#test omega lab

[fandomsoda]

I’ve gotten around to drawing more Omega Lab

Glowstick is not usually a fan of Tizzy’s shenanigans.

I’ve never properly displayed Test and Bio’s relationship and it’s essentially this but it can get a bit more interesting at times.

[maidenvault]

A really underrated part of how the inhibitor chips are handled in canon is the fact that they can't be removed without an invasive procedure that has some risk. Whenever a character has his taken out it’s never necessarily an easy choice, a symbolic reminder that it takes bravery to choose not to be controlled by a system, and it gives these moments a lot more emotionality and impact because it’s not just a convenient plot device to restore or preserve their agency.

The most heroic moment Fives has is when learns he has this thing in him and he doesn't even hesitate to tell AZI to get it out, even if trying might kill him, because it so brazenly defies the way all clones have been positioned as powerless pawns whose individuality and choices ultimately won't matter in the big plan. When Rex has been activated and manages to get out just enough words to tell Ahsoka what to do to help him, it's a pretty powerful way of showing how much he trusts her at the end of their journey together throughout the war. Wrecker is the most hesitant to have his removed because he's scared of surgery but sees it's what is safest for everyone.

And thinking about it this way makes me appreciate why Rex's resistance has generally only been acting to help clones that have already willingly turned on the Empire, even though they always try not to hurt the others who may still on some level not be in control of themselves and, some could say, also need help. It makes me understand why the Batch couldn't just try to capture Crosshair at some point in season 1 and make him get his chip removed, something he'd never agree to while still under its influence.

It's implied that the Kaminoans subjected the Batch and Omega to a lot of scary and probably painful tests and procedures as they grew up - so much that Omega understands Echo being triggered by waking up hooked up to monitors and she dreads going back to being used in a lab. Fandom plays this up for angst in fanworks and rightfully calls the Kaminoans horrible for denying them agency over their own bodies in this and many other ways. Even if for a much better reason, the clone troopers who've left the Empire don't really have the right to treat their brothers that way and risk their safety when they're not in a state of being able to consent to it.

Just as none of the clones can reasonably hold themselves accountable for things they've done because of the inhibitor chips, they also can't be considered responsible for saving each other from being controlled by them. It's the Emperor and the Kaminoans that did this to all of them.

[captain039]

On the edge

Alpha Jayce x omega reader

Warnings: AOB, light swearing, feral alpha, intimacy, angst, Spoilers? Fated mates

Jayce returns changed from whatever he was in. Changed and feral with animalistic needs over glowing him

When a medical officer came to your door you were truely not prepared for what you saw. They had timidly ask you to follow them without any other explanation and you were confused and worried afraid one of your family members had been injured but seeing him, in a white room with a simple mattress on the floor and nothing else broke your heart. When Jayce disappeared you didn’t know what to do, his mother heart broken, Viktor gone, Mel gone, half the council dead, Caitlyn turning into head enforcer, and you stuck sitting in a lab with neither Jayce or Viktor by your side. You were by Jayce’s side the whole time Viktor was in that strange case of whatever it was, the hextech fused into this giant healing bath almost. You didn’t know what to do watching the alpha loose part of his small close pack, his best friend and then he disappeared went into the hextech core room and never came back with either of his companions till now.

You stared at the alpha, his jaw so tense you were afraid he’d break teeth. His teeth were bared and he was panting heavily hands fisted by his side. You see his bracelet stone now fused into his skin, you see the wild untamed hair on his head the beard he’d grown, what happened to him?

“We’ve been unable to reach him” the medical officer says beside you and you barely register their words eyes wide mouth slightly part as you stare at Jayce. The once clean golden boy, turned into this.

“We’ve tried everything. We did a mate test on him” you freeze at those words. You half figured it was Mel, but she’s gone too. A mate test was a pricey test you could get if you wish to find your fated, though most people left it down to chance but now it was harder and harder to find one so people gave up while scientists made a new way to find them.

“Mel?” You ask and they shake their making you frown.

“Who?” You ask frowning.

“You my lady” the medical officer says and you frown how the hell were you his mate? You’ve known him your whole life and nothing?

“That’s not possible” you whisper and the officer gives a small sad smile.

“I guess you want me to- go in there?” You ask gesturing to his white room.

“It would be dangerous. he cannot see us through the screen so we will turn it on so he can” the officer waves a hand to the security camera and the alphas body flinches staring at the now two way window. His eyes are the same but different somehow wild, untamed with hunger maybe. You don’t know what to do as he looks to the officer and growls like some wild beast and charges at the glass fists pounding against it making you flinch and step back. He doesn’t notice you too busy with this wild look at the officer.

“Few officers will be around him due to this behaviour I have chosen to stay but he doesn’t like that” the officer comments and you nod.

“Right” you mutter.

Nothing changed for a week, he never looks at you only whoever is beside you having some bad memory and rage towards them. You’re starting to think he doesn’t know who you are and your heart breaks. You’ve slowly come of your suppressors as the officers request, it took a few weeks to adjust but now you feel semi normal as you head back to the facility. You hate the looks you get seeing as natural born omegas are few to none around here in the upper city. You look at Jayce in his room he’s sitting on his bed staring at the ceiling a muscle twitching every now and then his knuckles are bruised and bloodied as always and he looks worse, hollow eyes with big dark eye bags. You hesitate at the door looking to the camera as the door buzzes and unlocks. You head inside seeing Jayce up instantly and snarling. The door seals behind you and you stand very still unsure how to approach or say him in this state. He eyes you and you eye him for what feels like forever before he begins to walk over your whole body tense as his eyes stay on yours intensely before he’s a foot away. You frown at his changed scent missing his old one.

“Jay-“ before you can even finish you’re pressed against the door the wind knocked out of you, your arms pinned above your head and hot breath on your neck. You’re frozen in fear never having had him be this rough or physical before he always gave the best hugs but he wasn’t an overly touchy person. He’s panting harshly and he’s overly warm almost feverish as his hands grip your wrists tightly and his head rests by your neck. He’s too close but not close enough your omega senses already haywire from coming off suppressants. He lifts his head up eyes hard and narrowed as he stares at you before something flicks on them. Recognition? Realisation? You don’t know but his eyes soften his hands loosen and his shoulders drop as tears well in his eyes and he mutters your name. Relief floods you like tidal wave and you almost want to cry too as Jayce lets your wrists go wraps his arms around your waist and presses himself impossibly close. His face is buried in your neck and you wrap your arms around his neck crying silently. He breathes heavily as he cry’s his strong arms tight around your waist like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re ok” you whisper taking a shaky breath, hand brushing against his neck and through his long hair. He shakes his head and you frown trying to pull back but he doesn’t let go holding you tighter instead.

“Jayce- I can’t breathe” you say and he relaxes his arms but doesn’t let go you take in a breath just running your fingers over the base of his skull and down his neck and back up. He twitches sometimes and it makes you worry but after a while he lets go wiped his eyes and looks at you. You watch though as something glazes in his eyes like a shade and he’s tense and on edge again jaw clenched and he glares and snarls storming away from you. You stare in confusion as the alpha sits down and stares at the ceiling again, the door buzzes and unlocks and you slip out still confused.

“What was that?” You ask the medical officer.

“Something happened to him, made him feral” she says.

“Feral?” You say shocked there’s hardly been any feral alphas in the upper city.

“This is the first time he’s been out of it” she comments tapping on her holotablet.

“How do we get him back?” You ask frowning.

“It’s a hard process, we can try the subtle way or the medical way” she comments.

“Subtle way?” You ask.

“We coax him out by doing daily things, normal things, trying to reteach him I guess you could say, you’d be our main candidate for him to see” she explains.

“And the medical way?” You whisper.

“We operate on him, send electrical currents to rewrite his brain” she says like it’s no big deal and you flinch but nod.

“Subtle way, has his mother been by?” You ask.

“Yes” she says simply and you figure you won’t get much more than that from her as you nod, thank her and leave the facility. You walk to Ms Talis home knock on the door you haven’t spoken to her in a while.

“Oh” she says as she opens the door seeing you saying your name before urging you inside. She makes you tea and you both sit down at the table.

“I saw Jayce today” you say quietly unsure of how to step. A deep sadness etched her features and she nods.

“How is he?” She asks.

“He recognised me” you whisper and she jolts and looks to you.

“I went into the room today, it was brief for five minutes he didn’t say anything though before he went back-“ you hate saying the word feral, such a barbaric term. You watch as Jayces mums eyes fill with tears and you give her hand a comforting squeeze.

“We’ll get your boy back Ms Talis” you whisper to her in promise.

Next Part ->

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 10 - Smoke and Mirrors

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 7.4k words. People are hiding some very big secrets... if that's not obvious already...

CW: MDNI +18 explicit content a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (scenting, heats), vomit, throwing up, Non-consensual drugging, mentions of past abuse, smut, masturbation, brief mentions of blood, angst, assault.

AN: Can you tell I'm bad at summaries?

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

You’re in the lab. It’s early again. It’s getting exhausting. Today you were here even earlier than normal though. It’s about to be the weekend which means staff come in earlier to make sure they’ve got everything done before they go home. Dr. Miller seems tired too. He has late nights in the lab and early mornings with you. You’re pretty sure he’s looking forward to a break too.

“Here,” he says, sitting down in front of you with a plastic cup of what looks like water. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck.

“What is it?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat away. 

“It’s going to stop your body from producing your omega scent. Or at least that's the idea,” he says, shrugging and writing something down on his clipboard. He watches out the corner of his eye as you drink the solution. It doesn’t taste of anything. 

“So what now?” you ask. 

“Nothing. We’ll come back in the evening. I'll take some blood, and we’ll see if it worked or not.” You nod standing up off the stool. You’re overwhelmed with dizziness. Your hand goes to the back of your neck. Why does this feel so familiar, it’s like déjà-vu. 

“It’s okay.” Dr. Miller's hands rest on your shoulders. “It’s easier this way. You won’t remember anything.” You try to turn but you can’t. Black spots appear in your vision as your body slumps against him. You feel sick as he guides your body to the floor. Then everything goes black. 

You wake in pain, stiff and cold as you look around the room. You’re in the medical room again. You hop off the bed and pain travels up your side. You pull your shirt up to see if there is anything there. Nothing. You walk to the door, your head spinning. You make it to the steps, still aching.

What happened?

Maybe you passed out again. You’ve been feeling weird lately, tired and strangely weak. It’s been days since your heat ended, you should be feeling fine. More than fine. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Dr. Miller makes you jump as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. You turn to him not knowing quite what to say. 

“I’m worried about you not eating properly. This is the second time I've tried to take blood and you’ve passed out,” he says. He looks worried. “Maybe I should talk to Dr. Piper about getting some tests done.”

“No,” you say quickly, holding your hands up. “She already has so much to worry about, I'm fine. I just haven’t been sleeping well and I should eat more.”  

“Okay,” he sighs, but you can tell he’s not happy about it, shaking his head as he sits back down on a stool. You rub the back of your head as you walk to the door. You’re being a bad omega. You need to take better care of yourself.

You don’t need Dr. Piper to worry. She needs to focus on the cure. You walk into the cold morning air. It’s so cold that you can see your own breath. You’ve never seen that before. It makes you smile as you pull your arms around you, crossing the green. 

The sun has just come up in the sky bursting through the clouds in shades of pink and orange. You take a second to enjoy it before walking into the barracks. 

“Been for a walk?” Simon asks. He’s in the kitchen by the kettle again. You smile and nod at him. 

“You shouldn’t be going out so early, especially now that it’s getting colder. You’ll catch a cold,” Dr. Piper says, still in her PJ’s, almost bullying Simon out the way so she can reach the coffee machine. You nod, walking in and closing the door behind you. 

“Cup of tea?” Simon asks. You look up at him shocked that he's asking you. You don’t think he’s ever asked you before. You open your mouth to say yes then you’re hit with a wave of nausea. Your hand flies to your stomach and you swallow the saliva filling your mouth. 

“Are you okay?” Dr. Piper frowns at you. You go to nod but panic rises in you and before you know it you’re sprinting into the bathroom. The first toilet you see you throw yourself over heaving into the bowl. You hear Dr. Piper come in behind you, her scent strong in the air as she grabs your hair pulling it out your face. Your head is throbbing as you continue to vomit until there is nothing left but bile. Dr. Piper rubs your back as quiet sobs leave your throat.

“You’re okay, deep breaths,” she says. You wait until you’re sure you’re not going to be sick anymore and then sit down, sweat dripping down your face. You see Simon in the doorway, and you feel heat running to your cheeks. Dr. Piper turns to take a glass of water from his hands.

“Want me to get Price?” he asks. 

“No,” she says before you even have time to shake your head or reply. She passes you the glass of water and you use it to swill your mouth out. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead.

“Fine,” you say, the adrenaline fading from your system making you feel tired. Dr. Piper hums. 

“What did you have to eat yesterday?” she asks. You try to think. There was the pudding that you didn’t like, but Johnny ate like 3 of them and he’s fine. You hope. 

“I can’t remember,” you say. She sighs standing up and offering you her hand. You take it standing up. Your head is still spinning. When you walk out to the common room you can see Johnny is up now sat at the table with Simon. You smile at him as Dr. Piper leads you to your room. She helps you change and get into bed. You want to tell her you’re fine, you’re capable of doing this yourself but you have a feeling she wouldn’t have it. 

You let her do what she needs to do, leaving the room quickly while you’re getting comfortable in bed, she comes back with a glass of water. 

“I promise if there is anything bothering you, or anything going on you can tell me. Or tell John, tell your alpha.” She’s looking at you like she’s pleading with you. You don’t know what to say. Should you tell her about passing out after you had blood taken? Maybe you’re sick and that’s what's happening. 

You look at her worried face. You don’t need to give her more to worry about. 

“I know, I’m okay though. I think I must have eaten something,” you say. She sighs. You can tell she doesn’t quite believe you, but she doesn’t push you any further, just turning to leave the room. 

“Get some rest. I’ll come and check on you later,” she says, closing the door behind her. You take a deep breath in closing your eyes. You just hope you’re right and it is something you ate. 

You’re in the lab. You’ve been dreaming about the lab a lot recently. You’re with Dr. Miller again, and he’s making you smell q-tips. 

“What about this one?” he asks, shoving a q-tip under your nose. It doesn’t smell of anything, only when you look down it’s not a q-tip any more. It’s a cloth, the next thing you know the cloth is being pushed into your nose and mouth. He wraps his arm around your face and everything goes black. 

You wake strapped to the exam bed in the medical room. You see Dr. Miller with a scalpel in his hand just like before. The room is dark, and he’s wearing a surgical mask. You look down and you’re shirtless, you feel embarrassed being so exposed. There’s pen markings on your body. You start to panic as Dr. Miller moves to the side of you. You fight the restraints but it just feels like they get tighter making your hands and feet go numb. 

“It’s okay, it’s easier this way,” he says. His voice sounds harsh in your ears. You can see him smiling under the mask. He brings the scalpel down as you try to wriggle away. Pain shoots up your side, a burn worse than anything you’ve ever felt before. You scream and thrash. Dr. Miller brings the scalpel to your face. It’s dripping in blood, your blood. You feel sick. 

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” he spits through gritted teeth, his alpha strong in the air. You can only follow his instructions; you're in too much pain, too tired to fight. Before you know it black spots appear in your vision. Your last thought is about how much you let John down. Then everything goes black. 

Dr. Piper's mind is preoccupied as she reads through the email she has written up. She’s supposed to be sending it to Professor Hale, breakdowns of everything she’s been working on and the results. It’s the first contact she’s had with him since she left the base.

She wants to lie. She so badly wants to fake everything, but she wasn’t in the mood for the consequences. Her mouse is hovering over the send button at the top of the email. She just can’t bring herself to do it.

She has too much to worry about, the cure, her lab being bugged, and now there is something going on with the omega. 

“Working late?” Simon’s voice reverberates in the silence making Dr. Piper jump up in her seat, a yelp leaving her throat.

“Christ Simon. What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice coming across more hostile than she means it too. He walks into her office, closing the door behind him. He leans against the wall crossing his arms. 

“How is she?” he asks. She knows he’s talking about you.

“She’s fine. It could just be stress, it could be a lot of things. Kyle and Johnny have been keeping her busy,” she says, running her hand through her hair. 

“Are you worried?” he asks. 

“About what?” 

“The omega. The bugs,” he says, shrugging. She looks at him shocked. He knows about the bugs. Of course he knows about the bugs. He’s John’s lieutenant after all. Panic rises in her and she looks around the room almost wanting to shush him.

“Don’t worry this room is clear,” he says. She lets out a sigh, relaxing into the chair, a little smile on her lips. John already told her they weren't going to look for the bugs. Simon went out his way to clear this room. 

“I’m not worried about her. She has a strong pack around her,” she says looking back at the email. She should just send it. She’s being stupid. 

“What are you working on?” he asks, moving over to her desk. 

“Nothing, it’s stupid. It’s everything I needed to send to Professor Hale.” He looks over at the email. He hums reaching over her and clicking the mouse, pressing send. There’s a swoop and the page changes.

“Simon!” Piper pushes him out the way, clicking her sent box. Why was she panicking? She's been procrastinating all day, reading it at least a hundred times. 

“I wish I had the option to never speak to Hale again,” she says, huffing and leaning back in the chair.

“Yeah, well he never tortured you all his life did he,” he says as he leans back on the wall. That one stung. She sighs, shaking her head and crossing her arms. 

“Are you ever going to forgive me?” she asks, looking straight in his eyes.

“Why do you need my forgiveness?” 

“I don’t know, maybe I’m a narcissist.” There’s bitterness in her voice.

“Yeah well. We’re all a little bit selfish,” Simon says, looking at her. She sighs, opening her arms back up. She’s not supposed to be arguing with him. 

“Price wants her to help with a training exercise tomorrow. Think she’ll be up for it?” he asks. 

“More scenting stuff?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. He nods. “She should be fine.” 

“Do you think she’s in danger?” Simon asks her. She can hear the concern in his voice, and she can hear something else too. If she didn’t know him, she would think it was fear.

“I think she has a strong pack around her,” she repeats, it’s not up to her to say. 

“Would you give your life for her?” he asks. 

“Of course,” she says without hesitating, hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Why is he asking this? Has something changed? He’s not saying anything, maybe he’s trying to see if she’s lying or not. 

“Do you think she’s in danger?” she asks, making sure her voice doesn’t falter. He stands up from the wall turning to look at her.

“You said once that she will never be safe until Professor Hale is dead. Now he’s breathing down our necks. It’s the closest he’s been since we rescued her,” he says. She gets it now. John doesn’t think there’s any danger, but Simon disagrees. 

“She has 4 SAS soldiers around her almost 24/7. Hale doesn’t stand a chance.” She smiles hoping it will reassure him. Of course you will never be safe until Hale is dead, but rifts in the pack are just as dangerous. If you think you can’t trust them, if things start drifting apart, if they start drifting apart it could be devastating.

“How do you feel? Now the omega’s been claimed,” she asks.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s Price’s omega now.” He turns like he’s going to leave.

“Simon,” she sighs. He stops turning his head slightly. “We can look into other things, maybe even double claiming. It’s never been done but it could be possible.” 

“She trusts Price—” 

“She trusts you all. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself. You’re important to her too,” Piper interrupts him, getting up out of her chair. She lets out a sigh. He’s closing up again. He doesn’t need to. He’s still standing there. 

“You saved her life, you’re part of her pack. It won’t take much. Talk to her.” 

“She’s John’s omega,” he repeats and reaches for the door handle.

“She’s your omega too,” she tries but she watches as he presses down on the door handle leaving the room. She waits listening for the door to the lab to close before letting out a breath and sitting down. Maybe two alphas in a pack couldn’t work. No . For your sake at least they have to make it work.

You were happy when the next morning John asked if you would help with a training exercise. You assume it was going to be more scent training but instead he leads you to an empty barracks building. John tells everyone to wait as he takes you through into the building.

You go upstairs into one of the furthest rooms and see a chair set up in the middle of the floor. It makes your breath catch in your throat, in the dark it looks intimidating. John turns on a light and you can see what looks like bombs round the bottom of the chair. At the back of the room there’s a table with a laptop.

“It’s not real is it?” you ask. John chuckles, shaking his head. He walks into the room. 

“Now you can say no, but I would really like to try something. I want to push them to make sure they can act under pressure.” You nod following him as he gestures for you to sit down in the chair. 

“I want you to be scared, or more make them think you’re scared. Can you project a scared scent?” You watch as he walks back in front of you with zip ties in his hands. That alone makes you nervous enough.

“I can try,” you say. 

“Good girl. Let's have a safeword. I’ll be watching, if you need to stop for whatever reason you say that word and it’ll stop, understand?” he asks, you nod. 

“Purple,” he says.

“Purple,” you repeat. He nods, smiling at you. 

“I’ll tie you up now. Don’t worry, it won’t be tight. It’s just important that it's realistic.” You nod as he bends down, tying your ankles up to the chair legs. Panic seems to rise in you even though you know it's fake. That's good though, the more you actually panic the easier it will be to project a realistic scent of fear. John stands up going behind you. He takes your arms gently tying your wrists together, then against the chair. It’s uncomfortable but that's the point. He walks back round into the doorway. 

“Ready?” he asks. You nod at him. He hits the lightswitch in the room leaving you in the dark and closing the door. 

You’re alone in the dark with your arms and legs tied. It’s all too familiar to what you’ve been through before. You remember the times in the bunker when you would be tied to a chair like this. Normally it was because you were misbehaving. You would be left in the chair, force fed, tortured. This position always reminds you of water, and you’re not quite sure why.

The dark, the memories. It all feels a little too real. You hold on to that feeling, letting the fear wash over you projecting it out into the air. It feels like you’ve been sitting for ages. A shiver runs up your spine. You don’t like this. Maybe they’ve forgotten about you, maybe this was a test for you? More panic rises as you try to keep your breathing steady. Sweat is building up on your body. You can’t even hear them. If they were close you would be able to hear them. 

Maybe they have forgotten about you. 

You swallow hard, moving your legs and hands. The zip ties seem tighter all of a sudden. John said he was only doing them loose. You can’t get out of these. You can smell your own fear in the room now. Your eyes fully adjust to the dark but you can’t see much. The room is pretty empty other than the fake bombs at your feet that have been beeping louder and faster. 

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath.

“ It’s not real, it’s not real ,” you whisper to yourself. You hear noises, they sound distant. You squeeze your eyes closed tighter trying to focus on the noises. Is it them? Your mind goes to Dr. Miller for some reason, why did your mind go to him? It comes in flashes, and there’s a stabbing pain in the back of your neck. You want to move your hands to rub it but you can't. You start to squirm all of a sudden. It's real fear running through you now. You don’t know who’s coming through the door but you know it’s no one good. 

There’s a bang, your eyes fly open and you stop struggling. There is definitely someone close. You’re holding your breath listening to the voices, but in your panic you don’t recognize them. It could be anyone. 

The door crashes open. Light from the hallway floods in. You look away, blinking from the sudden change in brightness. You’re shaking, and it's real fear. The light in the room comes on and you see Johnny, Simon and Kyle spill in. 

“Hey lass, what’ve you been getting up to?” Johnny asks, smiling as he lets his weapon fall from his hands. You want to relax but you can't. You look at John leaning in the doorway, his gaze low. His nostrils flare as he breathes in your fear. Johnny’s cutting the ties round your ankles. You hear Kyle typing on the laptop behind you. 

“Hey Soap, check this out,” he says. Johnny gets up off the floor, his fingers quickly running over the fake bombs by your feet. The ones you swear have gotten louder with all the passing time. Johnny moves leaving your hands still tied. You look at Simon who looks more intimidating in his full black uniform and mask. You keep forgetting to ask him why he wears the mask. Right now you don’t care, you just want to get out of this situation. 

You look in his eyes, dark and moody, burning into you. His body seems more tense than usual. You look at the massive weapon in his hands, his finger resting by the trigger. Surely that’s fake too. 

“Hey lass, so we need you to stay nice and still okay?” Johnny says as he comes back round to stand in front of you taking what you assume are wire cutters out his vest. His tone and phrasing makes you freeze, you nod your mouth hanging open. He bends down to the floor looking round the fake bombs. 

“What's going on?” you ask. You don’t like how quiet Johnny has gone and you’re too scared to move. 

“Oh nothing, you’re just sitting on the trigger,” Johnny says, looking over at you still smiling. You look up at John in the doorway. You don’t remember seeing anything on the chair. For a second you forget the bombs aren't real, right now this feels real. Your fear is real. 

“Hey,” Johnny says, pulling your attention back to him. “It’s gonna be fine.” You don’t know what to do, you just stay still. You see Simon move to walk behind you. You almost follow him until you remember you were told not to move. 

“Do this a lot?” you ask, trying and failing to hide the shakiness in your voice. Your eyes fall back to John who’s stood up straight in the doorway now, his arms crossed, eyes flicking round the room. It makes goosebumps rise on the back of your neck. This will be tough for him too, his omega in fear.

“Abso-bloody-lutely!” Johnny chimes. That makes you relax a little. How can he still be so happy-go-lucky right now? You wonder if it’s because he knows it’s fake. Or maybe he is like this all the time. You try to watch him working. Every now and then he looks back up at you smiling. 

“Soap!” Kyle says. Suddenly the beeping gets faster. 

“What did you do?” Simon’s voice calls from behind you, and there’s an edge in his voice. You’re holding your breath. Something is wrong. Even a second of panic washes over Johnny as he looks over at Kyle who has come to help him now. They’re both talking to each other making their way round the chair. 

“60 seconds,” Simon says. You hear Johnny curse under his breath. You swallow hard. 

“Triggers on a delay,” you hear Kyle say next. Johnny looks at him quickly then back at you. 

“ Christ , this whole thing is a mess, what amateur set this up?” Johnny asks quickly.

“30 Seconds,” Simon says. Your heart is thumping so hard in your chest you can hear it in your ears. You look up at John. You can’t tell if his expression has changed as he’s watching them work. His arms still crossed, shoulders tight. 

“15,” Simon says, and the smell of fear hits you hard and fast. That’s not your fear. You look down at Johnny. 

“10.” You’re counting in your head, it feels like the seconds are going quicker. 

“Got it! Got it!” Johnny says pulling something up off the floor, a seconds later the beeping whines and stops. 

“Could you have cut that any closer?” Kyle lets out a sigh standing up. You watch as Johnny smiles at him, winking and putting the wire cutters back on his vest. You’re still holding your breath as you feel Simon cut the ties behind your back. Your arms swing by your side. Your body is shaking. You bring one of your wrists up rubbing it. 

“I’m telling you, whoever made this is an amateur,” Johnny says looking round. 

“Save it for the report,” Simon says walking back around to your view. 

“C’mon lass, let's get you out of here.” Johnny throws his weapon over his shoulder and offers you his hand and you take it. You step over the mess of fake bombs on the floor. Before you can make it to the door you feel Johnny scoop you up by your knees and back, picking you up in his arms. 

“Johnny!” you yelp, giggling as he presses you uncomfortably against his chest. Last time you were held like this, Kyle was carrying you out of the bunker. 

"Pretty hostages get the princess treatment,” he says. You giggle, heat running to your cheeks as he carries you down the hallway. 

“What about everyone else?” you tease him. 

“They get thrown over LT’s shoulder,” Johnny replies. You look over his shoulder at Simon talking with John as Kyle walks behind you. Kyle smiles at you as Johnny puts you down just before the end of the hallway. You look down the hall. John and Simon are still talking. 

“Did I make a good hostage?” you ask. The smile seems to fade from Johnny’s face. Kyle too. Maybe that's not something you should be asking. Before Johnny could respond, John calls over to you all. Everyone turns, walking back down the hall. 

“Good job, I want full reports,” John says. You hear Johnny sigh as Simon crosses his arms. You tune out their protesting. John catches your eye, and there’s something on his face, something you’ve never seen before. Maybe you didn’t do a good enough job. It makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You go back to listening to Johnny and Kyle. 

“Any questions?” John says finally wrapping up the conversation. 

“Who set the bombs?” Johnny asks.

“Some demo guy from Shadow Company.” Price says.

“Ah that explains it,” Johnny says, nudging you.

“Put it in the report MacTavish,” Simon says, nodding behind him. Johnny chuckles and follows Simon to the end of the hallaway. You go to follow after them but John grabs your arm. You stop looking up at him. He pulls you into the room, maybe a little too hard, closing the door behind you. He bends down in front of you placing his hands on your shoulders.

“You okay?” he asks, his eyes wide. He looks scared. His breathing picks up as he looks around your face. You frown at him, and you nod your mouth feeling suddenly dry. 

“Say it, I need to hear you say it.” 

“I’m okay John, I’m okay.” 

He nods letting go of your shoulders. It’s fear you see in his eyes. You can smell it in the air too, fear and worry. You throw yourself at him squeezing him as hard as you can. His arms wrap around you and you breathe in his scent, projecting yours for him. You can hear his heart pounding in his chest. He’s scared . You’ve never seen him scared before. He kisses the top of your head, and you break away from the embrace. 

“Go catch up with the others. Keep them company while they write their reports,” he says. He seems to have calmed down now. His thumb brushes your cheek, and you smile back at him, nodding. You go to leave the room, quickly looking back to see him take his hat off running his hand through his hair. Maybe he’s the one who needs to do some training. He kept it together though, all the way to the end. 

You make your way down to the hall the same way you remember watching everyone leave a few seconds earlier. The door to the stairwell is open and you walk down the first set of the stairs when you hear it. It sounds like someone breathing heavily, exacerbated almost like they’re struggling to breathe. You slow down, holding your breath. You peek around the next set of steps and you see Simon.

He’s stood in the stairwell, his back to you bracing himself on the banister. His breathing is heavy, his back bobbing up and down as he tries to get a lungful of air. You can smell him in the air, his alpha strong and something else.

Fear.

You step around the corner, swallowing your nerves. You take another step down, before you make another step he turns around. The bottom of his mask is pulled up over his nose and mouth. You freeze, swallowing the lump in your throat. It feels like the seconds are lasting for hours. Your knuckles go white as you grip the banister.

“I’m okay Simon,” you say. You can't falter now, you need to be confident. He looks at you as you take another step down. Maybe he’ll flee, but he hasn’t yet. He’s standing there. His eyes are soft, kind. You take another step and reach out for him, and you expect him to flinch, to back up. He doesn’t. He reaches out for your hand, his gloved fingers touching yours. You smile at him, lacing your fingers between his. 

“I’m okay,” you say. He takes a step towards you, his eyes scanning round your face. Your heart is thumping in your chest. You let him squeeze your hand. You want to hug him and tell him it’s all okay. Maybe John pushed them too far. The betas would be fine but alphas smelling your fear—it’s hard on both of them. They’re your pack. You should have gone easier on them. 

Simon lets out a long breath, letting go of your hand. He reaches up and pulls his mask down. He turns to walk away.

“Simon, wait,” you call, jumping down to the stairwell with him. You don’t know what to say, and you feel like anything you say he wouldn’t listen to. You just go up to him, throwing your arms around him from behind. He waits a few seconds before he turns around and you drop your arms. His hands land on your shoulders just like John had done before, holding you at arms length.

“You’re John’s omega,” he says as a matter of fact. 

“You’re my alpha too,” you say back to him. You mean it. He’s your pack. Who says you can’t have 2 alphas?

“John claimed you,” he says.

“You’re part of the pack, that makes you as much of my alpha as John.” He lets his hands drop from you. There's a pause, silence, his brown eyes burning into you.

“I can’t,” he says, turning to leave, shaking his head. You feel sad. You don’t know what you could have done differently. You wait until you’ve watched him make it through the door at the bottom of the stairs. You feel tears rolling down your cheeks. You sit down on the bottom step throwing your head in your hands sobbing. 

You’ve ruined it. You’ve messed it all up and now he’s going to want to have nothing to do with you. You hear John come down the steps. He sits down next to you pulling you into his arms. He’s not asking what's wrong or what happened. He must have been listening. 

“It’s okay,” he says, kissing the top of your head. 

“I tried,” you say between sobs. 

“I know, you did good,” he says, holding you close. Pack bonds are fragile things. You’ve always been told that. It’s your job as an omega to keep the bonds secure. If you can’t do that, Simon could break away from the pack. You don’t want that. You have to do better. But now you’ve messed it all up. 

Everytime you think you’re making progress with Simon he turns away. Maybe he really does hate you. Maybe the pack would be better without him. You break from John’s embrace looking up at him as he rubs the tears away with his thumb. 

You have to make it work, for the sake of the pack.

When you get back to the barracks it’s dark. When you walk in, the building is empty, so you walk down to your room. Everyone’s doors are locked. John goes into his office. You don’t know what you want to do. You feel drained when you step into your room. You don’t want to be in your nest, you don’t want to sleep. You turn back out the room, closing the door. 

You walk up to John’s office knocking on the door. You wait for him to call you in before entering. He smiles when he sees you. 

“Can I sit in here?” you ask. He leans back in his chair nodding then gets up. He picks up a folder then moves to sit down on the tiny sofa in his office. You smile crawling up onto the sofa leaning into his shoulder. He leans back resting the folder on his thighs.

“What’s that?” you ask. 

“Final report from the mission. I need to check it over before I give it to Shepherd.” You look down at it. You don’t know what any of it means and you’re probably not even supposed to be seeing it. 

“You know, Professor Hale used to make me lay on his lap when he was working.” You look up at John. 

“Is that something you want to do?” he asks, looking down at you. You sit up on your knees. He’s giving you a choice. You haven’t even done it for the Professor in a long while. At the thought of it though there’s something warm building up inside you. You nod. He smiles, moving the folder out of the way. You lay down facing away from him, your head resting on his thighs. 

He has strong thighs, you can feel them under your head. That warmth bubbles up inside you and you relax as his hand comes to stroke your head. He tucks your hair behind your ear and you close your eyes, breathing in his scent letting it relax you. 

After a few minutes you hear a relaxed hum leave his throat as he flicks through the file. You smile. You’re making him happy, being a good omega for him. Your body feels warm and relaxed. With his hand running through your hair, you’re almost purring at the feeling. His hand moves down the back of your head over the base of your skull before he stops. You open your eyes.

“You can touch it, if you want. It’s your mark,” you say, keeping as still as possible so you don’t spook him. His hand stops for a few seconds as he thinks about it. He moves his hand to your ear so he can pull your hair out the way revealing the back of your neck. You stay nice and relaxed for him so he knows it’s okay as his fingers brush over the indents in the skin. He takes his time, gentle as he follows the mark all the way around. 

“Beautiful,” he says. 

It’s like something snaps in your brain. Beautiful. Memories come flooding back. Dr. Miller, the cups of, something. Pain pulses through your body, you remember your body on the lab floor, Dr. Miller's voice in your ear. His words are ringing in your head. 

‘It didn’t have to be like this’

‘It’s easier this way. You won’t remember anything’

You thought it was a dream. You thought it was your mind playing tricks. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth, it makes you feel sick.

You sit back up knocking the file out John’s hand. Your hand goes to the back of your neck. You’re trying so hard to focus on the memories flashing into your mind. 

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” he asks. You look over at him swallowing. 

“No, it’s not you,” you say getting up off the sofa. He sits up straight watching you as you continue to rub the back of your neck. 

“I forgot I have to go do something quickly,” you say heading for the door. Your hand is shaking as you press the door handle. You look back at John. He's frowning at you as he reaches down to pick up the file.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I promise,” you say. You go out quickly dropping your hand from the back of your neck closing the door behind you. You head for the lab. You want to see Dr. Miller. He drugged you. You thought it was just dreams. It feels so real. You feel sick, you trusted him.

You need him to tell you it’s not true and that you’re making it all up. There’s no way he would hurt you. You trust him. He’s working on the cure. You can’t ignore the feeling though, the dreams you’ve been having over the past few days. They’re not dreams, they're memories. 

You’re shaking as you walk into the lab. You don’t know what you’re going to do, or what you’re going to say. Maybe you should have spoken to Dr.Piper first. What if she didn’t believe you? You need to do this. You want proof. Dr. Miller is sitting at a table watching you walk over to him. He smiles but you keep your distance. You swallow your nerves. 

You trusted him, and now his smile sends shivers up your spine

“What’s up?” he asks, looking up from his work giving you his full attention. 

“I keep having these dreams,” you say, trying not to sound shaky. You’re focusing almost all your attention on controlling your scent. 

“Sleeping pills not working?” he asks confused, leaning back on his stool. 

“Sometimes I come here and I feel like I lose hours of time. I wake up upstairs and I don’t know what happened,” you explain. He straightens up in his stool. 

“I’ve always told you what’s happened,” he says, looking confused. 

“I just want the truth, I have dreams about you, and it feels so real. Almost like they’re memories.” You rub the back of your neck as he stands up. You don’t like how he’s coming towards you, his alpha strong in the air. It makes goosebumps rise on the back of your neck. You want John. Coming alone was definitely a bad idea.

“I wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself and to tell you I can’t help you anymore,” you say. He smiles at you but instead of calming you it makes you feel sick. 

“And I’m telling Dr. Piper,” you say quickly backing up. You hit a table. This is as far back as you can go. The door is just slightly to your left. You would have to turn to open it though. 

“Dreams don’t mean anything,” he says. He’s about a foot away from you when he stops. His scent is overwhelming, and fear rises in you. This was a stupid idea and now you’re trapped. 

“Dr. Miller, you’re scaring me,” you say, trying to hold back the fear burning inside of you. Your fight or flight has kicked in and you’re choosing to flee. 

“Sorry,” he says with the last step towards you. You don’t even realise he’s reaching for your arm until it’s too late. Panic bubbles up and you take a sharp breath in when his hand makes contact with your skin. Your body turns without you thinking and now you’re attempting to head for the door. He’s stronger than you though, pulling you to him. 

You stumble on your feet crying out as he pulls you against him. His arm drops round your stomach as he pulls you up off the floor dragging you backwards. You scream and kick, fighting him as much as you can. It’s pointless though: he’s way bigger and stronger than you. He picks something up off the table and a second later you feel a sharp pain as a needle plunges into your neck. 

A few seconds later a burn rises inside you. You scream, your vision going blurry, there’s a pulsing in your body. All you can smell is alpha then honey. Your head is spinning as he lets you go. Your hand comes up to the back of your neck. 

You feel like you’re floating, bumping into a table, tripping over a stool. There’s throbbing between your legs, a pain in your core. You only want one thing John. You need John. You blink away the fuzziness. Looking around, you see that you’re in the lab. You can’t remember what you needed.

You don’t care. You need John, you need your alpha. You force your body to open the door, stumbling down the steps. The cold air hits your skin, making you dizzy. You don’t know which way you’re going, you just follow the smell of alpha. You’re sure he’s nearby. 

“John!” you call out for him. Your vision is going blurry again. There’s pain burning in your core, your pussy throbbing as slick soaks your underwear. Your clothes are irritating your skin, brushing past your rock hard nipples. You want to pull your clothes off but it’s too cold. Your body meets a door. You’re not sure where you are but you push down on the handle stumbling in. You stumble, you don’t have time to put your arms out to break the fall and your head slams into the floor painfully. 

“Christ love!” You hear voices. You can smell beta. There are hands pulling you up off the floor. You try to look up at who’s holding you but you just whine instead. The skin to skin contact feels like burning. It sends vibrations through your body. 

“Alpha,” you call as you’re picked up. You hear someone calling for Dr. Piper. You can smell alpha now, it’s strong in the air. You reach out trying to find him in your haze, your eyes darting at the blurry figures around you. You feel cold hands on your face and you wince at the temperature difference. Your name is called, then again, someone pulls your face to look at them. 

“Who did this?” It’s Dr. Piper, she's the one with her hands on your face. It sounds like her words are echoing in your ears. You have a moment of clarity. You were in the lab, what were you doing in the lab? 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” That’s John’s voice, you whine reaching out for him again. Whoever is holding you keeps you in his arms as the cold hands leave your face. 

“She’s in heat. Someone forced her heat.” You breathe in John’s scent as you see him come over to you. His hand brushes your cheek. 

“Alpha,” you whine trying to grab him, touch him. 

“Take her to my room. And someone tell me where the bloody hell Riley is!” His shout makes you stop whining. You protest as you’re taken away into another room. The next thing you know you’re placed down on a bed. The figure leaves as the burning comes back to your skin. You want to claw it off. 

Fire in your veins, pain in your chest. Your body is covered in slick and sweat. You’re clawing your clothes off as you dribble over the pillow caked in John’s scent. 

“John…” You breathe, thrusting your fingers into your sore cunt trying to quell the growing pain. It feels like someone has rubbed chilly all over your pulsating body.  

Raw and sticky you roll over in the bed, arching your back as you grind down on your hand, trying anything to feel friction between your legs.

“Alpha...” you whine as your vision fades, clenching down on your fingers, only giving you a few seconds of relief. You need to cum, you need relief. You’re thrusting your fingers in and out curling them up to hit the rough spot inside you. Your palm grinds on your swollen clit. It’s not enough. You need more. You whine in frustration as your other hand cups around your breast pinching your nipple. 

You moan out, John’s name on your lips as you chase the high, grinding harder, your hand becoming soaked in your slick. You press your fingers in harder, your palm rubbing as hard as you can. Your body is sensitive but you need an alpha, your own hands are not enough. Your body starts to shake as you get closer to the edge. You know it’s not going to be enough but you will take anything right now. 

You cum chewing on the bottom of your lip as you moan out, your body going rigid, your back arching. You taste blood in your mouth as you come down from the orgasm, your lip throbbing from the pain of breaking the skin.

You let out a sob as your body relaxes. It’s not enough, none of it is enough. Your breathing picks up again as black spots fade into your vision. You’re going to be too out of it soon. You roll over in the bed sinking your nose into John’s pillow. You breathe in his scent, and it makes your head spin. You call out for him one more time but no one comes. 

A few seconds later the burn comes back.

Next

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui Beta reader and editor - rememberwren

[winterspiderpurrs]

In Vitro

Parker luck was at it again. After years of bad dates, breakups and just not lucky in love. Peter meets Tony Stark.

He accidentally ran into him when he was dropping off lunch for his Aunt at the hospital.

" Oh my gosh! I am SO sorry sir. I... your...Tony Stark? "

After Peter apologized a few more times, he offers to replace the coffee that he accidentally knocked out of Tony's hands when they collided. He didn't expect him to accept.

Tony apparently, had heard his speech about his research proposal a few months back; at that time. While Stark Industries doesn't do much in the way of the medical field. 'Not in my wheel house and not wanting to step on toes', a comment that Peter didn't quiet get. He was interested to know if anyone has offered him a grant or had taken him on.

While people loved his idea, when they hear it from a 22 year old Omega. Well. People tend to brush it off. So Peter had only gotten a job recently at the hospital where they had run into each other. A receptionist job, Aunt May(Beta) was able to pull a few strings.

After that, they started to met up at coffee shops, then inviting Peter to the lab to see what other ' ideas are tinkering around in there'. Tony didn't CARE that he was an Omega, he valued his brain, and if he didn't have a crush on him before, he definitely did after that.

With in a few weeks, Tony asked Peter to dinner. And the rest would be history. Except, when Peter asked about them seeing if they should live together after about a year of dating. With Tony's busy schedule, it would be easier, Tony like that idea, but said he wanted to be slightly traditional.

"Let's do things the proper way Gioia Mia, lets get engaged first. And then once we are finally bonded, we can get our own place or move to my family home upstate"

In a society where Omega's are almost 2nd class citizens. When an 'Engagement' happens, the Omega must go in for testing. As it isn't FAIR to the Alpha to possibly be stuck with someone who cannot carry.

And THAT, is where the Parker Luck comes in. Just when Peter thinks he can FINALLY have it all. Well. The test results are in. They didn't say he COULDN'T have kids, just that he would have a very hard time getting there. And they recommend treatment.

" Don't worry Tesoro. Stephen will know how to fix this. Bastard is good at what he does, going to gloat probably, and we will make sure you can have the pups for us."

"I'm so sorry Tony...if you don't want to.. to see me anymore. I ... I can understand"

"Hey hey... its not your fault. Dry your tears. Your still Perfect Peter. Knew it the moment we spoke. This is just a bump in the road. We will make sure your ready when the time comes."

Phone rings.

"Dr. Stephen Strange's office, this is Mindy, how can I assist you today."

" Hey Mandy, can you patch me in to Stephen"

"Of course Mr. Stark! Right away, please hold while I transfer"

Click, stale music.

" This is Dr. Strange"

"Stephen, looks like we will be needing you expertise"

Stephen sighs could be heard from over the line.

" Of course you do. This the road your really want to go down now? Won't some.... other Omega do?"

"No no. Peter is it Stephen. We HAVE to make this work. You'll see once you meet him. Please as a favor to me. You know I don't like asking for favors. "

"Fine. I'll help"

"Grazie cuore mio"

"Your insufferable"

********************************************************************

Talked to @professional-benaddict about this idea after they got the ask and we decided we were inspired! And to take it on a wild spin of our own creation.

Link below of the original ask and response! ( which is quiet delish)

https://www.tumblr.com/professional-benaddict/781460953688686592/would-you-ever-consider-writing-ivf-into-a-blurb?source=share

[butterfly-stitches]

INSTINCT.

[ Explicit ] // MDNI

AO3

Pairings: Russell Adler x Bell, Frank Woods x Bell Ensemble: Russell Adler, Frank Woods, Alex Mason, Reader, Bell (Implied Fem!Bell), Helen A. Park, Eleazar "Lazar" Azoulay, Lawrence Sims, Jason Hudson

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse, Military Inaccuracies, Medical Inaccuracies, A/B/O Prejudice, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Medical Experimentation, Accidental Knotting, Knotting, Claiming Bites, Animal Instincts, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Scenting, Scent Marking, Older Man/Younger Woman, Hurt/Comfort, Mildly Dubious Consent, POV Second Person, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: Betrayed by your own and left for dead, you were captured and interrogated by the enemy. But you gave them nothing. Desperate times call for desperate measures as the saying went. And by it, the use of MK-Ultra. Melding you into something more manageable. Making you believe that you work alongside the CIA and have known Adler for many years. But what your capturers didn’t expect was the byproduct of transmutation in the after process of menticide. Turning you, an alpha, into an omega. Now Adler and the rest of the team must learn to adapt and adjust to an omega in their military pack. All while trying to stop the puppeteering machinations of a once dormant Soviet spy network led by a man, and your old pack alpha, known only as Perseus.

But having an omega on the team only makes things more complicated than necessary. Especially one so unpredictable and so fresh out of MK-Ultra. An alpha and an omega naturally gravitate towards each other like a binary black hole. And no one, not even a highly desensitized alpha like Adler, can deny their instincts forever.

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

Chapter 1: variable.

Words: 2,272 Summary: In which you are remolded …

“You’re sure?” 

Outside a bright white lab room, in a just as bright hallway, two figures watched from behind a one-way glass window. The tall one had a cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth, puffing away leisurely despite the building being a smoke-free area. It was well-ventilated enough was his reasoning, stress was another. But the woman next to him didn’t complain nor comment, being an avid smoker herself. 

Nonetheless, the woman beside him nodded at the question.

“I am.” 

The man inhaled, his cigarette glowing brighter at the end with his deep intake. The woman next to him’s answer slowly seeped in his head. It was a heavy thing to process. His fatigue-addled brain only made it harder for him to come to terms with it and the situation that would follow. 

Smoke fell from the man’s marred lips.

“Run those tests again.”

But the woman right beside him didn’t move, shifting the clipboard that she cradled in her arms instead. Pages and pages of test results from various trials, medical and psych evaluations, were fastened to it. But she didn’t need to look them over again to double check and verify what they all indicated. She knew.

“Already done — they all came to the same conclusion.”

The man next to her was silent once more. His cigarette burned idly between his fingers as a thin smoky thread swirled away from the smoldering end. The woman handed him the clipboard, giving him a glance here and there as he flipped through the pages meticulously. Cigarette clamped between his lips as he read through the results. But the man found that it was as she claimed it to be. The test results were indicating the same thing; the subject’s designation status had indeed regressed. 

Wordlessly, the man handed back the clipboard. Pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew out the smoke with a long exhale, processing it with a newfound clarity. Still staring into the windowed wall from behind his dark aviators. Eyes still dead set on the coroner gurney in the far center of the room.

An alpha turned omega…

Well, that definitely threw a wrench into the works. 

Such a phenomenon wasn't empirically impossible – just extremely rare; intermittent and indeterminable. An idiopathic etiology of menticide in theory. Although not unprecedented. Alex Mason, another hapless guinea pig of MK-Ultra, had suffered the same thing. Over time, throughout the process, Mason’s designation status had wholly changed too. At the flip of a switch, his biology had altered entirely in order to adapt to his new status. As well as the entire rewiring of an already broken brain. But Mason's biological transmutation had not been as drastic as the subject’s. Not as non-sequential; Having only turned from being an alpha to a beta. 

Even the man’s own brief employment with the Advanced Technologies and Applications program in Eastern Kentucky couldn’t replicate or even culminate such results in their human trials and experimentations. Yet he was used to things not all going according to plan, adapting and thinking on your feet was a part of the job. But this… this was more of a major setback than he preferred. Omegas only made things more complex than necessary.

“Adler?” The woman next to him lifted her thin brow at him as he brewed in his thoughts. Concerned by his prolonged silence. But his eyes didn't move to meet her inquisitive look. 

“This doesn’t change our mission.” He informed her. 

“Clearly,” She said, turning back around to view the bright room in front of them. Just like the older man next to her. “But it does make things quite difficult, however.”

Adler exhaled a smoky breath. And, after a moment, asked. “How do you think we should approach this then, Park?”

The woman next to him audibly hummed. Lips pursed in thought as her manicured fingernails drummed on the back of the clipboard. “Well, I suppose we still stick to the plan. With minor adjustments of course.”

“Minor adjustments?” 

Agent Park nodded. “And more precautions, yes. The subject will need a lot more necessities than before. More support, more monitoring. Omegas can be quite… ”

“Needy.” He finished her sentence. 

Park, in turn, gave Adler a look, sharp eyes narrowing. Sensing his surly mood. “ Sensitive . Omegas can easily go into distress if their needs aren’t met, especially if they can’t adjust to new territory. Let alone a new pack. No matter how temporary it will be.”

Adler went quiet again. Half cigarette burned idly between his fingers. He felt the fatigue weigh down on him even more now. The caffeinated surge of energy from his dark roast coffee prior was starting to wear off. And another cigarette wouldn’t hurt as well. 

“Didn’t take you for such an advocate, Park.”

“Only when necessary. It's effective when I encounter stubborn men too set in their ways.”

The beta woman’s goading was lighthearted, he knew. An attempt to nullify the sullenness that was growing palpable in the air. But he brushed it off nonetheless, like a piece of lint on his shirt.

Park eyed Adler. Watched as he pulled his aviators off and rubbed a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. Massaging at the stress gathered there, where his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Adler blew out a harsh smoke-filled sigh, hanging his aviators on his woolen vest. The bright fluorescent lighting was starting to make his head throb. 

“Adler. There’s no other contingency plan to fall back onto. In order to get what we need and when we need it, accommodations are necessary whether we like it or not. This is the only way.”

But Adler knew Park was right. To try and construct another course of action would only be detrimental in the long run. Time was going without a hitch or a hurdle. And who was he to ask it to change its nature? Results needed to be made and progress needed to be set into motion. 

“Guess, you’re right. We have no choice but to stick with the plan.” 

“With adjustments, of course.” Park added on.

Adler shifted forward, leaning his weight on the narrow windowsill. His aviators on the collar of his wool sweater vest clunked against the high clearance badge on his lanyard. They both stood there stationary, both occupied with their own thoughts.

“Hudson might burst a blood vessel over this.” Adler then said, breaking the silence between them. 

With a sardonic curl of her oxblood lips, Park only snickered. “Let’s hope so. It beats having him breathing down our necks for once.”

Adler didn’t say much more after that. Only stared into the lab room towards you – the sedated subject strapped to the gurney in the far center. A shallow crease soon appeared between his brows, tongue running across gritted teeth, tracing along pointed canines. 

An alpha turned omega…

How pathetic. 

It was almost pitiful. To witness how far the mighty had fallen. Not just for a Russian loyalist so high on Perseus’ totem pole, but as an alpha. For one’s very nature, one’s entire being to up and change. To crack and crumble under deceit and pressure. From a great redwood that stood tall against the gales only to be felled; whittled down until you were nothing but splinters of firewood. 

Admittedly, he had been impressed at first; Alpha to Alpha, face to face. Understanding of your disposition. Your stubbornness, your aggression, your loyalty to your pack’s idealism. Your piety to your pack alpha: Perseus. Even for a person betrayed by one of your own. Resilient to any traditional methods in their arsenal. Unbroken, unbridled. Even throughout the long hours of interrogation and torture. How shameful you were now. Pliant and pacified. An inferiority before him now. Adler supposed that you were never a true alpha in the end. There was always a weakness inside you it seemed. And such weakness needed to be culled.

But those grievances were more idiosyncratic, a disgraceful thing to his inner alpha. Your subjugation from MK-Ultra made you more useful now. Even if your brain was nothing but pulp and rind in the end. Omega or not, you were a vital asset now more than ever. 

And Adler would make sure to get use out of you. 

He was growing restive. 

Stuck in the office, sitting around all day, and doing nothing but paperwork. For a man of action like Adler, it was a fate worse than death. Like an addict, he was feening; an adrenaline junkie without an arrant dosage of the rush that came naturally within his line of work. What was supposedly a short-term position, lasting no longer than a few days, turned into a week of doing nothing but paperwork. He was a workaholic. But a white-collar worker was an antithesis to his very being. Being idle for so long was eating away at his composure and his patience wore paper thin.

But orders were orders. And protocol preceded him.

Adler had just finished up his tedious workload, eyes stinging from staring at papers all day, when there came a knocking on his office door. He turned just as Park opened the door, giving her a nod as she entered inside his space. The sterile scent of antiseptic and bleach clung to her, overpowering the stench of stale smoke and coffee in the room. A concentrated contrast that made Adler crinkle his nose at it. Feeling an urge to sneeze in order to clear his sinuses.

He watched as Park settled herself across the room, leaning against the filing cabinets in front of the desk. But even from afar, Adler could see her exhaustion. The droop in her usual head-held-up-high posture. Dark bags under her eyes, the blanch of her skin. Noticeable no matter how much Park tried to hide it with concealer and blush.

Adler leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes at her. “Any updates?” 

“Yes. The sedation was a success and the subject is recovering fairly well. Just a bit of sickness from being under sedation, largely for longer than was anticipated. But a full recovery is to be expected.”

He hummed. “It lasted longer than I thought.” 

The undercurrent of disgruntlement wasn’t lost on Park, especially as beta. So biologically intuited with the influx of emotions, even the slightest change. The beta woman adjusted the reading glasses on her face. 

“Unsurprisingly. First heats are unpredictable in how long they last. Some last a few days, even weeks. But even after, the heats that follow remain irregular. It takes months before they start to stabilize. Especially without an alpha to help.”

Adler made an interested noise. Mindlessly taking a sip of coffee that had long grown cold. “Seems intricate.”

“Quite so.” The beta woman let out a soft sigh, “But for the subject’s first heat to come so suddenly after MK-Ultra well …” Park paused then shook her head as if to stop her overthinking, “Well, no need to dwell on it further. It’s one less thing to worry about in Berlin. I suppose we were lucky in that regard.” 

“Hm, some are luckier than others.”

Park crossed her arms, eyeing Adler. 

“I suppose so.” She said, “But you know the procedures. You can’t be anywhere near the lab. You’re lucky you were even allowed to work, let alone be at the facility.”

“I can control myself.” He fished out a cigarette carton from the pocket of his leather jacket hanging off the coat rack next to him. “But filling out paperwork and filing it away all day’s not what I signed up for. S’not my job.”

Park smiled. “I think it quite suits you actually.”

Adler’s lips pressed tight, tapping the carton against his hand until a cigarette slid out onto his palm. “Do I have clearance, Park?”

She regarded him for a moment. “You do.”

“Good.” Adler settled the cigarette between his lips. “About time.” 

“You know patience is a virtue. Has anyone told you that, Adler?” Park exhaled out.

“All the time.” He mumbled behind his teeth, thumbing at his lighter. The cigarette in his mouth smoldered, catching the flame. And Adler inhaled. Then blew smoke out in a slow and steady exhale of breath. “But in my experience, patience is nothing but passivity and a goddamn waste of time.”

“As I said: stubborn men too set in their ways.”

Adler only huffed on his cigarette, lip curled at the edge. 

“We leave in a week. The subject will be ready before then.”

Park turned to leave but stopped herself, turning on her heel as she looked at the man quietly. “And Adler?”

He canted his head to the side towards Park standing right in the doorway. Cigarette resting between his blunt fingertips, simmering low. Lips pressed into a fine line. 

“Happy Birthday.”

She then left with the shut of the door and the click of heels fading down the hallway. Leaving the pristine smell of the lab lingering in the office. Despite its strong scent, Adler found some relief with it. Back on the job and back on the hunt for an entity that had eluded him for decades. He lifted a hand up his face and over his scarred cheek. Delicately, calloused fingers ghosted over the plunging trenches of the Lichtenberg-like scar; a lightning strike incised into flesh. Jagged and complex. Starting from his chin, the rough terrain of his scars branched through his lips and across his left buccal plane like a tree canopy. 

A reminder carved deep into the skin; a failure that Adler would not repeat twice.

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

A/N:

Critique welcomed and encouraged as long as it is constructive and polite (don't be rude/mean pretty please ◡̈ ).

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| Next ⮞

[phoenixblaze1412]

I've been reading your works now and then, and i gotta say its all really enjoyable. This is my first time making a req, but i've always imagined dottore not wanting to let his wife go even in death, so he when she dies bcuz of a fatui mission or smth dottore goes 'no☠️' and just revives she and makes her some kind of zombie?? Its the type that has stiches around their body. So dottore can go like 'hey bbg r u hurt let me fix u up!!🥰❤️'

This is based on my oc x canon so don't mind me if im weird. Thank you so much for everything you do!

The Fatui headquarters was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of machines in Dottore’s lab. He stood hunched over a surgical table, his gloved hands trembling slightly as he worked with meticulous precision.

You lay there, lifeless yet beautiful, even in death. The wounds from the failed mission that claimed your life were gruesome, but to him, they were merely challenges to overcome.

"No," he muttered to himself, voice laced with desperation. "I won't let you go. Not now. Not ever."

His segments watched from the shadows, each with varying expressions. Theta tilted his head, curious and unbothered. Omega, the eldest and most stoic, crossed his arms but said nothing. Zeta adjusted his glasses, clearly uneasy but unwilling to interrupt.

“Is this wise?” Zeta finally dared to ask.

Dottore didn’t even glance up. “Wise or not, it’s necessary. She belongs with me.”

The process took days. Dottore refused to rest, his focus singular. He replaced damaged organs, stitched torn muscles, and mended broken bones with care that bordered on obsessive.

Finally, the moment came. With a surge of electro energy coursing through your body, your chest rose as if taking in a breath for the first time. Your eyes fluttered open, hazy but alive. Dottore leaned over you, his mask discarded for once, his crimson eyes burning with intensity.

“Welcome back, my love.”

At first, waking up was disorienting. Your body felt different, your movements were stiffer and the faint pull of stitches reminded you of your altered state.

“I… I’m alive?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” Dottore said, a rare softness in his tone as he cupped your cheek. “You’re alive, and you’re mine once more, forever.”

You looked down at your hands, noticing the faint lines of stitches trailing across your wrists. “What… what did you do, Dottore?”

“I saved you,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You didn’t think I’d let you leave me, did you?”

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but stare at him, still processing your current situation. “But I'm.. different.”

“So? You’re still perfect as ever,” he countered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The segments, of course, had varying opinions about your resurrection.

Theta held your hand and placed it along his cheek, grinning as he stared at you in awe. “Does this mean she’s indestructible now? Can I test it?”

He earned a sharp glare from Dottore and a flick on the forehead from you.

Omega tilted his head and hummed. “It’s unnatural, but.. I suppose it was inevitable, given his obsession. Either way, as long as I am able to see them again. I am fine with it."

Zeta smiled as he handed you a glass of water to drink, looking over the stitches the doctor has done and nodded in satisfaction at how methodically well it was stitched. “At least she seems to be adjusting well. And.. she does make the lab feel more cheerful.”

You smiled and laughed at their bickering, grateful for their unique personalities and happy to have them with you. Dottore deciding to ignore his segments as he focused his gaze on you, caressing your cheek adoringly.

----------

Living as a stitched-together version of yourself was an adjustment but Dottore’s unwavering love made it easier.

One evening as you sat in his lab patching up a tear in your arm, he walked over with a smirk.

“Hello, my love,” he teased, crouching in front of you as he held up a needle and thread up in his hand and grinned. “Are you hurt? Let me fix you up.”

You rolled your eyes but handed him the needle. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And yet, you adore me for it,” he replied, his hands deftly repairing the stitches with the same care he’d shown during your resurrection.

----------

Though your body was different, your love for each other remained unchanged. If anything, it deepened. You had always known Dottore’s devotion ran deep, but seeing the lengths he’d go to keep you by his side was overwhelming.

One night, as you lay together in his quarters, his arms wrapped around you protectively, you traced a finger over the stitches on your stomach.

“Does this bother you?” you asked softly.

He frowned, pulling you closer. “No. It reminds me that you’re here. With me. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You’re crazy.. going this far as resurrecting me is ridiculously mad.”

“And what of it? You’re mine. Even in death, we shall never part,” he whispered, his voice filled with uncharacteristic tenderness as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

In Dottore’s eyes, you were perfection, stitched together, alive, and irrevocably his and only his.

[lexirosewrites]

I can't remember if I already sent in an ask abt nugget #6 in my new years birth AU but if I did ignore tht one

NUGGET #6 is, surprisingly, early. Not dangerously early, but it catches everyone off guard & his first 24 hours involve him being hooked up to oxygen. He's born dual sexed but there's no scent.

Steve & Eddie panic bc they haven't talked abt it much w their other pups, but nugget #6 is a rainbow baby. Steve experienced his first ever miscarriage 8 months before he conceived nugget #6. Steve was safe but devastated. The doctor explained tht it might b considered rare for an omega, either man or woman, to have a miscarriage but it does happen.

(In my world building I maintain tht omegas would have very quick labor but also the genetics have evolved in a way tht omegas aren't known for being particularly high risk of a miscarriage. Also, I maintain tht omegas would have mostly home births. But this is an AU where the upside down did happen so I think all the trauma Steve's body went through might make labor & delivery a little more complicated so when they were awaiting nugget #1 it was decided tht Steve would give birth in the hospital.)

SO ANYWAY

Nugget #6 is born so much smaller than his siblings & he doesn't have a strong scent for the first 24 hours. When Eddie voices their shared worry as their son is put on oxygen the doctor reassures them; when a pup is born early it isn't unusual for them to not have a particularly noticeable scent. The nurses & doctors monitor the pup tht is barely technically considered a preemie & everyone is relieved when he is strong enough after just 24 hours to be taken off oxygen. His scent developed overnight as he got used to being outside the womb earlier than anyone expected. The blood test they'd taken already confirmed it but it's a good sign tht he has a milky puppy scent tht is noticeably sweet,

little Samwise Wayne Munson is a boy omega, born at 2:55PM February 14, 2000. Wayne is old & tired from a lifetime of hard labor & no one says it but they're all thinking abt how Wayne might not b around in a decade or so, Eddie cries abt it when Wayne thanks him (while holding Wayne Jr) for naming his bby after him & Steve makes both men cry harder when he says samwise needed strength his first 24 hours & they couldn't think of anyone else stronger

Not even 2 days later, February 16, 2000 at 3PM O!Max safely delivers an alpha boy, the throuples 2nd child. They name him Eric William Hopperfield-Sinclair, Eric is more than the male form of Erica it's also Max's bio dads name; a 2 for 1 special

Erica makes a joke at the gathering tht the Hopperfield-Sinclairs host when their new baby comes home: tht the two will grow up & fall in love w eachother, they all laugh

((They all laugh about it once more in 2024 after Eric gets down on one knee with a cherry red velvet ring box to propose to Samwise in the middle of their huge family Christmas dinner, hosted in the gorgeous actual literal chateau in the Austrian countryside tht was among the assets steve inherited when Amelia passed away in 2018.

Samwise laughs and pulls his own deep purple velvet ring box out of his pocket. They both say yes))

((Eric got Samwise a lab grown pink diamond princess cut into a heart surrounded by small pink pearls on a rose gold band, his Sammy loves pink & maximalism. While Samwise got Eric a lab grown amethyst set into an art deco white gold band, his Eric loves green & art deco.))

(Funny side story in this AU: B!Murray (& his amused mate the Russian ex-pat O!Alexei) made everyone they could guilt into visiting hide in Murray's new & improved apocalypse housing on December 31st 1999. Dustin & Suzie were exempt because they were some of the unsung heroes working overtime to code computers all over the world to NOT glitch out at midnight new years eve 1999. El was also involved but she was mostly a last resort worst case scenario option. Baby Jim was extremely confused abt spending his birthday in the middle of nowhere, but he was also barely 4 so he was easily distracted with the cake grandma Joyce baked)

THATS ALL FOLKS, might end up submitting a few more anecdotes abt this AU for Sunday this week but consider this ask the concluding chapter of a story!!!

💛💛💛

[xreaderanonaccount]

My stone cold love (Dottore x G/N!Reader)

Tags: Mentions of human body parts near the end

Dottore clicked his tongue in annoyance as he was bothered again by one of his segments. He glanced behind him to see Omega leaning against the doorway. His face blank staring straight into Dottore’s eye.

“Are you going to stand there looking stupid, what do you want?” Venom spewing out of his voice as turn back to his work. The two stood in silence as Dottore hunch over his lab table staring down at his lab reports. 

“(y/n) came back from their mission.” Omega finally spoke up as Dottore listened to his footsteps approaching. 

“Good, arrange something warm for them.” Dottore didn’t look back as he grabbed one of his many test tubes. 

“Understood” He could hear Omega walk away before another fast approaching step approaches his lab. 

“Omega, good you're here.” Theta’s voice rang into the cold lab, “(Y/n) is back-” 

“Yes we know that.” Dottore cut him off, 

“Yeah and they’re covered in blood.” You could hear a pin drop in the lab as Dottore whipped around to face Theta. The silence was deafening, as the three of them all stare at each other.

Dottore made a sound of anger before storming out of his lab. Theta and Omega followed close behind as he slammed the door of your shared room. The room shook a bit as he heard a small yelp. Looking around he immediately spots you sitting on the couch being cleaned by one of his many segments. 

“Dottore…” You tried to speak up before you yelped in pain as one of the segments dab a wet cotton on your wounds. He stormed up to you roughly grabbing his face making you stare at him. Your face was in shock and worried as Dottore inspected your face turning it side to side. 

“Who did this to you?” Dottore’s voice is eerily calm, towering over your small form.

“S-some treasure hoarders. That’s all…” You mumble as you place your hand in one of the segments hands as they continue to treat your wound. Dottore clicked his tongue as he turned to Omega.

“Find them, and bring them to me.” Omega nodded, but before heading out Omega placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving the room. Dottore now turns his attention back to you and the segments. Dottore took off his bird mask, his bright ruby eyes staring back into yours.

“All of you out.” He command. Some tried to protest but one glare had the segments leaving you behind. Some promise to come back to check on you. Once all the segments were gone and it was just you and Dottore you shuffled in your seat as you waited for whatever Dottore was going to say. Dottore's stone cold eyes slightly softened as he gave a deep sigh. Running his hand through his icy blue hair.

“May I?” Dottore asked, gesturing to the empty seat next to you. You nodded scotting over for him, which he gladly accepted. Settling down on the plush couch he grabbed the Isopropanol and continued cleaning your wound. 

“Are you okay?” Your voice barely above a whisper as you watch his face. His face scowled as he stared at the blood leaking out of your wounds. 

“Love?” You asked again, gaining his attention as you gently cupped his face. Dottore looked at you intently before going back to your wounds.

“Fine… I’m fine,” Dottore sighed as he placed the,now redden cotton down. This side of Dottore is rare to see, as the normal mad man has a very weird soft spot for you. You smile as you watch Dottore grab your hand off his face to tend to it.

“Just thinking that’s all.” Dottore gave you one of his scheming smirks before he finished cleaning your wounds. Dottore got up as he planted a quick peck on your lips before getting up. 

“Get some rest.” His voice was weirdly soft as he guided you to your shared bed, “Rest is the best medicine. You know?” You gave a soft laugh as you settled down in your bed.

“I’ll be back with some soup later.” Dottore whispers before leaving you in your shared bedroom. You smile as you nuzzle yourself into the soft warm blanket.

After some days of rest you happily walk towards Dottore's lab. A small box of sweets wrapped in your arms, a small smile plastered on your face as you open the door to the lab. You were immeaditly greeted by Theta who gave you a nod. You gave a friendly nod back as you headed towards Dottore's office. You gave short and soft raps on the door before being told to come in. As you open the door you immeaditly notice a couple of new jars of human limbs in his office.

"How are you love?" You ask ignoring and brushing off the new jars as Dottore's weird hobby.

"Fine. I'm glad to see you all well." Dottore respond not lifting his head, as he is burried in paperwork.

"I'm to," You smiled setting down the box of sweets sliding it towards him. Dottore glance at the small box of sweets before staring at you.

"I just decided to get something nice for you," You smiled as you sit ontop of his desk, "As a sort of thanks." Dottore gave a small sigh before setting the pen down. He watched you as you grabbed one of the new jars of human parts staring at the hand floating in it.

"Where did you get this one Dottie?" You gave him an innocent smile. Dottore gave a chuckle as rest his head on his hand.

"Mm... let's just say I found some Treasure Hoarders."

A/N: divider credits: cafekitsune

[fandomsoda]

The Omega Lab art is done! Had lots of fun with this one. If you’d like to learn more about my au, the info post is linked on my masterpost which is in my pinned.

[eluxcastar]

HII, girl I'm LITERALLY OBSESSED W YOUR WRITING AND I'VE NEVER BEEN INTO DOTTORE TGIS MUCH, And I love you dadtore fics, if it's possible, can you make a fic where reader comes back from kindergarten and asks him when her bday is bc it was their friend's bday and poor Dottore doesn't know and tries to find reader's parents to ask them for their bday to find out it's in a few days?? THANK YOU SM AND I'M NOT FORCING BTWW!!!!

Dadtore sends his raccoon child to kindergarten

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: dadtore finally lets someone else watch his raccoon child for a while, except they accidentally learn birthdays exist, and then he's gotta figure out when theirs is

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, not proofread, details of reader's backstory are still a bit ambiguous (perhaps at the detriment of the story), again mentions reader being mute but you can ignore it and idk pretend they said something, can't promise it's in character I'm super rusty

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

THANK YOUUUU

this is like the perfect setup for him to join a pta or something LMAO

he probably should've tested this child for rabies, but anyway, enjoy this chaos. I finally got inspiration after playing minecraft on this modpack. a raccoon got into my chicken pen and chilled with the chickens until I put a tasmanian devil in there that killed the chickens and became besties with the raccoon. I saw those little guys together and was like "I have to make ocs out of this" then was like DOTTORE'S RACCOON CHILD, so here we are

You have never been fussed over quite so much as you are today. Dottore has been trying to get you ready to be watched by someone else for once. All you can focus on is how Omega stands in the back with his arms folded over his chest while he scoffs at the softness Dottore has adopted when he sits you down on the edge of the closest empty table to clean the crumbs off your face after you scarfed down a cookie Tartaglia snuck you earlier.

He won't allow you to go to such an unfamiliar place like kindergarten without wiping your dirty hands and pressing a cloth to your plushy little cheeks in hopes of making you at least somewhat presentable. You will never shake the lingering dirt under your fingernails or the habit of smearing everything across your fingers in an attempt to have fun with the messes you can make.

Perhaps you're too old for a place like kindergarten, but everyone has to start somewhere. Dottore is not ready to send you to school, a place he sees as a stressful commitment that will consume more and more of your time, which he's unwilling to relinquish.

As much as Dottore resists the depth of his affection for you, a part of him refuses to send you away for too long out of some unfamiliar feeling of...fear. It is awful. It is a battle he fights within himself between the factions that war against loving you and missing you. He is discovering the parental woes of attachment after months of taking your presence for granted as if you will always be lingering in his lab.

It will be quiet. Some of Dottore's segments might be happy you're not around to knock his tools on the floor or almost break glass jars whenever you put your hands up to implore him to let you help. Dottore will, unfortunately, miss it more than he'd like to admit.

You try to mask your nervousness with a facade of excitement as if you're eagerly anticipating the adventure of a new place, but the truth is, the nerves are gnawing at you just as they are at Dottore. Since coming here, you have seldom been away from him, and it was nice. His presence is comforting. You stand there, clapping your hands in a show of readiness, while Dottore helps you with your backpack, stealing your arms to guide them into the straps before settling it on your shoulders and ensuring you're all set.

Though Dottore can't feed himself for the life of him, he knows how to make you a sandwich to get you through the day and cut the crusts off as you'd silently asked by never eating them, only to present him your empty plate with nothing but the crusts. He cut them off this morning before packing your lunch into your backpack for you. He added some snacks, most of which were made by other people who were far better at cooking than him, like the small cakes Arlecchino gave him once the children at the House were done with them.

She worries for you too much, even when you've lived this long without facing more than a fever. Dottore panicked enough when you had that to scare him into wiping your hands and making you blow your nose. If you were going to be injured by anything, it would be the many possible weapons lying around his lab. His efforts to conceal those in the way he did when he reorganised the materials. The segments will leave those anywhere without regard for it, safe for the occasionally conscious few who worry enough about you to be a little more spacially aware.

Kindergarten was her idea once she discovered you had received no formal education.

Dottore can hear Omega walking away once he grows tired of watching him dote on you like a sentimental father. He finally takes your hand to lead you away, squeezing your little hand in his, marred by the fear you might suddenly disappear if he does not stay with you. The fear of losing you is a constant.

-

Getting you to stay at kindergarten in his absence was difficult when you couldn't stop snivelling and whimpering for him to remain, and he felt awkward. Having a Harbinger bring you to school was bad enough, but he was capable of making your caregivers nervous just by nervously nudging you into their arms. At least he knows you'll be treated well. She tried to get you to come to play with the other children and show you the various games and crafts, but you had none of it out of some deep-seated fear that Dottore might not return.

Coming home is easier as you are in his arms the moment you see him, swept off your feet with your eyes filled with joy. You hug him more tightly than you ever have before. He would kiss your head if only that paternal love for you felt real, but his fear of reciprocation keeps him from anything more than a tight squeeze until you kick your legs around to make him release you.

You greet him with crumbs on your face from a cake not quite like the one he sent you off with, inspecting it before he takes the handkerchief from his pocket, which he always uses to wipe your face. Dottore swipes the mess away.

"They wouldn't let me clean them up," the caregiver who had tried so very hard to calm you quickly attempts to excuse herself. "No touching," she adds. "That's dad's job, I take it?"

Dad's job. He supposes he is listed as being your father on the registration papers, and he arrived with you. You clung to him, teary-eyed and unwilling to leave his side for about ten minutes. Every child wants their parents to stay, she'd told him. To think you didn't like her touching you is strange to him when you have always been ok with him doing so—he practically threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes when he found you.

You didn't care before, but now you do, and he has no idea why. Dottore won't bother asking when you're too busy flicking your fingers against his earring, watching the liquid inside the vial slosh against the glass for entertainment as it sways back and forth.

"Where did it come from?" he questions, wondering what you'd put in your mouth for later if you wanted it again.

"Chocolate cake," she tells him. "One of the other children brought it in for her birthday."

Birthday? The thought of you having a birthday has never crossed his mind, but when he hears the word from the caregiver's mouth, his mind races as he realises he doesn't know your birthday in the first place. He pats his hand against the small of your back as you seem to once again settle into place in his arms like it's the comfiest place in the world.

The look you give him is more than enough to glean that you want to know the answer, too, and if you do have an answer, you want to know why he hasn't questioned it. He'd have to find your parents to discern that. He doesn't know almost anything about you that he didn't decide or contribute, save for your name, as you haphazardly wrote it down on a piece of paper you were scribbling all over.

But for a birthday...things are different.

-

He does not appreciate you blowing a party horn at him. You treat it like any child treats something that makes a loud noise, and you continue to blow it incessantly the whole way home. It drives him crazy to hear nothing but that loud, ear-grating sound.

"Where did you get that?" he finally asks. However, he won't take it away, seeing as it distracts you from your earlier fit. Your adventure has been quelled by a need to have someone in your life who can care for you the way you have become used to, but he almost doesn't mind the way you cling.

You blow the horn at him as an answer, even when it does not suffice. It is more noise than you've ever made in response to him, even if it comes through a party horn.

"I suppose you wonder about your birth, then?" he questions at last.

You blow the horn again. Dottore watches it unravel in a spiral and puffs with your breath as the sound rings out again in a rough, wavering blight to the silence. In a way, he almost likes it, endeared by it, if begrudgingly.

"There might not be an answer," he tells you honestly, unable to lie. He sees no point in it, not about this. He's not one for sugarcoating what he tells you, even if he suspects they'll upset you. You need to hear them all.

There's no horn in response to that. You're quiet. As the moments, then seconds, pass, you take the party horn from your mouth, now a touch grossly covered in a sheen of your saliva, and only nod as you usually do. It's a bit sombre, marred by the sting of disappointment Dottore sees in the depths of your eyes so fixed on the path ahead or the movement of your fingers as you play with your newest toy.

With a hand against your upper back, he pats you. "I'll search for one," he assures you despite that, and his hand slips away without another word.

-

He finds looking for answers difficult. He does most of it after you've drifted off to sleep, resting in the same place you always do beneath the coat that has long become yours as much as it is his.

Your party horn was confiscated by a segment who couldn't stand hearing you blow on it at all hours, thinking it was funny, but once it found the highest shelf far beyond your reach, you soon forgot it as you settled right back into your familiar place.

You spend long days far from where you feel safest, and much of it is spent...reasonably happy. You befriended the child whose birthday cake you got all over your face, and each day, you would return to him with her in tow. You grow inseparable from the girl until the very moment he returns you to this same lab you are so used to.

You busy yourself as you always have while Dottore tries to find traces of someone searching for a child of your rough age, first in the area where he met you and then further.

At a point, he grew desperate, the dwindling sources weighing on him as the sting of failure settled in despite his telling you that he may not find anything. He wanted to provide you with something after all the time he spent leaving you without answers, wondering. It was a simple pleasure.

He briefly considers lying but knows it would do you no good. He has rarely told you lies, but the thought of you never knowing a day when you smeared your own cake on your face is oddly sad.

Then he finds it.

It is only the whisper of a couple who searched for their child and then stopped, but one of his segments presents it all the same.

On the surface, the couple found who they were looking for and returned to their happy lives in the Snezhnayan countryside without incident, but nothing actually indicates that they found the child they were looking for—no thanks to the people who had helped look, no entries in local papers—only that the efforts abruptly ended.

Innocuously, Dottore presents a kamera to you and asks for a picture, not bothering to mention that he intends to show it to people he hopes with recognise your face.

So, Dottore travels back out to the little town where they had lived—personally this time—hoping to find answers without going through a chain of other people just to find hints. Doing all of that had been exhausting, but it's arguably worse for a Harbinger to walk through the streets of a town that had never known the presence of one, knocking on doors for a couple most claimed to have heard nothing from in months.

The quaint little cottage he approaches after a long day spent questioning a town filled with people who didn't want to be questioned belied the effort it took, a pillar of smoke rising from the chimney of a house much older than you, yet which you perhaps once resided in. Something about it carves a sinking pit into his stomach like it confirms his fears that you have a home waiting for you to return to it.

The door greets the beat of his hand with a firm knock, and the shuffle of feet, and a weathered old man appears in the doorway. At first, he seems indifferent to the sight, then his brows knit together in confusion before he pales at the realisation of who—or rather what—has found his doorstep.

"Did you find them?" the man blurts out before Dottore can even speak a word.

Within cautious seconds, Dottore pulls the picture he had taken of you from somewhere within his coat. The man's trembling fingers close around the edges of the picture, and Dottore finally notices one is poorly bandaged.

The man's thumb brushes across the image, tracing your smiling face with a familiar fondness and the gleam of tears threatening his eyes. He would not have seen you in months, if not a year. All of that time, you have lived with Dottore after he snatched you up and kept you from freezing to death in the middle of nowhere.

The man reluctantly invites him inside, offering him a chair at the cramped, cluttered table. He leaves his overcoat across the back of the chair, rejecting the offers of anything to drink or eat as he notices the old man's shuffled steps and unsteady feet.

"I hadn't expected a Harbinger to be looking for my grandchild," the man says. "But some surprises are pleasant. My daughter never had pictures of them to give out. People in these parts don't have fancy kameras like this. I thought nobody would ever find them."

He almost appears to treat that picture, the image of you, the only one he has, as a priceless treasure. Despite that evident love and affection, he frowns.

"My daughter is gone now," he continues. Dottore doesn't ask what that means, guessing enough to tell it's nothing good. The man's shaking hands still grasp that picture. "Can I keep this?" he asks.

"I have no further use for it," Dottore answers. The man only nods and sets it on the table in front of him, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in a wry smile.

He looks up after a while. "Where have they been?" he asks. "They look well."

Dottore pauses, wondering if he should tell the truth. Hearing that your grandchild has been living in a stranger's lab, surrounded by dangers, would not be reassuring. More importantly, it might prompt him to ask for you back.

Despite knowing he should, he's not eager to give you back. "At the House of the Hearth," he replies.

"The Knave's orphanage," he nods in understanding, considering something. "Might they be able to stay there?" he asks.

It takes Dottore by surprise.

-

Dottore leaves with a simple book and a greater understanding of how you came to be where you were at the time you had—how he found you. When he returns to find you curled up with a younger segment in a blanket fort after playing in the lab for the evening. A day at kindergarten should've tired you out, but it seems you had a lot of energy to spare and spent it all as you do when he leaves someone else to care for you in his stead.

You pick the segments apart by now—you know they exist—but letting them pick you up never really seems like trouble to anyone else.

By morning, you are awake and darting about, getting into all the things you shouldn't and having all the fun you know you can here. You stand at the table's edge on your toes and look over the edge at what Dottore is doing. You take well to this life—this routine—and he can see as much.

"I found you something," he tells you. "Your grandfather."

You look at him curiously, eyes lighting in a way he has seen only a few times before.

"He was looking for you," he continues, his hand reaching across the table to slide you a largely inconsequential spare part to fiddle with, as you so often like to do. Your little hand takes it, and you disappear behind the edge of the table as you look at it. After a moment, you reappear, your arms draping over the table, the screw he gave you twiddled between your fingers. "He told me many things about you, including when you were born."

Dottore resists the urge to touch your hair, leaving you to your devices. He must remind himself that he is not your father, though he knows he shouldn't have to. Dottore should have returned you to your home the moment he found it or taken you to the House of the Hearth as he claimed he had.

He stills his hand before it reaches you. "Did chocolate cake become your favourite?"

You look up at him, nodding excitedly. You had made a new friend on her birthday, learned of your grandfather's search for you, and followed her in her affections for chocolate cake, as children do. If you would speak, he imagines you rambling off plenty about your little friend and all you do together. He's not quite sure what you do with her. He knows she makes you happy.

You are growing into this home well, even when this home was not made for you.

"Chocolate it is, then," he concludes.

[fatuismooches]

Fragile reader reincarnation has been rotting my brain...

Dottore would have failed to cure you fast enough, resulting in your untimely death. But he kept trying. He pursued everything he could, from knowledge and procedures that shouldn't be tampered with to baseless myths and rumors that obviously held no fact, yet he investigated them thoroughly anyway because he was uncharacteristically desperate. Needing just one thing to spark some progress in his research. However, despite him and his segments searching exhaustively, nothing came up. Eventually, he had to let your body rest.

Decades upon decades would go by, and he would become far more closed off. His segments would attend all the meetings and deal with others. The mortal Harbingers had passed on already, replaced by new ones. There was still Columbina, who had mourned you a great deal as well, but he didn't speak to her much. The world had become rather boring now without you and your unpredictability. Yes, his experiments did still spark excitement whenever they turned out to be successful, but the feeling that you were missing often lingered. The person he waited over four hundred years for, and now he would wait an eternity to never be reunited with you. However, that would change one day.

It would be one of the rare days one of the segments was out in public - Omega had just returned from a meeting with the new banker for the Fatui. In the past, Prime used to attend such things sometimes, but now the responsibility was primarily his. The segment was about to return to the lab when something very familiar caught his attention.

Your laugh.

Now, the segment has replayed your voice in his head many times since your death, burned into his core, but it never felt as real as just now. It has his interest piqued. And that's when he sees you. The same eyes and smile he could recognize anywhere. Upon getting closer, your voice, quirks, and habits are unnaturally similar to what he remembers from so many years ago. Already, many thoughts and possibilities are running through Omega's head, but what seals the deal is when the other person refers to you as [Name]. Now, he simply must approach you.

It isn't hard for his skilled tongue to get information out of you, and although you do think he's a bit too inquisitive for a stranger (new friend), he's just too charming to resist, for some odd reason. (You don't know much about the Harbingers and can't recognize him.) And the similarities are too stark to ignore, from your former attendance in the Akademiya to your hobbies and research interests. Of course, there's still more he would need to confirm, but the most likely possibility is that this you... is a reincarnation.

Of course, revealing this news to the other segments, naturally creates an uproar, all of them wanting to see you in person to confirm this for themselves. But unfortunately, that isn't very easy because you'd definitely get scared seeing all these unnaturally similar blue-haired men randomly coming up to you. So only the older segments that look close to Omega come out to visit you. You can't tell the difference much, only besides you think he has slightly longer hair, and his voice isn't as deep, but you barely know him, so maybe you're just mistaken? Either way, all of them are courteous to you, although a bit- no, very strange. Still, you find it familiar. From where you don't know. (They have taken samples of your hair strands and skin but you don't know that.)

And then there are times when the 'same' man pops up but with a different mask. You just assumed that he decided to swap masks, but he acts a bit different from usual. You don't know how to describe it, but he seems the tiniest bit forlorn. Stares at you so hard you get a bit uncomfortable, but he doesn't do it maliciously. But when certain topics come around he seems to test the waters on your opinions before opening up some more. It seems he can't trust you very much yet. But perhaps time could change that.

Zandy would be the first to trust you wholeheartedly of course - the original you's death undoubtedly scarred his young heart, having been the first person to ever show the child unconditional love. When he sees that you're back, with the same smile and eagerness to entertain his childish desires, he can't help but indulge in your love once again.

A part of Dottore just wants to make you live in the lab with him, but it's obvious that would make you scared, and the last thing he wants to do is scare the someone who is supposed to be his beloved. However, a part of me wonders if Dottore would be able to truly love the reincarnated reader the same as he loved the original one. Because this isn't the person he spent centuries with, the one he's had since his young days. Whatever part of his heart that has the ability to love, loves the first you wholly, far too attached. Does have room for reincarnated you? Can he make room? That is something you two will have to work out.

At the very least, if you still happen to be sick in this life, he swears to cure you this time.

[luckyarchivist]

one way or another (Leander x Alchemist!MC a/b/o)

reader beware: omegaverse (omega!reader / alpha!Leander), toxic relationships, no actual r18 content cos i’m lazy

yeah sorry for this one but I'm an a/b/o girlie with a serious case of writer’s block and this one’s been sitting around waiting to be finished.

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Leander was your mate.

Was. Not anymore—not after what he did. What you saw. You can’t trust him anymore. But you still carry his mark on your neck, and the bond between you still aches, your instincts wailing to return to his side.

You try everything you know to break the bond. Your master had run her own experiments, during her passing-phase interest in the mechanics of bonding, and you frantically test each hypothesis of hers on yourself. But, in the back of your mind, you know that better alchemists than you have tried and failed to destroy a sealed bond.

You'd wondered, before, why Leander had been so eager to mark you once you finally fell victim to his charm. Had chalked it up to his being a romantic, and nothing more. But maybe that wasn't all there was to it.

After all, a bond can connect two people across far distances. Even mates on opposite sides of the world can still feel each other's emotions, sense their partner's location, if only dimly. The city of Eridia isn't nearly that large, and Leander is a bloodhound in every sense.

It isn't long before he finds you.

You should've noticed he was getting close sooner. The extrasensory input you receive through your bond has helped you evade him just as much as it's helped him chase you. But your attention is split too many different ways: avoiding and tracking Leander, dodging his goons, experimenting on your bond, keeping yourself alive. Any discomfort—hunger, thirst, fatigue—you bury in the frenzy of your work.

That's why you don't notice the signs of your heat coming on. Not until it's too late.

He finds you in your makeshift lab, trembling helplessly on the floor. You grit your teeth against the scent of him, strong and sweet and so enticing.

“There you are, darling!”

He kneels next to your curled-in form. You try to breathe more shallowly, but you can feel yourself responding to his presence. Your body is trying to relax, an effect of his pheromones on your nervous system. You manually tense your muscles in turn, trying to fight the reflex.

“I knew you'd let me find you eventually.” He brushes his fingers along your cheek and you flinch. A warm feeling spreads across your skin. “Once you got tired of playing your game.”

You strangle the whimper in your throat. “Stay away from me,” you hiss.

“You don't mean that, love.” He smiles. Your stomach twists. “You’re confused right now. You’re scared. I know. That’s why you need me. That’s why I'm here.”

His hands creep under your body and you arch away from him; he tries to hook his arms under yours, and you twist out of reach. Your shoulder hits the floor hard and you groan, curling back up. You’re in so much pain…

“Don’t make me fight you,” Leander says, the barest note of command in his voice.

“Get out. Leave—” You swallow. Just saying the words is sending alarms through your brain, regrets that shouldn’t belong to you. “Leave me alone, Leander. I'm serious, I—I don’t want you here. I don't need you here.”

“You’re in heat, darling.” That note is louder this time. He’s tired of you arguing with him. “You’re not thinking straight.” He grabs for you again, his grip a little rougher; this time, you throw your arm back.

You don’t even hit him; at least, you don’t think. Swinging wildly like you did against someone like Leander, whose guard is always up despite his appearances, wasn’t going to get you far. Not to mention that he’s more of a fighter than you any day of the week. But you don’t need to hit him to offend him—it’s the intention that matters.

He twists your arm behind your back and pins you to the floor. He’s too heavy on your back; tears form in your eyes as he forces your hand up between your shoulder blades.

You don’t want this. You want to be in your nest, not on the cold, hard floor of an abandoned shack, surrounded by your failures. You want your mate, not whoever this beast is on top of you, a flick away from breaking your arm.

“Don’t—please,” you beg, tearing up, “please don’t hurt me. Le, please—”

“I’m not—” The hand holding your arm in place snaps away like you burned him. “I wouldn’t— Darling, I would never hurt you. I love you.” He unfolds your arm for you, and tries to cradle you again. This time, you don’t resist. “I love you so much. That’s why I’ve been looking for you. I missed you. I needed you back. My mate.” He lays your head over his chest. He may be heartless metaphorically, but the organ still steadily beats in his chest.

“That’s it. Deep breaths.” Leander soothes you with his hands and his pheremones, stroking your hair while giving off a calming scent. Your desperation nearly morphs to anger and back before dissolving into numbness. This is the monster you've chained yourself to, and you will never be able to escape him. What is there left to do but submit?

Leander kisses your head, and shivers run through your muscles. “Ready to come back home now?”

“Ready,” you whisper.

“Good.” You can feel him grinning into your hair. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take of you. I promise.”

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to the leander lovers: i hope you liked it~ my poor congested synapses did their best

in an ideal world, i'd do a lot more of these little snippets!! i just don't have any ideas for anything. now that i have a fulltime, permanent job, it's like my brain can't focus on anything else lol

[captain039]

PART 4 On the edge

Alpha Jayce x omega reader

Warnings: AOB, light swearing, feral alpha, intimacy, angst, SPOILERS, Fated mates, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

The emotions I was feeling during these last three episodes have me so sad and angsty.

Previous part <-

Jayce is overly silent, often pacing slowly up and down the small hut, his body twitching occasionally. You wonder what he went through when he was gone, what made him go feral? You don’t want to push, you don’t want to overwhelm him. You’ve returned to the upper-city, he stays with his mother now and you’re left in your small apartment feeling detached. You want the simplicity of being in the lab again, though you weren’t neither as smart as either Jayce or Vik, you helped with keeping things organised, making sure they were fed and slept properly. You don’t bring up the mate test even when you go get one yourself. They hand you a slip of paper and in bold print it says Jayce Talis, the medical officer had winked but you just felt a pit in your stomach. You hardly know what Jayce does anymore, you’ve barely seen him till he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. You’re back on your suppressants, the moment you went home you took them again despite the medical officers warnings, you didn’t care, you didn’t want to feel like this. It’s raining gently again when you open the door, you see Jayce soaked, his hammer by his side a wild look in his eyes and you panic. The hammer hums gently with recent use and you frown.

“Jayce what did you do?” You whisper.

“What I promised” is all he answers.

You sit there Jayces head in your lap while your hand rests on his shoulder, he hadn’t gone back to being feral thankfully, but you still don’t know what he did.

“Jayce” you mutter and he tenses making sag.

“I- I killed Viktor” he whispers and it’s like a shard of ice and your whole body freezes.

“Why?” Is all you manage.

“You wouldn’t understand” he says rolling over nuzzling his face into your stomach.

“I won’t if you won’t tell me” you say voice rising a bit.

“I went somewhere” he begins softly after some silence.

“I was teleported, to our future” he says carefully.

“Piltover, Zaun ruined, nobody was alive, it was all ruined by the hex core inside Viktor. I was chased by something, I fell so far down. I was down there for months, useless” he tenses a low growl on his lips and you rub your hand up and down his arm gently calming him.

“I was stuck but climbed out, I climbed to the top of the hex gate where he met me” his eyes are hard then soft.

“It was him, Viktor, the one who saved me when I was a kid somehow, with the Arcane he- I don’t know” he clenches his fist.

“He made me promise to destroy the hex core, otherwise we’d suffer the same fate” he closes his eyes and nuzzles closer arm going around your waist as he sighs deeply. You try to process his story you really do, Viktor went back in time to save Jayce then forward to meet Jayce and now sent Jayce back to kill himself?

You sit there for a while listening to the gentle patter of rain. Your mind swirling, Jayce is asleep, mouth slightly open as he breathes evenly but deeply. Viktor gone? Truely? or would it repeat from the explosion.

You fall asleep eventually in the early morning, neck awkwardly tilted back. You feel movement and let out a small groan moving your neck into a comfortable position. Lips press to your head and soft words reach your ears.

“I need to go to the council” Jayce whispers.

“I’ll be back for you, I promise” he adds adding another kiss to your cheek before he’s gone. You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, his scent lingers around you, his warmth dulling. You busy yourself with normal day to day things, wondering if he would be back.

It’s been a few days since then. You rot away in your apartment, you’re forced to go out to get food, you wander the street on auto pilot, grabbing what you need before heading home. You barely get through the door till you’re engulfed in warmth and strong arms. Jayce had charged at you like a bull if his arms weren’t around you, you’d be on the floor.

“Where were you?!” You frown at his tone and hold up the bag of food as he sighs in relief.

“Sorry, I’m sorry- Viktor-“ he runs a hand through his hair. He trimmed it along with his beard you lift your free hand without thinking running it through the soft trimmed hairs. He sighs instantly closing his eyes and nuzzling into it but you smell Mel on him. You draw back a small frown on your face.

“Viktor?” You question instead.

“He got into the council room, Mel’s returned he tried to attack us” he runs a hand through his hair again.

“But-?” You frown.

“He’s controlling these, things I don’t know what they are, he’s not dead, he’s building an army with Ambessa” you frown at the mention of Mel’s mother, why would one such as her team up with Viktor?

“I need you to come with me to the council building, please I need to keep you safe, my mothers already there, we’re going to send a message tomorrow with everyone Piltover- Zaun” he looks stressed, distraught almost and you nod.

“Ok” you say softly and he sighs in relief hugging you tightly again.

“Let me pack” you say without hugging him back.

“Of course, I’ll help” he nods moving around your apartment as if it was his own. You pack your clothes, toiletries and anything else important. Jayce packs the food and some other things before he nods to you. Going to the council building is strange, sure you’ve been here and the research lab but being in the actual council room is daunting. You see Mel there, a white robe and hood, you see Jayces mother, Caitlyn who you haven’t seen in ages and a pink haired alpha woman. Caitlyn looks to you and smiles she walks over and hugs you and you sigh. You haven’t seen her in a while and she was one of your closest friends. You hug her tightly and look to the woman behind her.

“This is Vi” Caitlyn introduces.

“Hi” you nod telling her your name and she nods to you.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be hard” Jayce sighs leaning against the council table.

“Bringing everyone together in a time of need is always a challenge” Ms Talis says.

“We need everyone” Mel says as you peer to the cloth covered thing on the table.

“What’s that?” You ask nodding your head. Jayce turns and sighs going over to it and removing the cover. You frown and walk over eyeing the creature, almost robotic looking.

“Viktor attacked in it” Jayce said and your frown deepens you see the finger prints into its head same ones as the people in the sanctuary.

“He’s making more” he adds.

“He wants whatever is in the Hex gate” he sighs this time.

“Get some rest, tomorrow will be a big day” Mel calls and walks away. So does everyone else leaving you and Jayce.

“What happened to Mel?” You ask softly.

“She went through something” Jayce answers and you nod knowing better than to press.

“You should get some rest” you say going to walk away as Jayce covers the being before grabbing your wrist.

“Stay” he says and you frown and stop looking to him.

“Stay with me tonight” he adds a little breathlessly. You tense a bit but nod figuring he needs some comfort. His room is as you remember, dark blue quilt on a queen bed. The dark wooden furniture and cleanliness, his scent faint but everywhere.

“Jayce-“ you begin to say turning around but lips press to yours making you gasp in shock.

“Jayce wait-“ you press against his chest and he lets out a small sigh and pulls back.

“What are you doing?” You whisper.

“I saw the test” he mutters and you frown for a moment before it clicks.

“Jayce-“ you sigh.

“No- no listen to me please” the alpha begs and you look to him.

“I always had a feeling” he smiles sheepishly and you frown making his smile falter.

“Is that- ok- I- I always felt drawn to you but I didn’t know if it was because of that ok, and everything that’s happened Hex tech-“ he runs a hand through his hair again.

“Mel” you mutter and he frowns.

“It was once” he says and you know you have no right to be jealous over the beta woman but still.

“And it felt wrong, I didn’t-“

“Didn’t want to disappoint” you comment and he grimaces.

“Jayce a war is going to happen as you said, there’s no time for- feelings or mates or- anything” he looks hurt, like you physically struck him. He doesn’t look like the foreboding feral alpha, he looks like a kicked puppy. His hands fall from your shoulders and his head hangs.

“Is that what you want?” He mutters, a tone so soft you’ve never heard it before from him or any alpha for that matter.

“What do you mean what I want?” You ask.

“You don’t want this?” He presses his alpha side pressing through.

“Jayce” you sigh and he nods face hardening and devoid of emotions.

“I’m sorry I brought you here” he says and leaves. You watch him leave standing in his room your hands shaking as you let out a small cry.

Next part ->

[star-farer]

I've been looking at pins of the clone cadets, and I noticed that Mox, Stak and Deke's outfits all have 5-digit numbers along their collars.

Not too certain about these numbers, but from what I could tell with a lot of squinting is:

Mox: 57843

Stak: 53911

Deke: 52289

My theory is that, being a younger generation of clone cadets, these are their CT numbers. It makes sense for the four-digit CT numbers to run out eventually and younger gen clones to be assigned longer CT numbers instead. (do note my knowledge on clone culture is particularly limited)

On the other hand, these are, presumably, the outfits they wore as prisoners and test subjects on the former Imperial Lab on Setron, so it could be identification numbers assigned to them as prisoners instead of their CT numbers.

Either way, I find it peculiar how neither Crosshair nor Omega - as a matter of fact, none of the test subjects on Tantiss Base had numbers of any kind on their white outfits, clone or otherwise. By otherwise, I mean the children in the Vault - Omega's outfit is originally that of a scientist with the familiar Kaminoan patch on her sleeves, but the second time she's taken to Tantiss is as another test subject and her outfit is the same as any other prisoner there.

Of course, there's always the possibility of a hidden easter egg in these numbers, and given how the Bad Batch is chockfull of them, I wouldn't be too surprised.

Anyways, what do you think about all this?

[kickingitwithkirk]

Winchester's Folly

Summary: When Dean gets into trouble John decides to hide the truth for his family

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam

WC: 1126

Dark! Fic-don't continue if you are disturbed by the subject matter.

Warnings: A/B/O, dystopian au, canon elements, non/con, dub/con, incest, subjugation, pandemic, mentions of nudity, physical/mental abuse, mention of collaring/leashing, sexual/slavery, rut/heat, physical altercation, death/murder conviction, show level violence, parental dominance, trafficking, branding, panic attacks, bondage, forced mating, dated derogatory terms, medical treatment

*Additional warnings will be added

Square filled: @spnabobingo Slutty Omega

A/N I: Still working on reigning myself in, keeping each part reader-friendly length, and have no clue how many parts this will end up being.

A/N II: a few notes about designations in A/O sub-genders for this story.

Alphas-Dominant (head of the pack/family) Subordinate (obey Dominant) Breeders (rare & highly coveted by the government. Can challenge Dominant for pack/family leadership)

Omegas -Domestic (mostly wiped out by plague, few natural born left) Feral (government-supplied breeders sold commonly called O's) House O’s (3rd generation+ Feral/Dominant breed. Used as servants/sex workers) Pack (rare & highly coveted by the government)

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

**Apologies for taking so long getting this part out-had an accident at work and will have limited used of right hand for a bit.

Series Masterlist

Part XI

Dr. Stevenson slid surgical scissors under the ties, quickly sniping, explaining the original posture collars were redesigned for auto-erotic asphyxiation. It fades out as Dean feels like he's having needles pulling out from under the skin of his neck when she drops. "I was expecting that. Let's get the O back on the table."

The doctor continues talking as they slowly remove it, "And this is why they're outlawed," stepping back allows Dean to see the deep purple bruises with black depressions stripping the unconscious O's neck.

****

The doctor gently scrubbed her neck with a fine-pore sponge and commented, "You felt it, didn't you? " The question took Dean off guard and touched his neck, "How'd you?"

"I noticed the claim mark while I was removing the collar. Finding an O you're biologically compatible with isn't easy these days, and even more so for the owner to claim them if they are." Dean doesn't respond. "'Course, it's none of my business. I'm seeing a lot of soft tissue abrasion but no skin necropsy. That's good. Bruise cream will speed up healing." The doctor shined a light into her mouth. "Has she attempted to speak?" Dean admitted he had not heard anything outside coughing.

"I am concerned about this inflammation in her throat." They pick up a swab. "I'm going to have some labs run. Make sure it isn't from an STI since O clinics are only obligated to run standard STD testing for appearances." Slipping the swap into a sterile tube notices the Alpha's confusion.

"Several years into Hibbing, there was unrest brewing about selling people, so the government mandated all O's must have their hymens intact before the first purchase and made propaganda reels still shown in schools to program the populous in believing they're not mistreated." The doctor moves to a cupboard, pulling out a sterile pack.

"Truth is, these O's are versed in various sexual acts by the time they're teens. Going by the physical, I'd say she's been repeatedly throat fucked with that collar on; undoubtedly, it's also done some damage to her vocal cords. But if you're willing, you can do things to help." They gauge Dean before continuing.

"Give her nothing too hot or cold, only room temperature. Tea with honey, soft foods only need to swallow, nothing chewy, and protein supplement specifically for O's. If lucky, she'll recover enough to be understandable but be prepared for the worst, that she'll never speak again." They began preparing a site near the original implant. "I'd normally like to wait on the suppressant; it'll slow down healing. But with her current physical condition, going into heat would be detrimental."

They continued talking, oblivious Dean's vibrating with anger in muscle memory: unable to stop the strangers hovering over his Omega because being tased several times had temporarily left his legs unusable; furiousgrowls bounced around the room when he smelled her blood. Needing a distraction before his instincts swallow him, Dean turns his attention elsewhere and eyes the collar.

Running his fingers over it, he feels the visual bumps and discovers slim, horizontal boning embedded in the leather and hears the doctor comment, "They're constriction rings, function similar to cock rings without the pleasurable effects."

Dean's habitual guilty-as-hell caught in his throat. He failed again to see what was right before him. He shouldn't have kept blindly believing his dad's continued quoting of that damn pamphlet, that him treating it like any other person confused its lower intelligence.

Sam's snide comment that only dick Alphas believed in that antiquated bullshit led to the latest round of Dean physically getting between them before punches got thrown. His wonders what level of dick his brother now considers him is interrupted by the phone's ringtone.

"Hey Bobby, no, still at the clinic. What? Sam's registering shouldn't be an issue; his paperwork is all there." Dean listened to the Betas ranting. "Alright, I'll head over there and deal with it." Then came a list of errands the Beta needed him to run made Dean pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Just what he needed; more things slapped on his overflowing plate when he felt the O coming around, ending the call to focus on her. "Hi, sweetheart. Have a good nap?"

She turned towards his voice, spotting the IV pole, and glanced down at the tubing protruding from her wrist. She peered at him and blinked three times, the signal for question. "You have something going on in your throat and need some antibiotics and fluids. Listen, I gotta run out for a while and deal with something at Sam's school. Will you be okay?"

That's when it smacked Dean; something had shifted between them. If he allows himself to be honest with himself, it scares him. Refocusing on the O, he's unnerved by her concerned expression, too similar to Sam's, and feels relief when she blinks once for yes since he's unsure how to react to her becoming more in tune with his internal feelings.

Grabbing the three-quarter-drank bottle of rotgut, Bobby doesn't bother with the glass; he feels it burn his throat as he polishes it off. Banging the bottle down, he stares at the wording on the paperwork and understands why John was so cagey about his questioning about Frank. The sonuvabitch knowingly mated his children; that practice hasn't been done since before the Omega plague. And knowing the temperament of the man, it wasn't to get Dean out of dire straits because he is John’s son, but for the older Alphas' continued vendetta.

The Beta's mind whirled with questions, but one kept popping to the forefront- who or what made her appear out of nowhere, and why now?

The longer he broods, the more he's convinced it has links to Mary Winchester. Picking up the cordless phone, he dials a familiar number. "Hey Bobby," a female voice warmly says. "Guess you're not calling to find out who to bet on in Sunday's playoffs."

"We both know the Vikings are going to the Superbowl," there's an amused laugh on the line, "Keep telling yourself that. So what can I help you with?"

"I'm not sure where to start with this one," Bobby admits and hears cards shuffling through the receiver. "It'd be best to go back to the beginning. And keep the drinks down to a minimum." He glances at the new bottle he had sat on the desk just before calling, "How'd you...?"

"I'm the best damn psychic in the state," Pamela reminds him, "So start talking, or I will reverse the charges for this call." Bobby makes a vexed noise at his fellow Betas' cheekiness.

"In 1986, I met a man with two small boys looking for answers."

Part XII

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