney’s pleasure in his own head and sending his back to Sid, an endless loop of lust between them.

After, when Sid’s stomach is messy from his own come and Zhenya’s spilled inside of him and they're laying in their bed together, Sidney puts his hand against Zhenya’s chest.

“I like this too,” he says simply, feeling the beat under his palm and smiling shyly up at Zhenya.

He’s so beautiful–freshly eighteen, new to the league that Zhenya’s been skating in for decades, dark curls and a pouty mouth, smooth skin and hot, sweet blood. Zhenya can't comprehend him sometimes, can't linger on the feelings this little creature inspires. His bondmate, the one he waited centuries for.

“Beats for you,” Zhenya says. He feels a wave of affection sent through their bond, deep and powerful and so Sidney. “Because of you.”

Sid blushes, warm and pink in the lamplight, still venom-drunk.

Mario brought them together. Sidney agreed to the bond three days after getting drafted so he could be faster, stronger, better in every way. But those early days in Zhenya’s den made Sid into something else too, something that blushes long after midnight as Zhenya lets that incomprehensible, overwhelming feeling flood the bond.

“I missed you tonight,” Sid whispers. “Can I come next time? So I’m not alone.”

You're never alone Zhenya thinks, and Sidney gasps.

“Sid?” Zhenya questions.

“I–I could hear you,” Sid says before Zhenya hears in his own mind Sidney’s voice saying In here.

Zhenya feels his eyes go wide before he smiles, pressing his lips to Sidney and feeling the golden tendrils of their bond wrap around his entire body.

[marc--chilton]

Can't stop thinking about the mgv au, specifically about how it would have been when Stacy left House after the infarction and Wilson came to pick the pieces up... 👀

IT WAS SO BAAAAAD. so awful. wilson had already been helping stacy a bit via medical advice (little things she'd worry about that weren't discussed at the hospital regarding home care) so the transition from stacy's caretaking to wilson's was smooth, all things considered. stacy had called wilson to take over because her decision on house's surgery led to house snapping at her constantly, and between her own guilt (she doesn't regret the decision she just hates that it gave house so much grief) and house's abuse afterward, she couldn't take it.

an alpha leaving their ailing omega.... wilson's hindbrain hated stacy for that for a long time. he understood her point of view, but the hindbrain is not ruled by logic. wilson's protectiveness of house started here with a ferocity; he left his own wife home alone to stay with house while he was healing and only left the apartment if truly necessary. if house hadn't been so actively miserable -- not only is he still in pain, but now he has to grapple with the fact he's now disabled, AND stacy's bond to him is withering (in my mgv bonds fading is an uncomfortable process that can have pain in the gland where the mark is located, mood swings, depression, etc) -- it would have driven him crazy how bad wilson's hovering was. as it was though, it really what started twisting their friendship in a strange direction.

house's hindbrain is affected by all this, too. he's bitter and depressed and pissed off but the omega in him is crushed his bondmate abandoned him. if it had its own voice it would be wailing because that's what it felt like inside his head. not good enough/broken omega/alpha decided i'm not worth it

but!! wilson is there and he's an alpha.... and in his time of need? the omega part of house LATCHES onto him as though he imprinted on him. when he would whine and stacy came in to check on him, he would bite her if she came close. not a corrective little nip, but a bite so strong he could feel the bones in her hand grind. but when wilson runs in (yes, RUNS in) house is more receptive to his form of comfort, even when wilson makes it more intimate than strictly necessary (rumbling coos, petting his hair and wiping away pained tears, even calling him honey so tenderly it makes him ache)

wilson doesn't even call bonnie the entire time he's there. he doesn't even think about her until she calls HIM. it's the beginning of the end for them and wilson knows it but house needs him right now so for the time being, he really doesn't care. when he does finally come home to try to spend a night with her and give her some attention, she's so put off by house's scent on him she pushes him away (so wilson just goes back to house's place. because at least there he can sleep on the couch and not have a panic attack worrying that house will fall and hurt himself while wilson's away)

[mychlapci]

Also had thoughts about that mer au and I'm kinda giddy bc a fandom I was into in 2019 had a v similar concept so now I'm borrowing to offer:

The mermechs shouldn't be breeding as fast as they should. In their natural habitat, it's probably every few years they pair up to mate or feel truly comfortable to settle down with clutches or pups. Now they're in an environment that's closed off from predators and most rivals, have consistent food access medical attention and clueless and too terrified caretakers. It's a perfect storm for a breeding frenzy.

Mers that feed their pups ending up with larger, saggier tits, valves are ruined by the so frequent breeding and birthing and sense of self preservation goes out the window. Probably a few start fucking each other's spike sheaths since the valves are no longer right. Maybe the staff have to start fully separating even bonded sets for their own safety, as well as having to do medical repairs on sheaths and slits. But of course the mers can't go cold turkey, so the staff have to get all sorts of things to stuff and distract the mers.

And not everyone is a saint, so it doesn't take long to find out how viable a land and mer mech are for producing offspring

oh holy shit now that’s interesting. Mers suddenly breeding rapidly in facility tanks and research aquariums because they’re constantly fed, safe, and no one bothers them in there...

A mer getting so over-excited to breed that they shove their spike into their partner’s loose valve the moment the last of their pups is out, filling their stretched, worn gestation tank again. Then again, and again, and again. 

A mer that had been bred so much that they’re too fat to swim properly, and they can only drag themself alongside the floor of the tank, their constantly swollen array bruising itself against the rocks and pebbles as they struggle to get to where the food is. In the ocean this wouldn’t be possible, they’d have to keep at least part of their agility to hunt for food and escape danger, but here? In a pretty, filtered tank? What’s stopping them from having more pups? (y'know, maybe at first most facilities didn’t mind the breeding… some, perhaps at the start most of them, would sell the pups and make bank. The mers were kept blissfully unaware, believing their young were sent off to grow up in the wide ocean, as is custom)

hrghhh a mer fucking their partner’s spike sheath because their valve is completely ruined, turned inside out and completely loose after years of endless birthing and breeding. The staff has to constantly repair their merformers because they end up completely used and abused after a while. After repairs all the bondmates have to be separated even though it seems to be taking a toll on their mental wellbeing. But the moment they reconnect them, they attempt to breed again and by now they should have really learnt their lesson, but… instinct wins. Safety, an abundance of food, their beloved partners… it just activates the drive to breed within them automatically. They can't help it. Even if it hurts after a while.

Most facilities now have to figure out how to release their mers back into the wild without fucking the whole ecosystem up.

[dreadfutures]

Hello! :3

you reblogged the prompt list from budding romances, so if you accept any, what about, for Ixchel with whomever you'd like:

i like it when you held onto me. that was nice.

(ignore it if it was just a reblog, of course!)

Thank you!!!

Sebastian x Ixchel from my One Wild And Precious Life AU, after Corypheus, after Solas deals with the Evanuris and falls into uthenera.

Takes place after their escapade in a hollow tree trunk

-:-:-

They have picked out the leaves from their hair and sheepishly turned in their grass-stained breeches to the laundress, and the Tantervale delegation is none the wiser for their antics. Prince Sebastian remains the pious, devoted lord in their eyes; of course, they had searched for him all day, but--had they not thought to search for him in the chapel? He was there praying all afternoon, they should have sent for him! Of course, Ixchel is delighted to know the truth. As she sits in a chaise across from him now, by a hearty fire, she smiles to think of his boyish antics.

There are threads of silver in his hair, and creases at the corners of his eyes and mouth from years of hearty laughter. His children find him to be a good companion still, and so does she, now that they have been put to bed. He seems weary and regal and almost austere, lounging in simple clothes as they enjoy each other's company--to all appearances, he is a proper lord.

She turns her face into her hand to stifle a smile.

"I'd spare a gem to share in your joy, my lady," Sebastian says, propping his cheek on his fist. His eyes gleam at her, as does a hint of a smile. "What has you laughing?"

"You," she says. "Us. This afternoon." Her previous effort to hide the smile has utterly failed, so she turns it wide upon him. "It's good to remember we can run from our duties every now and then."

Sebastian gives a sage nod, his expression fixing itself into a businesslike mask. "Yes indeed. I'm happy to provide the reminder, Lady Inquisitor, anytime you forget."

She laughs at that. Laughter always comes more easily to her when in his presence--and for that alone, she longs to stay by his side. She reins in that almost desperate feeling, however, berating herself for a thousand reasons. It is too soon, and she does not fully know what she wants, and she cannot leave behind this feeling of guilt for finding joy as a widow whose bondmate really wasn't dead in the traditional sense, and --

"Something has chased away your mirth," Sebastian notes in a low voice and so draws her from her reverie. He does not seem to be scolding her, and neither is he inquiring, really, as to the reason for her clouded features. He observed, and then he left it outstretched for her to ignore or address as she pleased.

Her heart aches, pounding in her chest at the kindness of it. The space he affords her to be seen, but without expectation or violation, is something she receives infrequently these days.

The problem is...she doesn't know what exactly to do with it, since she neither knows what she wants nor what she doesn't.

Ixchel collapses a little against her arm, and the arm of the chaise, and lays her brow against her shoulder to hide her face from view.

She considers what it would mean to be honest with him. About what she feels, even though it is a confusing mess. The tangles are all around him, anyway, and it feels right to let him see what trouble he's brewed up for her. Pleasant trouble, but trouble nonetheless.

"As I said this afternoon," Sebastian murmurs, "you may tell me if I am moving too fast."

Ixchel's breath hitches. "It's not you, it's --"

"Please don't say that!" He laughs as he speaks, gently. "Varric will make fun of both of us for being a stereotype."

She wants to laugh, but pain lances through her chest. "Varric is already making fun of me for everything," she admits. "I don't know if it's too fast, Your Majesty. I... It's a lot at once, but I would suffer if you were anything less than wholly earnest with me. It's an honor to receive your affections, and... I don't dislike it. But Varric says I'm terrified of being happy, and he's right."

Her voice has grown thick with an emotion that surprises her for its potency, and she's glad she has hidden her face away.

"Happy is more than I think either of us are entirely capable of," Sebastian says soberly, and the raw edge to his words comforts her in the worst way. She is not the only one who has suffered a loss. Though Sebastian's is somewhat more permanent.

"I try not to strive for something with so much heft," he continues. "I find it helps just to pursue whatever lightens the burdens for the day. Your company accomplishes that, effortlessly, if I may be so honest."

"Ma serranas," Ixchel whispers, overcome.

Sebastian is content to let her sit with his admission, and the silence that follows her thanks. It really is her company that lightens his day; she has felt it, and she feels it now even in the midst of this shared, heavy moment. He needs nothing more than that, and does not ask.

"It really is heavy," she says as, with great effort, she raises her head again. "But... I feel the same. I do."

He returns her shy smile.

"There is something I ask the wee ones before I put them to sleep," he says. "I find it's helped me as much as them, if not more. 'What's one thing you liked about today?' There's always one thing. Some days there's more, but there's always one thing--and that's one reason to try again the next day."

Ixchel nods with a wry edge to her smile. "Ah, yes. I call it evidence. I need evidence to make myself believe things can still be good, or better, even if it feels like nothing is going right. It's the only way I can keep up hope."

Sebastian nods and shifts in his seat, cutting his eyes at her with a look of appraisal. "Exactly," he says. "So what's one thing you liked today, and what are your hopes, Lady Lavellan?"

Ixchel's throat works around the words a bit before she can form them on her tongue, and her face is growing red even before she speaks them. But speak them she does, meeting his gaze with no small amount of trepidation.

"Well... I liked it when you held onto me. That was nice," she says. "And... And I hope it happens again."

If her words impact him, it's difficult to tell, but maybe he goes a little stiff--perhaps restraining himself from a different reaction. His gaze sears her flushed cheeks even further with its intensity, and it takes him a moment to even remember to breathe, it seems. When he can speak again, he sounds winded, rushing like a schoolboy.

"I'd grant that wish now, if that's agreeable to you."

Neither of them move.

Ixchel swallows.

She nods.

"Come here, Ixchel."

Sebastian raises an arm to give room at his side, and she finds herself standing and floating over the short distance between them as if compelled by gravity itself.

His warmth and scent washes over her, cedar and smoke. He settles the pelt across their laps and lays his arm across her shoulders with utmost deliberate care. It is up to her to lean in to his chest, to take the prerogative and lay her head upon his shoulder--and she bravely does.

She is shivering as she closes her eyes and breathes the moment in.

His heart pounds beneath her hand.

"I like this, too," he says softly against her brow.

She turns her face up to him, her eyes still closed in either fear or acceptance.

But when he kisses her, the only thing she feels is peace.

[witchofthesouls]

Tarn isn’t allowed to name the future kids, mostly because the nurse (and the rest of the DJD) have the sinking suspicion (it really isn’t suspicion if their correct, though) that Tarn is gonna either name them after Megatron is some shape or form.

Of course he can't. He's not the sire. Just a donor. There's no relationship. None.

Meanwhile, nearly the entire ship is staring at Tarn going through parenthood and acting more like a bondmate, oblivious or in deep denial about it.

Even the Camien nurse is confused about it, but at this point, is just rolling with it as "Tarn-specific weirdness." You're thinking he wants someone to tell him good job and that he's curious about sparkling development.

... You're not wrong.

[des-no9]

AU where vanquish is 17 instead of 400 to make the age gap with her 15,000 year old bondmate even funnier

never happening bc i jokingly HC Voss thinks anyone below 50 should be thrown off a cliff because annoying "child"

[brandwhorestarscream]

The Cybermorphs AU TFA where the "babies" are Team Prime, Team Rodimus, and Blackarachnia. The Cybermorphs are just looking at the much shrunk and malnourished autobots and techno-organic cybertronian and went "bebe must adopt " the hive ie in a bit of a fugue state and it takes Doctor Nickel half-cybermorph baby(is complicated) found by Praetorian DJD bring sense to them.

Bonus points:

Nickel can back the whole hive down the hall as a minibot.

Strika is Lugnut's converted bondmate

Part of reason for confusion is Bulkhead is Lugnut and Strika's baby so Team Prime smells like Hive

The TFA Autobot society sucks. None of the team even Ratchet should be in adult frames. They all babies except for Prowl(young todler) and Ratchet(older todler)

Yes absolutely

I don't have the brain power to expand on these rn, but to anyone reading this this is all 100000% canon.

Also shakes my fist at tumblr for eating my first answer to this smh the audacity 😤

[philcoulson-redtapeninja]

📝!

Ahha! Get info dumped!

So I'm working on a Top Gun sentinel au and I'm probably doing wayyyy to much world building! Behold my nonsense!

Ice – Guide – Mav's match in more ways than one – didn’t want to get saddled with a sentinel and be shoved in the RIO seat so chose Slider – mental presence probably feels menthol cold, off putting to most but not to Mav~~~

Mav – Sentinel – mid-level – parents were a s/g bonded pair, mother withered after loosing bondmate - Mav wasn't interested in a s/g partnership until goose talked him around

Goose – Mav's 'temp' guide – probably going to stick to canon and let him die, for the angst, or in a goose lives au head injury that either brakes his collarbone/neck from Hop 31 shatters the link between Goose and Mav and they can’t connect again

[Need a group term, maybe Enhanced?]

Sentinel – 5 heightened senses – can zone on a single sense or senses can go haywire – guides are needed to stabilize the senses, like a compass to true north – Sentinels come online

Guide – Heightened empathic senses – mild touch telepaths - need to draw on a sentinel to strengthen mental shields, like a ship's anchor or a trellis to ivy – Guides awaken

Guardian – multiple heightened senses but not all – generally considered weaker than sentinels – don’t need a guide but guides are helpful for control

Empath - empathically active but not quiet on the level of guides

People are drawn to sentinels and guides for different reasons.

People are instinctively drawn to sentinels and guardians in times of danger; unconsciously looking to the strongest or most senior sentinel for leadership.

People are [empathetically?psychically?] drawn to guides and empaths, generally finding them to be good listeners and generally attractive? idk but look a Blair, he's gettin' it.

Generally, you can’t tell a sentinel or guide from the outside, unless you are also a sentinel or guide, so sentinels and guardians are supposed to wear a black bracer or bracelet with 1-5 colored pips indicated how many heightened senses(like a medical alert bracelet) and guides are supposed to wear pale bracer or bracelet. Its not illegal to not wear it, but its considered good form and important for EMS. Bond statues and type marked as a border on the bracer or bracelet

More likely to find sentinels in service(would more top gun level pilots/rio be s/g pairs?). Traditionally, guides follow their sentinel into service branches or jobs

Sentinel-Guide Centers - most towns have one, some cities have more than one - volunteer staffed both by sentinels and guides and normal people living in the territory - have isolation rooms for both enhanced senses and empathic burn out

Territories – higher level sentinels tend to have regions that are considered 'their territory' - this also happens when a sentinel has stayed in an area for a long period of time – Sentinels declare an area as their territory with the city/county and their regional Sentinel-Guide Center – any sentinels or guardians moving into the territory are required to send notice – guides tend to send notice too, but its mostly out of being polite

Tribes - Sentinels and Guides living or working in the same area for more than a year generally form tribes or prides(both terms are used) - generally led by the strongest and/or most senior pair [called the Alphas?] - tends to have a pecking order. {Viper is tribe leader at Miramar and Jack O'Neil is the reluctant pride leader at the SGC}

Doggy politics - when you get a bunch of Sentinels together they tend to squabbling until they sort out a pecking order - sometimes its little contests or wrestling, sometimes is physical fights - traditionalists believe that needs to be a firm hierarchy generally settled by brute strength - bad tribe leaders are known to be very aggressive when setting themselves at the top of the hierarchy and encourage in-fighting - there isn't actually a word for the squabbling, non-sentinels tend to look down on it and some sentinels aren't terribly keen on it either – the squabbles are more endemic to civilian tribes as military or police prides already have ranks

Types of bonds

Temporary: not actually a bond, more an empathic impression that helps Guides work with Sentinels and vice-versa, like a well traveled path

Emergency: one sided bonds made in times of emergency, generally with one party being not fully conscious, separation of the two parties involved with cause the bond to dissolve

probably some tba

Full: permanent bond that can't be dissolved or broken except through death, the Guide imprints psychically and works the Sentinel into their mental barriers and the Sentinel imprints the Guide into their senses, psychic link can pass impressions back and forth, generally death of one leads to the withering and eventual death of the other

[stobinesque]

WIP Weekend!

Tagged by @steves-strapcollection, thank you!!

THE RULES

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

WIPs

wigwag (phryctoria sequel)

Wayfinder (S4 Fix-it, Lucas POV)

Stobin Soulmate AU

(I still have asks in my inbox for Jeff is Steve's Bi Awakening so I'll probably throw some answers to those in the mix)

(absolutely no pressure!) tagging @xenon-demon, @devondespresso, @hellsfireclub, @steventhusiast, and anyone else who wants to do it!

SNIPPET

from the Stobin Soulmate AU

It’s like watching a high wire balancing act. Maybe. She isn't sure why that exact metaphor is the one that comes to her. There’s just something about the delicate way they dance around each other that has the quality of an aerialist's graceful maneuvering to avoid plummeting to their death.

Dance isn't her thing the same way music is, but watching the three of them makes her want to choreograph.

There’s Nancy, slowly pirouetting down center stage as Steve enters upstage left and sweeps his gaze across the field. Robin wants so badly to compare that gaze to a predator's: stealthy and sly, waiting for attack—a lion searching for a gazelle. But there’s always something cautious in his gaze. Like he’s afraid of taking one wrong step.

Then there’s Jonathan, who hovers just past the edges of the wings stage right, before flitting back and forth across the stage, almost directionless. And as the days and weeks pass he becomes a distant, looping orbit around the other two. Never close enough to touch, but somehow corralling them towards each other, until Nancy and Steve are locked in a stilted sort of duet with one another, with Jonathan circling and watching from afar until he returns to his starting position halfway in the wings. Waiting.

She still doesn’t know why she’s so captivated by these three. Something had pushed her out towards the Byers house that night, and it was easy to think it was the soulmate bond. Except that narrowed her bondmate down to three potential options, and only one of them was even close to viable. But she can’t bring herself to accept that Nancy Wheeler is her soulmate.  

[essayofthoughts]

Either Soulmate AU or tiefling AU, please? 🥺

Tief AU has already been asked for and I may or may not have written a whole new chapter for it so I shall give you a soulmate snip! How does finding out about how gods can fuck with bonds sound to you?

--

"But-" Vax pauses. "You said you're married. Don't you have a bond to the-"

"I was betrothed to her before I could walk," Kashaw says. "I wasn't ever allowed a bond that wasn't whatever way I was bound to her."

Thorbir looks like he's just drunk curdled milk. Tiberius, if anything, looks confused.

"But she didn't bond you to her?" Vax asks. "You said she's a god, surely she can-"

"She's of death," Kashaw says and even Keyleth can tell he's biting the words out now. This is like Vex and Percy, then - something he doesn't want to speak of... except that he keeps going, as though he refuses to let his discomfort stop him. "She can't make bonds, that's beyond Her power. She can break them easily enough but not- and I refused to."

Vax just looks confused, but Keyleth thinks she understands at least somewhat. To Vax, fate's bonds are everything to him, giving him his people and his place. At every turn, Kashaw's been denied his.

"My mom's bondmate broke their bond," she says into the quiet. "They never spoke a word to her. And Dad's bond just never really became anything? It never formed. And when they got married they decided they'd lived long enough without bonds that forging one anew between them would just be weird so they didn't." She shrugs. "It'd probably have been easier if they had - we'd know where she went or if she was still alive even. But... mom's cut the bond. Dad didn't get one for whatever reason. And after that the idea of wanting one..."

She trails off unsure of how to finish. Luckily she doesn't have to: into the quiet Kashaw heaves a surprised laugh.

"Jeez sunshine. And here I thought you'd be the optimist."

She frowns at that, somewhere between offended and confused.

"I am an optimist," she says. "But what's... good, or best or better for people isn't always a bond. Especially if it's caused them hurt before. And that- that you've gone through that and made that choice and you still care enough to be a cleric who believes in life - aren't you an optimist too?"

"Not really," Kashaw says with a shrug. "I'm life because She's death. She'd have eaten me alive otherwise."

There really isn't much she can say to that.

--