#can we normalize muzzles

[citrine-elephant]

change of plans. leon's getting a muzzle and a leash and we're taking him to the dog park

[yesornopolls]

The article is under the cut because paywalls suck

This is an edited transcript of an audio essay on “The Ezra Klein Show.” You can listen to the conversation by following or subscribing to the show on the NYT Audio App, Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts.

If you want to understand the first few weeks of the second Trump administration, you should listen to what Steve Bannon told PBS’s “Frontline” in 2019:

Steve Bannon: The opposition party is the media. And the media can only, because they’re dumb and they’re lazy, they can only focus on one thing at a time. … All we have to do is flood the zone. Every day we hit them with three things. They’ll bite on one, and we’ll get all of our stuff done. Bang, bang, bang. These guys will never — will never be able to recover. But we’ve got to start with muzzle velocity. So it’s got to start, and it’s got to hammer, and it’s got to — Michael Kirk: What was the word? Bannon: Muzzle velocity.

Muzzle velocity. Bannon’s insight here is real. Focus is the fundamental substance of democracy. It is particularly the substance of opposition. People largely learn of what the government is doing through the media — be it mainstream media or social media. If you overwhelm the media — if you give it too many places it needs to look, all at once, if you keep it moving from one thing to the next — no coherent opposition can emerge. It is hard to even think coherently.

Donald Trump’s first two weeks in the White House have followed Bannon’s strategy like a script. The flood is the point. The overwhelm is the point. The message wasn’t in any one executive order or announcement. It was in the cumulative effect of all of them. The sense that this is Trump’s country now. This is his government now. It follows his will. It does what he wants. If Trump tells the state to stop spending money, the money stops. If he says that birthright citizenship is over, it’s over.

Or so he wants you to think. In Trump’s first term, we were told: Don’t normalize him. In his second, the task is different: Don’t believe him.

Trump knows the power of marketing. If you make people believe something is true, you make it likelier that it becomes true. Trump clawed his way back to great wealth by playing a fearsome billionaire on TV; he remade himself as a winner by refusing to admit he had ever lost. The American presidency is a limited office. But Trump has never wanted to be president, at least not as defined in Article II of the U.S. Constitution. He has always wanted to be king. His plan this time is to first play king on TV. If we believe he is already king, we will be likelier to let him govern as a king.

Don’t believe him. Trump has real powers — but they are the powers of the presidency. The pardon power is vast and unrestricted, and so he could pardon the Jan. 6 rioters. Federal security protection is under the discretion of the executive branch, and so he could remove it from Anthony Fauci and Mike Pompeo and John Bolton and Mark Milley and even Brian Hook, a largely unknown former State Department official under threat from Iran who donated time to Trump’s transition team. It was an act of astonishing cruelty and callousness from a man who nearly died by an assassin’s bullet — as much as anything ever has been, this, to me, was an X-ray of the smallness of Trump’s soul — but it was an act that was within his power.

But the president cannot rewrite the Constitution. Within days, the birthright citizenship order was frozen by a judge — a Reagan appointee — who told Trump’s lawyers, “I have difficulty understanding how a member of the bar would state unequivocally that this is a constitutional order. It just boggles my mind.” A judge froze the spending freeze before it was even scheduled to go into effect, and shortly thereafter, the Trump administration rescinded the order, in part to avoid the court case.

What Bannon wanted — what the Trump administration wants — is to keep everything moving fast. Muzzle velocity, remember. If you’re always consumed by the next outrage, you can’t look closely at the last one. The impression of Trump’s power remains; the fact that he keeps stepping on rakes is missed. The projection of strength obscures the reality of weakness. Don’t believe him.

You could see this a few ways: Is Trump playing a part, making a bet or triggering a crisis? Those are the options. I am not certain he knows the answer. Trump has always been an improviser. But if you take it as calculated, here is the calculation: Perhaps this Supreme Court, stocked with his appointees, gives him powers no peacetime president has ever possessed. Perhaps all of this becomes legal now that he has asserted its legality. It is not impossible to imagine that bet paying off.

But Trump’s odds are bad. So what if the bet fails and his arrogations of power are soundly rejected by the courts? Then comes the question of constitutional crisis: Does he ignore the court’s ruling? To do that would be to attempt a coup. I wonder if they have the stomach for it. The withdrawal of the Office of Management and Budget’s order to freeze spending suggests they don’t. Bravado aside, Trump’s political capital is thin. Both in his first and second terms, he has entered office with approval ratings below that of any president in the modern era. Gallup has Trump’s approval rating at 47 percent — about 10 points beneath Joe Biden’s in January 2021.

There is a reason Trump is doing all of this through executive orders rather than submitting these same directives as legislation to pass through Congress. A more powerful executive could persuade Congress to eliminate the spending he opposes or reform the civil service to give himself the powers of hiring and firing that he seeks. To write these changes into legislation would make them more durable and allow him to argue their merits in a more strategic way. Even if Trump’s aim is to bring the civil service to heel — to rid it of his opponents and turn it to his own ends — he would be better off arguing that he is simply trying to bring the high-performance management culture of Silicon Valley to the federal government. You never want a power grab to look like a power grab.

But Republicans have a three-seat edge in the House and a 53-seat majority in the Senate. Trump has done nothing to reach out to Democrats. If Trump tried to pass this agenda as legislation, it would most likely fail in the House, and it would certainly die before the filibuster in the Senate. And that would make Trump look weak. Trump does not want to look weak. He remembers John McCain humiliating him in his first term by casting the deciding vote against Obamacare repeal.

That is the tension at the heart of Trump’s whole strategy: Trump is acting like a king because he is too weak to govern like a president. He is trying to substitute perception for reality. He is hoping that perception then becomes reality. That can only happen if we believe him.

The flurry of activity is meant to suggest the existence of a plan. The Trump team wants it known that they’re ready this time. They will control events rather than be controlled by them. The closer you look, the less true that seems. They are scrambling and flailing already. They are leaking against one another already. We’ve learned, already, that the O.M.B. directive was drafted, reportedly, without the input or oversight of key Trump officials — “it didn’t go through the proper approval process,” an administration official told The Washington Post. For this to be the process and product of a signature initiative in the second week of a president’s second term is embarrassing.

But it’s not just the O.M.B. directive. The Trump administration is waging an immediate war on the bureaucracy, trying to replace the “deep state” it believes hampered it in the first term. A big part of this project seems to have been outsourced to Elon Musk, who is bringing the tactics he used at Twitter to the federal government. He has longtime aides at the Office of Personnel Management, and the email sent to nearly all federal employees even reused the subject line of the email he sent to Twitter employees: “Fork in the Road.” Musk wants you to know it was him.

The email offers millions of civil servants a backdoor buyout: Agree to resign and in theory, at least, you can collect your paycheck and benefits until the end of September without doing any work. The Department of Government Efficiency account on X described it this way: “Take the vacation you always wanted, or just watch movies and chill, while receiving your full government pay and benefits.” The Washington Post reported that the email “blindsided” many in the Trump administration who would normally have consulted on a notice like that.

I suspect Musk thinks of the federal work force as a huge mass of woke ideologues. But most federal workers have very little to do with politics. About 16 percent of the federal work force is in health care. These are, for instance, nurses and doctors who work for the Veterans Affairs department. How many of them does Musk want to lose? What plans does the V.A. have for attracting and training their replacements? How quickly can he do it?

The Social Security Administration has more than 59,000 employees. Does Musk know which ones are essential to operations and unusually difficult to replace? One likely outcome of this scheme is that a lot of talented people who work in nonpolitical jobs and could make more elsewhere take the lengthy vacation and leave government services in tatters. Twitter worked poorly after Musk’s takeover, with more frequent outages and bugs, but its outages are not a national scandal. When V.A. health care degrades, it is. To have sprung this attack on the civil service so loudly and publicly and brazenly is to be assured of the blame if anything goes wrong.

What Trump wants you to see in all this activity is command. What is really in all this activity is chaos. They do not have some secret reservoir of focus and attention the rest of us do not. They have convinced themselves that speed and force is a strategy unto itself — that it is, in a sense, a replacement for a real strategy. Don’t believe them.

I had a conversation a couple months ago with someone who knows how the federal government works about as well as anyone alive. I asked him what would worry him most if he saw Trump doing it. What he told me is that he would worry most if Trump went slowly. If he began his term by doing things that made him more popular and made his opposition weaker and more confused. If he tried to build strength for the midterms while slowly expanding his powers and chipping away at the deep state where it was weakest.

But he didn’t. And so the opposition to Trump, which seemed so listless after the election, is beginning to rouse itself.

There is a subreddit for federal employees where one of the top posts reads: “This non ‘buyout’ really seems to have backfired. I’ll be honest, before that email went out, I was looking for any way to get out of this fresh hell. But now I am fired up to make these goons as frustrated as possible.” As I write this, it’s been upvoted more than 39,000 times and civil servant after civil servant is echoing the initial sentiment.

In Iowa this week, Democrats flipped a State Senate seat in a district that Trump won easily in 2024. The attempted spending freeze gave Democrats their voice back, as they zeroed in on the popular programs Trump had imperiled. Trump isn’t building support; he’s losing it. Trump isn’t fracturing his opposition; he’s uniting it.

This is the weakness of the strategy that Bannon proposed and Trump is following. It is a strategy that forces you into overreach. To keep the zone flooded, you have to keep acting, keep moving, keep creating new cycles of outrage or fear. You overwhelm yourself. And there’s only so much you can do through executive orders. Soon enough, you have to go beyond what you can actually do. And when you do that, you either trigger a constitutional crisis or you reveal your own weakness.

Trump may not see his own fork in the road coming. He may believe he has the power he is claiming. That would be a mistake on his part — a self-deception that could doom his presidency. But the real threat is if he persuades the rest of us to believe he has power he does not have.

The first two weeks of Trump’s presidency have not shown his strength. He is trying to overwhelm you. He is trying to keep you off-balance. He is trying to persuade you of something that isn’t true. Don’t believe him.

You can listen to this conversation by following “The Ezra Klein Show” on NYT Audio App, Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts. View a list of book recommendations from our guests here.

[since-times-long-forgotten]

I am here to interject, because I do believe that's blue and red! Here are more pictures, taken from this post (has a video as well) and the owner/source.

Hi hello it's me again! This time I've stumbled upon a cat that I cannot figure out.

So I was scrolling on Instagram as a bedrotter does and I came across this kitty:

And at first I thought, "oh wow that's a really pretty torbie!" And then I looked closer and got confused because the non ginger part of the cat does NOT look like regular ol black. Any thoughts on what this kitty actually is?

Torbie! :3 it's not regular black bc they're a tabby lol, they're brown.

she's also super low-rufousing, which has thrown people off into calling them a chimera like "YOU CANT HAVE A BLUE & GINGER TORTIE 8O" and it's like,... that's not a blue/ginger tortie. that's just a brown tabby LOL. the stripes are black. she doesn't look even remotely close to gray.

great example of blue eyes on low-white tho! I'm not 100% sure hwo much of the face is rufous vs piebald (I wanna say piebald from the sharpness but it's in a rufoused pattern so rufousing is safer) - but look at her paws! :3

[lesservillain]

alpha!steddie x omega!reader Part Two. summary: after some disappointing news, you start to question your role in this whole situation. also lots of sex cw: SMUT. omegaverse and everything that comes with it. lots of cum, "public sex", mmf, dvp, breeding kink, free use, eddie wears a muzzle, feral eddie an: sorry this took so long! enjoy a lot of must to make up for it.

“Well, she’s not pregnant.”

Steve folds in his chair, face landing in the palms of his hands as he audibly sighs. Eddie shifts next to you in his seat, his knee landing on top of your thigh as he crosses his legs. You chance a look up him. His expression seems fairly neutral, not that he should really be surprised by the news anyway.

After a long two week waiting period, you’d spent the last 4 days waking up and taking a test. You’d wait the allotted time and then, with shaking hands, you’d flip the testing strip over, only to find it negative once again. Every time you’d tell yourself that it was just too early and that you’d try again tomorrow. 

Any minuscule change you’d notice in your body had you wanting to rush back into the bathroom again just to check. A little nausea, slight pain in your breasts. Was that an implantation cramp? You didn’t even know what an implantation cramp was until you’d read over the book on pregnancy Steve picked up for you on his way home the week after your cycle. The two of you took turns reading it, discussing whatever contents the book went over during dinner while Eddie did his best to understand what you were talking about.

So when you finally broke it to them earlier this morning that you’d been testing negative, Steve called the doctor right away to get you in as soon as possible. Even if he was trying to hide it, you could still see the sadness in his eyes. His disappointment continued to hang in the air of the small four walled room of the fertility clinic.

“I’m sorry to deliver bad news, but I wouldn’t fret too much.” The doctor who was assisting the three of you in this arrangement was a small, older omega woman. She’d been assisting couples since before you were born and you were able to tell by your first appointment with her that she really knew her stuff.

“Even normal alpha and omega couples can take more that one try to conceive. And the three of you have several factors against you.” She looks at each of you. 

“None of you are bonded for starters.” She flips through some paperwork on her clipboard, eyes scanning the page as she talks. “I know that you all are choosing a more…traditional method rather than doing any kind of insemination.”

Steve lift his head from his hands, “There’s no way our insurance would have covered any of it if we--”

“I know, Mr.Harrington. Let me finish.” The doctor says with a slow nod.

“Sorry,” Steve says, shrinking back a bit.

“I’m not here to judge, and, honestly, you’re better off doing what you’re doing. But, I just have some questions I want to ask, to make sure that you’re not doing anything that may make this take longer than necessary. Is that alright?”

Steve nods, and when the doctor looks to you and Eddie over her glasses, you both nod as well.

“Good. Now, are both of you taking part in this process or just one of you?” 

“Both.” Steve and Eddie say simultaneously. The doctor nods, “Okay, and are both of you knotting at the completion of intercourse?”

Heat rises to your cheeks at the question. You know it’s part of the process, but talking about your sex practices with another person makes you want to disappear into the wall behind you.

“Yeah, I have been,” Eddie responds, almost gloating thought you’re not sure if he’s aware of it in his tone. “Almost every time.”

“Really?” The doctor raises an eyebrow at him before shifting her gaze over to Steve. “And you?”

Steve shifts, visibly uncomfortable. “I did once.” 

The doctor looks at him for a moment before writing something down on her clipboard.

“Well,” she starts, “I understand knotting can be a different experience for each alpha. Usually it’s harder for an alpha to prevent one rather than having troubles achieving one…”

Steve leans forward, waving his hands dismissively. “That’s not--Jesus, I’m not having a problem with knotting. I’m just not…I’m not letting it latch. I’m…I’m pulling out.”

The doctor gives Steve a “what the fuck” look, and you can hear Eddie trying to contain a giggle under his breath. 

“Mr.Harrington, I don’t really understand how you think that’s going to help your situation.: The doctor sighs, “But, it only takes one sperm to impregnate an egg, and it seems Mr.Munson is more than willing to make up for your reluctance.”

Steve rolls his eyes, sitting back in the chair with a huff. You place a hand on his leg as a reassuring gesture. He looks down at you, still clearly upset. But after a moment, a small smile tugs on his lips, and his hand comes down to rest on top of yours. 

You barely register the way Eddie’s body moves closer to yours when the doctor addresses you directly. You sit up straight, giving her your undivided attention as she asks you a series of questions about your heat cycles and if you’re taking your vitamins. She writes several notes on her clipboard, giving small nods and hums of acknowledgment as you talk.

“Good, good. Everything sounds like they are going as they should. I suspect that your body most likely just needed some time to adjust to being off of your heat suppressants. Sometimes it can take a month or two for an omega to be fully fertile again. But once they body is back in it’s natural state, omegas tend to get pregnant almost immediately.”

Steve’s hand squeezed yours lightly. 

“One to two months?” Eddie asked, eyes narrowed as he looked at the older woman. 

“Yes? Is that a problem?”

“It’s not necessarily a problem,” he starts, leaning forward a bit in his seat, his hand resting on your knee. “But, what if we go another cycle and end up in this same situation next month?”

Steve looks at Eddie for the first time since you all arrived. You’re pretty sure they’d been talking about you not being pregnant while you were getting ready for the appointment. They seemed oddly distant since you came down and found them not talking to each other in the kitchen.

“Well, there are some things we can do to try an increase your odds for her next cycle. Tell me, when are the two of you due to go into rut?”

“I should have one in about 3 weeks, but Eddie’s not due for a month and a half.”

“I see. And you’re due for another heat here in the next week, correct?”

You nod, “Tuesday or Wednesday is what I’m predicting.” 

The doctor hums, then pushes herself on her stool to the little counter top on the other side of the room. She grabs a pad and pen from a drawer and starts writing, tearing the top one off and writing again on the next. Once she tears the second slip, she wheels back over to the three of you, handing Steve and Eddie each a prescription slip with their names on it.

“These are prescriptions for inducers. Go get them filled today, but don’t take them until Monday. They take about 24 hours to kick in, so by Tuesday evening both of you should be in full rut. If you need notes for work let me know and I can write them for you.”

“They have drugs that do that?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve.

Steve shakes his head. “Wait a minute. I get why you’re giving us these, but…doesn’t it seem unsafe for us both to be rutting around her. Especially if she’s going to be in heat?”

The doctor eyes Steve. “Depends on what you’re worried about happening? She’s not your mate so you’re not competing over her. Sure, you’ll be more ‘feral’ for lack of a better word, but the two of you will still know who the other is. Unless you’ve already had issues…”

Steve looks at Eddie with a knowing look, making him curl in on himself a bit bashfully. “I guess you could say we’ve run into some unexpected road bumps.” The doctor looks at all three of you with a suspicious look before shaking her head.

“Okay,” she says with exasperation, taking her glasses off and tucking them in her pocket. “So what exactly are you worried about? Fighting? Trying to mark her? Self control issues?” Steve and Eddie nod in unison and the doctor sighs once more, muttering something about alphas under her breath. 

“If you’re worried about fighting,” she says, counting with her fingers,” I would suggest staying in separate parts of the house. Designate times between the two of you to be with her and try to keep interactions with all three of you to a minimum.” A second finger. “If you’re worried about marking her…well there’s always mouth guards like athletes wear. Or you could always get a muzzle. I think ones from the pet store would be the most reliable.”

The mental image of Eddie and Steve in a muzzle made you feel a type of way that you didn’t want to explore in this doctors office right now, so you tuck that into your mind for later.

“And if you’re worried about self control…well, that’s something the three of you will have to figure out on your own. Maybe buy a leash at the pet store as well.” The doctor rises from her chair, barely standing much taller as she shakes all of your hands. 

“Hopefully when I see all three of you again we will be having a different discussion. Until then, if you have any questions, try and contact one of my nurses instead.”

“I’m not wearing a damn muzzle, Eddie.”

Steve stands with his arms crossed at the end of the aisle as you and Eddie look at the different size dog muzzles. Eddie crouches down, holding his hair back as you place the different sizes and shapes over his face to find one that he finds comfortable.

“How about this one?” You ask, placing one of the small rubber pieces over his mouth. Eddie looks at you for a moment, then pretends to lunge at you like a rabid dog, making you jump back in surprise. “Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You shout at him, followed by a fit of giggles. He puts and arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him as he laughs.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “Try it again, please.”

Without warning you push the muzzle against his face and snap it shut behind his head. He looks at you with surprise, leaving you to step back to get a better look. 

“What do you think, Steve?” You glance over your shoulder to find a very amused Steve eyeing his husband with a raised brow.

“I think it looks great,” he says with a sarcastic lit. “Maybe you should wear it all the time.”

“Awe, don’t be like that, Stevie,” Eddie says with a look of innocence. “How am I gonna suck you off if I have this thing on all the time?” Steve falters for a moment, but regains his composure quickly. 

“I think I can manage.” Steve’s gaze lands on you for a barely there moment. One that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t already looking at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want one of these? Ya know you can get a little grumpy during your ruts?”

Steve tenses. “That’s because…” A hand runs through Steve’s hair. “Nevermind. You guys finish up here. I’m gonna run next door and check on our meds.” Without another word Steve is out the door. Eddie shakes his head before reaching behind it to unbuckle the muzzle. 

“Eddie?” You look up at him with sad eyes. He’s at your side in an instant, hands on your shoulders as he looks at you with concern. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Is Steve…are…are you guys mad at me?”

Eddie reels back as if you’ve asked the most offensive question he’s ever heard. 

“What? W—of course not! Why do you think that?”

“I mean, I’m not pregnant, so that would be one reason…”

Eddie steps to the side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in for a side hug. His embrace melts away at your anxiousness. He’s warm against you, soothing, even through your layers of clothes. 

“We’re not mad at you about that, okay?” He shakes your arm lightly, urging you to look up at him. “Obviously we knew that it might not work on the first try. Did we want it to? Sure. But that doesn’t mean we’d be upset or blame you for it.”

“But Steve…” you bite your lower lip, “he just seems so…off today.” Eddie sighs, letting arm fall from your shoulder and back to his side.

“Steve’s just…he’s a little overwhelmed with work right now. So much happened at his job the last week we took off to, well, you know. I guess someone made an error in some documentation or something and he’s been playing catch up ever since.”

You frown. You had no idea that Steve was going through so much burden at work. He must be a master at not bringing his work issues home with him, always coming through the door with a smile on his face. Him and Eddie seemed to be fine, too. And, despite your worry of it begin awkward after finally sleeping together, you all got along like everything was fine. “Wow, I-I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, he didn’t want to have you fussing over him about it. He’s probably more worried about having to take another week off than you not being pregnant.”

You nod. Something about Steve not telling you about him being so stressed makes your heart ache. A little voice in your mind is telling you to go find him and comfort him. A little voice that you’ve been noticing ever since you moved in with Steve and Eddie. 

It’s almost like you can sense their distress, but it seems to be stronger with Eddie than with Steve. Though, Eddie does wear his heart on his sleeve and likes it when you dote on him, especially when he comes home with a new cut or bruise and you insist on treating it. If you try and bring anything up with Steve, he just brushes it off and changes the subject.

“Hey, we gotta pay for this!”

Eddie’s voice pulls you from your mind. At some point you had grabbed Eddie’s hand and started to leave the pet store, him stopping you just at the threshold.

“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“You guys are still in here?”

You snap around to find Steve right in front of you, a plastic bag in on hand as he holds the door open with the other.

“We’re about to check out,” Eddie says, pulling you towards the line. But you can’t keep your eyes off of Steve. Every stress line on his face becomes painfully obvious to you and all you want to do is smooth them out for him. You guess this is why he didn’t want to tell you. But when had you become someone who gets so upset by things like this?

“Shit.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat, as the three of you pull up to the house.

“What’s wrong?” You ask from the back seat, leading around to try and see what Steve was worried about.

“Did you tell me Robin was coming over and I forgot?” Eddie asks Steve, nodding towards an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Stave nods, running a hand down his face.

“I told her we would go out with her and Vicki for drinks when they were back in town. I guess I’ve been so preoccupied that I forgot that was today.”

“Okay…well that shouldn’t be a problem…” Eddie says slowly, pulling up next to the car and putting it in park. “But with the way you’re talking, you’re making it sound like it’s a problem.”

Steve huffs out a frustrated sigh, his head rolling to the side to look at Eddie.

“I haven’t…They don’t know about…” Steve’s gestures back to you. Eddie’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open in shock.

“You didn’t tell them about…Wait, do they even know we were doing any of this?” Eddie’s hands move wildly as he talks.

“I told them we had been talking more about kids, but I didn’t tell them exactly how we were intending on having them.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie huffs, rolling his eyes. “So we have to walk in there and say ‘oh, hey guys, nice to see you. By the way, this is the girl we’re fucking so we can have a baby.’”

You tried really hard to keep it in, but a snort escapes you and catched both men’s attention. They both look back at you as you cover your mouth with your hand, waving the other defensively.

“I’m sorry,” you say through giggles. “It’s not funny, but I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell your friends. We’re you just going to hide me in my room for 9 months or something?”

“No, no!” Both of them start talking over each other and it only makes you laugh more.

After you reassure them that you didn’t actually think they were going to hide you away, the three of you came up with a quick game plan on how to explain things to Robin and Vicki.  It was funny to see the two of them nervous to enter their own home. You could feel the nerves rolling off of both of them as they stepped inside. 

You caught a glimpse of Robin, who you’d seen in pictures around the house, sitting at the island. Her eyes were on the TV, mindlessly scooping chips into your home made salsa before she noticed you all come in. 

“There you guys are!” Robin scoots off of her seat and comes bounding towards Steve and Eddie, wrapping her arms around the both of them. You couldn’t smell her, but you could tell she was an alpha by the way she carried herself. Tall, with piercing eyes and a sureness about her that told you she could go toe to toe with someone if they messed with her. She was beautiful enough that she could be a model if she wanted to; someone who belonged on a magazine cover.

A smaller, mousier girl rounded the corner. Her curious eyes met yours instantly, and you quickly clocked her as a fellow omega. “Hey guys, who’s you’re friend?”

Robin takes a step back and peers around Steve until her eyes meet yours as well. “Woah, I didn’t even see you there.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You introduce yourself, and look over to Eddie and Steve to take care of the rest.

“Um, Bobbie, Vicki, we, uh…” Steve starts out confident but falters as he starts to overthink everything.

“This is our surrogate!” Eddie accidentally shouts, startling you and Vicki. Robin’s jaw practically hits the floor, eyes darting back and fourth between the two men before landing on you.

“Wait, so you’re pregnant? Who’s is it? Did you guys do like a russian roulette thing or did they like mix your swimmers together and shoot them up her--”

“Robin!” Steve steps forward with his hands up, clearly distressed as Eddie practically keels over with how hard he’s laughing.

“Hi, I’m Vicki.” Her voice pulls you from the commotion in front of you. You take her soft hand in yours and give her a small smile.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you guys since I’ve been here.”

“Oh? Do-do you live here?” Her head tilts with confusion. You nod, your confirmation somehow catching Robin’s attention.

“Wait, she lives here?”

“Yes, she lives here,” Steve says, backing up to address the room. He gestures to you, “And she’s not pregnant. We just got back from the doctor to confirm it.”

“Awe,” Robin pouts, “I’m sorry. I just heard surrogate and assumed she was already pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully that’ll change here soon.”

“That’s so exciting though!” Vicki claps her hands together excitedly. “A little baby Steve or Eddie running around here.”

“Oh, god,” Robin laughs, “Which reminds me that you didn’t answer my question. How are you doing the dad thing?”

“Maybe we should go sit in the living room, then we can give you all the juicy details,” Eddie says, opening his arms to herd everyone into the other room.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“Robin--” 

“No, sorry, that was a rhetorical what.”

Robin and Vicki sit across from the couch you’re sharing with Steve and Eddie, who just explained to them the basics of your arrangement. Vicki, though confused at times, seemed to be doing her best to understand the dynamic of your situation. Robin, however, listened the whole time with an open mouth smile as if she’s not heard a better story in her life.

“I’m just…I don’t know. Like obviously I’m happy for you guys. Do,” She looks at you with wiggly brows as she says “do”, “whatever works for you.�� She pauses for a moment to look up at the ceiling before looking back down. “Can I ask you a question though?”

“Robin,” Steve growls, and you feel both boys subtly move closer to you. 

“Guys, it’s okay. Seriously.” You scoot util you’re sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning away from them. “Ask away.”

“Thank you,” Robin says, shooting Steve and Eddie a look. “I’m just curious about what you’re getting out of this. Sure, they’re taking care of you now, and they’ll take care of you until the baby is born. Then they get the baby and live happily ever after…But what about you? Like, you’re just going to go through something super traumatic and beautiful…and then you’re going to leave?”

You’re taken aback a bit by the question. It was all lined out in the contract that you’d give birth and then your role would be complete. What else was there to do? You’d hope that they’d maybe let you recover a bit before finding your own place, but they weren’t obligated to. 

But the more you think about it, the more you actually hate the idea of not being around them.

“She’s going to stay here with us until she feels comfortable enough on her own.” Eddie speaks up after a tense silence took over the room.

“I get that, but, like, are you guys going to stay in contact? Is she going to stick around and play nanny to her own kid?”

“Robin.” Steve stands up abruptly, throwing everyone off guard. “I need to talk to you in private. Please.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to look out for all of you--”

“Please.” You feel yourself shutter as the air in the room shifts. You feel Eddie flinch, and Robin’s jaw snaps shut. She stands up without another word and the two of them head out the back door, leaving you to feel awkward with Eddie and Vicki.

“So,” Vicki finally says after a moment, “How’s the shop going Eddie?”

The two of them talk like old friends, doing their best to add you into the conversation so you feel included. At some point, Eddie put his arm around your shoulders on the back of the couch, his knee resting on top of your leg like it had earlier at the doctor’s office. 

“Nothing alcoholic for you I’m guessing?” Robin leans into you so you can hear her over the loud music of the bar. 

“I mean, I’m not pregnant, so it’s okay, right?”

She shrugs at you, “I guess you better ask the dingus’s if it’s okay.”

Steve and Eddie stood a few feet away talking to each other about something you couldn’t hear. Hopping down from your seat, you walk over to them, their conversation coming to an end as soon as you get close enough.

“Everything okay?” You shout.

“Yeah, fine,” Eddie says in a clipped tone, turning his body completely away from Steve to face you. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Robin wants to know if it’s okay if I have a drink. I know I’m not pregnant but I figured I’d ask.” Steve looks at Eddie, then at you, frustration written all over his face.

“As long as it’s not going to affect your heat,” Steve shrugs before walking away. Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” you say to him. 

“It’s nothing. Why don’t we get you a drink, huh?” Eddie takes your hand and walks with you back to the bar side. “Oh, and be careful around Vicki. She might not look it, but that girl will drink anyone under the table.”

“Noted,” you chuckle.

The four of you do a round of shots after Robin insisted, your face pinching at the after taste of the tequila. Eddie laughs and takes your hand, bringing the lime in it to your mouth to suck on. You take it and are relieved to have the palette cleanser on your tongue. 

“Wow, you took that like a champ!” Vicki shouts. She’s clearly a social drunk, opening up more now that she has a little something in her system. Robin, however, shifts from her seat suddenly, a concerned look on her face.

“I’m gonna go find Steve,” she says with a slight slur. When she takes a sideways step, Vicki follows after her, making sure she stays standing on her quest to find Steve.

“I don’t know why they’re looking for him,” Eddie shakes his head, taking a sip of his beer. “I was just out there to check on him.”

Eddie had been periodically going out to bring Steve drinks for the last hour and a half. Apparently he ran into a old friend from high school and they’d been shooting the shit the whole time. Eddie told this to Robin, too, but the more she drank the more concerned she became.

“She’s a good friend.” You say, looking up at him with a sideways smile.

“Yeah, she is. Funny as hell, can’t handle her alcohol at all.”

“I guess so,” you giggle. You play with the straw in your glass while Eddie finishes off his beer, setting it down on the bar before wiping his mouth with his hand.

“You know, I used to play shows here,” he says, looking down at you with lidded eyes.

“Oh, really?” You knew Eddie played guitar. He has a whole room dedicated to music and his guitars on the opposite end of the house. You haven’t gotten to see him play, but you sometimes here the low strumming coming from the room on his days off.

“Yep, me and my old band. We’d play for, like, 20 drunk guys on Tuesdays. It was fun.” There’s a nostalgic gleam in his eyes as he recalls fond memories from his younger years.

“I’m guessing you’ve gotten a lot of action here, too,” you say, nudging his arm with your elbow. He barks back a laugh, shaking his head.

“God, I wished I had. Believe it or not, I was a total loser back in the day.”

“What? Really? No one was throwing themselves at the guitar player?”

“No, unfortunately I wasn’t any of the 20 drunk guys type,” he said with a sarcastic lit.

“Damn, I would have been,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “That was totally my type back then. Still is I guess.” The alcohol in your system starts to take over, lowering your inhibitions and bringing out the chatty side of you. 

“My ex was a bassist for this suuuuper shitty band. Don’t know how they managed it, but they toured with a couple other bands, opening for them and whatever. Anyway, I went on the road with him because I didn’t trust him. Shouldn’t have even bothered quitting my job and leaving my hometown just to make sure he stayed faithful, because he ended up fucking soul bonding with our fucking waitress at a Denny’s in Michigan.”

“Soul bonding?” 

You look up at Eddie, his brows pinched in confusion. “Yeah, you’ve never heard of it?” He shakes his head. “It’s like, when you see someone for the first time and you instantly become bonded to them. Like permanent marking without the bite.”

“Woah,” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “I didn’t know that was even possible.”

“I don’t think it happens super often, but apparently it had to happen to my ex right in front of my face.”

“How do you even know? Like that you’re bonded to someone?”

“All I know for alphas is that they can’t get it up for other omegas, only the one that they’re bonded to. For omegas you can get super sick if you try to have sex with another alpha. I think you can drop, too. You also, like, really feel attached to that person, even if you don’t know anything about them and already have a girlfriend.”

“Wow, that’s crazy,” Eddie says, visibly astonished. 

“I guess,” you mumble. Eddie finally catches on to your disgruntlement after the shock wears off. He puts his arm around your waist and pulls your side flush with his. 

“Well, that’s his loss. Stupid bond or fate or whatever it is. And I know it still feels shitty, but I feel like…it was a good thing. Because if you had stayed with that chump then we wouldn’t be here now, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” You didn’t really think much into the meaning of Eddie’s words. Especially not when he asked if you wanted to go with him to get some fresh air while he smoked.

The cool air hitting your face felt so refreshing compared to the heat from the packed bar. There weren’t many people out on this back patio, most of the noise coming from the front smoking area.

“Want one?” Eddie asks, offering you a cigarette from his pack.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself.”

You don’t know what it is, but the way Eddie uses his teeth to pull a cigarette out of its box makes you feel a type of way. You’re sure it’s from the alcohol, but you also couldn’t deny that he was attractive anyway. He was rough, tatted, smelled amazing. But he was also gentle, caring and attentive. In another reality, maybe the two of you could have been meant for each other.

“Take a picture, sweetheart,” Eddie teases. You had been staring at him and he caught you. But, at the moment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Not as good as the real thing,” you say matter of factly.

“Hmmm, got me there.” The smoke bellows from his lips as he talks, being swept away with the wind. The chill cuts through for you, making you visibly shake.

“Come’er,” Eddie says, opening his arms for you to embrace him again. You rush into him, your face colliding with the material of his chore jacket. It smells faintly of the grease from his work, but mostly of his natural scent that you gladly let invade your sinuses. He wraps his arms around you, letting his lips land on the crown of your head. The heat of his body instantly warms you up and you feel…at home.

“Eddie.” You move your face from his chest, looking up at him as his face is mere inches from yours. He barely gives you a second to think before his lips are crashing into yours. The feeling of fireworks erupting in your mind has you gasping It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt in a kiss before. You stand in shock, not fully processing what’s happening until you feel him pulling away.

“Are you okay?” His eyes shift between yours, looking for an answer to his question before you can speak it.

“Eddie…you kissed me…”

“Yeah…and?” He says it so passively, as if he doesn’t have a whole husband standing on the other side of the building. 

“But--But, Steve-- I--I don’t--”

“Didn’t you say free game in the contract?” 

You’re suddenly very aware of how very hard Eddie is as he’s pressed up against you and it sends an ache straight to your core. You did say that you’d be willing and available any time that Steve or Eddie wanted you…

You look up at Eddie through your lashes and nod. The devilish grin on Eddie’s face gives you the chills. And when he kisses you again, it melts those chills away, stoking the flame building up inside you. 

Shuffling feet and slamming doors, Eddie pins you against the door of the men’s restroom door. Your lips move feverishly against each others, fighting for dominance in your drunken stupor that you would have given into easily otherwise.

Eddie fumbled with his belt until it finally came undone, wasting no time to get his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock and heavy balls. You mimick his actions, undoing your jeans and pushing them down with your panties in one quick motion, letting them pool at your ankles.

He pulls away from you, a line of spit that connects your lips to his red, kiss bitten ones. His eyes are glassy as he looks you up and down, giving you that predatory glare that you’d became accustomed to from your previous times together. 

Suddenly, he’s spinning you around until your facing the bathroom door, leaving stickers and old posters to fill your vision. One of Eddie’s rough hands lands on your hip, pulling on you until your bent at just the right angle while the other grabs his hard cock to rub between your legs. He collects your wetness on his cock, and you gasp when you feel the head catch on your clit.

“Mmm, fuck.” The alcohol on his breath hits your nose as Eddie leans forward, his hand is braced against the door next to your head and pressing you into the cold metal. You feel his hard, broad chest against your back, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist tightly.

Not a moment later you feel him breech your entrance. The stretch takes your breath away, feeling so different when you’re not under the haze of your heat. He stutters as he works you open for him, doing his best to restrain himself from just pushing all the way into you. A high pitch whine escapes your lips when his head hits that sweet spot.

“Right there, baby girl?” Eddie huffs in your ear, repeating the same movement with a sharp thrust. 

“Yes!” You cry out at the sensation, nodding your head vigorously. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he says, nosing his way into the crook of your neck leaving sloppy kisses into your skin as he starts to thrust into you over and over. 

His cold hand sends shivers through you as it snakes it’s way under your shirt, pushing under your bra to grab and fondle your tits. He pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, the feeling sending shocks straight to your core. It all feels like too much already, but when his other hand travels down between your legs, you feel like your legs might buckle under you.

Your vision goes white as you come undone, pussy clenching around Eddie’s cock as he fucks you through it. He groans as you squeeze his cock, panting against your ear as his pace starts to pick up. His arm around your waist is putting in work to hold you up as you come back to reality, your legs feeling like jelly from how hard you came. 

“Fuck, I wanted to do this all night,” Eddie babbles breathlessly. “Wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter when you came downstairs. Who are you all dolled up for, huh?” 

You had gone the extra mile getting ready to go out tonight. It was totally because you wanted to look nice, and nothing at all to do with Steve and Eddie. You totally weren’t trying to get their attention with your low cut top and vanilla perfume. 

At least, that’s what you were telling yourself. 

“N-no one,” you squeak out between thrusts. Eddie huffs out a laugh, his forehead resting against your shoulder for a brief moment before pulling away from you. His hands hold you up by the hips, keeping you in place as he plows into you.

“No one, huh? You’re just dressed up for anyone and everyone to look at you? Hoping you might catch someone’s attention out here?”

“Maybe,” you say. It was meant to be teasing. You weren’t really sure why he was so concerned about people looking at you to begin with. 

But Eddie didn’t like that answer. 

“Sounds like I need to remind you who you belong to,” Eddie says with a low growl. And when you thought his pace couldn’t get any more relentless, he started to fuck into you with purpose, barely pulling out before pushing back in. He angles himself to hit that spot inside of you again, sending you hurtling towards another orgasm at lightening speed. 

“Fuck, Eddie!”

“That’s right, say my name, sweetheart.”

You chant his name like a prayer until he answers. Your orgasm hit’s you like truck, leaving you speechless as you cum harder than you ever have outside of your heat. Eddie follows right after you, pushing himself flush as he cums deep inside of you, filling you with his hot seed.

“Goooooooood damn,” he groans, keeling over you with full body shutters. More grunts and moans pour from him as he stills, giving you the chance to start to come down as the overstimulation stops. 

Just as you feel your post orgasm clarity kick in, you notice a familiar swelling feeling starting to grow inside of you.

“Woah, woah, hold on!” You straighten yourself, pulling away from Eddie as quickly as you can before his knot fully locks inside of you. Turning around, you watch as the base of his cock swells into a ring of muscle around his shaft.

“Ahhhhh, shit,” Eddie says, grabbing his knot and shaft with his hands, taking his bottom lip between his teeth with a pained expression. 

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you say with genuine concern. You’ve heard about how sensitive a knotted alpha’s cock can be when an omega’s body can’t keep it covered. Apparently any little bit of friction is torture, like sandpaper to an exposed nerve.

“Fuck, why did you pull away?”

A sudden thunderous knock has the both of you jumping. The both of you adjust your clothing back to place, Eddie tucking his still hard cock into the waistband of his jeans, before opening the door. 

Fully prepared to do a walk of shame past a stranger out of this bar’s men’s bathroom, your blood go cold when you find yourself face to face with Steve. He looks straight at you, an anger in his eyes that you’d never seen before.

“Oh, hey, babe,” Eddie stutters out, clearly more worried about his own problem rather than being caught by his husband fucking another person in a bathroom. Steve doesn’t even look up at Eddie, his beautiful Hazel eyes locked on you. 

“Both of you, go get in the car,” Steve finally says after what feels like an eternity. “We’re leaving.” 

“Okay,” Eddie nods. He walks up behind you, grabbing onto your shoulders to walk you forward, when Steve grabs his hands and pushed them off of you. Eddie’s caught of guard by Steve’s actions, pure shock all over his face.

“What’s you’re problem?” He questions his husband. Steve wordlessly grabs you, pulling you out of Eddie’s way until you’re fully by his side.

“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Steve grits through his teeth. Eddie looks at Steve, the tension between them thick enough that you could cut it with a butter knife. 

“Fine,” Eddie finally says, storming off and leaving you with Steve.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s voice was softer now. You dared to look up at him, his brows pinched with worry as he seemed to be looking you over.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine Steve.” 

“Did he cum inside you?”

The question has you reeling back. You didn’t know what to say. Obviously he knew the two of you fucked, but the queston didn’t seem to come from a place of anger. Rather, he seemed to be genuinely concerned if Eddie had finished inside of you.

“Y-yes?” You shift in place, as if acknowledging it suddenly made you hyper aware of the sticky feeling between your legs.

Steve sighed, his hands running through his hair in frustration.

“I’m sorry. He gets handsy when he’s drunk. I don’t know why he didn’t just come to me.” Steve moves closer to you, his arms positioned as if he was going to wrap them around you. But, he suddenly backs away with an almost anguished look.

“Steve, I’m so-”

“No,” he cuts you off. “Don’t apologize, this isn’t your fault.”

You’re honestly not really sure what Steve is upset about at this point. Maybe there was something that him and Eddie discussed outside of your arrangement that you didn’t know about? It was probably too much to bring up tonight, but you would definitely need to sit down and talk with them about boundaries first thing tomorrow.

The drive home was anything but quiet. You were almost afraid to get in the car since Steve had been drinking, too, but he assured you he wouldn’t put you or Eddie in danger if he felt he couldn’t drive. Steve drove home white knuckling the steering wheel as Eddie lets out little whimpers and moans from his seat.

You thought his knot would have gone down by now, but his inebriated state and the pressure of the seatbelt across his lap was making him miserable. You felt awful for having to leave him in that state, watching him subtly buck against the strap to feel any sort of friction. But the idea of being locked to him when Steve found the two of you was like a scenario from your nightmares after how upset he was earlier.

When Steve pulled into the driveway, Eddie sighed in relief, unbuckling his seatbelt with lightening speed and hopping out of the car as soon as it stopped moving. Just as Eddie was about to open the front door, Steve stepped out of the car and called for him to wait. Eddie looked back with distress, waiting and watching as Steve rounded the car to let you out.

“I want the both of you upstairs as soon as we get inside, waiting for me on the bed, without touching each other until I get there. Do you both understand?”

Steve’s scent penetrates your nose, putting you in a submissive haze that has you nodding without question. You walk to the door, Eddie’s eyes on you as you push past him into the house and up the stairs. 

You sat quietly on the edge of Eddie and Steve’s bed. After a few minutes Eddie pushes through the bedroom door, a prominent wet spot visible on his tee shirt where his precum had been dribbling out from the constant stimulation. He didn’t say anything to you, instead he sat next to you on the bed, just far enough away that you wouldn’t be touching each other. A whimper escapes his lips when his jeans drag down his still hard cock, the outline of it visible as it presses against his shirt.

“Did I get you in trouble?” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. You keep your eyes on the carpet between your feet, not having the courage to look at Eddie in the face.

Eddie huffs out a choked laugh, his curls bouncing in your peripherals.

“I got myself in trouble,” Eddie’s voice has a sultry lit to it, “But…the punishments are always worth it.”

Before you could really process what his words might mean, Steve pushes open the bedroom door, causing you to jump where you sat. The look on his face was unreadable, which made you feel more uneasy than if he was wearing his anger in his features. 

You take the opportunity to look up at Eddie. His eyes were locked on Steve, a shit eating grin on his face as he looks his upset husband up and down. When you follow his line of sight, you see Steve’s cock is straining in his jeans.

“Undress. Now.” Steve commands, looking at you as if to see how you’d react. Eddie begins to pull his shirt over his head, putting his tattooed skin on display for you and Steve to admire.

When you realize that you’re not about to get a lecture, you waste no time in joining Eddie. You strip your clothes piece by piece, trying to keep up with how quickly Eddie is discarding his own. Once you’re down to your panties, Steve stops you before you can yank them down.

“Slowly,” he demands. His features hard as his eyes watch the way you slide your lacy panties down your thighs at a leisurely pace. You advert your gaze from his, focusing on removing your last article of clothing in a way that pleases Steve. 

As you pull the material down, you watch as a string of Eddie cum stretches, stuck on the crotch of your panties from where it had leaked out of you. It finally breaks as the panties reach your knees, the sticky spend clinging to the side of your leg.

Eddie curses under his breath, his vocalization snapping Steve out of whatever trance he was in. 

“Clean it up.”

Eddie looks up at Steve confused. Steve repeats himself, a thick finger pointing to your leg where the cum was sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You look back and forth between them, unsure of what you should be doing. 

When Eddie doesn’t move, Steve sighs, and grabs his hand, leading him over to you. He instructs Eddie to get on his knees, which he does without question, his big, brown eyes on Steve as he waits for further instruction.

“Ugh, do I have to walk you through it?” Steve asks with annoyance. But he doesn’t give Eddie the chance to answer before he’s grabbing the back of his head and guiding it between your legs.

“You made this mess Eddie. Clean. It. Up.”

Eddie’s tongue making contact with your skin startled you, making you instinctively jerk back. The bed behind you keeps you from moving very far, Eddie’s tongue chasing you as you move. You watch in awe as Eddie laps up his own cum from your skin, his blown out pupils looking up at you as moving higher and higher up your leg.

Just as Eddie’s about to reach the apex between your legs, Steve pulls him back by his hair. Eddie’s eyes roll back as he lets out a low grown from the force. He smiles up at Steve, whose expression is back to being stony and unreadable.

Steve says your name, making you stiffen at the sudden attention.

“I want you on your back, head down here,” he says, pointing to the foot of the bed. You wait for a moment for any further instruction, but Steve only punctuates his demand with a sharp, “Now.”

You do as instructed, your head at the foot of the bed and your feet almost to their pillows. Steve tuts, motioning you to move further down the bed until your head is hanging off the edge slightly. After he hums in approval, he directs his attention back to Eddie, whose cock jumps in excitement when his husband looks down at him.

“Don’t get too excited,” Steve says, tugging at Eddie’s hair again.

“Kinda hard not to when you do that, big boy,” Eddie breathes out, his toothy smile on display. Steve sucks in a sharp breath before letting go of his grip on Eddie’s hair. He points towards the head of the bed where your feet lay.

“I want you to get yourself nice and comfortable between her legs,” Steve nods towards you, “because I want you to use your tongue to get every last drop of your cum out of her pussy.” Eddie’s eyes light up, but Steve continues on. “Ah, ah, let me finish. This isn’t a reward. I don’t want you to touch her with anything other than your mouth. No. Hands. And you’re not going to touch yourself either. Do you understand?”

If Steve’s stipulations were meant to upset Eddie, he surely didn’t succeed as Eddie still nodded with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. When Steve gave him the go ahead, Eddie sprang up from where he was on the floor and up onto the bed. The mattress dipped and shook as he crawled over your body, using his hands to part your legs so he could make himself comfortable there. You let out a giggle at his animated movements, his hands rubbing together before settling his face an inch away from your pussy.

“I do want to apologize in advance,” he says, looking as if he’s talking to your pussy instead of you. “I’m a big fan. Never been so close to one of you in person before, though. But I’ll do my best.” 

You gasp as Eddie presses his face into your heat, his tongue darting out to lap between your folds. He’s sloppy with his movements as his tongue explores every inch of your pussy. When he gets to you clit, your body jumps from the sensation and you see his eyes light up at your reaction. He repeats his movement again and again, giving you pressing kitten licks that send jolts throughout your body with each one.

A hand lands on your cheek, wrapping around your chin until it has your lips puckering in its grip. Steve tilts your head back to look at him, but all you see is his thick cock hovering over your face, blocking Steve from your view.

“Open up, sweet girl,” Steve coos at you, his thumb tapping against your cheek. You open your mouth without protest. “Mmm, such a good girl,” he says, grabbing his cock and tapping the head on your tongue. His precum lands on your tongue and you moan at the taste. 

Eddie’s tongue suddenly breaches your hole, the muscle digging deep inside of you as he laps away at the cum he left inside of you at the bar. Steve takes advantage of your gasp, pushing himself inside of your wet mouth, just enough to not trigger any gag reflex you might have. 

Between Eddie’s tongue and Steve’s cock, you feel borderline dizzy at the push and pull sensation of being between them. Steve’s large, alpha cock stretches your mouth to its limits while Eddie’s inexperienced tongue works over you, testing to see what makes you tick until he’s got you bucking against his face.

When Eddie gets his tongue as deep as he can possibly reach it, his nose presses into your clit roughly, moving in a way that has you suddenly seeing stars. Your thighs clamp around him, locking his head in place as you soak him with your slick. Steve lets out a groan as you moan around his cock, his hand suddenly on your throat as he stills himself. 

You brace yourself the best you can to take his cum, but he pulls out of you completely instead. 

“Fuck, move!” He shouts, motioning for Eddie to leave his spot between your legs. Eddie pries himself from your thighs and scrambles to get out of Steve’s way.

“C-can I--” Eddie stutters in a pussy drunk state, grabbing his cock in his hands and pumping the almost purple tip slowly.

“Do whatever you want,” Steve says between gritted teeth, positioning himself on his knees before guiding his cock towards your entrance. Eddie rounds the bed, taking over where Steve left, positioning himself over your. You open your mouth for him and he chuckles, pushing his cock past your lips as far as you’ll let him go. He whines again, beginning to fuck your mouth while his knot presses into your nose with every other thrust. You can’t quite take the whole thing, so you wrap a hand around it for extra stimulation.

At the same time, the head of Steve’s cock pushes inside of you, slipping in without much resistance after all of Eddie’s efforts to work you open tonight. He slides himself inside of you until he’s fully inside before he begins to rock into you with sharp thrusts. 

When you gag hard after a particularly hard thrust from Steve, Eddie stops his movements and lets the momentum of your body do all the work. You feel Eddie lean forward over you. From the angle you’re in, all you can see is Eddie’s balls swinging in front of your face, but you can hear the smacking sounds of Steve and Eddie kissing over your body as they fuck you. It hits you hard how you’re being used as nothing more than a toy for their pleasure, the realization sending you full throttle towards another orgasm. 

“Shit,” you hear Steve hiss. And not even a moment later, you feel him push his cock as far inside of you as possible, his hot spend filling up your spasming walls as you continue to cum hard on his cock. 

“Oh my god--” Eddie huffs, trying to pull his cock from your mouth. But you keep a firm grip, letting his seed hit your tongue and roll down your throat, swallowing over and over with every spurt.

After a synchronous moment of ecstasy, clarity begins to seep into each of you. Steve pulls out of you with a gasp, grabbing you by the legs and pulling you down until your head is back onto the bed, effectively pulling Eddie mostly out of your mouth. Eddie stumbles back the rest of the way, crouching down until he’s back on his knees, his head landing next to yours on the bed.

Steve leans over your, cupping your face in his hands and bringing your attention to him.

“Are you okay?” His concern is apparent in his pinched brows and shifting eyes. You smile up at him, leaning into his large palms and kissing a freckle there. He lets out a sigh of relief, pulling away from you to sit back on his haunches. 

Eddie shifts next to you, his tattooed arms folding around your neck as he presses his cheek into yours. 

“Did so good for us, sweetheart,” he coos in your ear, his lips pressing into your temple. You turn to face him, and he kisses you again, his lips pressing into yours softly. You can’t help but smile with how sweet it is.

But the kiss is broken as your suddenly pulled forward. Steve pulls your body into him, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He’s glaring down at Eddie, whose only response is a knowing look and a raised eyebrow.

“Do you not want Eddie to kiss me?” Your voice pulls Steve’s attention. He hates how you’re looking at him, wide glassy eyes full of unwarranted concern.

“It--it’s not that,” Steve says, “it’s just…”

“Steve wants to kiss you too, but he thinks you don’t want to.”

“Eddie--” Steve shouts, scoffing at his husband.

“Steve, you can kiss me.” Steve tenses, his grip on you tightening. “I think it would be silly to say you can’t kiss me after letting you guys put your dicks in my mouth.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. He climbs up on the bed and positions himself behind you, wrapping an arm around you and pressing another kiss to your cheek. 

“Come on, Stevie. How can you say no to this face?”

Steve’s eyes dart between yours and Eddie’s, the gears turning in his head to the point you were waiting to see steam come from his ears. He sucks in a breath and you’re certain that he’s going to say no. 

But, he brings a hand to your face, holding it in place as his lips meet yours. They’re soft, quite the contrast to Eddie’s rough, winter chapped lips. The fireworks feeling goes off in your mind again. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol with Eddie, but you’re too sober now to convince yourself. 

Steve deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that has your stomach flipping. You couldn’t help but keep comparing it to Eddie’s. Where Eddie’s kiss was one of desire, Steve’s feels greedy. The way he hold your head in place, it feels like he wants to consume you.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around you in an attempt to separate you and Steve. “I’m gonna get hard again watching the two of you make out like that. So either we get ready for bed or I’m dinging the bell for round two.”

A second round didn’t sound too bad in theory, but the way your body felt like a bag of sand as soon as Eddie mentioned getting ready for bed had you voluntarily slinking off of their bed and onto shaky legs. Steve and Eddie stayed close behind, the three of you squeezing into their walk in shower and taking turns grooming each other. 

The days following up to the start of your heat were…mostly normal. Steve was busier with work as he tried to get everything in order before taking another week off. He spent a lot of time in his office, only coming out to get his plate and take it back behind the closed door. Though, he did add you to his pecking order, mindlessly kissing your temple and then Eddie’s as he read over reports or whatever kept him preoccupied. 

But where Steve was absent, Eddie was the opposite. Spending most of his free time with you while his husband was busy, Eddie followed you like a lost puppy. You kept him busy, though, having him help you prep for the three of you to all be cycling together. He helped you prep meals that would be easy to reheat, clean the house, and safety proof their bedroom, along with various other tasks that you could think of.

The day before your heat came, your body let you know by making you insatiably hungry and extremely exhausted. Steve and Eddie took their inducers when they noticed the changes, getting you settled for the day before the two of them would inevitably pass out as the drugs took effect, the tell tale sign of an alpha going into rut being their extended sleep period the hours leading up to the cycle.

As your body slowly started to slip into your heat, you felt yourself wanting to slip into Steve and Eddie’s room more and more. But as long as you still had some sense, you told yourself that you’d be spending the next week with them in their most feral state and to just enjoy the little time to yourself that you had.

But as you lay in your bed trying to sleep, all you could think about was what the outcome of this week was going to be. It would take a miracle for you to not get pregnant by one of them by the end of it all. You’d be lying if it didn’t scare you a little bit. After all of the things you’ve read in the pregnancy books Steve’s gotten for you, there’s no way that you wouldn’t be at least a little on edge.

The end is what was starting to scare you the most. Specifically how you would feel after the baby is born. Robin’s words from the other day playing back over and over in your head.

Even with the naturally nurturing disposition of your second gender, you hadn’t really considered yourself someone who wanted to be a mother. That was partly why you thought you’d be a good match for this gig. But you’d read that even betas go through hormonal changes that omegas go through when they become pregnant and give birth that bonds you with your baby.

You’d thought about bringing these concerns up with Steve and Eddie, but you decided that you didn’t want to stress them out. There was a contract saying you wouldn’t have any parental rights anyway, so it’s not like you had much choice on the matter at this point. 

The sound of slamming and clanking woke you up from your sleep. Your body was hot, your tongue stuck to the roof of your very dry mouth. Your mind was in a haze, the smell of alpha pheromones in the air was so thick that it was becoming  impossible to think of anything beyond your primal instincts.

Rolling out of bed, you follow the sounds down the stairs and into the kitchen. The mixed pheromones were so strong that you were gushing slick before you could even see the two of them.

The kitchen was a mess. Licked clean plates scattered all about the counter tops. You had a thought coming to your mind about hoping you prepped enough food, but it was quickly forgotten when you were suddenly pushed back against the wall behind you. 

The room spun with how fast you were moved. The sudden close proximity with your alphas had your knees buckling under you. Strong arms hold you up as got tongues lap at your skin. There’s a bit of growling between them, but your needy whines keep refocusing them on you.

Opening your eyes after a moment, you look at the two men before you. Goosebumps trail over your skin as you take in their feral forms. Everything about them is enhanced; they’re taller, bigger, having to hunch down for their mouths to connect with your skin. 

With almost empty looks in their eyes besides their almost completely blown out pupils, they remain locked on you as if you’d disappear if they looked away for even a moment. They man handled your clothes off you right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving you fully exposed to them in a matter of seconds.

Without warning your being lifted off the ground and whisked away, back up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Your body lands softly on the bed, with Steve joining you first. His hot skin burned into you as your chests collide, the weight of his body pinning you down. Eddie took the opportunity to fully undress while you and Steve distracted each other. 

With all the heat and movement, you felt your slick starting to leak from between your legs. As soon as the first drop hit the bedsheets between you, Eddie and Steve stilled in their tracks. You felt a pang of fear as the air became thick with mixed alpha scents.

Eddie lunged towards you, but Steve was on the defense, covering you with his body as Eddie got closer. The bed shook as Eddie tried to pry Steve away from you. It got worse when Steve let go of you, and the two started going at it, wrestling each other on the bed next to you. You panicked, cloudy head unsure of what to do in the moment. 

After a beat, your instincts kicked in. Climbing on all fours, you began calling out to them. Your mewling got their attention off of each other long enough for them to see you presenting yourself to them. 

They pushed at each other as the crawled closer to you, a hand from each landing on either side of you as if they were making sure you would stay in place. You didn’t have much time to brace yourself as their tongues began to open you up, the two of them lapping at the slick just as soon as it was leaving your hole. And when it wasn’t enough, their tongues breach your entrance at the same time, fighting each other for who would get to go in deeper.

“Fuck,” you hear Eddie huff, and the bed starts to shift around behind you. Steve’s large hands take over, grabbing at your ass and spreading you apart more for him. His thick tongue is able to fully extend inside of you, darting in and out as he attempts to lick you clean. It feels insane, especially as his scruffy chin presses into your clit. 

Suddenly, your first orgasm hits you like a brick wall, coating Steve’s face as he drank you up. It didn’t last long, however, because Steve’s face was quickly pulled away from you, most likely by Eddie by the sound of Steve’s reaction.

As quick as Steve’s face was pulled away though, the tip of Eddie’s cock was being pressed against you. Wasting no time, he slid in with ease, giving you no time to adjust before bottoming out. You gasped at how full you felt with the way the head of his cock was pressing into your cervix with how big he had gotten. All the ache you felt from your heat was washed away with the feeling of your alpha’s cock inside of you.

Eddie leaned forward, pressing all his weight into you. You thought he was going to get right to pounding into you, but instead he started moved with a hard hitting grinding motion. As if every thrust was purposeful, punctuated.

His arms were wrapped around you as he fucked you, keeping you under him in a primal way. Humping away, his movements eventually became more rapid and sloppy. It was truly animalistic. His grunting and snarling against your skin reminded you of a feral dog growling at someone trying to take his food. 

When you felt something else prodding at your entrance you understood his reaction. You turned your head to get a better look and out of your peripherals you could see Steve from behind Eddie. Eddie started to slow, but it felt forced given the way he was whining in your ear. 

When Eddie pulled all the way out of you, leaving just the tip at your entrance, you felt Steve’s tip position itself just underneath Eddie’s. A gush of slick spilled from you at the anticipation. You were happy with just one of your alpha’s cocks in you, but getting to feel them both again had you calling out for them.

The two of them started pushing into you, stretching you open like nothing you’ve ever felt before as their large cocks made home inside of your generous pussy. The feeling of being so full had your eyes rolling back, and you came instantly as the both of them bottomed out. 

Eddie’s body shuddered against you, and Steve’s low groan let you know that they two of them were enjoying this just as much as you. Eddie began moving again, not liking that he had been made to stop in the first place. Steve followed after, moving in tandem with Eddie so that you were constantly being filled by at least one of their cocks at all times.

With every passing thrust you felt your brain become more and more like goo. You could only think of two words over and over in your head. Two words that fully expressed how you were feeling.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

You repeated the sentiment over and over, slightly muffled by the bedsheets your face was being pressed against. And you truly were thankful. You’d never felt so loved and cared for in your entire life that you felt being so connected with your two alphas in this moment. 

Steve started to pick up his pace, and the stimulation had you cumming again. “Holy fuck, that’s tight,” Eddie grits between his teeth, mouth pressed against the back of your neck. 

Everything became way too much very quickly. The constant state of pleasure had you cumming back to back without much of a break in between. At some point, you must have passed out because you woke up to the sound of arguing at the foot of the bed. 

Opening your eyes, you see Steve has Eddie pinned down on the bed, their cocks brushing against each other as Steve straddles Eddie to keep him down. Eddie had his muzzle on, and it makes you wonder what happened while you were passed out. 

“Wh-whats going on?” You manage to get out, shifting to move towards them.

They stop their fighting, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, breath picking up suddenly. 

“Yeah,” you say with a nod, kneeling next to the two of them. The closer you get, the emptier you feel without the two of them inside you. “Miss my alphas.”

“Neither of you came,” you say, noticing the lack of cum inside you.

“You passed out,” Steve says, giving Eddie a pointed look. When you look at Eddie, you see that he’s actively fighting against Steve’s hold on him. He looked almost crazed, eyes locked on you. Dominant alphas are usually able to control themselves better during their ruts, but regressive alphas can be a little harder to handle, especially around an omega in heat.

“It’s okay, Steve,” you reassure. “I always want to help my alphas.” 

You place a hand on Steve’s where he’s holding down Eddie’s arm. 

“I don’t know,” Steve says wearily. “I think we need to reconsider--”

“Steve.” You say his name firmly. Hazel eyes shift has he looks between yours. With a heavy sigh his grip begins to relax against Eddie’s.

And no sooner does Eddie use all of his strength to send Steve flying half way across the room. 

Moving with a lightening speed, Eddie is on top of you in a flash. It’s almost frightening, but you can’t contain your excited giggles as Eddie sloppily attempts to mount you again. You hold his face in your hands, and he stops in place, wide brown eyes looking at you as if waiting for your next command. 

“Let Steve up here, first, okay?” You ask him. He nods, his hungry eyes not moving from yours, even as you peck his lips.

Patting the bed, you motion for Steve to rejoin you. The bed dips, shaking as Steve makes his way to the two of you. 

“Let me get behind you,” he says, placing a hand on your back to push you forward. Eddie moves with you, maintaining eye contact even as Steve maneuvers his way behind you. Only when you position yourself to sit on Steve’s cock does Eddie have a reaction, a low growl coming from his throat. You shush him, stroking his cheek soothingly.

“It’s okay, Eddie,” you coo, his name coming out as a moan as you lower yourself onto Steve’s hard cock. The feeling has your eyes rolling back again, making you lose the eye contact with Eddie.

In an instant, he’s pushing you back until your laying against Steve’s chest.

“Eddie, take it easy,” Steve hisses, trying to shift his position for Eddie to have better access to your pussy as well. His hand snakes around you and grabs onto Eddie’s cock making him gasp. He begins to thrust into Steve’s palm, moaning and huffing at the feeling of friction. 

Steve probably would have been content letting Eddie get off like this, but you were being just as whiny watching them. So Steve pulled out just enough and guided Eddie to your pussy once again. It took a couple tries, but he was able to get him in, and Eddie immediately began fucking into you with wreckless abandon. 

The movement got Steve worked up pretty quickly, following with Eddie’s pace to fuck into you again. Eddie hovered above you, practically drooling in his muzzle as his body moved on its own in and out of you. It turned you on to no end to see him so fucked out over you in this state. 

After a few moments, Eddie’s hand flew up above your head. His body stilled, cock twitching inside of you as you felt him about to cum. Steve was right behind him, both of their cocks deep inside of you as they began to cum. Warmth filled you, and at the same time their knots began to swell, effectively plugging you to take their seed. 

It felt like an eternity before they both stopped cumming, Eddie landing on top of you still trembling in the aftershocks. Steve was breathing heavily beneath you, arms wrapped around you tight as he finally started to calm down, too.

The three of you lay like that for a minute, before Steve makes the decision to shift the three of you on your sides.

“Ow,” Eddie says, sounding more lucid than he has since you woke up.

“Sorry, I couldn’t breath with the both of you on top of me.”

The position was awkward, but more so for the two boys than you. You think their discomfort led to their knots going down at a quicker pace, because as soon as they could they were separated from you. Eddie was out like a light, snoozing as soon as his head his the pillows.

Steve still held you tight, breathing in your scent. His lips touched the base of your neck, leaving a small kiss there. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks.

“Does what hurt?” You ask, unsure of what he’s referring to.

“Your neck, here.” He touches where his lips were.

“No? Should it?”

Steve is quiet for a moment.

“Do…you not feel any different…?”

“Not any different than I do during my heats,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this line of questioning.

Silence again. Steve says your name.

“Eddie…Eddie marked you. Or, he tried to…”

Your blood ran cold. When did he do that? It had to have been when you passed out. You’d definitely remember something like that happening.

“Steve--I--”

“It’s okay,” he shushes you. “I…I don’t think it worked…” Steve lets out a sigh. “I don’t think he could mark you now anyway…”

“What do you mean?” You turn to look at Steve, a look of forlorn all over his face.

“Lets not talk about it right now.” His words become breathy, and you can feel him rubbing his scent on your skin. His hips move against you, and you can feel his hardness against you. 

After a few touches and some maneuvering Steve is back inside you once again. You’re trying not to be so loud that you wake Eddie, but Steve’s cock feels so good inside you. He’s working at an angle that has you gripping the sheets with white knuckles. 

When he brings his big hands around you to rub at your bud you can’t stop yourself from crying out his name.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he huffs, still moving inside you. His grip around your chest gets tighter, pulling your back against his chest even more. “Tell me who’s fucking you right now. Who is it, baby?”

“You, Steve,” you moan. His demanding tone has you clenching around him even harder. It felt so right to be with him like this, but part of you was missing Eddie, too. It was tempting to wake him up to get him going again. But, you wanted to have your special time with Steve while you could.

“Such a good omega for me, aren’t you?” His words are slurred drunk on the feeling of your pussy hugging his cock so tight. “You’re going to be so perfect with my baby inside you.”

His words continue to make you dizzy. That’s all you want, isn’t it? To get pregnant with Steve and Eddie’s babies and live happily ever after with them. You want to be a good omega wife for them, you’d make them so happy wouldn’t you.

Steve’s movements become sloppy until he’s plunging himself as deep inside of you as he can go. His knot swells again as he fills you up for a second time; the second of countless more times you hope. 

You remember that you’ll be spending the next 5-7 days being passed back and fourth between your two alphas and it makes you so happy you can’t help but tear up.

“Hey, whats wrong?” Steve says, snapping out of his trance as soon as he hears your sniffles.

“Nothing’s wrong, Stevie.” You chuckle, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m just…really happy to be here is all.”

Steve melts at your words, burying himself in the crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, his hot breath fanning your skin as he presses kisses against it. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Steve whispers just loud enough for you to hear. “He is, too,” he says, nodding towards Eddie’s still sleeping form. “He talks about you all the time. But I’m sure he’d say the same thing about me.”

“You guys talk about me that much?”

“Hmmm, probably more than two married men should.”

Your heart skips a beat. The heat of everything was lowering yours and Steve’s inhibitions. Would he ever tell you this if the two of you weren’t intoxicated on your own hormones?

There’s a comforting silence between the two of you. Eventually you drifted off to sleep again in Steve’s arms, his body heat keeping you warm while you slept.

You’re not sure what time it was when you felt your body being moved. You were being carried bridal style, and by scent alone you were able to tell it was Eddie. The soft click of a door closing had you opening your eyes, eyes adjusting to the low light from the sunsetting outside coming from the windows in the hall.

When you looked up at Eddie, he had taken his muzzle off, but still had a feral look in his eyes. Eyes that were darting around as he took you down the hall and into his music room.

You’d never been in it before. Not that you’d been explicitly told not to, but because Eddie told you that he liked to tend to it himself, so you chose not to enter out of respect. So when you found yourself inside, you couldn’t help but let yourself explore the room.

It was definitely very Eddie; walls painted red, band posters covering the wall, as well as a few frames with records in them. There was quite a collection of guitars and speakers that took up the rest of the wall space. 

Besides a desk with a computer, there was a small couch that also furnished the room. Eddie made a bee line for it once he closed the door behind him. He placed you down delicately and lowered himself to his knees. His eyes were locked between your legs, tongue darting out to lick at his lips as if he was a starved animal and you were his next meal.

“Eddie,” you say in a breathy tone. His eyes dart up, looking at you expectantly. “What do you want, Eddie?” 

“You. I want you.” His hands land on your knees, rubbing up and down your thighs sensually. The roughness of his fingers gives you goosebumps down your legs.

“Please,” he begs, eyes flickering back and forth between yours and between your legs. Your breath hitches and you nod, slowly parting your legs for him.

As soon as you’ve made yourself open for him, Eddie dives right in, feverishly devouring your sore, puffy pussy. You’re so sensitive already, but Eddie takes your gasps and moans as a good sign and keeps going.

Eddie’s large, tattooed arms wrap around your legs and pull you closer to the edge of the couch as you begin to shake. His mouth is attached to your pussy, drinking you up as you cum hard. Eddie makes an almost pained noise, his own body shaking against the couch after a few moments.

You look down, and the combination of how he looks with the sudden strong alpha smell in the room tells you that he just came. It only turned you on more when you realized it had to have been untouched, given his arms had been snug around your thighs this whole time.

“Awe, Eddie,” you coo, “Did you cum from eating me out?”

Eddie looks up at you pitifully, nodding with shame.

“I-I’m sorry,” he pouts, as if you’re going to scold him.

“It’s okay, Eddie.” You cup his face in your hands. “You just really like eating pussy, and that’s okay.”

“Your pussy,” he corrects. “Yours. It’s the only one I’ve ever had.”

That fact heats up your body head to toe. You’ve been Eddie’s first everything when it came to him being with an omega. It made you feel so special to be able to give him something he’s never had before.

You shove Eddie down onto the plush carpet of the room, his eyes going wide as you climb on top of him. His leaky, still hard cock jumps in your hand as you pump it a few times. Eddie’s big eyes watch as you line him up with you, only for his head to fly back as you sink down onto his length.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, hands running over his face as you being to move, bouncing and grinding on his cock.

“Wanna be good for you, Alpha.” The words come out broken as you bounce up and down, hands digging into his tattooed chest when you start to pick up the pace. 

Eddie’s hands fly to your hips, and you think he’s going to stop you. Instead, he uses all his alpha strength to hold you up, adjusting his footing so he can drill upwards into you. It just about takes your breath away, your brain turning to mush as he fucks into you wildly.

He starts to say something under his breath that your brain can’t comprehend. It takes a few moments for you to get yourself together enough to register whatever prayer he’s repeating over and over.

“Get pregnant, get pregnant, get pregnant--”

His words send you over the edge, making you cum hard enough on his cock that your vision turns white, your body going limp in his grasp. He takes advantage of your pliant status, letting your upper half rest on his chest as he wraps his arms around you. 

A few more wild thrusts later and Eddie is almost howling as he starts to cum inside you. His knot swells faster than ever to lock you in place on him. His hips move weakly, still chasing the high until he finally stills, letting your weight rest fully on top of him.

The timer goes off in the kitchen downstairs, pulling you from your solo concert of Queen’s greatest hits that you had playing from one of Eddie’s speakers. You set the scrub brush you were using to clean the carpets down before running down the stairs to check on dinner.

The house had been cycle free for a full 24 hours, so Steve and Eddie had gone back to work this morning. With an empty house, you had taken the opportunity to do a deep clean of every square inch of the house. You tried not to think about how you’d spent the last 6 days being fucked on every imaginable surface in this house as you swept, scrubbed, and rinsed everything in sight. 

It also gave you a lot of time to think. To over analyze small thing Eddie or Steve said about you during your cycles that felt like there might be feelings budding between the three of you. 

Part of you wishes that it could be true, that there might be something growing of you within their hearts. 

But it also scares the shit out of you.

There’s no way you were about to be a homewrecker. The last thing you wanted was to think that there was a mutual bond with you and the boys, only to find out that it’s one sided. Or that only one of them feels something for you, leaving the other to feel betrayed and hate you. And it would kill you if either one of them hated you.

You shook your head in an attempt to rid you of your thoughts. The only reason this was happening was because of a contract. If you hadn’t answered that newspaper ad, you wouldn’t even be thinking these delusional thoughts. You’d probably be heading back home with your tail between your legs, begging your parents to let you move back in with them.

There was no way that was going to happen. You just needed to get pregnant and you’d be set for a little while longer.

The sound of the front door opening grabbed your attention. You set the casserole on the stove top and smoothed out our apron, waiting for Eddie to make his entrance.

“Hey there, sweet thang,” he greeted, hanging his keys on their hook and pulling his hair out of it’s ponytail. He still had a dark smudge on his cheek that he didn’t fully clean off before he left work. And when he took off his jacket his arms were put on full display for your eyes to take in.

Damn, were you feeling some residual from your heat?

“Hi, Eds,” you finally muster to say, turning your attention to pulling the plates out of the cabinet.

“Smells good in here,” Eddie says, grabbing the plates before you could, leaning down to kiss your lips. It lasted for a solid few seconds before he pulled away, carrying the plates to the table. 

You stood in shock. That obviously wasn’t your first kiss, but it was the first one that felt so…domestic. The first that wasn’t attached to sex. You knew Eddie had been bold with you, even while Steve was around at times, but he’d never kissed you like that, where you ended up with butterflies in your stomach.

The front door opened again, but you were so engrossed in thought you didn’t really register it. 

“Hi babe,” you hear from beside you. Eddie greets Steve at the doorway to the kitchen, barely giving him the chance to set his keys on the hook before kissing him deeply. Deep enough it almost made you dizzy. 

Eddie and Steve were so in love it was almost disgusting in a cute way. If anyone deserved to have their own family it was them. Even when they two of them are deep in the trenches of their heat they would still make time for each other (which gave you a nice break from dealing with two alphas in rut).

“Jeez, Eddie, you act like I didn’t just see you this morning,” Steve chuckles, taking his coat off.

“I know,” he says with faux bashfulness. “I just missed my two favorite people a lot today.”

Steve looks at Eddie, then to you. For a moment you thought he was going to give you the normal distant routine and you mentally prepared yourself for it. 

But after a blink, he sauntered over to the stove, stopping right in front of you. One hand landed on your hip, the other on your cheek. Your heart began to beat like a drum as he leaned in. And when his lips met yours, it felt like fireworks. Like you’d won some major award.

And then you were being crushed. Eddie’s arms took the two of you into a tight hug, almost lifting you both off of the ground. His laugh echoed the kitchens as Steve ordered him let you both go.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he says, pecking the both of you on the side of the head.

“Now, I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m starving.”

thanks for reading!

[charliemwrites]

Woof woof yall.

No content warnings

You’re out in the woods one day, taking photos and going for a little hike. Stupid mental health walk or something; whatever, it’s a nice day and you’ve gotten some good shots. You’re just about to turn back when a huge brown and black wolf lopes out from a nearby thicket.

There aren’t any wolves in England though! Hunted to extinction - it’s why you feel safe bebopping around the forest alone in the daylight. So you see this big fuck-off sized “dog” and coo at the pretty puppy.

“Hello handsome boy, aren’t you just gorgeous! Will you come say hi?”

You do all the right things that you’re supposed to do with an unfamiliar dog but he just barges right through. Trots up to you, nose shoved into your crotch. You startle, bark a laugh, shove at his big stupid head.

“A little forward,” you tease, scratching under his chin, “but it’s better than biting.”

You feel all around his neck for a collar, but no luck. He must be someone’s though, huge blue eyes too intelligent and focused on your words. And his coat is so well maintained, glossy and shedded.

“Do you know how to… sit?”

An adorable head tilt, and the big dog settles onto his hind quarters.

“What a good boy!” you croon. “So smart!”

He licks at your palm and wrist as you scratch at him, huge tail thumping. A canine grin, tongue lolling out as he waits for your next command.

You hum.

“Well, guess we can check if you’re microchipped, huh? Or at least I can get you some water. See if someone recognizes you…”

You make a kissy noise at him. “Let’s go, big boy. Come.”

And to your delight, he falls into step with you. He weaves along the path ahead and behind, but always loops back to you, brushing against your thigh as if to reassure you he’s still there.

You hum as you walk, giggling when you see his ears twitch and swivel towards you. Tease that he should do better if he doesn’t like your version of Jolene.

You only cross paths with two other people on the walk, a pair of guys clearly out for a more serious hike. The dog plants himself between you and them, ears pinning back and a low growl erupting from his chest. You startle a bit, carefully burying your fingers around his scruff in case you need to grab him quickly.

“I’m guessing he doesn’t belong to either of you, then?” you ask.

One of the guys shakes his head. The other gives you an odd look. “He’s not yours?”

The dog barks, loud and rough. You shush him, explain the situation to the hikers. But the dog never stops rumbling and they quickly go on their way, keeping a wide berth.

You huff. “Don’t like men, huh?”

Poor thing. Maybe he was abandoned by a mean owner?

“S’alright, bud, I’ll be good to you.”

He follows you all the way back to your home. And when you open the door, shoulders right past you.

“Ah, shit,” you groan. “You weren’t supposed to come in!”

He gives you an almost betrayed look. You try not to huff in amusement.

“So help me, if you bring nasty things in this house I will shave you. Shave you. You’ll look so silly. Like an overgrown raw turkey.”

The dog turns, trots back to you. You didn’t realize just how big he is until he’s got his big paws on your shoulders. You blink, have to take a step back to brace against the weight of him. In his hind legs he’s taller than you. Really could pass for a pure bred wolf.

A big, rough tongue licks from your jaw to your forehead. You scrunch up your face but end up laying a kiss on his muzzle in return.

“Alright, you big nasty. Down you get.”

You shut and lock the door behind you, brushing leaves and dirt off.

“Okay, shower first,” you say aloud, already tugging off your clothes. “Then we’ll run into town, see if we can track down your family.”

You don’t mind the dog staring, unblinking, as you strip down right there, balling things up to avoid tracking a mess through the house. Nor do you mind him following you to the bathroom, though you do push at his snout when he licks the back of your knee. Just normal dog things, really. They don’t get people stuff like clothes or boundaries.

“Stay out of trouble, bud. I’ll be right out.”

As you wash up, you consider the merits of adopting. Only if you can’t find the dog’s actual family, that is. It’s lonely in your little house sometimes - and a bit spooky at night. A big, protective dog might be just the thing.

Next

Masterlist

[ma1dita]

not your goddess

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> to see the chaos through | next -> don't blame the kids words: 8k holy shit this is the longest fic for this series so far summary: (established relationship (uhhhh, well…)) The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. Change in perspective is always good, but it makes you and Luke see your futures quite differently—you wonder if you’ll be together in it at all. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: mmmyeah this is a songfic - goddess by laufey. references to waiting for godot by samuel beckett if you squint

—

[ it always goes like this, could've predicted it || i'm so naïve to think you loved me for me, kissed as I ran off stage || you're too old to play this game, guess you're still growing up at thirty nineteen]

Once you open yourself up to someone and bare your soul to them in honesty, they get a choice whether they want to be with you or not. It’s as simple and as convoluted as that. Normal humans are complex as it is—but to be a demigod must mean to endure all of that and then some. Luke has been especially hard to reach lately, and trying to understand him feels like grappling wisps of smoke. You let him build his whole life around you without either of you realizing and suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in. Though maybe he always knew that—Luke Castellan is always intentional, and always full of surprises. 

“We should run away from here.”

His voice breaks through the crunching of dead leaves underfoot on your trek to the stables. It’s hard to tell if he’s joking, even harder to decipher when your eyes meet in the dim light hanging above the Dutch doors that you walk through. 

The two of you move as if partners in an orchestrated dance, the steps routine and not needing instruction; you fill up the water troughs and he steps around you to grab the bag of feed while his other hand grazes your waist, beckoning you to the next task. Most days are like this now, plotted out perfectly from sunrise to sunset. 

To be content means that most of it is predictable, and some might call it boring, but it comes with the inner satisfaction that what the both of you share is only yours. 

It’s peaceful.

Neither of you has ever really had that—and in your own way, both of you want to hold onto it for as long as you have it. Like how comets are always predictable; the knowing doesn’t make them any less beautiful.

“Let’s go now then,” you chuckle lightly, not looking at him as you shut off the hose. Bowie, your pegasus, brays in thanks as he dunks his muzzle into the trough, splashing water at your ankles. The water is frigid, a chill crawling up your spine and when you look up, Luke’s already staring at you solemnly, almost blending in with the shadows that drape over the barn. He stands there leaning against the wooden fence with his sharp, stone-faced features carved out by moonlight.

“Baby?” 

Eyebrows furrowing, you take a step towards him and he’s eerily still, holding a hand out for you. His fingers don’t shake once you intertwine them with your own and he’s so sure of himself that his resolve is like a suit of armor. What a funny thought—him needing protection from you of all people, the girl he lays bare with most nights and who knows him at his most vulnerable. 

“What do you think? Do I look like I’m joking?”

Luke’s words creak like metal hinges—coming off abrasive at the sight of your resistant expression. Truthfully, he hates it when you look at him like this—like there’s something wrong about him that you’re convinced you can fix. You don’t do it on purpose, but he’d like to think that you don’t think of him as one of your little DIY projects. This is different, calculated—his plans for the both of you will map out the rest of your future.

“Are…are you planning to leave?”

Though you hate to make the comparison, he’s a lot like his father: a one-track mind with only him knowing what’s coming next. Luke just expects everyone else to keep up, and you’re left feeling like someone’s pulled the rug out from under you as he holds onto your wrists firmly in the dim light. He’s nervous, even if he doesn’t show it. You can still tell by the way his voice cracks, a melancholy sound like he’s pleading for you to understand a hidden meaning you must’ve missed in the past few months of bliss.

 “We are,” he corrects, before his voice begins to falter, “I mean we can. We…we should,” he says tentatively, and your arms jerk forward with the motion as you stumble into his grasp, “Think of it, babe. We could get out of here and do something great. Make a life for ourselves.”

You squint.

He’s not even asking, and that makes it worse, you think—it’s like he’s already got one foot out the door. You’re not sure if he even considered you possibly saying no.

Are you?

Entertaining frivolous conversations that your boyfriend has with you before bed is one thing—but acting on them? The truth is that you’ve never afforded yourself a future outside of the reality that you have now. You never thought you’d have this after everything—running across the country to find your father and make this family in nowhere New York. It wasn’t a possibility that your 14-year-old self would’ve ever dreamed of. 

But then it happened, and you count your lucky stars that it led you to Luke. This is your home; you built it from the ground up with him the day you both stepped into your roles and washed your hands of stupid pranks. And maybe what you’ve always dreamt of is something you already have now.

Is that a crime? To like your reality better because it’s tangible—not everyone needs to be the main character in a sweeping saga. You do have a life, and you’d like to say it’s pretty alright, all things considered.

“Luke,” you swallow, face scrunching up in the way it does when he knows you’re about to say no, “I mean what about our responsibilities? What about…”

It was cute back when you were fourteen, but he now finds that he hates the way your nose scrunches up when you disagree with something, and it always makes him feel stupid for even asking in the first place. Luke steps away, dropping your hands as he sighs gruffly, “That’s a shit excuse, you know that, babe.” Dust kicks up from under his feet and you think he looks like a child about to throw a tantrum. The pegasi whinny softly behind you, and if they could talk it would probably be something like, Oh shit. Like a flip of a switch, he’s erratic, something pent up inside of him is now uncontrolled.

“I mean what do you want me to say, Luke? You want us to leave? Just disappear and leave Annie and Grover… and my brothers? What then? We don’t have money or degrees, or anywhere to go to—”

“We could make do—I mean we’ve both done it before Trouble, and now we can be together without all this. We don’t need camp. Or the gods’ blessings, I mean what did they ever do for us?” 

He’s tired, you think—because the Luke standing in front of you right now isn’t anything like the one you know. Your Luke loves your campers as much as you do; he’s the type that gives piggyback rides and teaches the little ones how to swim in Canoe Lake. He prays at every mealtime—twice as long because you don’t see the point in it, and likes to fall asleep against your chest in the twinkly lights of cabin 12.

The Luke you know would never want to run away from the home you’ve both created for yourselves. Not without a proper plan. Luke always says that he loves making plans just as much as he loves you, which must mean a lot.

You already have what you want, for now. That’s the contingency of it—for now. You just don’t see it getting better than this; finding camp meant finding yourself, and that’s what your mother always wanted for you. Having a real shot of being a family, even if your dad drives you nuts, and the twins like to fill the bathtub with root beer, and Annie constantly demanding she prove that she knows the first 500 digits of pi comes with the path you chose. 

Family—it’s what you were promised.

“We’re not ready, Luke. I mean… the real world out there is a lot worse than getting a C in archery or avoiding bathroom duty. We’ve still got some growing up to do—what’s the rush?”

He’s testy now—jaw swinging the crick in his neck and he does this when he’s about to say something mean, like the words have to fight their way out of his mouth, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Luke watches you look cluelessly at him like nothing he’s saying is making sense and it’s so frustrating that it makes his head hurt. What happened to you—his free-spirited girl who would follow wherever he leads? You don’t know how crucial this all is—Luke needs to know…

He needs to know if you’ll still follow him wherever he goes, even if it’s away from everything you have here.

But maybe you both imagined growing old together quite differently then.

“You’re making it sound like I’m in over my head about this when I know you don’t like it here. Listen to what I’m trying to tell you,” he bristles, hand leaning over the wooden beam above your head, “This place is getting old. We’re getting old. I want everything with you. Can’t you see that?” It feels like he’s caging you in, and he makes it sound so simple that it makes you laugh.

“Of course I do. All I’m saying is we should think this through more. I mean…We’re demigods. I’m not saying we can’t handle it and I’m not saying no, but—”, you barely finish the sentence before Luke interrupts you again. 

The difficulty with Luke is that when he wants something, he wants it with his entire being. And he never goes down without a fight—even when its with you.

“But you’re not saying yes. Then what are you saying? That you wouldn’t be happy with me?”

Rolling your eyes, you swing yourself out from under his arm and start taking off your apron because clearly, work is not on the agenda tonight. You fling it onto the hook before spinning around to look at him.

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I am happy with you. Here. Where it’s safe. Where we have beds to sleep in and food to eat and the only real reason I have to look over my shoulder is to see if my dad’s bribing your siblings to sneak him alcohol,” you say half-jokingly, and it so badly misses the mark as you see his brows furrow deeper into his forehead. 

“Give me a break,” he seethes, your name rolling out of his lips like acid and he has more to say but doesn’t know if he should. But he’s already started something and you’re just waiting for him to finish it. He has a habit of doing this, rolling the words around in his mouth for dramatic effect. 

This is gonna hurt.

“Oh just spit it out, Luke. Don’t whine like a baby.”

“Your dad? He’s a fucking joke. Can’t stand him half the time and I don’t know how you do,” he starts, pacing around you like a boxer in a ring. You stand still as a statue, eyes lit and tracking him in the dark as he continues, “You know I’m right. He’s just keeping you busy because now that he has you, he wants to control you. And you don’t even get a pat on the back.”

“You do not wanna go there, I can promise you that.”

“Well, I am. Because I’m tired of watching you waste your potential. You used to be so…exciting,” His arms swing around him like feathered wings and Luke shakes his head, turning away from you to look at the moon, “I need you to care about our future too, okay? Cut the shit and be a real fucking person for once and not whatever this little puppet show you put on for your dad is because it drives me crazy sometimes. All the time. I’m losing it, Trouble. Can’t you tell?”

It feels like a blow to the chest and you take a deep breath to placate your feelings in case they’re tampering with his—and you find that the anger is all his own. Your words shoot out like a lit cannon in rebuttal, “This drives you crazy? I didn’t know it was so hard on you, Luke. Poor you, picking up after me when you literally offer to help,” you scoff, stomping over to get him to look at you since he’s so intent on having this conversation, “Do you think you get granted immortality for checking off campers on your attendance log?” He can’t have thought it would be that easy, can’t have imagined you wouldn’t get defensive when things don’t go your way. Because it’s been like that for a while now, and Luke’s been falling off pace with life here. He’s not the all-star golden boy he used to be. Deep down, you know that too; he only likes it here because you do. They say with anything the first year is the hardest—and although he wouldn’t change a thing with your relationship, this took work. Loving you was supposed to be his reward, and it’s as if he doesn’t know you anymore. 

He’s not sure he knows himself that well anymore either.

“Of course not! That’s exactly what I’m saying—all of this won’t help us, so why are we exhausting ourselves instead of focusing on what’s important?” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the curls to anchor himself to this argument. And now you just want to strike back, to be damned with the consequences. Real love is a mirror, and although it's your first big fight…sometimes it hurts to be seen better than how you see yourself, and it hurts less to inflict it upon someone else instead of admitting that it hurts you.

“Oh so I’m exhausting to be with, is that it?”

He rips his apron off and tosses it at you, “Yes. Is that what you want me to say? You want a bad guy, you’ll get one. I don’t know what to—” His anger has always brewed like a storm—quiet and rumbling under the surface until he’s ready to strike. It comes down all at once and you’re covered in it with no way out but through. You bat the fabric to the ground angrily.

“You wanna repeat that?”

He laughs, a mocking, snarling sound, “You know what, it makes sense now—you’re just like your father. It all tracks!”

Your jaw tightens, pushing through by giving him another chance, testing him. Daring him.

“You wanna say that again?”

The wind picks up at his feet as he spins around you so fast it almost gives you whiplash, “Don’t give me that bullshit.” He’s tired and angry, but you’ve never seen this other side of him before—this ferocity that was unleashed at the idea of you wanting something he might not. Maybe you both are too similar then, too stubborn to give in until someone breaks.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Castellan. I’m warning you. Just because your dad hates you doesn’t mean that mine does.”

He laughs. 

Luke laughs like you’ve just told him you’ve put Chiron in another dress and that pigs can fly but then he looks at you… He looks at you with his chestnut brown eyes and they’re just empty, boring deep into your soul.

“What happened to you?”

It’s a weird feeling, to know someone so well that you can see the other side of them they can’t see for themselves. You haven’t got a single clue.

“I grew up. You were there, Luke. You helped me do it. I wanted to be just like you—the role model, the one that people like, and what, now that I'm not just some crazy idea in your head you’re bored?” 

Your voice cracks and so does a piece of Luke’s heart. You’re too tenderhearted, too good for him, and everything about you sends shockwaves through his being. This is what he told Kronos—even if you had it in you to force the gods to kneel and listen, would you be able to make the jump? Luke blinks, tuning back into your words.

“I mean you’re not even asking. It seems like you’ve made your decision for us. What does that mean to you? Us?”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, clearing his throat. His apology feels heavier than it should, and you can’t figure out why. He won’t let you find out if he even means it. 

“No, you’re not. You don’t even know what you’re sorry for, and now as soon as we’re happy, you get bored. You wanna talk about fathers, you’re just like yours too. Happy?” 

The words come out almost explosive, a shot in the dark and you didn’t think you’d say it, but you did. Thoughtless, without care, until it sinks into him like a sharp blade. Luke’s face hardens and you’re not sure how long he’s been standing so far away.

“Are we?”

It’s almost lights out and you’re still here arguing with Luke, so today was not as predictable as you thought it would be. Unease grips you by the scrap of your neck like a merciless kitten, holding on for dear life. This isn’t a feeling you should associate with the love of your life.

“What did you say?”

“Like you said, we’re demigods,” he says whispering your name, “what do we do now that we’re happy? That usually means something worse is coming up ahead.” Luke scoffs, half in disbelief at his own realization, the other half in defeat, “We’re meant for more than just being happy—that…this isn’t enough. We’re meant for glory, not shoveling pegasi shit and taking care of children instead of planning for a future with our own. This shouldn’t be the end of us.”

Your lip quivers, tongue in cheek and you need to touch something, hold someone, to remind yourself that this is happening. But you don’t reach out to him because if you get too close he’ll see the tears in your eyes. Grabbing the dandy brush, you trudge over to Bowie and rake it through his hair, mumbling, “I’m happy. I’ve got you,” you swallow, turning to Luke, “I love you.”

He’s already in the doorway, swinging the bottom panel closed with his hip as he looks over his shoulder, frowning.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Bowie brays next to you and it sounds like someone blowing a raspberry when they’re tired of a situation—maybe you are going crazy and they do understand—but one thing you do know is that you can’t understand Luke right now. 

The truth is that love is a bunch of horseshit, really.

[ oh, were you surprised by me when you took me home? || When the glamour wore off, reduced to skin and bone || i can't even tell who you want to know || i'm a goddess on stage, human when we're alone]

Your knees hit the dirt again, falling forward onto your hands as you dry heave. In the blink of an eye, you feel Maimer resting against the apex of your neck.

“Yield.”

Clarisse La Rue has barely broken a sweat during this spar, and yet here you are at her feet feeling like today’s breakfast will make a reappearance on the arena floor. The younger girl rolls her eyes as she pulls you up by the leather strap of your chest plate, sighing at the unnatural pallor of your skin as she flops onto a bench with your dead weight following suit as your knees buckle.

“You know, I knew you said you were bad at this, but are you even trying?” she scoffs, throwing a water bottle at you that you fumble in your hands. Winning never feels as good when the other person isn’t putting up a fight. You gulp down the icy refreshment, shutting your eyes for a moment to escape the blinding sun as you mutter, “Never been a fighter unless necessary, Risse. That’s all you.”

“Alright, enough of this.”

Your eyes wrench open as you lean back on your forearms to look at the daughter of Ares. At thirteen, she’s a force of nature on her own and unlike anyone else at camp, Clarisse would never mince her words for the sake of others’ feelings. You needed someone to tell it to you straight.

“You know everyone can tell when you and Luke fight, right? I mean it rarely happens but when it does it always feels like the world is out of balance until you both fix it.”

You groan, throwing your arm over your face and unintentionally hiding from her. That couldn’t be true—the world does not revolve around whether or not a daughter of Dionysus and a son of Hermes had their shit together.

But Camp Half-Blood does.

“You’re lying, La Rue. It’s really not that deep.”

And then she looks at you like you’re stupid, which might be her customary expression for anyone else but to you—well, she at least respects you. For now, unless you keep whining like a badly written love interest.

“Gods, woman. You were so much cooler back then, what the hell happened to you?”

“Clarisse, it isn’t that easy—-” you grumble, putting your face in your hands as you stare at the dirt. Of course, you know that everyone knows, secrets run through Camp Half-Blood like running water. It slips through your fingers easily, soaking through the ground until everyone’s stuck in the mud. Your boots sink slightly into the softening earth and Clarisse realizes you’re crying before you do. 

Why the fuck are you crying? 

It was a stupid argument and it probably doesn’t mean anything but for once, you don’t know what to do. It feels stupid that your body decided to cry before your brain could come to the conclusion. This all feels so stupid.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry, weirdo,” she mumbles, unsure of what to do with a crying head counselor. Her calloused hands rub small circles into your back, and she can’t help but think you need more girlfriends your age. Scooting closer to you, she says, “What I meant was that you were way cooler when you didn’t give a shit about what people think about you, much less Luke Castellan. You’re starting to sound like you’re from 10, and I swear Sil is the only tolerable person from that cabin. Stop crying, please…”

You sniff, “Ugh… This is so dumb. Just lost myself for a second.” The statement rings true, and it bothers you more than you thought it would. There is so much more to you than playing the part of the agreeable girlfriend, the caretaker, the perfect daughter, that if you stared at yourself in the mirror you might not recognize who’s staring back. So many parts to play, and so little of you left.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is,” Clarisse sighs, “and I’m no good at this feelings shit, but I think you need to remember that you’re allowed to be someone without him…without all of this. And you owe it to yourself to find out who that is.” You look up at her with watery eyes, tucking hair behind your ear as if it’ll help you absorb her words better. 

You can’t believe you’re getting sound advice from a thirteen-year-old, much less a child of Ares on matters of love. 

“It’s nice to be needed,” you mumble, “my greatest honor, I think. But it might also be my downfall.” 

Clarisse smiles crookedly like she’s watching you through a fresh set of eyes. There’ll be no words of this conversation once you leave the arena—the both of you have a friendship unlike most girls here at camp. Never touchy-feely, typical girl talk, but always what you need to hear. 

“How terrifyingly human of you. Yuck.”

“I can’t go on like this,” you groan, slumping further into your folded-over position and she sighs, going to take a sip from her water bottle before squeezing your shoulder.

“That’s what you think.”

[ you took a star to bed, woke up with me instеad || you must have felt so damn decеived when you made up a version of me that you thought you loved || but I am not your Aphrodite ]

When you were fifteen years old and he was just a month shy of it, you had somehow convinced Luke Castellan to run away from camp with you. 

This was back then. Just for a day—just for the tiniest taste of freedom. 

Luke had been at camp for almost a year, and Rye Playland sounded so much cooler than food service with the nymphs—which is one of the few things he would agree with you on. The both of you had kitchen duty for two weeks after getting caught attacking each other during Capture the Flag despite being on the same team, and it ended up with you ripping the fabric off the stick and chucking it into the middle of Canoe Lake. He’s lucky you didn’t lunge for his head, but the game was forfeit, and cabin 6 didn’t talk to you two for weeks because you threw the game. Including Annie, which was a surprising feat in itself.

After that day, you swore to never do anything Luke made himself in charge of and Chiron swore you two would never be on the same team again. You could remember D’s voice that day and how it boomed through the Big House, reminiscent of his father—a crackle of fury and impalpable seriousness that had Luke shaking slack-jawed in the chairs facing the mahogany desk. He’d never been told off by a parent before, much less an Olympian.

Taking it in stride even as the god threatened to turn you both into dolphins, you mimed the conversation when your father’s back turned, copying the odd quirk in D’s brow and conjuring a mouthful of grapes for teeth. You grinned at the son of Hermes like an idiot, a singular ripe sphere shooting out to make an audible thwack against D’s red Hawaiian shirt that made Luke laugh the loudest, ugliest guffaw you’ve ever heard him let out. He choked on his spit when the god jerked his head back to face the both of you like a comic-book villain.

Honestly, he might’ve peed himself a little. Just a tiny bit.

And the god of insanity himself was at his wits’ end—which is rare for him, very few things can get him to that point. Even less so with people. Pathetic, puny, little people he can drive to madness and violent death. 

But not his baby girl—you know every last nerve to step on, a lot like your mother sure, but still all him in every way it mattered. He loved it, even when he was mad at you like this. He just wasn’t good at showing it, and you knew that to some extent. Plus, you can’t take a man in a Hawaiian shirt seriously, much less a god.

So you and your self-proclaimed archnemesis (frenemy, Luke insists) find yourselves running down Farm Road before first light, leaving nothing but a trail of dust behind you as you rush to catch the LIRR at a stop two towns over.

It was a small amusement park filled with different money-grabbing oddities, tooth-rotting confections, and rickety, squeaking rides that the conductors could fold into suitcases at the end of the day.

Sketchy, but so much fun. You made Luke go on all the kiddie rides with you and screamed your head off like a lunatic; he apologized to the parents of a toddler and said you had too much sugar—but that was a lie, this was all you in your natural state. Berry chapstick, wind-tousled hair, and a smile brighter than a spotlight. And your laughter, oh, your laughter shook the walls of the funhouse even after you crashed into the fifth mirror being too busy poking fun at the wonder in Luke’s eyes because it was the first time he’s genuinely done something for fun and not out of necessity. It was nice, and so were you, for once.

It was the first time you’d let your guard down for him, he thinks back—watching you toss a ball so badly off target from milk bottles set across the booth. You twisted in his grasp (he doesn’t remember getting so close, Luke still swears he was trying to help you aim) pouting at him with those pretty plum eyes and he sighed so deeply you smelled the cotton candy on his breath. For a moment you wondered if he tasted like it too—and then the worker asked if you’ll be trying again and you went, “Hmm? Maybe he’d be better at it!”

Luke rigged the shot with the snap of his finger, all the milk bottles falling to the ground with a crash and he swore on his life he’d sell out every single one of these stupid games if it gets you to bite your lip at him like that again.

There isn’t a single hint of regret that passed that entire day—you were already in trouble, so you both figured that you might as well enjoy it. By late afternoon, your legs felt like jelly and it felt less like you dragging him around the fairgrounds and more like holding onto him for support (because there’d be no other reason you’d want to hold his hand, your stomach just felt funny…that’s all!) Luke was wolfing down a funnel cake, the powdered sugar dust getting all over his shirt and he looked up to see you staring at him with a shit-eating grin.

Hand pointed in the air, Luke simply shakes his head.

“Fuck no.”

But you always had a way of convincing him to do things (Luke is a sucker susceptible to double dog dares) and the both of you are surprised he let you because sooner rather than later, you’re sat knee to knee in a tiny, screeching Ferris wheel cart that inched 100 feet into the sky. The white paint was peeling at his fingertips and the air was warm—Luke tried to focus on that instead of the fact that he was in a metal death chamber in the sky.

“Never imagined a son of Hermes would be scared of heights,” you grinned, nudging him with your foot. You’ve folded into yourself, hugging your knees as you looked at him and he thought that he might be having a heart attack at the ripe age of fourteen and three-quarters. But the pink and purple rays of the waning sun framed you so nicely that he wished he brought a camera—he had the silly photobooth strips from earlier tucked into his pocket, but you looking like that; Luke had etched it into his memory for safekeeping. Not only was he able to breathe a bit easier, but if there was a memory he could materialize from today—it’d be you grinning maniacally through the bars of the cart, pointing at the city in the distance. 

“We’ve finally found something you’re not good at, golden boy,” you grinned, tilting your head to the side and inspecting him like he was a sad hamster in a glass ball.

“M’not scared of heights, I'm just scared of falling,” he reasoned, looking at the rusted floor. You were making your boots dance along to the beat of the fair music, tapping along to the cyclical rhythm. He was more scared of the lack of control he had at this moment—any of the other crazy rides, Luke had stood at the tiny gate next to the conductor holding the plush avocado he won for you, watching and hearing you scream for joy as the machines flung you into the air. The ones he did go on were relatively tamer, and by the third kiddie coaster, he realized that you probably whooped for joy just to make him feel better.

You kissed him on the cheek that day, so close to his mouth (but not close enough) when the Ferris wheel ultimately screeched to a stop. A necessary distraction, you said—but you weren’t sure for who. He tasted sugar-sweet and smelled like the late summer sun. You had never kissed a boy before, unsure if you’d even know how, or if Luke would even want to if you did.

The thought passed when you realized his fingers were clenched and white-tipped onto the guardrails and you…you’re terrible, so you started rocking back and forth, giggling until he yelled at you to stop, pulling you into his lap. 

The conductor thought you two were doing something way less innocent, and you both got kicked out of Rye Playland afterward—but you got your money’s worth.

Well, you both snuck in and Luke definitely pickpocketed someone’s mom.

All in all, it was a great day.

You fell asleep on his shoulder on the way back home, the Long Island Railroad car chilly with the AC. Watching you drool, he thought he might even like traveling again if it’s for fun like this, might even hate his dad less too. Luke threw his whole dinner into the hearth that night with a bright smile on his face even after Mr. D yelled at the both of you in front of everyone at the dining pavilion. After all, the only factor in his life that’s changed in the past year, an addition, if you must— was you.

[ you took me for a fool, you stole my youth, you wanted this so much || you watched me rise then killed my light || and now you know I'm not your fucking goddess ||  oh, i'm no goddess when i'm alone ]

Work is work.

That’s what you’ve both been telling yourselves throughout an already rough week gone even worse, but trying to avoid your significant other is an especially difficult task when you work together. 

It’s the simple truth—you can’t ignore someone you have to talk to primarily because of these two factors: 1. Capture the Flag teams need to be sorted by Thursday mornings to be ready to play on Friday afternoons, and 2. it is weird for campers to see you two not interacting with each other.

Well, it’s Friday now, and you and Luke haven’t talked since that argument in the barn. 

Kind of, but the times you have didn’t count—the past few days have been both of you talking around other people; not directly to each other. Last night at dinner, Chris stared at you like one does when their parents are thinking of getting a divorce, eyes flickering between you two and his cheeseburger. Luke was sitting next to you on the bench blankly picking the tomatoes off his sandwich and you were staring glumly at your slice of pizza.

“Is there something going on between you two?”

He was one of the few brave enough to be blunt about it. You and Luke were all-consuming, like a black hole. It’s hard for others not to notice the gravitational pull, but when it’s bad…. everyone and everything gets sucked in, whether they like it or not. 

“Lee was excited to hear that your cabin is teaming up with them tomorrow. It’ll be quite interesting, all of you with 7 and 9,” you said, wiping grease off the slice with a napkin. Luke’s head jerked in your direction at your words, “Dude what—Chris! I thought I signed off on working with 6? We don’t work with Apollo for a reason,” he hissed, leaning over the table towards his brother. Chris scratched the back of his neck, knowing Luke was right. Cabin 7 isn’t that good in all matters that involve stealth—the last time they worked with them, Austin was scatting under his breath and it got them ambushed by the red team. Opening his mouth to speak, you quickly interjected, “Well it’s about time to change it up—keeps things exciting, don’t you think, Chris?”

Luke sighed, redirecting his brother’s focus to him, “What do you think, man? I just think when it comes to battle strategies we should stick to what works.” Chris swallowed, raising his hand in the air; he was grappling at the edge of a cliff just trying to hold on to either of you—he looked around to see if there was a way out of this. Next to him, Ethan averted his eyes and played with his carrot sticks.

“Funny how that works for battle strategies and not other things,” you hummed around a mouthful of pizza, “Don’t you think, Chris? I just think that you never want to be predictable in these things. It makes everything boring. Or so I’ve heard,” you munched thoughtfully, daring the son of Hermes to break eye contact with you as Luke scoffed, tossing his napkin onto his plate before standing up. He walked off without a second glance, throwing everything into the hearth—plastic tray included, and stormed off toward the cabins. The rest of the table minded their business, shoveling food into their mouths. Chris choked on a french fry.

And you smirked, satisfied at the small win. 

But now, almost a day later tramping through the sodden dirt of the North Woods in heavy body armor, you remind yourself that it is so very hard to prove a point to Luke Castellan. He finds you halfway through the game as you hold onto the red flag post, standing tall at the vantage point and looking like a stone grotesque protecting the area you’re surveying. By the time you notice, a blur of cobalt whizzes towards you—knocking out the three Ares kids standing guard around the perimeter. You gasp, raising a hand sending vines hurtling toward the air until you see him hanging upside down by the ankles, wrapped in green leaves and purple bunches of grapes. Luke’s headwear falls to the earth with a clang.

“I’m not here for the flag!”

You rush over, dropping the pole and sighing, “Luke…you scared me! I thought you were with Beck today.” The blood rushes to his head as he looks at you all out of focus. Seeing you the other way around gives him a new perspective on things—the epiphany almost makes him ache, but that might also be the pressure pooling in his forehead. You brush your thumb against his cheek before letting him down slowly, and all he does is look at you.

“We need to talk.”

“Like, actually this time?” you mumble, hugging yourself as you watch the vines unravel from his limbs and sink back into the ground. You’ve always been a good actress and Luke was the best liar around—this shared penchant for fabricating the truth used to make you one and the same.

It is more obvious now that actors and liars are wholly different; actors live in an imaginary world given to them, while liars strive to create it for themselves. There’s that saying—don’t hate the player, hate the game.

Luke finds that he’s starting to hate all of it.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “we can’t keep ignoring this, Trouble.” It takes a special kind of sadness to feel lonely even when you’re with someone. You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your spirit sink into the ground below you, almost resigning yourself to what will happen next. All the petty backtalk, the times you’ve crawled into bed with him already pretending to be asleep— it all comes down to this. There’s this French word that Annie had taught you a few days ago when you spent extra time snuggled up in her bunk, partially to catch up with your favorite girl and partially… to waste more time before going home to him. 

Énouement—-The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future and seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

“Luke…” you start, watching him sheath Backbiter with a casual flick of his hand, “Would you go back if you could? Before…” Barely able to string your words together, he notices your lip quivering, “Did you like me more back then?”

“Baby…” he sighs, going to wrap his arms around you and you hold onto him in return at arm's length.

“I’m really trying…” you choke out, pressing your lips to hold in the onslaught of things you want to say. To understand? To apologize? The words die out on your tongue.

“I know. You’re always trying, Trouble. That might just be the saddest part.”

Wind whirls through your hair, pushing you against him for shelter as you gather your thoughts. In the silence of the woods, you wonder how many moments you’ve spent drawn to him like this for comfort. Luke’s always there for you, whether you like it or not. For better or worse—you wonder if there won’t be a lot of chances to hold and be held, and you can’t seem to let go.

“I didn’t change, okay? I’m still me. People don’t change, just like the gods don’t. I just don’t see us away from this,” you swallow, tracing a finger over his bicep to distract your burning eyes, “we can’t escape who we are Luke. Me and you. Isn’t that enough for now?”

He lets out a sigh and you know his answer; his shoulders sink low enough that your hold on him loosens ever so slightly. At this rate, you think it’d be easier if he’d just pull the trigger—maybe it would hurt less than this.

“I’ll change the gods’ minds and make them agree. They’ll know us, babe. The glory—”

Everything around you blurs as you hone in on your anger. This whole forest could go up in flames and you wouldn’t give a damn,”Oh FUCK glory! Just love me and that’s enough! Why can’t that be enough? Why can’t you stop running from me for once, Luke!” Your plea comes out like a wail and you push him away, feeling disgusted by what’s come of this conversation. You were never a beggar—the only thing left to do was kneel in the dirt and beg him not to break up with you. Before you can think of the irrational thought any further he shakes his head, almost growling, “How do you still not get it? It’s because I love you is why I can’t.”

“Listen, I love you too, babe. I just…don’t know if I like you right now.”

That’s not fair. He’s sacrificing the entire trajectory of his life and you can’t figure out if you like him? You don’t know the lengths he would go to, can’t fathom the obstacles he would conquer just to make sure that you and him have it all. And you’re not even trying to see it his way—to even imagine that he could make it possible.

Things couldn’t stay the same forever, that you could both agree on.

“You’re all talk, you know that, Trouble? You’re just mad that I want this life more than you. And you know I’d actually do what I need to do to get it. Would you?” he nudges you roughly, “Talk to me! This is your time to get it all out of your system. Say that I wouldn’t do anything for you. You know I would.” Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks; he hates watching you cry. It’s the whole reason he signed away his soul—he wants the world you live in to be a place where gods bow down to you and dry your tears, not cause them. Luke would topple Olympus in an instant if it meant you wouldn’t look at him like he’s a lost cause.

“That’s not fair, you haven’t even answered a single question I’ve asked you. It’s like you’re not even listening to me, Lu—”

“Not fair?”

Groaning, you turn away from him. The flag post you dropped earlier is long gone now—the game is still on and the world keeps spinning whether you like it or not. But you’re disinterested in all that now.

“Do you even hear yourself? To you, I’m still the girl on the Ferris wheel,” you sniff, wiping your nose with your sleeve. His hands squeeze your shoulders, begging, pleading for you to understand, “Is that a bad thing? You tell me you haven’t changed—I’m protecting her because you won’t. I’m getting her the hell out of here because I know she deserves more than this. Look around you,” he whispers your name against your neck, “We could forget all of this.” 

But that’s just not who you are. Your shoulders tremble as you hold them up under the pressure. Sure you could see what he’s saying—there isn’t a single future you can imagine without Luke in it. The house, the kids…but more than that you just want to belong somewhere. And Camp Half-Blood is where you belong. With him. 

“I don’t want everything, Luke. I just want you. And if you don’t want this, I need you to tell me now. Because I’m tired,” you warble, digging your nails into your palms, “ and I’m sick of this game. I feel like neither of us are winning.” You take a step back to look at him—sunlight filtering through his hair, eyes wistful and contemplative.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

And there it is. He’s already made his decision, whether he admits it or not. A horn blares overhead, followed by the sounds of cheering. You don’t know who won, and you don’t really give a shit if we’re being real right now. 

“Does it even matter?”

There’s a frozen look on your face like you’ve been struck by lightning, half between a crooked smile and subtle surprise. It’s a knowing look, Luke thinks, what he can see of you through half-lidded lashes and grief. He thinks years from now, if he even makes it that far, it’ll all come back to this moment in the North Woods, and you, the girl he was in love with at nineteen.

“It’s not even worth it now I guess,” he whispers. It makes you laugh—even your laughter sounds sad now. 

It seems that even breaking up with you is an inconvenience.

You sniff, wiping your face and looking around. Everyone’s gone already and Chiron will be looking for you two soon, “Then it’s not worth it. Because you say so… and we’ve got work to do.” Your watch beeps. 

Dinner service starts soon, but before you both head over to the pavilion, you and Luke are expected to set up the bonfire. He nods, loosening the straps of his chestplate, just something to do with his hands, “I know.”

“I don’t want to go. I’m not ready to leave this all behind yet. I’m still needed here.” Until your coming of age ceremony. Until your heart calls you elsewhere and your family can stand on their feet. 

Until then.

Somewhere, you hear Annabeth calling out to you, the melody of both of your names traveling through the trees. You and Luke turn your heads in that direction, before looking at each other once more. He licks his lips, “I know that. We should get back to it, then.” There’s no use doing this all alone, he thinks. And there’s a part of you that thinks there is no use for you when you’re alone.

“We should.”

Neither of you move. 

The winter solstice is tomorrow and there is much work left for the both of you to do.

—

I don’t understand how he grows colder from the same love that warms me. I didn’t know we loved differently—him partly, less and less, and I entirely. - JNH / @shatteredjuvenileday

[clearwingedmaven]

As voted by the people, I'm offering my analysis on the Hound of the Baskervilles.

Firstly, and getting this out of the way, I adore the Hound of the Baskervilles. My chosen area of focus in my Master's Program was Gothic Literature, and this novel hits all of my favorite aspects of the field.

But there's more to it that I've noticed.

Chiefly among them being that most of the novel focuses on Watson, rather than Sherlock Holmes. While yes, it may have been a product of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle being bitter that he was forced to bring Holmes back, for this novel in particular, I think it's brilliant.

It operates under the premise that this Hound, this creature, is a Fairy Tale come to life and stalks the moor to bring death to all of those of the Baskerville family. In this sense, Watson, as he normally is a vehicle for the audience, is also a purveyor of a Legend come to life.

Watson, even if Sherlock Holmes is never quite Gothic, never quite horror, becomes a Gothic protagonist the more he lives in Dartmoor and learns about the family. But he's an evolution of a Gothic protagonist, too.

By the 1890s, the Decadence movement primarily took up the reins of Gothic Literature, creating what we know as fin-de-siecle, or the turn of the century. Many protagonists of this age fell to sin, corruption, and hedonism, such as the case of Dorian Gray.

(I find it fitting to use Dorian Gray, as Oscar Wilde and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle met over a meal that lead to the creation of both A Study in Scarlet and the Picture of Dorian Gray.)

But Watson? He remains steadfast in his nature. He never falls to the era defining corruption and sin, and, even evolves in his deductive reasoning when he finally finds and reunites with Holmes towards the end of the novel.

Even still, he still is, a Gothic protagonist, alongside Sir Henry. They navigate the Baskerville home on the Moor, a crumbling, haunted place, ripe with ancestral sin.

That is what defined the time, even if Watson never falls to sin and corruption. Decadence and fin-de-siecle were defined by all things falling to sin, decay, and rot. What was once glamorous and majestic of the preceding Aesthetic movement had rotted away, underneath.

And, given that Holmes and Watson reunite towards the end of the novel, they yet again defy the era's expectation of Gothic Literature. Their presence is hope, a light in the corruption that drags at the Baskerville family name. While by definition, perhaps a deus ex machina, it works brilliantly.

After all, who else could you go to, when there's a beast of legend killing your family?

As for the Hound itself. It alone is one of the greatest images of late Gothic horror I know. A coal black hound, muzzle shrouded in flame and phosphorous and snapping at your heels... it indeed installs primal, Gothic terror. It makes you ask, what's real? What's not? Can I even trust my reality anymore?

And it's also something that Holmes, for all of his brain and power of the mind, does not know. It invokes a sense of delicious, morbid terror, that while amazed, our detective is just as in the dark as we are before the Hound is killed. And it again, creates another layer of vulnerability that we don't normally get to see.

Lastly, the Hound is also fantastic in invoking the Black Dog Fairy Tales of Europe and beyond. A lot of cultures have a tale, from the Cu-Sith of the Celts, to the Black Dogs roaming England. It strikes fear, because it is used as one of the bases for what we form logic around, as Fairy Tales and folklore so often do for children throughout history.

Perhaps Stapleton knew about this, and preyed upon it on purpose? It's fascinating to think about.

All in all, this is why I adore this novel. Gothic Literature, character evolution, and Fairy Tales...? It's brilliant.

[inferno-0]

Sorrow / All Titans x reader / (Headcanons)

────────────────────────────

Your sad mood greatly affects the Titans. Let's see what they will do in such situations

Sorry for the English

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Godzilla

* I think he will cheer you up in every way. Starting from a gentle poke of the muzzle in the back and ending with swimming on the ocean in order to somehow develop your head, clouded from despondency.

* If you do ask to be alone while he is trying to calm you down, he will do it. Of course, the Titan will not take its eyes off you.

* In another situation, when you

want to share your problem, then Godzilla will listen to you carefully.

Although he doesn't really understand human problems and how big they are for you, he will still try to give you the best advice.

* Or you can make it simpler. Take a nap with him in the colosseum. In the event that helicopters infiltrate the lair, its tail will push them out of the way if a warning growl does not help.

Mothra/Mosura

* With this Moth, we can already consider that all problems are solved. It understands the magnitude of your burden, soothing you with a soft chirp that caresses your mind.

* Go to her for advice, as if to a psychologist. But you don't need any money or anything else for this.

Just give her a happy smile.

* Mothra, the whole personification of her own Mother. Do you want a hug?  A kiss on the back of the head? Anything, sunshine.

The main thing is your joy at the moment.

Because it hurts her to watch your sad face, from which bitter tears are almost dripping.

* But if you need solitude and just to reflect on yourself, she will give it. Just don't draw harsh conclusions.

In any case, stay with her and share everything that disturbs your soul.

Rodan

* I don't think that you can somehow come to despondency with him. Joke after joke and all despairs are forgotten in an instant.

* You automatically develop laughter at the sight of him. Even if he does something normal for both of you, you still giggle quietly.

Rodan is too charismatic, that's all.

* But if you're really desperate, which even Rodan can't remove. There is already an emergency here. Titan panics and just doesn't know where to go. Since he is not too good at advice and in the end you have to calm him down, not you.

Which makes you really laugh.

* This Kaiju is not stupid enough to raise his problems above yours. He will remember the moments and words you said during his bad mood. How they supported and praised.

But there are great difficulties with the council.

* Rodan still wants to help you, despite his flaws, which he hides behind a wall of humor.

King Ghidorah

* First of all, who? And secondly, who to destroy? Such questions haunt you when these Three notice your depressed mood.

Ni intends to kill those offenders in the same way as Ichi, who can't see your sad face. These two do not seem to understand at all what to do, except for bloody murders.

If only Kevin purrs your side in his own way, trying to cheer you up.

* When they find out your reason for being sad, they are a little confused. Especially because there is no such person who has morally ruined you. It's just your problem that ruined your mood.

* But. These three are ready to listen to you at any time. And it doesn't matter if it's a big problem or a stupid one. Just cheer up with the cold breeze around Ichi's neck and fly to create storms over cities, spilling out emotions.

The rest will pass.

* Although they are cruel, they have interesting ways to send joy.

King Kong

* He knows how to support. Of course, he also does not understand half of it, but he gets away with saying something nice about you.

If it weren't for Jia...

Which also once, no, still supports him in certain situations.

* Kong can also pat you on the head, although it is more like ruffling your hair in different directions, from which you have to spit out.

But this is not bad, it lifts the mood.

* If you need to be alone, then good. He understands this and knows what it is like to want to be alone for a while. Just be careful.

* Kong is also good at advice to some extent. The main thing here is for you to understand what this Titan is trying to convey to you.

Shimo

* This girl already understands everything and accepts all your heavy burden. Your sad mood greatly disturbs this Titan, she just can't help but turn

* But sometimes you are ashamed to talk about your problems, given the situation in which your companion found herself. Moreover, she was able to survive it and walks around with a fresh memory about it.

* Her eyes are too charming... Especially the muzzle, which leans to the side in an interesting way. You just can't keep sharing your problems when you have such a miracle in front of you. All thoughts just float behind your back.

* Shimo gently nudges you to the side as a sign of support. Convincing that all problems will pass over time, the main thing is not to go down and not to lose self-control.

* If everything is really bad for you, then she will allocate a whole day and night for you. Share, complain. Whatever you want.

She will listen to you attentively, purring.

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[bogleech]

Extremely long post about how you’re now allowed to erase your neopets faces (NEOPETS IS GOOD AGAIN: YOU CAN ERASE THEIR FACES.)

I have just learned that neopets recently added some wearable (neocash only though) items called the “be-gone cans” that let you hide different body parts, so there’s like eyes-be-gone and wings-be-gone.

There’s a lot of caveats (the mouth one for some reason is locked behind a gacha capsule, the “body” one only removes minor extra details from the torsos of a few species, they don’t all work on all pets and they don’t even work on the same exact parts of the same species in different colors because of how they were coded) but at minimum ALL pets can at least have the eyes and mouths removed and this alone improves countless, countless designs. For instance if you didn’t like some of the invertebrate variants stuck with the pet’s usual face, now you can fix it:

Same for the fruit and vegetable chias, they're SO good without faces, for reference here’s the mushroom chia with the horrible face all chias normally have:

Awful. Just ghastly.

Now you can correct him and make him good:

Look how fucking cute some of the other chias are this way:

This is a fucking game changer, I actually care about neopets for the first time in a decade because I can take their faces off. They were born for this. They were waiting almost 30 years to be freed from their disgusting foul orifices. “Help me, mother” they say, “I am cursed with a mouth and can therefore all too easily scream!” as their famous catchphrase always went I think. At last their salvation is here. I mean, look at this sad lenny:

We all know exactly why he’s canonically always so miserable! If there’s one thing he hates more than having legs to touch the earth’s filth and corruption it’s being able to see it.

Now he’s happy! He wants this!

And now he’s even happier i’ll bet!!!!!!!!!!

If you take the muzzle piece off the scorchio it even liberates their whole head from their neck as their god intended:

Legit though some pets actually make better serious designs besides the nudibranch one, like if you take the eyes off any of the (already badass) transparent pets you get their deep abyssal cave version:

Now look at some of the transparent pets with everything taken away that can be taken away:

The uni is finally almost unrecognizable as an equine, its life long dream

This isn’t like any of the dog designs in any of the silent hill games but it could exactly have been a dog design in a silent hill game, you know??

God bless whatever artist refused to give the insectoid Ruki a normal vertebrate skeleton so you can make this gelatinous flying space angel

But god bless whoever DID give the insectoid Buzz a vertebrate skeleton so you can make this HR Giger parasite embryo. Actually cannot pick between the two bug pets here as my new favorite neopets that are still technically available. THESE WINGS HAVE BEEN RETIRED SINCE 2012 OR I WOULD MAKE THIS PET:

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 27

Voiceless - Labatory - Muzzled - "I have no mouth and must scream"

Whumpee slowly blinked in the newly turned on lights of the lab.

They peaked out of their cell to see who had disturbed them this morning.

"Good morning Whumpee", Whumper called from the opposite side of the room. Already knowing the rat couldn't stand the bright lights so early in the morning, "I'm in and out really quick, so you can go to sleep again. I just want to check on your surgery sight. I believe your laryngectomy was successful, but we need to watch your healing. I may also start your feeding tube a little earlier then normal. "

Whumpee remembered the tube just then. It was hard to get comfortable with it there, but they would be in trouble if they took it out.

Whumpee's cage was opened, and a small computer was placed in front of them.

"So how are you feeling?", Whumper walked away to wash their hands and glove up.

Whumpee looked at the screen and started to press word options that fit how they felt.

"Tired... sore.... angry.... sad."

"I understand", Whumper sighed, "it wasn't in my plans to do that surgery. Your larynx was badly damaged from the accident. It was in your best interest to fully remove it. You screamed in a lot of that chemical. You remember?"

Whumpee nodded weakly as they remembered. They couldn't even blame Whumper either. It wasn't Whumper that hurt them. They had to do the surgery because of how uncomfortable Whumpee felt after the experiment.

"That is the last time I let a student, quote on quote, try something", Whumper frowned, "you almost clawed out your throat, remember?"

Whumpee nodded, "remember", they tapped on the screen.

"Let's see here", Whumper came over, "you said it felt sore?"

Whumpee nodded, "and looked at the screen."

"Go ahead", Whumper pointed at the computer.

"Itchy....2", Whumpee frowned.

"Please don't itch it. I know it's hard, but do not touch the spot", Whumper studied the surgery sight, "it looks alright for right now. We will clean it later. Do you need some pain meds."

Whumpee signed yes with their hands.

"Alright", Whumper nodded.

"Why... nice?", Whumpee looked at them curiously as the computer spoke.

Whumper turned to them and grinned, "I can be nice when I want to", they held a glass vile up in the light for a better view, "like I said that test was done without me being aware of what they were doing. You got injured accidentally and you had to go through a unplanned major surgery."

Whumpee looked at them worriedly.

"Would you have preferred the fried vocal cords?", Whumper filled a syringe with the medicine, "you still wouldn't have been able to talk like that either, and it would hurt. Once this heals, you won't be in pain."

Whumpee nodded.

"Thankyou Whumper for fixing me", Whumper mocked in a funny voice, "oh your welcome Whumpee."

Whumpee grinned at the mockery.

"Here, let's get this into you. We might as well start your feeding cycle", Whumper came up to the cage, "that's another thing. Once this is done, you should be able to eat normally."

Whumpee nodded again, then offered their arm.

"Alright, here we are", Whumper said while concentrating, "do you want a sticker on your bandaid?"

Whumpee smiled weakly and nodded.

"You are the only reason I even have stickers. You know that right? I've never once had a sticker to offer a lab rat until you sarcastically asked for one, and a student bought you a sticker. Now I have an entire drawer full", Whumper meticulously placed the sticker just right onto the bandaid, "though I suppose it has gotten you and a few others to be more willing to work with me on experiments. So that's a plus", Whumper smiled as they stuck another sticker on Whumpee's forehead.

"Do you need anything before I get the feeding started?", Whumper walked away to get rid of the needle.

"Bathroom", Whumpee tapped the button.

"Oh yeah, you are probably dying by now. Here I am taking my time", Whumper hurried back.

They reached in and cradled Whumpee before pulling them out of the cage. Then carried them to the bathroom.

When done Whumper carried them out and set them on an operation table.

"Let's get you out of your cage for a few minutes while I mix your feeding cocktail bag", Whumper grinned, "don't jump off. You're still weak from the surgery."

Whumpee hung their legs off of the side of the table and swung them back and forth. If they could have. They would have hummed to annoy Whumper. They didn't want to attempt trying it though. Whumper had said they maybe would be able to vocalize some things, but language was gone completely.

Whumper watched them from the corner of their eye.

"I know you probably won't go straight to sleep once you get locked back up, but you need to rest", Whumper spoke over their shoulder, "this feeding will probably take you until lunch, you need to remember to lay on the pillow so you remain elevated. Let me know if something doesn't feel right."

Whumpee nodded, though Whumper hadn't looked at them yet.

Whumper flushed the line and set up Whumpee's feed.

"We will need to replace this line today as well", Whumper sighed, "everything will have to be replaced. Which is another reason why I wouldn't have planned this. Surgeries are annoying, especially when they have to be done correctly. My lab rats are not expendable. I can't just replace one if they get badly injured or die. This new set of students are driving me crazy. Human life is dangerous to play with. Especially with how I play. It's a waste of resources, which then is a waste of money."

Whumpee shrunk back farther into their cage as they listened to Whumper.

Whumper sighed, then looked at Whumpee lovingly, "none the less, you lab rats are my babies. So you deserve the best I can offer."

Whumpee nervously smiled.

"Alright, so I'll be at my desk. Do you want to play a game on here while you rest", Whumper picked up the computer and switched to a different app, "I know I said I'd be in and out, but I might get some work done, and I don't want you unsupervised."

Whumpee quickly nodded and got close again.

"There you go", Whumper smiked as they handed the computer to Whumpee and closed the cage door.

Whumpee quickly started to play the familiar game of squashing the bugs on the screen. It was their favorite.

Whumper watched them for a few moments to make sure the feeding was going in properly. Plus, Whumpee was absolutely adorable with that concentrating look on their face.

"My sweet little lab rat", Whumper chuckled as they walked their desk, "such a good pet."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

[yanderepuck]

Event where the yokai get turned into their lil guy forms

Yeah. They are called lil guys. Idc if Yakumo ends up being a giant snake. He's a lil guy.

So we know from Rusted Nation that Kuya set a whole ship on fire just bc someone saw him in his lil guy form.

But what if after all these years and all his lil pranks he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. And Poof! He's a lil fox again. Only temporary tho.

It seems like in nu cani lore Yokai can't just go back and forth between their animal and human forms (I could be wrong but idt they can)

But what if something goes wrong and he's stuck as a fox, Garu is a lil wolf pup, and Yakumo is a lil snake.

At first I was like, this has nothing to do with Kuya. But then I was like "no. It has everything to do with him. It's his fault. Deal with the consequences"

He's going around angrily yipping

Kuya:

But angrily. He's like hopping up and down like in a cartoon.

Quincy is talking to him normally probably about something serious. Rei yips back like how he coos at Father.

Garu got zoomies out the ASS.

Kuya having zoomies and he can't control it

Garu is running around like crazy. So fast. Can't even see his legs. Just a lil guy who wants belly rubs.

Yakumo is finding a warm spot and just laying there.

Quincy holding Kuya by the scruff while he's holding Garu like a baby. He's a tired mother.

Garu and Topper playing. He just a lil wolf pup.

Kuya hasn't stopped yipping. He's yelling to be changed back. Quincy is going to muzzle him if he keeps this up

Eiden thinks Kuya looks so cute. Kuya is trying to bite his face off. Eiden just wants to hold him and carry him everywhere.

Yakumo is wrapping himself around anyone who will hold him. He wants warmth. Maybe squeezes a little too hard

[0vergrowngraveyard]

It was another quiet and still night in Green Hill.

Sonic was sitting on his bed in Tails’ lab, leaned up against the wall of his room. He didn’t use his bed very often, he always preferred the couch since it was easy to just plop down on and pass out, but he’d been using it a lot recently.

He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wanted to use the usually forgotten room. It's not like what piece of furniture he decided to lay on really mattered, he rarely slept either way.

Ever since he returned from the Shatterspace, everything just felt…different.

It wasn’t a good or bad thing, it was just different.

He was different.

And it’s not like he was very discreet about it, his friends definitely noticed. They just never said anything about it.

Well…that wasn’t entirely true. There was one person who occasionally hinted at his concern, but was never direct about it.

He knew the hedgehog too well to do that.

He looked down at the back of one of his gloved hands. For a split second, his white gloves turn grayish with white lines forming a grid, a familiar piece of technology at the center of his hand.

He blinked and it was gone.

Sonic sighed, putting his hand being his head, his other resting on his stomach, as he closed his eyes.

“Sonic?”

His ears perked up at the sound of his name. A small, fond smile forced its way onto the hedgehog’s muzzle as he opened his eyes halfway, his emerald green eyes meeting the baby blues that belonged to his little brother.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, kiddo?”

Tails’ expression went from unreadable to annoyed in record time, an all too familiar glare forming a knot in Sonic’s stomach. A small pout formed on the kit’s lips as he averted his gaze downwards.

“And before you go and call me a hypocrite,” He moved the hand that was situated on his stomach, bringing it to about shoulder height and pointing down. “I am in bed.”

“You know that’s not what you mean by that.“ Tails groaned, rubbing his gloveless paw down his face. “And I was but I…I just…nevermind.”

Eyes slightly wider, Sonic took another look over his brothers’ appearance. He wasn’t wearing any shoes, gloves, or even socks, all four brown paws visible, and his fur was slightly ruffled. He always wore at least socks and gloves in his workshop and if the fuss he made anytime Sonic messed with him was anything to go by, he hated his fur being unnecessarily messy.

The kid was right, he had been in bed.

He noticed Tails starting to turn to leave and he sat up a little straighter as he swallowed past the lump forming in his throat.

He really didn’t want him to go.

“D’you have a nightmare?” Sonic asked him, desperately hoping that his voice sounded normal enough but alas, the kid could read him like an open book. The look he gave him definitely suggested that his voice wavered a bit.

Tails fidgeted with the tip of one of his namesakes and glanced back at the floor. “N-no, I just…it’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

Sonic begged to differ, Tails never came looking for him when he was upset anymore — even during thunderstorms, he’d argue that he was too old to look for comfort in his big brother and that he should be able to handle it himself — so the fact that the kit was standing in his doorway looking upset meant something was wrong.

And Sonic had a pretty good idea as to what it was.

“I can guarantee you it’s not, bud. What’s botherin’ ya?”

Tails was quiet for a few seconds, most likely debating if he should voice his worries. His grip on his tail tightened as he took a sharp breath, mentally preparing for the daunting task that telling your big brother about what’s bothering you apparently is.

“It’s just…” He started, refusing to meet his eyes, “ever since we got back from the cave with the whole prism thing, you’ve been…weird.”

Sonic’s mouth pressed into a line, it seemed he had guessed correctly.

“You’re constantly trying to be around us, but you’re also distant. A-and…it sorta feels like you’re walking on eggshells around me specifically.”

The kit’s ears pressed against the back of his head. “So uh…I guess I just wanted to ask if I did anything to upset you recently?”

Sonic just stared at him. The answer was no, easy. It was pretty much always no. Tails could never upset him. But the words were caught in his throat.

Because that was it, wasn’t it? Tails could never upset him, but someone who looked exactly like him did (well, he wouldn’t say that Nine upset him, either. It was more like he scared him, but even that felt a little harsh.)

He knew it was wrong, projecting one two-tailed fox onto another. He thought he’d learned his lesson, but considering his baby brother was standing at his doorway at the ass crack of dawn, hurt by the way he’d been subconsciously treating him like he had been the one who tried to steal his prism energy, it was pretty obvious that he hadn’t.

But he couldn’t help it that everytime he looked into the kit’s eyes, all he saw was that angry and hurt version of him.

He must’ve been staring for too long because a small “I’m sorry…” snapped him back to reality.

Tails had shrunken in on himself, looking smaller than he usually did. He looked so…young. He looked so guilty even though he hadn’t even done anything. He turned to leave, namesake still in his hands.

Sonic sighed, spreading one arm open. “C’mere bud.”

Tails’ eyes went wide in disbelief…and embarrassment.

“W-what? No-! no. It’s fine, really. I can go, there’s no need for this. Really! I’ll—“

“My arm’s gettin’ tired kiddo.” The hedgehog said, gesturing his head towards the open spot next to him. “Ya got like, 10 seconds.”

Tails hesitantly took a step forward, looking up at his brother to see what he’d do and once nothing happened, he took another step and looked up again.

Then he walked as fast as he could to his brother’s bed, climbing up and curling into his side. Sonic let out a chuckle as he pulled his little brother close to him, Tails responding by snuggling closer.

They sat in silence for a while. Sonic gently rubbed the kit’s back as he blankly stared ahead. The sound of palm leaves gently rustling in the wind was the only thing that filled the air.

“I really am sor—“ Tails started to say, but he was cut off by Sonic ruffling his fur.

“Shush, you.” The hedgehog said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”

He looked down to see the kit looking at him, a confused expression on his face. “But-“

“Nope. I’ve just been a little stupid is all. Nothing that’s your fault.” Sonic expected the quiet that would follow, so he let his guard down, until he heard a small snicker coming from the fox kit.

“That’s a recent development?”

Unfortunately, he forgot how cruel his beloved baby brother could be.

Sonic’s gaze shot towards the kit, his expression turned to one of obviously fake shock as his brother giggled quietly into his side. He squeezed the kit as hard as he could without actually causing damage, Tails wheezing out a laugh in response.

“And here I was having a moment, speaking from the heart and all that, and this is what I get?” He said in a joking tone in between Tails’ giggles.

“You set yourself up for that one, don’t blame me!” The kit said, earning being trapped in a headlock and dragged halfway onto the hedgehog’s lap and noogied mercilessly. “Sonic!”

“Nuh uh, you don’t get any mercy after that!”

They both continued to laugh for a few minutes. Sonic dragged his little brother fully onto his lap, the kit squeaking as the hedgehog wrapped both arms around him in a tight hug. “Sorry for makin’ ya feel like something was wrong, bud.” he said.

Tails snuggled up against his big brother’s chest, feeling nothing but the security, love and warmth he’d grown up with flowing throughout his body as he melted into the hedgehog’s touch, a soft purr making itself known. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Sonic’s arms stayed looped around the kit as he leaned back and closed his eyes, the rumbling from the fox’s chest soothing the knot that had formed in his own, just like it always did.

The comfortable silence returned. Sonic was glad that the conversation turned light hearted. He didn’t think he was ready to even begin to explain whatever the hell happened in the Shatterverse, especially to Tails. Not when he knew the kit would blame himself no matter how many times he was told not to.

As the hedgehog felt his brother slowly drifting into slumber, his soft breathes slowly evening out, he suddenly felt a burning need to say something to him. Something he never usually said out loud because he never needed to. It always went without saying, that’s just how close their bond was.

But after everything that happened…

“Hey, bud?” He whispered, the kit stirring as he gently tapped him.

“I love you, Miles. I don’t want you to ever forget that, ok?”

Wide blue eyes snapped up at him, blinking owlishly. He was definitely confused by the use of his real name, but instead of voicing that confusion, he just smiled and nuzzled into his brother’s chest.

“Love you too, Sonic.”

Somewhere in the Shatterverse, there was another twin-tailed fox kit who sat alone in The Grim. Another Miles who had no big brother to cuddle with when he had nightmares or when he was just worried that he had somehow hurt his feelings.

Deep down, Sonic hoped his words would somehow reach him just as they reached the twin-tailed fox kit asleep on his chest.

He leaned forward, placing a light kiss on the top of his little brother’s head before he slowly followed the kit into slumber.

[wolven91]

Slight of Hand

Taurians are impressive to behold.

The males move like they float, never even so much as ruffling the silks they wore. Their ability to handle any situation, speak on a wide variety of topics, all the while being cool, calm and collected.

It *was* impressive.

The females were impressive by a whole different nature.

As tall as the tallest human, as strong as the strongest human. They were the very embodiment of 'macho'.

There was a ritual the females did that shocked any human who heard of it. Despite the females horns having the sensation of touch, those that wished to prove themselves, would dip their horns into a variety of molten metals.

Some would go gold for the looks, some would go silver or even steel. The hues might be varied, but it was the resistance to the pain that impressed any taurian who saw them.

A taurian with coated horns, was not one to trifle with.

Not all taurians could brag that however. That was only a small fraction of the population that chose to follow through, but all female taurians were impressed and fantasised what it would be like to survive the torture and walk away a true 'alpha'.

Marues was not one that ever believed she could get her horns dipped. Her pain threshold was very low and did not consider dipping even close to what she would want.

An ear piercing, however, was.

"Aw it's going to *hurt*!" She moaned, pacing back and forth.

The human merely held the piercing gun in one hand while she observed the, rather large, stud in between two fingers.

"Only for a moment Maru, now come on. Sit down."

It was weird to see a taurian nervous. They were huge creatures, still small compared to an ursidain, but when the shortest female taurian was as big as Shaquille O'Neil? It was a odd concept to think they'd panic at the idea of an ear piercing.

"But it'll hurt!" Exclaimed Marues, holding her hands over her large ears.

"For a second, come on, sit down so we can look. I won't do it, I want to see how it works and where you want it."

The taurian complied, but made a point of saying 'only to look'.

The human touched various points on the taurian's ear before one section along the bottom was chosen. It was the thinnest section possible, but the stud would look good.

At least Marues had taste.

"Alright, I'm going to count down." Explained the human as she punched a hole through the taurian's ear, clamping the stud into place without hesitation.

The taurian closed her eyes and braced as the human stood up and went to wipe the puncher down, cleaning the needle.

"Like 3, 2, 1, go or or or 3, 2, go?" Asked the taurian, peeking one eye to watch the human clean the gun.

"Mm, I usually countdown from 10. Really get the nerves going." Grinned the human, placing the gun down and retrieving a mirror.

"What?! You're so mean! Don't do that!" Demanded Marues. She'd come to the human because *normally* they were kind! At least Marues knew the human wouldn't tell anyone how much of a weakling Marues was being about this.

"Alright, alright. How about... I fit it when you're not paying attention?"

The taurian leveled a glare at the human, who was holding the hand held mirror out to the larger alien.

"Har har. Can we get on with it? I'm freaking out!"

"Just check that I've got the spot right in the mirror."

The taurian looked at the mirror, then back to the human.

"Yeah, that's right. Let's do it!"

"Cool. Tadaa. Done."

The taurian frowned, before looking down.

Looking back up.

Looking down and turning her head to see her ear more clearly.

She even gingerly touched it, wincing a fraction.

Marues looked up, blinking, her muzzle-like mouth working but no words coming out. The human merely grinned and gave a wink before walking to the kitchen to get a drink.

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[saphstories]

one bed trope sonamy

As You Wish

The heavens would prove unkind tonight, she regretfully mused, wincing at the booming thunder that shook the skies and the carriage. “Not a fan of storms, Lady Amelia?”

Amelia Rose sighed and smiled awkwardly at her companion, sitting across the carriage from her. His emerald eyes were inquisitive, searching hers, while his posture was relaxed, chin in his hand, appearing almost bored. “Not when they impede the procession home, Lord Silas.” She replied, drawing her burgundy cloak tighter around her shoulders.

Silas snorted. “Aye, especially when I can run faster than the carriage.”

Amelia’s ears perked up. “Is that so?” She asked.

Silas nodded, a bit of a smug smile on his peach muzzle. “Aye, milady. I’ve obtained quite the moniker for my speed. My friends call me ‘Sonic’, and I overhear many of the townsfolk refer to me as ‘The Blue Blur’.”

“Sonic,” Amelia tested the epithet on her tongue, and smiled at him. “I must say, it suits you.”

Silas grinned at her, and warmth spread from Amelia’s stammering heart to her cheeks. “If milady wishes, you may address me so.” He encouraged.

Amelia smiled, and the carriage jolted and skidded to a stop. Amelia squealed and grabbed the upholstery to hold herself steady, alarmed at the slew of voices shouting amid the thunder and downpour outside. Sonic’s hand reached for her but hesitated from touching her. “Alright, Amelia?”

“Aye.” Amelia bobbed her head quickly. “What do you think’s happened?”

Sonic’s brow furrowed, a deep frown pointed towards the carriage door, his lithe body coiling tight as a snake. “Hopefully just a bumpy road, milady.” He lightly rested his hand on the sword at his hip, his thumb gingerly stroking the top of the golden circular cross guard. He shifted on the seat, angling himself towards the carriage door and creating a shield between it and Amelia, his hand now curled tight on the blade hilt. The carriage door creaked open. Sonic unsheathed his sword, the silvery blade somehow gleaming in the low light. “Keep behind me, Amelia. I will not let them harm you.” He whispered.

“I am not exactly helpless, Sonic!” Amelia hissed back, her cheeks flushing scarlet indignantly.

“Don’t I know it.” Sonic muttered to himself. Amelia frowned. The carriage door burst open.

“Sonic!” An echidna raised his mittens in surrender, his scarlet fur and bronze armor splattered with mud and soaked with rainwater.

“Chaos, Knuckles!” Sonic exclaimed, shaking his head and sheathing his sword. “You’re lucky I didn’t cleave you in two!”

Knuckles snorted. “I would like to see you try!”

Sonic rolled his eyes. “Perhaps now would not be the time, Knucklehead. What’s happened?”

“The storm has caused a flood in the valley; the carriage will not make it the normal routes, at least not tonight.” Knuckles grimly reported. “We spotted a tavern just a few minutes ride whence we came; it would be safer course if we took shelter for the night and resumed our travels at first light.”

Sonic considered those words and nodded. “Very well then, Knuckles.” The echidna dipped his head to Amelia and shut the carriage door, shouting at the others, and Sonic settled back into his seat as the carriage began moving again.

“Do you know the tavern Knuckles spoke of?” Amelia asked curiously.

Sonic shook his head. “It has been some time since I traveled this direction, milady. I just hope there are enough rooms for our company.”

#

“Well, if hopes were rings,” Sonic chuckled nervously, scratching a hand through his damp blue quills. Amelia’s cheeks blazed as rosy as her long quills, shifting nervously as she eyed the compact room outfitted with creaky wooden floors, a tiny wooden wardrobe, and one moderate singular bed in the center, outfitted with one singular ratty quilt. Sonic cleared his throat and gestured to the door that led to the washroom. “Ladies first.”

Grateful and flustered, Amelia fled, her decorum preventing her from slamming the door outright in her embarrassment. She covered her face with her hands and whined, practically vibrating with her nerves. This was not how it was meant to happen! She and Sonic may be betrothed and set to marry in a day’s time, certainly, but they weren’t meant to be in such close quarters yet! They should have arrived in Sonic’s villa by now, Amelia should have been formally introduced to his family as his chosen bride, and the preparations for their union were due to begin in the morning! But now, because of poor luck and a terrible monsoon, all that time meant to prepare her for-for intimacy with Sonic was forfeit!

Amelia took a deep breath. “Pull yourself together, Rose.” She muttered to herself. “’Tis only a small delay, and you are to be united with him at sunset tomorrow, what is one night early?” She nodded to herself and discarded her sopping cloak, reaching for a towel…only to find them missing. Lovely. She sighed and opened the door, poking her head out. “Sonic, are there-oh!” Amelia slapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks now a permanent shade of red…but her traitorous eyes refused to look away.

Sonic faced away from her, his soaked shirt wringing out in his hands, ruffled blue fur glistening with mist in the candlelight. Strong but lithe blue shoulders gave way to thick blue spines glinting and sharp down a nimble back to narrow hips and a pert blue tail, still covered by sopping wet trousers.

Amelia shook herself and slammed the door, flushed and embarrassed and ashamed. What was she to ogle a man like a hound would a scrap of meat? Her mother would have her hide for such! Amelia sighed and shimmied out of her dress, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill. At least her chemise was mostly dry; it would have to do for tonight. She hung her dress and cloak over the tub, then faced the door nervously, biting her lip. She huffed, lifted her chin, and marched out.

Sonic froze when he saw her, his emerald eyes wonderstruck, raking over her before he cleared his throat and refocused on her face with a tinge of pink on his peach muzzle. Amelia wasn’t much better, her gaze locked on the white shirt Sonic bore, the neckline a deep v that showcased the peach fur of his chest and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the length barely long enough to cover his thighs. “Y-You take the bed, Amelia.” He gestured. “I’ll take the floor.”

“What? No, Sonic, that is unnecessary.” Amelia protested, stepping forward.

“Amelia-,”

“Sonic, we are to be married in one day.” Amelia crossed her arms. “As unpleasant as these circumstances are, it is what we are contended with. And since you are my husband to be, and we will be sharing a bed permanently by tomorrow, I see no harm in doing so tonight when there is no other reasonable option.”

Sonic’s ears tipped back, and he nodded. “As...as you wish.”

Amelia pulled back the ratty quilt and slid into the bed, wincing at the lumpiness. Sonic dithered at the opposite edge of the bed before quickly climbing in, putting his back to Amelia. She tried to swallow the lump that left in her throat and turned away also. “Goodnight, Sonic.”

“…Goodnight, Amelia.”

Amelia laid there, watching the shadows dance on the wall. “…Sonic?”

“Aye?”

“Thank you…for preparing to defend me in the carriage.”

“…I will always defend you, Amelia. I need no thanks for it.”

Amelia bit her lip and sighed.

“Amelia?”

“Aye?”

“…I…regret that you think the marriage arrangement is unpleasant. If you so wish, we could…negate the contract and I shall escort you home at first light.”

Amelia nearly shot up out of the bed. “What?” Sonic refused to turn over and look at her, but Amelia was no mere damsel, and so grabbed his shoulder and forced him to meet her eyes. “Sonic, why would you assume I think such nonsense? If I thought it unpleasant, I wouldn’t have agreed!” She exclaimed.

Sonic furrowed his brow. “But, just a moment ago, you said-,”

Amelia flopped onto her pillow and groaned. “I meant the unpleasant circumstances of the storm delaying us here and forcing us to share close quarters before either of us were ready, silly man.”

Sonic’s eyes brightened, and a half-smile formed on his peach muzzle. “Oh. I see.”

Amelia snorted and smiled at him. “Do you not know better than to assume what a lady thinks, milord?”

Sonic laughed. Stars appeared in Amelia’s eyes. “I admit, my experience with the female mind is woefully lacking.” Amelia giggled, and the smile that flourished on Sonic’s muzzle fluttered her heart. “You truly are the most beautiful in all Mobius, Amelia.” Sonic whispered reverently, gingerly smoothing an errant pink quill out of her eyes.  

Amelia’s cheeks once again matched her name. “Is-Is that why you chose me?” She mumbled. “For my beauty?”

Sonic’s smile turned sad. “I chose you for your heart, Amelia. Your compassion, your grace, your courage, and your strength. After all, it was those things that saved a starving young boy with two apples fifteen years ago.”

“Apples? Oh!” Amelia gasped.

She remembered that day all too clearly. It had been raining then, too, but little six-year-old Amelia hadn’t been bothered, dancing in the downpour with a smile and muddying her fine dress. It was on one of her twirls that she’d spotted him, a tiny blue hoglet in rags, shivering and pale, hiding behind a post…but watching her all the same with inquisitive emerald eyes. Her heart had clenched for him, especially when he whimpered and clutched his belly, and she immediately snatched the first things she found: two bright red apples off a cart just a pace away. Amelia had thrown them to the hoglet and beamed at him when he picked them up despite their landing in the mud; went to throw him more…but had been caught and humiliated by her mother’s scolding. When she turned back to look back and beg her mother to take him home with them...the boy had vanished. Amelia had never seen him again.

Until tonight. “I would have starved if not for you, Amelia.” Sonic whispered, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. “You inspired me to become the man I am today: the man that protects those that cannot protect themselves, a man that shows compassion to those burdened, lost, and alone, a man that has strived to be worthy of your heart…because since that day, you have had mine.”

“Oh, Sonic,” Amelia threw her arms around Sonic’s neck and buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking with sobs even though her heart sang with joy. His arms encircled her, his fingers stroking her quills, his lips whispering words of love in her ear. “We-We need to go to sleep now.” She declared, beaming. “We need to sleep so tomorrow will come and we can be married as soon as possible.” Sonic tipped his head back and laughed. Amelia giggled and pushed him down to snuggle into his chest, her arms tight around him. He pressed a kiss to Amelia’s forehead, closing his eyes with a loving smile. “As you wish.”

[wired-for-weird]

if you're still taking writing prompts: how about a monster/monster with the POV from a more experienced/stronger/larger monster that has just recently transformed the other monster (previously a human?) by some means into their new, monstrous form, and is watching them experience for the first time emotions and sensations they know so well; the joy of their new powerful body, the feelings of freedom and strength, the erotic abandon to the the bestial, etc.

Listen to me. When you stand, it's gonna take you a couple of tries, all right? You're gonna be stiff and sore, your balance will be all off--but your body knows how it wants to move, okay? So relax. Take it slow.

I'm going to cut you free now.

All right, hindlegs first, then. Up you come. Watch the tail-- no, no, don't worry about it. Those walls have taken worse beatings. Just relax. Relax. Feel your body, the weight of it. The ground under your head. Your chest. Your back legs are splayed-- dig those claws in a little deeper if you need to. Forepaws to the earth, brace with your tail, and up we go. Don't fret, love, I've got you.

I'm sorry about the ropes. The growing pains were bad. You were doing a whole lot of thrashing for a couple of days there. You could have snapped a leg. Trust me, a couple of sores and some chafing are much easier for you to deal with. If there was another way--

What? You thought-- to protect me? From you?

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just-- oh, darling, I know you're new, I know you're strong and eager and hungry, but five minutes alone with you and I could be picking my teeth with your bones. Speaking of, I think it's time to take that muzzle off you now.

Feels better, yeah? Go on, give that jaw a good stretch. Curl your tongue and feel those new teeth of yours, curved and hard and sharp... mh, those came through beautifully, didn't they? Yeah, the itching is normal-- your gums will be kind of tender, but that'll fade after a few weeks. We'll catch you someone to chew on.

For now, though, let's get you outside. Come on, take a step-- yes, you can, there, like that. Another, come on, and another, trust your body, it wants to move, that's it, wants to run, and run, and run--

Oh, you are gorgeous.

I mean it! What's with the look? You think I say that to everyone I've fucked into their new shape? No, love, you're special. You really are. Every body I work on is eager for what I give it, even if the mind inside isn't so much, but yours, darling, your flesh fucking leapt under my touch. You swallowed every drop of strength and blood and cum I could pour into you. You were a pleasure to shape.

Come on, then. You're only new once. These first hunts, first kills, they'll always be the sweetest. I want to be there for them with you. I want to watch your appetite unfurl.

I promise you, it will be everything you never knew you wanted.

[lady-ace]

Scp x Captain Marvel

(Why? Because i am going feral for this idea. I am crawling up the walls. Foaming at the mouth. If i could write fics, THIS would be the one, but since i can't, i'll just write this long idea)

Billy (in cap form) is sent into a portal when fighting an magical villain who was attacking Fawcett. The portal leads him to another dimension, where he lands on a populated area. Phones are drawn, videos are taken.

Billy gets nervous. Where was he? Why are people recording him? This for sure isn't Fawcett or anywhere near, judging by their amazed and scared faces.

Billy flies down to the crowd to try and reassure them that everything's fine, but as he lands, the crowd scatters away. Billy didn't think it would be nice to follow them, so he left it at that and flew off, exploring this small city he ended up in.

After a good while of just flying around, he decides enough's enough and goes down to a place he deemed "safe" and de-transforms back to his human form.

What Billy didn't see was a camera on the other side of the road, that saw what looked like an flying man land on an alley, and proceeding to be struck by lighting after yelling 'SHAZAM!' (that surged out of nowhere in broad daylight and in a clear sky), after which a small child comes out of said alley, no sign if the man was ever present.

The SCP foudation executives catch wind of this "Flying man" and quickly get up to capture him, seeing the videos circulating around Social media (and deleting them, not to cause more panic) to locate where exactly it is.

They narrow it down to a small city and dispatch a MTF squad to find the child, now nicknamed SCP-6514-1, contain it, and bring it back to the foundation for further inspection.

As nightfall came, Billy was searching a place where he could sleep safely. This new world didn't seem to have heroes (or, as far as he'd seen) but crime might still be big.

When he left yet another building he thought was safe (an abandoned parking lot didn't seem that welcoming if it rained), he heard footsteps. Multiple footsteps, loud against the pavement.

Billy heart started beating faster, but before he could even think of looking back, an dart shot out from behind him, hitting his arm. Billy instantly felt different- sleepy, drowzy, just, not good, as various masked and armed people came out of his surroundings and picked him up, leading to some sort of car or van (Billy couldn't really tell, he was too busy trying to keep awake.)

When he woke up, he was muzzled. It was not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough he couldn't let a single word out.

He scratched at it to try to get it off to no avail, and just as he was about to give up, the door to the room he was trapped in opened, with the same men who captured him escorting him back to another room- this one being fully white, and being separated by some kind of reinforced glass. He was brought to to one side of the room, and another person awaited on the other side. A nametag on his lab coat reads “Dr. Peter S.”

Dr. Peter: “Hello, SCP-6514-1.”

The man said, getting a note book and a pencil and giving it to Billy,

Dr. Peter: “We would like if you'd answer some of our questions. We assure you, you won't be harmed in any way unless you attack us first and we see the need of self-defense.”

Billy: “...”

Dr. Peter: “I'll take that as an 'yes'. Now, what are your powers?”

Billy, writing down in his note book: “Why would i tell you? You just kidnapped me!”

Dr. Peter: “Well, you see, you are an anomaly. You came out of nowhere, causing mass panic, demonstrating supernatural powers above any normal human's. Could you see how that's a cause for concern, 6514?”

Billy, a bit annoyed at the nickname: “I can see how that would be weird, but not weird enough to kidnap me over! And what's with the numbers?”

Dr. Peter: “The numbers are simply for identitication's sake. And for any intends and purposes, you could pose a threat to humanity, so i find it's enough to capture you over.”

Billy: “Threat to humanity? But i'm just a normal boy!”

Dr. Peter: “How come?”

Billy: “i'm the Whiz kid! I work for the radio!”

Dr. Peter, writing this all down: “Uh huh. I see how you can be an 'normal child', but what about 6514-2, your flying-thunder summoning counterpart?”

Billy, frozen at the mention of marvel: “..I don't know what you're talking about.”

Dr. Peter: “6514, we saw it. It's why we captured you. There's no need to try and say you don't know.”

Billy, with a defeated look: “That's Captain Marvel. A superhero.”

Dr. Peter, with an eyebrow raised, obviously doubting it, yet still writing it down: “Uh huh..? And what exactly does he do?”

Billy: “i save people. I defeat villains. It's what heroes do, isn't it?”

Dr. Peter: “Yeah, i'd think so. But tell me, what is a child like you doing as an superhero? Shouldn't you be at school?”

Billy, writing something and scribbling over it trying to find the right words: “I can't go to school.”

Dr. Peter: “Okay. Well, where did you live, then?”

Billy: “I lived in Fawcett city. You know, the magic one?”

Dr. Peter, writing down stuff: “i never heard of it, and i'm pretty sure there aren't magic cities.”

Billy, a bit upset: “Look, i was just fighting a villain and a portal i accidentaly fell into put me here! I just wanna go home!”

Dr. Peter: “And home is Fawcett?”

Billy: “No, no! Away from here, anywhere but here! I don't want to be here, everyone should be so worried! And i'll not be there for the people i swore to protect!”

Dr. Peter, with a small worried look, collects all his stuff and gets up, looking at the MTF guards on stand by: “I think we've done enough today. Bring 6514-1 back, he's too emotionally charged right now. Besides, we've already got a lot of information.”

As he heads out to leave, Billy knocks on the glass and puts up the notebook.

Billy: “Could i keep the notebook?”

Dr. Peter, thinking it over, since it is a small decision but if anything goes haywire he would be to blame: “hmm.. okay.”

/////

Billy curls up in the first cell he was brought back to, thinking about ways to escape and if the justice league will be able to find him.

“Stupid portal.. making me go to some weird place i don't know..”

Billy thinks, as he draws in the small note book and glares at the camera and it's blinking red dot.

Suddenly, the lights go out in his room. Was it night?

Oh well.

He hopes tomorrow the league will already be here. He misses Mary and Freddy.