#terrible drought
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oh noooo . what a crisis . it's been sooooo long since i showed you guys my ass .
#terrible drought#anyways i'm finally not sick anymore thank gooooodddddd#me#mine#🐄#hypothesis i taste like strawberry calpico right now
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Dominic Fike, you are so loved.
#dominic fike#come home the kids miss you#i miss him terribly#who up missing dom#some of my favs to get me through the drought#an actual angel#💖
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don’t get me wrong i’m excited about dreadwolf, but... yeah.
#dragon age#mass effect#swtor#where would anthem be for this? like what's deader then dead since they just went and threw out the whole franchise#each new bw related news is like new show for DA new comic for DA new game for DA#i know it's seprate teams but seeing them pulling the ME team to help finish DAD and having a content drought on swtor feels bad man#and i mean story content drought. i know they added a new stronghold and a terrible credit sink for a basic utility#just been feeling really sporadic and small story updates since onslaught
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Why am I always like 10 years late to fandoms.
they don't write shows like they used to anymore man.
#supernatural#im in a content drought because of my own terrible decisions#its a running problem#house md#in the loop#the thick of it#life on mars bbc#trevilieu#its my fault#im stupid
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FYI I am going to boost a multitude of recently posted writing works tomorrow morning/afternoon under my self-reblog tag, in case anyone needs to/wants to blacklist that for whatever reason.
#it's kinda really neat how many works i've put out this season#both art AND writing#after a really long drought for creative works#so it's something i'm proud of and happy to reblog to share again from time to time#but also i don't wanna clutter terribly too much... thus my warning in case self reblogs bother people#nova rambles
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where's sapnap and his goodmorning snapchats when you need them☹️☹️☹️☹️
#pls i downloaded snapchat for you😭😭 pls pls come back#the need is constant this drought is terrible
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me remembering billlie last cb was after girls and they're having a new cb before aespa
#ANYWAY...#i'll count my blessings thank you billlie for saving me from this terrible kpop drought#.txt
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"Joe!! Get your lazy ass over here!!" My crackhead of a Vice President shouted.
I put my short white hair in a messy bun as I stared at my reflection's blue orbs giving me a proper gander before throwing on a hoodie and heading downstairs. Vice President Kamala Harris was already at the table, taking a swing of her vape in between downing more vodka like the socialist commie she was.
"Pack your shit and go! I needed money for the presidential campain so I sold you!"
"You can't do that, you can't just sell me to some young hot tail!!" I cried out with tears streaming down my pretty, sharp cheekbones.
"I never even wanted you to be my President! Now go to your room and pack!!"
"Why are you doing this!!"
"Because I love being the President and hate you!!!"
Before I could even stumble and trip on my way up the stairs, there came a knock to the White House's door. The handle was pulled without waiting for an answer, and suddenly I was very glad I wasn't stuck in an unlocked stall.
"'Ello luv! We're your new owners!" Said Harry One Direction, making himself right at home like the Colonizer he was.
"B-but I'm Irish!" I croaked, dumbfounded.
"Nonsense! We both know they've revoked your ancestry card thanks to your war crimes! Now get your bags and let's go, our private jet is waiting." Harry winked at me smiling devilishly and amidst all this chaos all I could think was...
Would Obama be jealous?
"Kamala Harris raised 50+ million dollars after Biden dropped out!" you fools.... that's the money she got from selling Biden to One Direction :(
#Mine#This is my FIRST creative writing since late February after a terrible artistic drought. You are all so welcome.#I was giggling and laughing and coughing again so hard the more wild fucking ideas I got it's insane#Username hellsfryingpan i owe you my life and firstborn son
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it is november, and yesterday it felt like it was supposed to be snowing. in boston, november used a winter month, not a fall month. it is supposed to be chilly; rarely capping over 45F. it is a sweater-and-jacket month. it is a "maybe a scarf too" month. in my childhood, november meant blizzards and sleet.
it did not snow. tomorrow the weather predicts a high of 76.
i have spent so many years of my life studying the longterm possibilities of climate change - the culmination of capitalism wreaking havoc on the bodies of people, animals, plants - but every so often i am still shocked by something small and personal.
in a hundred years, when someone goes outside in boston - will they know the feeling of "snow in the air"?
i know it's a learned feeling, a sensation that maybe only longterm experience can teach. a few years ago, i was walking with my friend who had just moved up from the south. i said it smells like snow and she gave me this look like - what the fuck. i said it feels like snow too, which didn't help. she looked up to the bright blue sky and then back at me and then back at the sky. 12 hours later, we had 3 inches. you can just tell if it's going to snow.
except i can't tell, anymore. i stand outside in a tee shirt and watch my dog dance around a lake. we're in a drought and the skin of the water has peeled back twenty meters. the lake is tamed, quiet, puddlelike and sour. my pokemon go app warns there's a weather condition in my area.
my dog gets too hot from running and sits in the water and i want to laugh about his long frame and how awkwardly he sits - and i can't. some simian part of my brain is scratching the walls. it was supposed to snow. it was supposed to snow, but now it's warm instead.
during the last full solar eclipse, the dogs and the birds and the crickets went crazy under utter darkness. we laughed at them then, promising it will all be okay in a moment. but some part of me is still locked in that long night: some animal sensation.
something is wrong, my body says. i can't afford eggs or rent. i go outside to watch a sunset and listen to birdsong. i don't bring a jacket. allergies are killing me this season, allergies i didn't have as a kid. everyone comments that halloween has started to feel strange, offkilter. that it's hard having "holiday cheer." my body thinks it's april, and then it thinks we're in september, and then june.
something is terribly wrong, she whispers. go outside. it is supposed to be snowing.
#spilled ink#warm up#.....#i had 2 people close to me die within a month#sorry for not being around#on the other hand#my friend code on pokemon go is#4747 8104 8180
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i thought maybe my new meds (another attempt at managing chronic pain) were having a side effect of helping with the whole Seasonal Depression thing, as has happened once before, but turns out October was just winding up its swing so it could take a big hit all at once, and just needed an opportunity to strike
#tag#another fusion dance in my area finally got posted and i can't go on that day#and if they stick with sundays at 5 pm potentially can never go#and this opened the pit of despair#wherein everything is terrible and its because life hates me and my life sucks and so does everyone around me#and when my thoughts reached that level of uselessness#i realized this May Not Just Be About Missing Out On Dancing#though tbf i will HAVE to talk to my dnd group about changing days if the fusion event repeats on sundays#like we have more than one person who has mused about changing to saturdays#but even just. taking one week off per month ongoing#when they did this event's trial run last month it was like rain in a drought#i missed it so bad
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holy shit we needed this rain so bad
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No paywall version here.
"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...
In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.
Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.
But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.
I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.
In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.
For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.
And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.
Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.
[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]
And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.
The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.
I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.
To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.
The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.
Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.
I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."
-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.
#WE CAN DO THIS#I SO TRULY BELIEVE THAT WE CAN DO THIS#WE CAN SAVE OURSELVES AND THE WORLD ALONG WITH US#climate crisis#united states#climate change#conservation#hope posting#sustainability#climate news#climate action#climate emergency#fossil fuels#global warming#environmentalism#climate hope#solarpunk#climate optimism#climate policy#earth#science#climate science#meteorology#extreme weather#renewable energy#solar power#wind power#renewables#carbon emissions#climate justice
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Yk i sometimes joked about northern Europeans being kind of depressed and dark bc they have no sun but I won't anymore. I'm sorry, I understand only know u love her(the sun) when u let her go(gotta make that fucking factory more productive!1!!)
#the weather is terrible since the end of winter basically we never had spring this year#it's cold rainy and cloudy and it is starting to really affect my mental health tbh#climate change is shit#i love spring and autumn bc they are moderate in italy and usually had nice days#now it's either too cold or too hot and i already see hell and drought coming this summer it's not just physical health#but also mental that this weather will destroy especially in elders and kids#and u can't even get used to the new normal bc it changes every damn week
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ITS RAINING!!!!!
#screaming crying sobbing thank u rain thank u rain#drought so terrible thank u rain#rain#texas#jay jabbers
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The Old Way
Listen... I don't even know what I'm on with this. Just... don't judge me. Omfg what is wrong with me.
AO3 Link -- TW: omegaverse wildness, biting, blood, etc.
Your people are starving, and your clan's Alpha has asked you, their only remaining Omega, to give yourself up as a sacrifice to save them. So, you agree, and you are to be mated to one of the Alphas of Clan 141, praying that it is to any of them except Alpha Price. He is known to have a knot that is impossible to take, but when you finally meet him, you're not sure of what's possible anymore. Will you risk it all to be with him, even if his knot might kill you? One way to find out…
The Old Way
You couldn’t see the stars. The shroud that hung over your head was made from fine, black silk, and through its thin organza, you could barely make out the shape of the Watcher in front of you, much less the glittering galactic expanse overhead. You were wrapped like a gift, and if you wanted to save the lives of everyone you’d ever loved, you would remain cloaked in your darkness, hidden, waiting for your big moment. More than anything, you wanted to pull your veil away from your eyes just to see the familiar constellations again, to comfort yourself with their shapes, to make one last independent choice before all of your volition was stolen from you forever.
That wasn’t the right word. You couldn’t steal something that was given freely. You were not bound, and you were certainly not forced to wear the shadowed veil against your will. You had selected this path for yourself, and now you were living through the consequences of that decision.
As the only Omega in your clan – the first one born in seventy years – you were raised on the knowledge that you may one day be asked to give up your life for your clan. After the war, life was hard, and now that your people were stuck in a seemingly endless drought, it had become even more desperate. Your clan leader, Alpha Roan, had come to you six weeks ago with a terrible look in his eyes, a palpable guilt, still wearing his mourning collar for his long-lost mate, Omega Kiran, and he had asked you if you would be willing to undergo The Exchange.
His own wife had come to your clan through The Exchange, and although they had chosen to perform a private ceremony, you knew that it had been a challenge for her. Before she died, she had taught you much about your role, but you were still a youngling, and some things were just not for you to hear at such an age.
You thought about the years that had passed after the loss of your clan’s Omega. Alpha Roan had insisted on your education, and your training, but the idea that you would be asked to leave your clan through The Exchange was always a distant threat. But, now, here it was. You had been called by your Alpha to sacrifice yourself for their benefit; not in a marriage of love, but in a clan trade.
You had been asked by your Alpha to think about your choice. After he left you to ponder your choice, you sat down in your chambers surrounded by your Watchers, the women who had raised you, who had taught you to read, to write, to fight, and to charm. They looked at you with the same guilty, knowing eyes, and they asked you if you were prepared to make the sacrifice.
“You do know what awaits you at the end of The Exchange, don’t you, Omega?” Watcher Trinity had asked you quietly, holding your hands in her shaking fingers, the wrinkled skin of her knuckles folding and stretching over her thin bones.
You nodded, “Yes, Watcher. I am to be given to a new Alpha.”
She had looked at you then, her eyes sharp and calculating, trying to figure out how she would ask her next question.
“Do you know the way in which you will be given, Omega?”
Her tone chilled your heart, sinking through your body like ice across a pond, freezing you in place. You waited. There was more that she needed to say, and you allowed her to explain.
And now that you knew the truth, you felt fully prepared to accept the terms of the agreement. You would deliver your people from their strife, and any pain, any shame, and any horror that you experienced from this point onward would be in service to your clan. You hoped that would be enough solace to sustain you. There was no shame in your sacrifice, you knew that. But, in your soul, you knew that knowing a thing and experiencing a thing were two vastly disparate sides of the same coin.
You informed your clan Alpha, holding your chin high,
“I accept the terms of The Exchange, Alpha Roan.”
“Your people are forever in your debt, Omega. Watchers,” he addressed your caregivers, “Please make preparations in the old way of our clan.”
“The old way, Alpha Roan?” Watcher Trinity had asked, her voice giving away her apprehension.
“Yes, Watcher. We will follow the law, no matter how… upsetting it may be. Clan 141 is too powerful for us to take any undue risks. If they do not accept her, we may not survive their engagement.”
Even in your sheltered little academy, you had heard of Clan 141. Their clan was small, but it was deeply feared. If any other clan dared step out of line, the 141 were there to rain hellfire and destruction down on them until there was nothing left. They were not cruel, but they abided no violent acts in their territory, and any whisper of rekindling the war efforts or of superseding the peace treaty was dealt with swiftly and decisively.
Before the war, kings and presidents and generals had pulled the strings. Now that the world lay in ruins, the 141 was the only thing between your small clan and total destruction from larger, more aggressive packs. The 141 was the only reason your people still had other clans to trade with; they had made sure smaller communities had access to fair market costs for food and services, and no one dared to shun your merchants now that you were under their protective wing.
Your Watchers had done their best to ease you into your preparations. Clan 141 would be at the neutral ground in six weeks, and your team had tried to make every moment of that window meaningful in your training. They had started slowly, teaching you to stretch your untouched hole with your fingers, showing you diagrams and depictions of your own anatomy, warning you of the physical trial of taking an Alpha’s knot.
It was mortifying when you endured your first test. Watcher Gillar and Watcher Bhin had made you sit in front of a mirror and show them your progress. You were told to clench and release the muscles of your hole on command, fluttering it to prove its strength. Then, they had produced a carved, glass phallus, expecting you to practice on a smaller model before moving you up to a more advanced size.
You took it from their hands, looking at its curved, rigid shape with wide-eyed curiosity, trying to swallow your grief at being seen doing the unthinkable by people you considered to be your closest friends and caregivers. It almost made you regret your decision. But, your people needed you, so you rested the smooth tip of the phallus at the entrance of your hole and began to shove it inside of yourself.
This new feeling was overwriting your mind, so alien and yet so very comforting to you, confounding in its sensations yet overwhelming in its unique, bright pleasure.
It was a struggle, but you managed to slip it into your body almost down to the large, bulbous knot on the end. The sharp pain of being entered for the first time was not as terrible as you had feared, but when you pulled the phallic rod back out of you, it was cloudy with your slick and your blood.
“Try the knot, Omega. Your Alpha will be twice as large as this, at least. You do not want your first experience to be at the ceremony. I know that you will want to appear strong in front of the other clans.” Watcher Bhin encouraged you, holding you to her shoulder as she sat behind you, trying her best to comfort you through such a harrowing ordeal.
You put their practice cock back inside of you, slipping down further than you had, feeling the wide anatomy pressing against your entrance, but still unable to take the full knot inside. You pushed and pulled with your muscles, just like your Watchers had taught you, but it wouldn’t budge. You were panting, sweating, and teetering on the edge of an embarrassing orgasm in front of your Watchers, and you gasped out, exasperated,
“I can’t. I don’t think I can do this, Watcher.”
“Lay back, Omega. I will help you,” Watcher Gillar said softly, replacing your hand with hers at the base of the phallus.
You lay down on your back against your soft pillows, trying to avoid your Watchers’ pitying eyes. Then, you felt a cool gel being applied around the sore ring of your hole; something to ease the way since there was no true Alpha present to coax your slick from your glands. Watcher Bhin had held your hand in hers, gripping you tightly, letting you squeeze her through the pain, wiping away your tears as the glass bulb of the pretend knot began to split you, stretching your body before finally popping into place.
You Watchers had comforted you for a few minutes, but then you were told to begin your meditations.
With much difficulty, you sat up, feeling the heavy knot nestled against your walls. Then, Watcher Bhin handed you a firm pillow, and you understood that you must straddle it, and that it would push the knot against you. You were to train your body and your mind to accept it so that you would have the stamina to withstand the ceremony.
“Do not be afraid to listen to your body, Omega. We will return to help you remove it and recover. I will light some incense for you. Concentrate on your strength.”
You nodded, uncrossing your legs and settling yourself over the firm pillow, feeling the deep, sacral grind of the phallus as you set your weight against it. When you were left alone, you began your breathing techniques, but all the while, a flush was rushing across your skin, the shadow of a rising desire to come, and yet subtly different. Something whispered in your mind, and you wondered if you could call your slick down yourself, without an Alpha’s help.
So, you tried, rocking back and forth across the pillow, churning the knot within your core, feeling the rounded tip rubbing against your deepest parts. You removed your robes, letting the flush keep you warm, watching yourself in the tall mirror, meeting your own eyes.
It took only minutes before a true orgasm was upon you, but you tried to hold it at bay, searching through the sparkling, cracking fog of pleasure for the part of you that made you special. No Beta would survive a knotting; they never did, and it was a crime to even try. But, you were meant for it, and you knew that your Watchers’ training would not let you down. You breathed through the bliss, reaching out with your mind towards your slick, imagining it, visualizing your success, manifesting it deep within you.
When the Watchers found you later that night, they woke you with cool rags and worried faces,
“What happened, Omega? How did you…” Watcher Gillar looked down at your bare legs to where the pillow sat under you, seeing a torrent of slick and milky come covering your skin and the silk of the bolster, confused by how you could produce it without an Alpha’s beckoning call. It was just not done, not even considered to be a possibility.
After that night, there was much chatter amongst the Watchers. They consulted old tomes, dusting off the pages in the library of your little academy where you trained far away from the rest of your village, kept up here in your tower like a Delphic oracle, buried like a treasure.
The training became more intense, and each practice phallus that your Watchers produced became harder and heavier, each bearing knots that were unfathomably large. You used your newfound power to face each of your challenges, less ashamed now to perform in front of your team, but knowing that the ceremony would be something else entirely.
You had asked about it one night as your Watchers were helping you bathe after a particularly difficult practice session,
“Will there truly be none absent from the ceremony, Watcher Trinity?”
“Only the cubs and their mothers are forbidden from attending. Otherwise, all clan members are obligated to witness The Exchange. We will even invite Clan Farlight and Clan Seres to the feast as a token of goodwill. You know this, Omega,” her tone was a little impatient, wondering why you were asking such a basic question, “Your Alpha has asked for your ceremony to be conducted in the old way, according to the original scrolls.”
“I am worried that I will dishonor you with my abilities. I cannot seem to take even these false knots without tears,” you repeated the old scripture, chanting it rote to your Watcher just as you used to do when you had started your adult training, “Omegas are vessels. They will silently submit. The ceremony will be still, honoring the sacrifice.”
Watcher Trinity knelt down beside your bath and made you look at her. Her eyes softened, and she told you,
“Yes, that is what is written, but it is not that simple. You have already honored us with your sacrifice. We have no grain. We have skinny, milkless goats, and our well is nearly dry. When we feast after your ceremony, the full bellies of your people will mean so much more than any perceived weakness that you are reluctant to show.” She grabbed your hand out of the warm water, holding it in hers, “If you need to cry, we will understand, and we will be comforting you from the crowd. Trust me, Omega.”
You tried to put it all out of your mind as you marched down the path, following behind your Watchers as they surrounded you, adorned in their own ceremonial garb. They had worn their armor and their long, red robes, carrying huge, black scythes like walking sticks, as was the custom of your clan. Your Alpha was walking in the front of your pack, guiding your clan to the meeting point. You could just see the white, canvas tops of the tents and yurts that had been constructed for the ceremony, meant to house hundreds of people for at least three days. Yours was the biggest, its adornment the most splendid. But that was little comfort to your frayed nerves.
You were miles from home at this point, missing the comfort of your room and your books, knowing that you would never return there, and that perhaps your new Alpha would not allow you to keep any of your belongings from your old life.
You’d heard horror stories from some of the Betas in your clan, tales of Alphas who used their Omegas like slaves, keeping them clad in irons, surviving in dark dungeons only to be used to breed and to give their Alphas carnal pleasure.
While you were being prepared for this journey, a pair of Beta women had helped you paint your skin, drawing intricate symbols and prayers in gold flake, chittering about the ceremony and the feast without knowing what you had been through over the past six weeks.
“This is the first time I will witness a ceremony done in the old way,” Beta Lilia said.
“Do you know which Alpha will claim you?” Lilia’s friend, Beta Tyran, asked you, not knowing how loaded her words were.
You shook your head; you didn’t even know how many Alphas belonged to Clan 141. Lilia gushed about them for you, taking the conversation out of your hands,
“Clan 141 has four Alphas! Can you imagine? I hear that they have an entire army of Omegas as well. Alpha Garrick is so handsome, and he has three gorgeous Omegas. They are almost too beautiful to look upon.. I saw him when I was at the central market once. He was leading a team, hunting the vagabonds who set fire to a farmer’s field, you remember when that happened? It was years ago now. He was so imposing. But, that other one was there, too.”
She made a face that was strong enough to make you ask about it,
“Which one?”
“The Ghost, Alpha Riley. They say that no one has seen his face. He wears a terrifying skull mask. I heard from Yair that he has three Omegas as his guards, all masked as well. Yes! Guards! They have armor and weapons and huge, bulging muscles. Beautiful and lethal –”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Beta Tyran interrupted, “No one would give their Omegas weapons. No one would let their Omegas out in the public markets! Imagine the danger.”
Lilia shrugged, “Yair said that these Omegas were the danger.”
Then, you heard about Alpha MacTavish, a descendant from one of the ancient warlords, charming and fearsome. He kept two Omegas as his brides, always pregnant, but almost as fearsome as Alpha Riley’s guards. Alpha MacTavish often expected them to travel with their Beta friends, to take their children up into the mountains, hunting and fishing and exploring outdoors. All sorts of stories about his large, loving family. You silently hoped you would be claimed by him. It would be nice to live amongst Omegas and their cubs.
“Which one is their Apex Alpha? There must be one in a clan with so many Alphas,” you mused, asking the girls since you did not know much about Clan 141 yourself.
The Betas shared a look, and then Lilia shook her head,
“You will not be claimed by him, Omega. Don’t worry.”
“Why?” You pried, using your influence to force her to tell you.
“His name is Alpha Price, the leader of Clan 141. He’s the deadliest man in the entire land, and he’s the one who destroyed Clan Konni.”
The weight of that news sank in, and the dramatic tone of her story had attracted other Betas and Watchers to gather around you to listen to her tale,
“Alpha Price has never claimed an Omega. They say that he had tried. He had found one of Alpha Garrick’s Omegas to be very pretty, but she tried to take his knot and failed, so Alpha Garrick took her under his protection instead.”
“Failed?” Watcher Bhin asked, shocked by the implication.
“My sister was a medic who served with the Alliance in the most recent skirmish, and the 141 helped defeat the rebels who were killing members of Clan Darrah a few years ago. She said that she served under the doctor who had healed Alpha Garrick’s Omega. Said he’d never seen anything like it before in his life. She was so strong, and yet…”
Lilia’s words hung heavy in the air, and all of the women looked at each other and then at you, suddenly feeling the weight of your sacrifice, ashamed at their earlier levity. Tyran shook her head and patted you on the arm,
“Don’t worry. Alpha Price will not claim you. You have nothing to worry about.”
That night, painted gold and covered in your black silks, you sat in your tent and meditated while you waited for the other clans to arrive. Your mind kept wandering to Alpha Price and his lonely existence. Had he really injured an Omega during his claiming of her? How large must his knot have been to do so? It made you shudder to think about it, and yet deep inside of you, your core warmed from the thought. If he imprinted on you…
But, imprinting was just a myth. Something only written in old texts as a footnote or a story. It was a part of the ritual of The Exchange, but it wasn’t real.
“Omega,” Watcher Trinity interrupted your meditation and peeked her head into your tent, “It is time to present The Cloth.”
Clan 141 was here, then.
The ritual of The Exchange began with The Shroud, which you were already wearing. Then, it was The Cloth. If all went well, it would then be The Meeting. And finally, The Ceremony.
The Cloth was a gift from the Omega to her new Alpha, a token of her affection and a chance for him to smell her scent for the first time. In ancient legends, this is when her true mate would imprint upon her, her Omegan scent bringing out his Alphic marks, dark spots or stripes across his neck and back, making him look like a big cat, ready to bite into her neck and claim her as his own.
She tried to shake herself out of that fantasy world. All she could hope was that one of their Alphas would be drawn to her scent enough to accept her. Her people were depending on her.
“Here is your cloth, Omega. I embroidered it myself. I hope that it honors you,” Watcher Trinity handed you a wooden box, carved and adorned with great care, and when you opened it, you found a red silk square of fabric, sewn with the sigils and symbols of your clan in fine gold thread. You smiled up at your Watcher and reached out to hold her in your arms,
“It’s perfect, Watcher. Thank you for caring for me.”
You were both fighting off tears when she finally pulled away. You hoped that your Alpha would at least let you say goodbye after the ceremony, even if you might never see her again.
Watcher Trinity and all of the other women left you alone again in your tent, giving you privacy to prepare The Cloth. You made yourself naked, and you began to rub the silk across your neck and glands, trying to soak your scent into the piece. Then, you wiped it between your legs, swiping up some of your wetness to coat the fabric. Usually, this would be enough. You could call your Watcher back into the tent and give her the box, and you would be done.
But, something in your heart told you to try to call out your slick. You listened to your instincts, and you began to rub the soft fabric against your folds, bringing your own pleasure to a warm, shining height. Just when you thought you might not be able to do it, that your nervousness would make it too difficult or that you might black out again from the effort, you felt something inside of you slip free. Then, your hole was flooded, the orgasm making your vision go blurry and form spots at the edges, your whole body convulsing from the strength of your pleasure, and you had to lay down just to try and stay awake through your gushing bliss.
You felt it coat the silk and your hand, a thick, milky slick, and your heart swelled with pride. You knew that a gift this special would sway the attention of at least one of their Alphas. You trusted in your skills and training that you were worthy of this ceremony and that your people would be saved.
Sitting up, you carefully opened the box and returned The Cloth to its resting place, soaked with your scent. You took time to clean yourself up, stuffing wet blankets into your laundry packs and hiding them away, remaking your nest before your Watcher would know what you had done. You weren’t sure why you were keeping a secret from them, but you just felt like this was something between you and your Alpha. A promise, of sorts.
You replaced your black silks and veil over your otherwise unclothed body and called your Watchers. They entered your tent along with Alpha Roan.
His eyes widened as he approached you, taking the box from your hands. Quietly, as if knowing that this was an extremely private affair, he whispered to you,
“What have you done, little Omega?”
“I am doing what needs to be done, Alpha. Please, deliver my message to my new Master.”
You use of the ancient terminology caught your clan Alpha off guard, but you were glad of it. If this was to be done in the old way, then you would withstand it, but you would also do it your way. You were the Omega, here, and you were the reason your clan would survive this struggle. It was time you started acting like the heroine that you were. You would be your people’s strength, no matter the cost.
“Very well,” Alpha Roan sighed, closing the box, calling out to your team, “Watchers, bring your Omega to The Cloth ritual.”
You were guided to the path again, leaving your tent behind and walking towards the big, outdoor theater. It was a crude coliseum of sorts, a large circular pit lined with rows and rows of carved seating that was cut into the land. People had already begun to line the viewing platforms, each clan decorated in their traditional garb. You felt proud to see the stripe of red where your people sat, holding each others’ hands and praying for your safe arrival.
You were not greeted with raucous applause but instead with reverent silence. Alpha Roan walked in front of your Watchers, and you were the last one into the theater, dressed only in your sheer shroud, trying your best not to feel self-conscious about the fact that - because of the firelight - everyone could see your naked, painted body through the veil, even though you were covered head to toe in the organza. In the tent, the lighting was low and kept you in darkness, hiding your body under the thin silk. But, not here in the theater. Your skin was illuminated by the torches, and you knew that even your friends and neighbors could now see your most private parts.
You made sure that your face did not give away your lingering shame.
Alpha Roan took center stage, and you saw the Alphas of Clan 141 for the first time.
Alpha MacTavish was standing between his two Omegas, and you mused that his oldest children must have stayed behind to care for his cubs. He was dressed in his Clan’s black gear, covered in armor like a gladiator, his head shaven into a mohawk, spiked and messy on the crown of his head. His body was huge and stocky, and the Omegas seated at his sides looked so tiny compared to his bulk. But, they were strong. Their bellies were round with the promise of future cubs, and their skin and hair glowed like the stars.
Alpha Garrick stood next to him, his Omegas seated together to his right, dressed in the finest robes you had ever seen. He clearly had a type, and you thought that they looked like triplets, all decorated in jewels and gold, riches you’d never even dreamt of. Their Alpha was every bit as handsome as the stories had promised. He had pouty, full lips that were curled in a snarky sort of smile, and his soft brown eyes exuded pure confidence. His hands were wide and powerful, resting on his curved blade that lay sheathed at his hip.
Alpha Riley was masked, as you had been told, as were his Omegas. They were not seated, and every bit of armor that was strapped to his hulking body was also strapped to them. They had glittering knives, bows, arrows, and slings, looking like they could win their own war by themselves. Their bodies were heavily muscled, and all four of them seemed as tall as Alpha MacTavish, standing proudly in leather boots.
Then, you saw Alpha Price. He was holding a large wooden stick, at least seven feet tall, with hundreds of notches sliced into the side. You wondered what he was keeping track of, and you shuddered to know. His beard was neatly trimmed, and his hair was cut high and tight on the sides. He was certainly bigger and better muscled than each of his men, but that was not what you noticed about him first. It was his eyes. They were piercingly blue, like glacial ice, and they were looking right at you. Hungry.
Something inside of your core tightened under his scrutiny, but Alpha Roan’s voice shook you from your trance,
“Clan Arlos welcomes Clan 141 to The Exchange. We present you with our offering, an unmated Omega, 26 years of age, fully trained in the old ways of our people. She is our greatest gift, and we ask for your acceptance of our sacrifice.”
Alpha Roan held up the box with The Cloth inside for all to see. He set it on the large, marble altar in the middle of the stage and backed away from it, waiting for the other Alphas to take part in the ritual.
Alpha Price spoke, and your body nearly trembled at the sound of his deep, purring voice. You were more nervous than you thought, and you tried to breathe to manage yourself.
“We will consider your honorable offering, Clan Arlos.”
With that, he slammed his huge stick against the stony ground and Alpha MacTavish stepped up to the altar. He opened the box, and along with the other Alphas in attendance, his body had a visceral reaction. His hands went to touch the cloth and he brought it to his nose, smelling your scent with a sort of wonder and amazement.
Then, to your great relief, he raised his hand, palm outward, as a show of his acceptance of your scent. If you accepted him as well, you would be mated.
But, the slamming sound of the stick shook you out of your celebrations. Alpha Price called up Alpha Garrick.
This was most unusual. Typically, only one Alpha had to agree. It wasn’t like you had much choice in the matter. Even if Alpha MacTavish’s scent did not stir your heart, you would still submit to him as expected. This was not a marriage of love but of convenience.
MacTavish looked back over his shoulder at Price, just as shocked as you were. His Omegas looked even more taken aback, strangely offended that you would not automatically join them. But, Alpha MacTavish returned the cloth to the box and made room for Garrick, disappointed and visibly confused.
Alpha Garrick opened the box and buried his face against The Cloth, breathing in once, twice, and then tasting the fabric, right in front of everyone. It was his right, but it was a little audacious.
His palm went up, high in the air, and his Omegas smiled and held each other’s hands, excited at your acceptance.
Another loud slam. Another rejection.
You may still end up with MacTavish or Garrick after negotiations, you remembered, but you were now wondering why Alpha Price had chosen to test you against all three of his men before making a decision. It was very odd. Alpha Roan looked greatly concerned.
Alpha Riley approached the altar, his gloved hands prying open the box, then, he lifted the bottom of his mask to reveal his mouth and nose. The slightest murmur of shock rippled through the crowd. He bent to smell your scent, and he raised his hand in the air, signaling his acceptance before replacing his mask. You thought you caught the hint of a smile just before his pale lips disappeared beneath the skull plate again.
Slam! The stick pounded against the floor.
All of Clan 141 turned to look at Alpha Price at once. Your heart stopped. Why would he… Why would Alpha Price want to undergo The Cloth ritual himself? He had no Omega. Surely, he wouldn’t claim you now, not after what had happened. You watched Alpha Garrick’s Omegas. One of them stared at Alpha Price with wide, glossy eyes. You thought that it must be his prior candidate for a mate. She was afraid for you. They were all afraid.
All eyes were on Alpha Price as he approached the altar, and the entire theater was silent as he took The Cloth in his hands. He lay it out flat, in no rush, inspecting the wet stain that you had left for him, using his thumb to feel the fine, gold embroidery. Then, his eyes darted up to yours. He was the first one to look at you while he held The Cloth to his nose, that icy gaze making you tremble with anticipation.
You were so lost in his eyes that you didn’t see what was stirring the crowd. There was a loud gasp and then an explosion of whispers. You looked around, trying to understand what was happening. Then, when he tucked The Cloth into his breast pocket, keeping you for himself, you saw it.
Long, red lines began to stain his skin like lightning. All of his veins tattooed themselves across his neck, and although his armor was covering his shoulders, you knew that the marks would be there as well.
Alpha Price had imprinted for you.
Then, he silenced the crowd by raising his right hand, palm up, staring at you the entire time.
You were whisked away, surrounded by your Watchers, hearing Alpha Roan’s voice behind you, sounding like protest, but you couldn’t make out the words. Compared to the initial silence, the area erupted in a shattering din, clans shouting and yelling over each other, the drama from the ritual dividing the people.
You thought you would be taken back to your tent, but you were brought to a large lake about five hundred yards from the theater. It was quiet again. No one was allowed to follow you here, it seemed.
Watcher Trinity tried to explain in a rushed whisper, helping you climb into a boat and rowing you out to the middle of the lake,
“There is a dispute for your claiming. Alpha Roan will negotiate new terms, and Clan 141 must decide who will be your Alpha. It will be alright, Omega. It’ll be alright.”
She sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than you.
“What now?”
“Because there is not just one Alpha who has claimed you, they will undergo a ritual called The Trial. It is a fight; a test of will. Whichever Alpha can win will be granted the right to appeal to you first. If you reject him, then you will be given a chance to hear the appeal from the second.”
“So, it will be up to me, then?”
“Yes. Alpha Price has put the choice in your hands. Very odd, and not in our custom, but we must honor his wishes. You will wait here for the winner.”
You looked around. You were now in the middle of the lake, and there was a platform lingering just below the water. It was a wide stone block, about three meters wide in each direction. Watcher Trinity helped you out of the boat and you stepped tentatively onto the platform.
“Will you wait with me?” You asked, feeling the uncertainty and fear finally get the better of you.
“No, my Omega. I cannot. These waters are forbidden to Betas. Only Alphas and Omegas can touch it. Take this. It is your flare. If you are in trouble, if he tries to get to you, fire it high into the sky and we will rescue you. You can do this. I know you are strong. Wait patiently for your Alpha,” she paused, grabbing your hand, “I realize you are doing this for us, but please, follow your heart.”
“I will, Watcher.”
So, you waited. You meditated, standing in an inch of cool lake water as you tried to commune with the land around you. And you waited some more. Hours passed until, finally, you saw torches. Your Watchers lined one side of the lake, and they greeted the newcomers. Then, you saw him. Alpha Price was being stripped down by your Watchers. They took his weapons from him, and then his clothes, making him naked on the shoreline. He craned his neck, trying to look for you in the lake, but it was dark and you were dressed in black.
You could see him just fine, though. His huge body was covered in short, curly hair, dense and dark against his skin. His muscles bulged and popped as he peeled away his layers of clothing. They left his undergarments on, little more than a linen loincloth. Then, you saw your Watchers attach a huge, metal collar around his neck. They clamped it together with a padlock in the back, and a huge chain was attached at the latch.
They bound his hands, chaining them together, and then loaded him into the boat. They rowed toward you with his back facing the platform, and as he got closer, you saw his imprint markings, red and raised like jagged scars across his neck and shoulders. Your scent had marked him permanently. The welts would go down, and the red would fade, but it would always be there, evidence of his imprinting.
The boat reached you, and he climbed out of it, sitting on the opposite side of the platform from you, just far enough to be out of range for your scent.
His eyes found yours again, staring at you through your veil, finding your gaze with a natural ease. He held a small box in his hands, and you thought you saw the phantom of a smile across his lips as you looked over his face.
The boat rowed to shore, dragging the long chain all the way back, and you were alone with him. It was quiet for a long while. You were just staring at each other, studying each other, trapped in a silent battle.
You looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time his cut, bloody knuckles, and he saw the worry cross over your eyes.
“They’re fine,” he said quietly, “My men. If that’s what you were wondering.”
“But, you triumphed over them, clearly,” you replied, not trusting your own voice.
He chuckled a bit, sighing,
“I did.”
“You fought for me, then.”
The laughing stopped, and he lifted his chin, proudly,
“I did.”
“And you are here for my acceptance.”
He didn’t respond to your cue, but instead, he took the box in his hands and slid it across the platform, skittering it along the surface of the water, making little splashes as it landed in front of you.
You reached for it, opening it up to reveal a shining key.
“Throw it in the lake,” he commanded you, using his Alpha’s voice to bend your will.
It shocked you, and you were so close to obeying, but you stopped, cutting your eyes at him,
“What is this?”
“Throw. It. Omega.”
His voice seared through your blood, calling to you with old magic. You fought hard to keep your mind under your own control,
“Stop! Stop it. Tell me what this is, Alpha.”
“It unlocks my collar. Otherwise, if I make so much as a shift in your direction that they don’t like,” his head turned to look back toward your watchers, “They will pull me into the lake, and I will drown.”
“And if I unlock it…”
“Then, you will be my mate,” his tone turned vitriolic then, “And you will die.”
You let his words sink in, your curiosity overcoming your fear,
“You believe your knot cannot be taken.”
He spat back,
“My belief is not –”
“But, it’s not up to you,” you interrupted him, “Is it?”
The shock that washed over his bright eyes filled you with a sort of sick satisfaction. You should be afraid of him, but your roles were reversed out here on this rock, and you were holding him under your command.
“Toss that key, girl. MacTavish fought hard for you. He’ll care for you. He’s a good man.”
“Are you a good man?”
“No,” he growled, his eyes dropping to the water, examining the chains around his own hands, inspecting them for the bloodstains that he obviously thought should be there.
“I am here for my people, Alpha Price. I am not looking for a husband. I am a resource to be traded for other resources. My clan needs The Exchange. Our people are starving, and I –”
“I would not let them starve,” Price’s eyes shot back up, indignant that you would suggest that he would leave you and your clan without food or water.
You let yourself smile slightly, teasing him,
“Spoken like a good man.”
He twisted his lips over his teeth, but he stayed quiet. You continued to torment him,
“Why did you raise your hand for me?”
He sighed, sitting forward, sloping his shoulders toward you,
“I couldn’t help it. My Alpha…He…” He paused, searching for the words, “I could smell you through the box. I knew you from the moment I saw you walk through the arena. And when my men all raised their hands for you, I knew you would be accepted as our Clan Omega. You are mine in every way that matters. And I cannot have you.”
His voice was full of bitterness. You wanted to smell him. What were the chances that he was your true mate? One-sided imprinting was rare, but true mates were one in a million.
You stood, surprising him, and he jolted back, sitting up right. The chain around his wrists clattering. You looked over at the shoreline. Your Watchers held the long chain around his neck, heavy and sagging into the black water, ready to yank it tight if he lunged for you, if he fell prey to his Alphic instinct to breed you.
He watched you approach, seeing how the water rippled with every step you took, gazing upon the dripping silks that clung to your legs, devouring you with his eyes. You stopped in front of his crossed legs, Knowing that he could smell you now. Your pussy was shielded only with a few layers of silk, and you watched him flare his nose, sniffing you right in front of his face, blowing a slow exhale of air through his lips, making the organza billow between your legs.
“Can I smell your scent, Alpha?” You whispered, your voice slicing through the silence of the still lake.
His chains clattered as he twisted his head to look up at you, peeling his eyes away from your pretty pussy to meet your gaze. Then, he bent his head to one side, giving you his neck, showing you his scent gland, a sea of red stripes emanating from its center.
You bent over him, closing the gap, steadying yourself by laying a gentle hand on his huge shoulder. Then, you took a long pause and breathed him in. His scent swirled through your body, wrecking your other senses. It was only him. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Your Alpha. Your mate. Your true mate.
You felt the red marks of your imprint streak across your skin, and his eyes widened in shock as he saw them branch through your veins and across your gland just as his had done.
The click of a lock made his eyes flash back to you, and with that movement, his heavy collar tumbled into the lake, the drag of the chain singing as it scraped the side of the platform.
“What have you done, my Omega?” Price breathed.
It was the second time you’d been asked that question. Your response was still the same:
“I am doing what needs to be done, Master. I am giving myself to you, my true mate.”
The boats were in the water the moment the collar slipped from his neck. The Watchers were on you in moments, and Price’s Beta soldiers were there to collect him. You watched as they rowed you two apart, taking you back to your camps to prepare for the ceremony.
Your Watchers were in a rush. There were only a few hours until sunrise. Your wet robes were switched out for red ones, and a red veil adorned your head. Underneath, you were rubbed and painted and sprayed with oils, until finally, Watcher Trinity came forward with a bowl of salve. She had made it herself, you could tell. She cared for you so deeply.
“I trust you, Omega. I know you know what you’re doing. But, please take this. It will help your muscles relax for him, and it will make it easier to bring on your natural defenses.”
She was being coy, avoiding using the word to refer to your slick, knowing that you had your own method of calling it forth using your special power. But, you took it from her anyway, and after you were left alone again to meditate, you used two fingers to massage it into your hole, feeling its effects begin to warm you, making your flesh supple and pliant.
A hand curled around your tent flap, pulling it open. Instead of your Watcher, you saw one of Garrick’s Omegas. It was her, the one who had failed to take your Alpha’s knot.
She stepped inside,
“May I speak with you?”
You nodded, motioning for her to sit,
“Yes, but I’m afraid I already know what you are about to say.”
Her eyes widened,
“If you know, then why have you accepted this? Alpha MacTavish was his second. He is not to your liking? His Omegas are kind and –”
“No, they were all to my liking. I am eager to join your pack in whichever way I can, but Alpha Price is my true mate.”
You showed her your skin from under the red silks, knowing she could not see them through the red of the veil. She gaped at them,
“Your… true mate? He could… This could kill you, Omega. I don’t want to see you come to harm, and it would destroy him. I saw how he was after my accident. I nearly blamed myself for his deep sorrow.”
“I trust my training, Omega, and I am so grateful for your support, but he is my mate. What is meant to happen to me, will.” You stood with her, seeing your Watchers hovering just outside the tent, signaling them that you were ready to leave.
“Then, I trust you as well. The others are so excited to meet you. I wish you an easy path, and I hope your ceremony is just as you want it to be. After this, you will be our Clan Omega, and I will serve you until the end of my days.”
She kissed your cheek through your veil and left you to be delivered back to the altar.
For a long time, you had wondered if this final walk away from your pack would be a sad one. You expected every step to be filled with hesitation and fear. But, the only thing you felt was joy. Your mate awaited you at the end of this long path, and you were ready to submit to him. He was worthy of your strength, and he would help you deliver your people from danger. You would rule beside him, helping him use the 141 for good, eradicating the evil from your land.
The sun’s pink wash was rising out of the horizon line just as you reached the theater. The crowd was silent again, and you saw the pallor and shock painted on all of their faces. They were expecting a funeral instead of a feast. They had no idea why anyone would be so desperate as to sacrifice their only Omega to this Alpha, especially when it was not necessary. But, they didn’t realize that you were no prisoner. You were no one’s puppet. You were in charge, here, and your Alpha would breed you as you commanded him to.
Your Watchers led you to the altar, kissing your hands through the thin cloth as they passed you to take their seats near Clan Arlos, tears in their eyes and staining their cheeks, and finally, your clan Alpha approached you.
“Alpha Roan,” you greeted him.
“Little Omega,” he smiled, kissing your hands just as your Watchers had done. He didn’t need to, but it was his way of showing everyone that he trusted your choice, “I hope you know what you are doing.”
“I do,” you said, smiling at him through your red silk veil.
Then, Alpha Price’s men came through the center of the theater, each of them bending to kiss your hands. But, instead of the back of your knuckles, they turned them over to kiss your palms, a sign that they would accept what you had to give them. Alpha Riley was first, and he lifted his mask to show you his mouth and chin, his kiss warm and tender against your skin. Then, Alpha Garrick knelt down, placing multiple kisses along your fingers and wrists, displaying his loyalty and respect. Finally, Alpha MacTavish knelt before you, daring to whisper to you as he kissed your palms,
“Brave lass.”
You used your thumb to pet his lip, acknowledging his trust in you.
Then, it was time for the Omegas to join you. They approached as a unit, not individually as their Alphas had done, and they helped you lay on the altar, guiding your body back onto the marble platform. They pulled at your silks, allowing the crowd to see your naked body, painted in fine brushes of intricate gold designs, of prayers and songs of your people, their symbols adorning you from neck to toe. Finally, they began to kiss you, licking and sucking at your mouth like lovers, showing their devotion to you as their clan Omega.
As they kissed you, your skin began to flush hot, your body somehow knowing what was about to happen to you. The Omegas felt your fire against their lips, and they pulled your legs apart, each of them bending to lick and suck at your flower’s drooling petals, slurping and sucking up your creamy nectar. They were at your breasts, your neck, your belly, your hands and feet. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, shaking and trembling under their affection, yet moved by their deep loyalty. You knew you would be safe with them. They would care for you just as your clan had done.
Then, you heard the familiar slam of a longstaff. Your Alpha had arrived.
According to the ceremony, you were meant to be still and silent as a showing of your acceptance. If you moved or cried out in any way, you risked a clan war, as taking a mate without their consent was a dark offense. You had to prove to your people that you were here of your own free will, and even though you were feeling the static cling of apprehension beginning to worm its way into your chest, you tried to breathe through it, trusting your Alpha to lead you through this moment with his protective power.
Your legs were lowered to the stirrup-style rests that were carved just below the stone table, keeping your knees wide apart, allowing your pussy to drip openly, glistening with the beginnings of your slick. You calmed yourself as they left you alone, each of them kissing you softly once more to show their reverence.
Then, you heard the clatter of fallen armor. He was undressing, removing his warlord’s mantle and coming to you fully bare. You spotted him between the vee of your legs as he approached the dais, his imprint marks flushed a deep wine red, his body shining with the traditional oils, meant to give him another layer of aphrodisiacs, promoting his production of his seed, keeping his cock tall and hard.
But, you knew that your imprint on his gland would do more than all of their drugs combined. He would kill every last person in this arena to get to you at this point, and although you had consented to this joining, you were no longer controlling it. He would take you, no matter what.
Then, when he got close enough to your platform, you saw it. It was standing proudly against his thick, furry belly, dripping with precome and lubricants, glittering in the rising sun. His cock was immense. You had not practiced on one so large. And his knot was larger than your two fists pressed together. He was intact, and his foreskin was slipping down his flushed head, unable to contain the swelling glans. Your body threatened to quiver from your suspense, and you tried to move your mind into your meditative trance.
As he approached, he did not go straight for his position between your legs. Instead, he walked around the front of the marble platform and bent to look you in your eyes, leaning his head down for a deep, heady kiss. He fed you his tongue and suckled on yours, letting it writhe inside of his mouth, rubbing against his own probing muscle.
He pulled away to gaze upon you, his eyes soft and full of joy. You smiled up at him, watching as he enjoyed the rest of your body, caressing your breasts, admiring your paintings.
“Did my clan show you their loyalty, my Omega?”
“Yes, Master,” you answered quietly.
“Are you prepared for me to show you mine?”
“Yes, Master. I am,” you replied, giving him a brave face despite the absolute weapon that was slobbering for you against his belly. You wanted to taste it, but now was not the time.
He returned to the base of your platform, kneeling in front of your wet hole, bending to place his mouth against you. He began to suck, pulling your soft lips into his mouth like he was starving, lapping up the beginnings of your body’s fluids, moaning from the taste and the smell of your scent. You wanted to moan, you wanted to pin his head to your trembling quim, but you didn’t dare move a muscle or make a single sound. Breathing in, breathing out, letting the sparks of an orgasm rush through you, bringing tears to your eyes from holding back so much pleasure.
Your Watcher’s salve was almost too effective. It had made you pliant, but now you were beyond sensitive, able to feel the pound of your own heartbeat through your hole, desperate for something to press inside of you. You needed his cock.
But, he did not give it to you. He just sucked and sucked and sucked, and his fingers began to rub along the entrance of your slippery hole, pressing down on your pussy’s walls, testing their strength. You fluttered for him, just like your Watchers had taught you, and you felt him stumble in his movements, shocked by your power.
He stood between your legs, his face and beard soaking from his meal, letting you drip off of his chin like a messy hound drinking from a river. Then, to test your resolve, he teased you with a little bit of meanness, stepping forward to let his cock lay along your body, measuring himself on the outside of you. He reached far beyond your navel, his lubed phallus warm and heavy, his knot resting in the softness of your folds, and you could feel him throbbing for you.
You didn’t dare move, but you wanted to cradle his cock in your hands, to rub up and down his length, to feel the smoothness of his head and the firmness of his knot. But, you stayed stock still, showing the crowd that you would not waver. There was some soft chittering from the clans, the shock at his size obviously enough to break onlookers out of their respectful quiet.
Then, he began notching his head at the entrance of your pussy, letting the tip slide up and down your tight ring of muscles that guarded your entrance.
“Last chance, Omega. Call it off. Cry out, and my own men will cut me down,” he bade you under his breath, having a hard time holding his words and sentences together, his voice shaking in his throat.
You looked up at him with closed lips, making a point to give him a soft smile as a response.
No deal.
You pulsed your muscles again, making your pussy lap up his sloppy precome like a little mouth, watching as he was torn apart by your action, no matter how minor.
So, without any other choice, he fed himself into you. It was a fearsome experience, at first. You weren’t sure if you could actually handle him. But, you breathed through the stress, relaxing your body, finding that deep, secret place inside of you, making your slick drop down for him, flooding your hole to welcome him in.
The confusion that painted his face was so satisfying. He couldn’t understand the sheer warmth and comfort he was experiencing. His cock was being sucked into you, deeper and deeper, and finally, you felt his knot.
He pulled all the way out of you, and sheathed himself all the way back in, always reaching to that one spot, just above his bulbous anchor, and then starting his process over again. Each time his cock fucked its way through your body, humping himself into you, creamy, milking noises filled the quiet, open-air arena. The whole ensemble could hear him invading your hole, the lurid slap of skin on skin loud and unashamed.
His phallus was large enough to rub against your most sensitive spot over and over, bullying it into producing more and more slick, making you come just by dragging his heavy cockhead over it, in and out, in and out, pounding into you with almost reckless need.
You came for him, and your body began to shiver from the overwhelming bliss, but you held your voice. You tried to still yourself, not wanting to show weakness, but there was nothing you could do. You were shattered by his cock, coming over and over again. It was an endless wave. You had no idea where one started and the other stopped.
You could taste blood in your mouth from biting the inside of your cheek. Still, you pushed through it, testing yourself with every push and pull of your body.
His huge hands pawed at your hips and breasts, squeezing you, watching your plump flesh jiggle with every cruel strike of his hips. Your Alpha took your own slick and began to rub it all over your skin, swirling it around your nipples, letting it smear across your belly from his palm. Then, he painted himself, taking it from your well-fucked hole and rubbing it across his scent gland, down his chest, matting his hair with your wetness.
Then, you felt his precome begin to pump out of him. You knew it had begun because this was when your slick was meant to wash through you, but there was no space for anything else. So, it began to pour out of you and over his knot. Every time he pushed it against your body, it threatened to slip into your hole, and you were filled with a twisted excitement, ready for it to be stuck inside of you, to churn and grind against your insides, to trap you in a blinding, rageful bliss. You nearly cried out from the heavy want you felt in your chest.
“You ready for my knot, pretty Omega?” He growled, no longer speaking to you softly. There was no gentleness left within him.
He shoved you back across the dais, climbing up onto it with you, breaking every protocol by doing so, but knowing there wasn’t a single other Alpha in attendance who would do anything about it unless you asked them to. But, he trusted you, lifting himself above you, bringing his face to your face, kissing you and beginning to lick your scent gland, making you see stars.
Would he really bite you right here in front of all these people while you were about to take his knot? It was beyond intimate. Not only was it private, but it was dangerous. It was when an Alpha was most vulnerable. The audacity of this man shook you to your core.
“Bite me, Omega. Please take me. Claim me as yours, sweetheart. Show them that you are mine. My Omega.”
His voice was ragged and deep, a hoarse purr of commands, all of which you were happy to obey. You began to lick his neck, putting your mouth over his gland as you began to suck at the round swell of flesh. Then, just as you canted your hips, feeling his knot slip inside of you, shoving and burying itself within the tight sheath of your pussy, you used your muscles to yank him the rest of the way in, and you bit down on his neck, hard, your body seizing from a hard, ruthless orgasm. .
You heard the crack of his gland, and you felt him sink his fangs into yours, the pain and the pleasure mixing within you like a drug, his cock firing rope after rope of searing hot come into your belly, flooding your womb with his spend. He pulled his mouth away and stared into your eyes. His pupils were blown wide, his face full of disbelief,
“My love…”
You kissed him, taking his lip into yours, suckling on it, trying to guide him back down from his tantric high. He was struggling above you, stuck deep inside of you, unable to stop himself from dumping heavy loads of his come into your body, his cock pulsing and throbbing with each burst of his cream.
He rested his head on your neck, returning his mouth to your gland, and every time he licked it, now, you felt your pussy twist around him, threatening to slam you with another orgasm. You licked him, too, hearing him cry out against your skin, feeling the mirror of your sensations, his heavy phallus jerking as you sucked on his broken gland.
Finally, he was able to rock back and forth, letting his knot slip out of you before popping it back inside, fucking you with it just like he did with his cock. He twisted his hips forward, driving into you with all of his strength, and then he would pull himself back out, the swell of his knot increasing with each thrust until, on the last thrust, he was finally trapped, unable to remove himself from your core.
Now, though, it was your turn. You began to use your muscles to push and pull him from the inside, fucking him like a sleeve of smooth, soaked warmth, jerking his shaft up and down with your insides.
“Oh, fuck…” He whispered, not expecting your skills to be so advanced, but you had trained hard for this moment. You weren’t about to let it go to waste.
You moved him inside of you, letting his knot take the brunt of your efforts, squeezing it like a fruit, making sure all of his juice melted into your skin. You made him come like this again, using the salve that your Watcher had given to you as an advantage, knowing that the heightened sensitivity you felt was now being passed on to him. He filled you up, his knot plugging your hole, preventing any of his seed from leaking out, and your tummy was swollen from his load, round and full for everyone to see.
He sat up on his heels, looking down at you with his eyes full of adoration and wonder, watching your strong abdominals clench and twist as you used them to help you work inside of yourself, edging him over and over before pulling him down into the depths of another hard come with you.
His hands went to the bulge of fluid in your belly, most of it flooding into your womb, unable to escape anywhere else. Your Alpha caressed your skin, marveling at the fullness. Then, he looked down at your stretched hole, playing with your clitorus that had been forced out from under its hood due to the sheer size of his knot, all of your skin bowing around it and pulled tight.
Your Alpha forced you to come like this, milking him hard, trying not to make a sound but giving away your mind-bending pleasure with shaking, whimpering breaths.
“That’s a good Omega. So full of my come.”
You smiled up at him, enjoying the full feeling of his come inside of you. But, you were losing your strength, and he could feel it. Alpha Price leaned over you again, grinding himself down into you and helping you reach one last orgasm, pulling himself along with you, squirting the last of his spend into your pussy. Then, he carefully twisted his cock out of you, watching the gush of his come coat the marble platform, dripping out of you and down the sides of the dais.
You were so empty and weak, but you were being lifted, cradled in his arms, and the whole arena burst into revelrous applause. The feast had begun, but not for you. You would be in your Alpha’s tent, and there you would remain until he bred you, making sure that you were laden with his cub, sharing food and drink with him in bed while you were stuck on his knot, traditionally until sunset when you would be presented to the clans as the new Apex Omega, destined to rule beside him forever.
“Are you done being quiet, my Omega?”
“Yes, Master,” you whispered, nestling into his broad chest.
“Good,” he smiled, “I need to hear you scream for me.”
“And I need my Alpha to breed me. I need your knot again, Master. Don’t pull it out.”
“I’m at your command, my love,” he smiled, planting a kiss on your temple, smearing his own salve across your swollen flesh, working his cock until he was hard again.
When you felt his knot for the second time, you knew you had made the right choice. Your people were safe, and so were you. You weren’t sure if it was the high of your claiming or the truth that you felt in your heart, but you were eager to be dripping with his come every night. Trapped underneath your Alpha was right where you belonged, knotted and full of his love.
Seriously, send help. I was too ashamed to even reread it for typos. I'm so sorry.
#call of duty fanfic#cod mw2#cod mwii#captain john price#cod#john price#call of duty#captain price#captain price x you#john price x female reader#x female reader#x fem!reader#captain price x reader#alpha john price x omega reader#omegaverse#alpha beta omega#ritual#public exhibition
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Messed Up - Joe Burrow
Pairing: Joe Burrow x fem!reader
Word Count: 3k+
Warning: swearing, mentions of s*x, joe's an ass in the beginning and also dumb, driving while on the phone (focus on driving!) angst but fluffy ending
A/N: cleaned out all my wip and deleted around 50 so i could motivate myself to write more. found this gem while i was cleaning
Masterlist / NFL Masterlist
He didn't mean to make you feel like shit. Really. You were the most understand person in the world especially when it came to his job. If he told you that practice was shit and that the winning drought was getting to him then you would've understood, but he just had to say,
"You're a distraction, you need to stop being all over me I can't focus on work."
That one sentence sent everything into a spiral. He regretted it the moment he said it, apologizing as soon as the last word came out but it was too late. The sad eyes mixed with the anger radiating from your body was evident.
"Hope you can focus for Tennessee." Was all you said before grabbing your phone and rushing to the guest bedroom before joe could get you from not locking the door.
Tennessee being venom on yours lips was a reminder that he had an early flight in the morning for this weekend's game. Of course he had to go and say some stupid shit knowing he wouldn't be able to see you till Monday.
His sleep was absolutely shit. He fell asleep outside the guest bedroom hoping in the middle of the night you'd crawl back in bed or open the door and take pity on him, but you didn't. You slept the whole morning. Even when he had to leave. He screwed up. The texts and voice memos he sent you piled in like a train that morning. In every way he could say sorry he wrote and said. He even made sure flowers and breakfast was on your doorstep before he boarded the plane.
You weren't completely heartless, you knew he regretted what he said, but that didn't change the fact that he said it and looked like in that moment he meant it. Not wanting him to have an even more terrible practice and even worst game you caved into the texts, sending a picture of the flowers with a
'Thank you, it's beautiful. Have fun in Tennessee'
Joe felt a wave of relief seeing your text come in. He knew it wouldn't make up for everything, but at least you weren't ignoring him. He was going to take as much as he could get until he saw you on Monday.
Over the next two days the texts were dry on your end. Just simple replies to his texts and pictures here and there of your day (when he asked). Those two days he was thinking of ways to make it up to you. All of his troubles washed away seeing your Instagram stories before the game. No matter how mad you were you still supported him (even if that wasn't your team).
Bengals got a win off the titans, a close game that was decided by a last second field goal. He was grateful for the strong wind and his kickers experience with wind over Tennessees'. He played a hell of a game, scoring 2 passing touchdowns. Seeing your celebratory stories made him feel even better. He thought everything was going to be okay once he got home.
Sure you loved supporting him every chance you got, but that wasn't the entire reason you posted about the bengals win. It would be suspicious if you didn't. Texts from friends who knew you all to well would roll in with
'you and Joe okay?'
'Joe piss you off?'
'Tired of the bengals?'
You didn't want that. You couldn't handle that right now. You got your anger out of the way and all that was left was irritation. Irritation with what Joe had the audacity to say that to you and Irritation that he couldn't just tell you he wasn't in the mood. He made you feel like a slut and that was the last thing you wanted to feel in a relationship with one of the biggest quarterbacks of this generation.
Monday morning rolled around and Joe couldn't be happier to be home. He couldn't wait to tell you all about the win and hear your praises. He loved hearing your insight after game day, especially over a game he knew he played great in.
When he walked in the house he expected the usual greeting and excitement from you. But it was silent. You didn't work today and even if you did you worked from home most days so you'd take a short break to great him. The whole house was quiet, not even music blasting from the speakers. The more he traveled in the house he finally found you in the walk in closest with your earphones in. You knew he was home evident to the notifications your got from the doorbell camera, you just didn't care to meet him at the door to greet him.
"Hey mamas." You felt his hands snake around your waist as he buried his head in your neck.
"Hey. Great game. The plane ride okay?" You asked pausing the current song so you can show some decadency in paying attention to him as much as you didn't want to.
"Yeah. The win made it easier to fall asleep for a bit." He mumbled in your neck. The reminder that he won hit you right in the chest. Maybe he did win because you weren't a distraction this weekend.
"I bet, at least you got some rest."
"Yeah but now I'm home and I couldn't be happier to be here." All you did was hum at his response as you continued to sort your clothes.
"What are you doing?" He noticed you were making an overnight back.
"Staying at Milla's tonight. She wanted a girls night with just us after we were with the girls all yesterday."
"Oh." Was all he could get out. He was confused. Obviously you could make plans whenever you wanted it's just you rarely made plans when he came back from a road game. You dedicated that day to him and him only. He loved those days even after a win, even in a lost you'd spend it in bed watching film and helping him analyze the games.
"Don't forget to put your laundry in the basket." You turned to him patting his cheek before grabbing your bag getting ready to head out.
"Wait! Whats the matter?" He chased you out of the closet with a confused look on his face.
"Nothing? I going to the store to grab dinner so I can cook at Milla's. She's in the mood for my cooking."
"Okay. So I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" His signature pout made its way onto his face. Normally you couldn't resist it, but today you really didn't care what face he was making.
"Mhmm."
"Bye i love you, text me when you get there." He came up to you planting a kiss to your lips deeply with you barely reciprocating it back.
"Will do." You gave a fake smile to him before leaving the house.
You didn't come home the next day. In fact you stayed one more day at Milla's with the reason being that Milla tired you out at the mall and you didn't feel like packing up everything from the tiredness. When you came back Wednesday morning Joe just got back from his morning work out but could tell you were in a rush.
"Hey! Woah in a rush?"
"Heading into work today. Got a new project." You replied swiftly has he watched you get undressed and dressed in front of him. Every ounce in his body wanted to take you in front of the mirror, but with the look on your face and your pacing he knew you were in a hurry.
"Oh okay. I was thinking dinner tonight with Sam, Ja'marr and Tee? Said they missed your cooking."
"Yeah sure. I'll text you when I leave the office." You smiled grabbing your work bag off the bed and rushing out the door before Joe could even pull you in for a goodbye kiss.
The only thing joe could think about all day was you. He couldnt wait till you got home and have you to himself, even though he needed to wait a few for you to play host. The text came in 2 hours after the boys arrived and they were well into a game of 2k. Screaming and jabs made them forget about the food that was promised.
'Hey sorry on short notice staying late tonight. New project is big. Tell the boys I'm sorry and that I'll cook for them next week. Don't wait up for me.'
'It's okay mamas, don't work yourself to hard. I love you'
All he revived was a heart reaction and no follow up text. He found that strange, but put it off as you were focusing on your work. He understood that. Quickly ordering some takeout the boys didn't mind hearing that next week they were for sure getting your cooking.
Joe didn't even know when you got home last night. Having the boys over drained him so he went to sleep earlier then he thought, he tried to stay up to wait fr you but failed. So to his surprise you weren't even in bed when he woke up. You weren't in the bathroom either. When he made his way downstairs he saw you already dressed for the day washing your finished coffee cup and making a new batch to go.
"Hey I didn't hear you get in last night."
"Yeah I crashed on the couch. To tired to go upstairs." Which had some truth to it. He knew you loved the couch so it wasn't strange you slept downstairs.
"Already heading out?" He asked coming up behind you circling his arms around your waist burying his head into the crook of your neck.
"Just for a few hours. Want to understand the project to I can bring it home for a few days."
"Mhmm, sounds good I missed you home." He mumbled still being comfortable in the crook of your neck.
"You need to get ready for practice and I need to run." You gave him a tight lip smile before rushing out with your coffee and bag in hand. No goodbye kiss, not even a goodbye in general.
He knew something was up, but couldn't figure out what. This whole week since he got back you were short with him. He wasn't even sure he saw you for an hour combined this whole week. The three men who were over that night could tell Joe was deep in his thoughts.
"What's got you all depressed?" Expressed Ja'marr as they were taking a break on the bench.
"My girl. I haven't even seen her for an hour combined the whole week."
"Woah what did you do to piss her off." Next was Sam who spoke what everyone was thinking.
"Nothing I think? When I got back home she was running off with Milla for a sleepover and that turned into 2 days. When she came back the next morning she was rushing to get to work and stayed overtime which is why she didn't have dinner with us and this morning she was up and out when I woke up. I got two sentences out of her before she rushed out. No goodbye or even a kiss goodbye."
"Oh my guy you messed up big time." Tee said chuckling at the mans stupidity. He didn't know exactly what his teammate did, but knew it was his fault.
"I don't even know what I did! She wasn't like this before the week-" he stopped in his tracks now realizing what could be the cause.
"What did you do?" Ja'marr said knowing that face Joe made all too well.
"Before we flew out, the night before I told her that she was a distraction to me and that I couldn't focus on work with her being all over me." The QB hung his head wanting to knock himself out.
"You gotta be kidding me man."
"You blamed her for your shitty work performance?"
"Oh my god. I didn't even notice. I didn't think she was mad anymore after she was posting about the game on Sunday." Joe was now frantic. How could he have not know sooner.
"Dude she posts every game it would be weird if she didn't." Tee said the obvious thing that Joe didn't seem to notice that it would be weird to everyone else if you didn't post.
"I would even question why she didn't post." Sam shrugged being the dude less on the internet out of the four.
"Holy shit I'm a terrible boyfriend."
"Yeah you fucking are." Tee got out a little too fast.
"Wow thanks guys."
"It's your fault I didn't get her cooking last night? Unbelievable." Ja'marr exclaimed making Joe roll his eyes. Of course that was all he focused on.
"So how are you going to make this up?" Sam spoke seeing his friend stressing out.
"I don't know. But I need to do something before she comes home."
As soon as practice ended he rushed home having no time to waste. On the drive home he managed to order food from your favorite restaurant, have flowers delivered to home and a bag you've been eyeing for months. He was going to wait till Christmas to get the bag, but what better time than right now. As dangerous as it would be to be on his phone while driving he checked your location every minute to make sure he would make it home before you. Just as he reached home it was when you left your work place. He hoped you'd come straight home and not make any detours.
He worked fast, putting the flowers front and center on the kitchen counter, unpacked the food and put it on plates and finally placed the Dior package next to the flowers. Smiling at the little set up he looked at this phone seeing he had time to get dressed up. Sure you didn't mind the sweatpants and a bengals shirt but he didn't feel like it was the most "i'm sorry" fit.
Walking through the door you let out a sigh. As much as you wanted to avoid Joe more you couldn't help but admit you missed sleeping in your own bed especially with him in it. Maybe you should let up on your semi silent treatment. Your thoughts were paused when you heard your playlist coming through from the kitchen. Peaking your interest. Turning the corner you found Joe standing all dressed up with a goofy smile on his face.
"What is this?" You inquired placing your work bag on one of the free counters.
"A sorry, a i messed up and i didn't realize it till now."
"Joe-" you started before he cut you off.
"I missed the welcome homes, i love you's and the way call me by a nickname instead of Joe. I was stupid. i thought everything was okay with what I said to you last week but it wasn't. Trust me when i say i didn't mean it. This is no excuse, but it was an in the moment thing. I know my performance was shitty these last few weeks and that my day was bad and that was no excuse to take it out on you when you were only trying to make me feel better. I also know that i should've just came to you. The most understanding girl i know, especially when it comes to my job. I don't know what else to say besides i'm sorry." he got out all in one breathe which shocked you. He wants one for a grand speech, but he was pretty good at it.
"It took you almost a week to realize something was wrong with me." you still didn't want to let down your guard, you were going to milk him for everything he had to say.
"I know, I mean i knew you weren't alright since i left, but i guess i let the praise you gave me online clouded everything. Sorry it took me so long to realize."
"You know you made me feel like a slut. like all i wanted from the new hottest quarterback was sex. normally you like to take your mind off of work when it affects you that much but i was wrong and i'm sorry for that."
"Don't apologize. i never meant to make you feel that way, you are not a slut. you've been there for me since my first year at LSU. how could i make you feel any less." He said pulling you into an embrace which was much needed for the both of you.
"Do you forgive me?" He mumbled in your hair making you giggle at how whiny he sounded.
"I do, and i missed you."
"I missed you more then you could ever know, this past week was worst than my losing streak."
"I doubt that but ill take it. now whats all of this?" You pulled away looking at the little fixture on the kitchen island."
"food from the place you like and a little gift."
"A little? It's a Dior package."
"Open it." he begged you.
Reaching over to the bag you didn't know what was going to be in it, Joe's love language was for sure gift giving so it was always a surprise. When you opened the box you gasped at the bag you've been eyeing out for months. You didn't even tell Joe about your interest in the bag. When you looked back up at Joe he had the signature smirk on his face.
"How did you know?"
"I pay attention believe it or not."
"You didn't have to." You pouted up at him for the sweet gesture. No matter how many gifts he would shower you with it still caught you by surprise everytime.
"I wanted to. I was going to get you it for christmas, but i have enough gifts to spare." he said as a smirk creeped up on his face.
"You're unbelievable." You laughed pulled him down by the jacket he was wearing to plant a deep kiss. He couldn't help but bring you closer. Right when he was going to lift you up on the counter you pulled away.
"Food is going to get cold." You reminded with a smirk of your own making his drop.
"I haven't touched you in so long." he growled out making you laugh.
"Could've had sex the night before your flight and sex this whole week but thats on you." You said patting his chest as you made your way to sit on the barstool.
"Oh you're never going to let that go."
'am i getting my dinner next week?'
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